Ways of the Friendship Potion
By: Ashie
Chapter Eight: Searing Pain
Harry had confined himself to his bed for the rest of the day, and the next. He cast a silencing charm around his four-post bed, and a type of shield charm to keep anyone from being able to open the curtains. He lied there all day, in complete and utter depression. He felt as if his heart had died. It was, if not more, as painful as when Sirius had fallen through the veil.
He had lied there, still in his robes from the day before, weeping bitterly at the unfairness of it all. He felt torn, like there were two people inside of him, fighting for his consciousness; one part of him loved Draco, when there was no trace of hatred or rivalry; and the other part of him remembered the Malfoy that he despised with a passion, his rival for over five years. He no longer was sure of his feelings, if he loved Draco, or hated Malfoy. It was too confusing for Harry to bare. He eventually shut out all feelings, and like Malfoy, put a mask on to keep his feelings from himself and others.
Hermione had come to the Boy's Dormitory a few times, trying desperately for Harry to come out and tell her what happened. He would just ignore her, lie there, staring up at his canopy, and convince himself to believe that he didn't care about Draco. Or Malfoy. Or whoever he was to him now…
Ron, on the other hand, didn't try to get Harry to come out. Harry had heard nothing out of him except a quiet mumble of, "I told you, Harry." Harry's pride was hurt beyond belief. He had been wrong about his best friend (err…rival), and yet Ron had known what was bound to happen.
So after lying in bed for two days, Harry came to the conclusion that lying in bed wouldn't help, and that he'd have to try and go on, with or without Draco.
And so, he pulled himself out of bed before everyone else, grabbed a pair of fresh clothes, and headed to the showers. Then he walked to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. When he entered, he was the only one there, and it stayed that way for a half-hour. Then students slowly started filing in, and each one started whispering when they saw him. Harry just made sure his mask was in place, and continued eating.
Soon later, Hermione and Ron entered, and were quite surprised to see him sitting there, reading his Transfiguration textbook. Hermione sat down next to him, and Ron across from her.
"How are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked, placing a hand on his arm. Harry smiled at her.
"Fine, Hermione. And you?" Harry asked her with false cheerfulness. Hermione looked at him worriedly, but gave him a small smile.
"I've been worried about you." Said Hermione, and then looked at Ron. "Well, both of us have been."
Harry quirked a brow. "Why have you been worrying about me?" Harry asked, pretending to be clueless. Hermione and Ron both frowned.
"About Malfoy. We heard what happened…are you okay?"
"You mean about the potion?" Harry laughed. "Why would I care if Malfoy didn't want to be my friend? We are rivals, after all." Harry felt his mask trying to slip, his sorrow wanting to seep through, but he managed to hold his feelings at bay. Ron smiled at him, relieved. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but then smiled.
"That's good, mate." Ron said, reaching over the table to thump Harry on the shoulder. "And we were worried that you were upset about it." Ron shook his head. "I told you, Hermione."
Hermione glared at Ron over her glass of pumpkin juice. Harry heard the Great Hall's doors open, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced at the doors and saw Draco enter, and their eyes met for a moment. Harry wasn't able to read the expression in Draco's eyes, and then they looked away from each other. Harry felt his heart give a painful throb.
Classes were dreadful that day, especially with Gryffindor sharing almost all of them with Slytherin. Harry found it horribly draining to keep himself from thinking about Draco, or even looking his direction. He knew that if he did, it would only hurt him more.
Between classes, Draco was just as ruthless as he had been before the Potion. He'd bump into Harry, make snide remarks, and taunt Ron and Hermione. Harry couldn't believe what was happening. He'd just stand there, stuck between gaping at Draco and glaring at him. Eventually Harry got so fed up that he actually pushed Draco back, a lot harder than he had intended. Draco looked mildly surprised for a split second and then retreated, calling Crabbe and Goyle off.
