Time Period: About 7 years after school. Harry is about 24 & flashbacks of his 7th year at Hogwarts.
Spoilers: Hopefully you've read all the books and book five. But it doesn't matter to much. If characters are dead... it's because it's implied that they died in the passing time period. ;D Did that make sense? I hope so. :x
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Present Day
Speaking softly, Harry retold the story. Draco listened, remembering.
"If you hadn't of come in there at the exact moment... I don't know if I'd still be here." He said quietly, touching his forearm as he remembered doing that night. Only now it was with the tips of his fingers, and not the tip of a knife. But, Draco thought, there were plenty of times Harry had come close to "not being here". Almost all of which Draco had not saved him and, of all the times... it had been the only time Harry was in control.
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Hogwarts
7th Year (November 1st continued)
"I said... What are you doing here, Malfoy," the stuffy voice came again, questioning Draco from the darkness.
He watched the boy straighten himself, "You forget, Potter, I am a prefect. I should be the one asking you the questions."
The Slytherin heard a blunt "pft" from Potter as he watched him stand up, wobbling just enough to be noticed. "Whatever Draco." With that, Harry pushed passed him, barely noticing he'd called the boy by his first name. As he reached for the doorknob, Draco's voice called after him, "You forget this, Potter?" Harry turned, noticing the slim object in his hands. Draco would have to have been blind to not see the red stain on the edge of it. Just as Harry thought the boy hadn't noticed, Draco had lifted the knife in wonder, staring at the sharp edge of the blade. "Killing innocents with your pocketknife?" It was still dripping slightly, red and brilliant. Even in the darkness you could see that it was blood. He knew that even Draco couldn't be so stupid. Harry stared at him, his eyes red and his arms held straight at his side, his one wrist curved so that the blood didn't drip to fast, almost as if he was trying not to hit the boy in front of him. His head was pounding; he was starting to feel wearier by the second. "Potter?" The voice sounded nearly concerned.
"You don't look so good, have one to many butter beers today?"
Today... butter beers... Hogsmeade. Harry could barely concentrate, faintly knowing what Draco was talking about. 'Just let me go. Let me find another room to lay down in and die' was all he could think, furious over the injustice of being interrupted. Then came the voice again, only this time less questioning and more concerned, "Seriously... what's wrong with you?" He took a step closer to Harry, looking ready to jump if the boy was to fall.
The storm just outside the window seemed the pick up, howling through the cracks around the room.
"I'm going back to sleep, Draco. Goodnight." He thought he'd gotten away, but instead he winced in pain as Draco seized his arm, just above his cut wrist. He felt the sleeve being drawn back, as he tried weakly, to pull away from him. "What in bloody hell did you do to yourself Potter?!" His eyes were wide, looking at Harry in disbelief. "What are you trying to do, kill yourself?"
'As if you cared, Malfoy' is what Harry thought, bitterness taking over. "It's not your problem." He jerked his arm away, barely able to do so. He was now cold, but sweating at the same time. The door was open and Harry had finally made it out into the hall, a cool rush of air hitting him. But, just as he was free from Draco's eyes, he felt himself crumble down, falling hard to the floor.
Everything became slower to him, his breathing became slower and rhythmic, and everything he heard around him became slowed down and far away. "What is he doing out here, boy?" He could hear Filch's voice, a million miles away, and then the reply, "I don't know, sir. I found him like this."
His eyes were closed now, as well as his ears. He felt like he'd been locked in a desolate room without light or sound. He could feel himself moving, but not knowing how it was happening. His legs certainly weren't moving, so he came to a conclusion that he was floating.
Draco followed Filch, having drawn up an invisible stretcher to put Potter on. He didn't want to explain himself, so he simply said he was out patrolling and had found the boy just before Filch had appeared around the corner. Once they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had shooed him away. He gladly made his was back to his dorm, only worrying subconsciously about what was wrong with Potter.
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