Nightshade

Hi everybody, sorry for the delay in updates, I've had some things going on. I have had a pretty unhappy past two weeks so forgive me if it leaks into my writing. Oh well, depression helps me write. Oh yeah, I watched Latter Days yesterday, which sort of inspired me to write this next chapter. Lol, yeah, it's a funny movie, and the guys are really really cute . oh yeah, it's about a gay couple, so if you're squicky don't watch it, and if you're squicky, I don't even know why you're reading my fic. Lol.

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Harry considered himself in the bathroom mirror. It was more a focus on his scar, which had been aching as of late. It never changed in appearance, as far as Harry could tell, it was the same size, shape and color that it had always been, but when the pain hit him, the scar would turn into a pickaxe constantly trying to crack open his skull. He wished that he could just charm it away. When he had come to Hogwarts as a first year, the was the first spell he wanted to learn. Unfortunately, there wasn't a single spell in all of wizardry that could make *this* scar disappear. It was cursed, they said, by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and a curse from him would last forever.

There was something else too, besides the scar. His hair, he decided, his hair was worse than his scar. He knew people always commented on it, the messiness - oh he was just too unkempt. And his eyes, he mourned, they were the colour of death, of betrayal. It sickened him.

Harry slammed his fist into his reflection and watched as it shattered around him. He realized instantly that he had several shards of glass in his arm and sighed remorsefully. There really wasn't any way out of this one.

After he had picked out the larger shards of glass, he put on his robes and left the bathroom. Seamus was already waiting outside to take a shower, but when he saw blood running down Harry's arm onto the stone floor, he exclaimed, "Jesus Harry, what happened?"

Harry stopped, looked contemplatively at his profusely bleeding arm and whispered, "Accident" before continuing on his way to the infirmary. He chided himself for giving into impulse again and ending up futilely getting hurt.

Seamus still stared open mouthed at him, but Harry would have none of it. "I'm sorry, Seamus, but could you please clean up in the bathroom for me? This," he pointed at the injury with his good arm, "probably shouldn't wait."

Worriedly, Seamus nodded and brought out his wand from the folds of his graying cloak. Harry continued on his way, he was down the stairs from the boy's dormitory by now, and the Hospital Wing seemed infinitely further. There was nobody in the common room, as it was still very early. He left silently, hoping he wasn't dripping blood on the floor.

Harry was having trouble walking at this point, and his breathing was very shallow. He was so angry with himself for not being able to close his own wound with magic.

Blood was still dripping on everything by the time he got down to the fifth floor, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to walk any longer. He sat down against a wall and lifted his injured arm onto his knee, so as to keep it slightly elevated at the least.

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"Oh shit." Draco whispered under his breath. He had only come up to use the Prefects' Bath, but he found Harry motionless on the floor. Harry's face was death pale and Draco could smell the distinct coppery scent of blood. This wasn't good at all.

After several failed attempts at waking Harry, Draco pulled his wand out and cast Mobilicorpus. He didn't consider what would happen to him should he be seen by a student, this was a reaction to impending death. He couldn't just leave Harry.

After a stressful five minutes of walking and making sure he didn't bump Harry into any walls, Draco finally arrived at the Hospital Wing. He levitated Harry in front of him and accidentally dropped him onto the nearest bed too roughly, as it jarred him awake.

"Malfoy?" Harry squinted and reached around for his glasses.

"I didn't want to break them," And Draco returned the spectacles.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to place the glasses over his eyes, but the pain from his still-injured forced him to drop them on his lap. Draco didn't reply. He stared for a while at the ground and seemed to have made up his mind. With clenched teeth, he silently left the room.

Less than a minute later, he returned with a very angry looking nurse. She glared at Draco, who looked confused and slightly irritated, as if he had been insulted.

"Mr. Potter! What happened to your arm?" She commanded.

"My arm? Oh, it was just an accident." He replied vaguely. He really would rather not have said anything about it, especially in front of Draco, who was still standing beside the bed looking distinctly aggravated.

Pompfrey forced Harry to sit up and pulled Harry's robes off, annoyed as she realized he hadn't worn anything underneath. Draco's eyes widened and he immediately turned around, embarrassed. Harry had lost too much blood to understand their reactions, he hadn't even noticed. Madam Pompfrey quickly murmured some charms to stop the bleeding, but keep the wounds open so that the glass could be removed, and she brought Harry a bottle of something that smelled suspiciously like Skele-Grow.

"Drink the entire bottle. It's to replenish your blood quickly." She turned to Draco, "Mr. Malfoy, how did this happen?"

"I don't know." He was still angry with her and with the situation, "I just found him lying there in front of the Prefects' Bath. Figured I'd have to bring him here." He said defensively.

"I'm still here, you know." Harry giggled up at them, burping as he did so.

Draco just stared at him perplexedly. Harry was sitting up in the bed, still half naked as the blanket was pooled around his lap.

"Don't mind him, it's the potion. He'll be like that for a while. You don't know how he was injured?" Draco shook his head and Madam Pompfrey huffed, "You can go then."

Draco nodded and stared at Harry, who was comically waving goodbye with his good arm.

"Mr. Potter, you have a dangerous amount of glass in you. Hold still!" Harry was still squirming around like a child, attempting to avoid the cold metal tweezers.

Draco sighed, coming back into view. He had heard the struggle and figured that he should help. "Madam Pompfrey, why don't you just cast Petrificus Totalus?" He asked while pulling out his wand.

"No, we can't do that. It'll tense up all of his muscles and it will be impossible to remove the glass that way. I don't want it to injure any more of his muscles, as many of them are already severed." She remarked, "I should have waited to give him the potion, he would've been easier to work with."

Draco sighed again, loud enough so she could hear, and yelled, "STOP MOVING!"

Harry whimpered once and immediately started to cry. Draco almost broke out in laughter at the completely ridiculous display. Harry Fucking Potter was crying like a little girl, oh he wouldn't forget this any time soon.

The crying at least made Harry stop squirming and Madam Pompfrey was able to pull out all of the glass. By the end of it, Harry was subdued and mostly back to his normal self. Normal, if one could call it that.

"Mr. Potter, this injury was no accident. I'm not here just to patch you up, and Mr. Malfoy might not find you next time. If I see this again, you're going straight to Professor Dumbledore." With that, she left their presence.

Harry tried to look guilty as Pompfrey went back into her office to sort out the paperwork, but when she was gone, he grinned ardently at Draco. "You, uh, brought me up here, huh?"

Draco was taken aback by the question. The answer was obvious, but he didn't like Harry's insinuation. Damn that potion for wearing off, at least if it had continued having its disastrous effect, he would have been able to leave quietly.

"I was up there to use the Prefects' bath, but you were in the way. It was only a matter of moving you." He attempted a condescending glare.

"Right, right." Harry looked down into his lap, "And you're sure it wasn't just an attempt to see me naked?"

"Fuck off, Potter." And Draco fled to the Prefects' Bath.

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Draco Malfoy, Harry thought, was just another distraction. He did realize a physical attraction but it didn't bother him. These things were all in passing. He was without choice; he was overwhelmed by an obligation to destroy everybody's greatest fear. There was no choice, but he could afford what luxuries his life had to offer until that point, until that day. He hated being unhappy, it only felt like wasted time. He might die when the time came, and he might live. Until then, these moments would have to do.

He could not fear Voldemort, or even his own conceptions of himself. So his scar was pain, so his hair was an object of ridicule, so his eyes were death, what did it matter? There was no choice to it, just as there was no choice in defeating Voldemort. These moments would have to do.

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Woo! Done with this chapter. I wanted to add in a funny drunken Harry scene waving maniacally and crying like a little girl and I'm just too happy that I got to put it in. I only hope it flows with the rest of the story. Anyway, I think every story needs a little comic relief here and there, or else it'd just be a stress ball depressing story that would make people want to go and kill themselves. Not suggesting anything, here x.x

Alrighty, please leave a review because they keep me going and they make me feel…I dunno, like I've accomplished something. And it helps me correct a lot of stuff in my future writing. Seriously, subconsciously or not, I take this stuff to heart. I love it when people just…like, want me to post another one fast. It's like, yay! They can't wait to read it! Oh no, am I babbling? Alright, I'm done with that. Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing!

-Tara