However, by the last class of the day, he found that he couldn't hold it in anymore. He couldn't pretend to hate Draco. Luckily it was History of Magic, and he could pretend to be asleep. But in reality, he was thinking of Draco, tears leaving his eyes red and puffy. When the class was over, Hermione had noticed immediately, but Harry had shrugged it off saying it was from too much sleep. She didn't seem convinced.
Later that night, the three of them were doing homework in the common room. Ron and Harry were about to head up to bed, but Hermione called Harry back.
"Harry, I know something happened between you and Malfoy," she said hesitantly. Harry just blinked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"I know that something happened between you and Malfoy the day the potion wore off." She sighed. "I've been watching you all day. You've taken on a characteristic that Malfoy has used since first year. You're hiding,"
"Hermione, I have no idea what you're talking about,"
"Yes you do, Harry." Hermione gave him a look of sympathy that Harry hated. "I know you think that you can't tell me or Ron. But you can. You just have to trust us. You're our best friend, Harry; we love you. I don't like to see you hurting like this." She reached over and took Harry's hand. "I want you to know that if you don't think Ron will understand, I will. I was under the Gregory's Unctuous Unction, too. I know how it feels to lose someone you thought was your best friend, if only for a short period of time."
Harry looked down to the ground, letting his bangs cover his eyes. "You can't understand, Hermione. We were under too different circumstances." Harry looked back up at her, a single tear falling down his cheek. "But thank you." Harry got up from his chair, and climbed the stairs to the dormitory.
That Saturday was a Quidditch game, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Harry was awake the entire night before, knowing that the game was going to be the closest he had been to Draco in days.
He laid in bed for hours, thinking about Draco. He didn't know what to do. He wished to just forget about him, and return to their familiar rivalry. These feelings for Draco were unknown territory, and Harry didn't like it. However, he knew that as much as his feelings ripped his soul to pieces he enjoyed loving someone, if only for a short time. He had needed that experience, to love and feel loved. And he knew he wouldn't be the same until he had it again.
By the time the sun rose, he was nauseous and nervous. He lied in bed until Ron had dragged him out, demanding why he wasn't excited.
Harry walked onto the Pitch with the rest of his team, clad in scarlet Quidditch robes. Madame Hooch told them to mount their brooms and rise. They did so, and went into their usual circle above her. Harry tried to ignore the fact that Draco was directly across from him, and concentrated on her releasing the balls.
The Bludgers flew haphazardly into the air, and the Snitch followed. Hooch then blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle straight up. Slytherin caught it, and the game began.
Harry flew straight up, trying to get as far away from Draco as possible, hoping the distance would help his concentration. He circled above the other players for over an hour, watching both teams score. The game was uneventful, and unusually boring for Quidditch match. Gryffindor was up by sixty points, but Slytherin was still fighting.
Harry had seen no sign of the Snitch, and Draco was as still as Harry, tiredly searching for the winged ball. Harry noticed how Draco, for the first time, was on the opposite side of the pitch and not directly next to him.
After another fifteen minutes or so, Harry spotted the Snitch and instantly flew after it. Draco immediately knew what was happening, and was soon on Harry's tail. Then Draco put on a burst of speed and was level with him.
Draco's fingertips were mere inches from the Snitch, as were Harry's. Harry, feeling despair that he didn't seem to have his heart in the game, angrily shoved Draco's arm out of the way.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Potter?" Draco yelled, and then sped up to reclaim his lost ground. They were now very close to the ground, perfectly parallel to it. Harry could hear the cries of excitement from the stands.
They were once again at exact distance from the Snitch. Just as Harry was about to grab it, Draco shoved him.
"Damn it, Malfoy! I nearly had it!" Harry yelled, but not nearly as mad as he should have been. Harry urged his Firebolt on eagerly, and was once again slightly ahead of Draco. Harry felt the Snitch's tiny wing flutter frantically against his fingertips. A second later, Harry closed his hand around it.
"No!" Draco yelled, and pounded Harry in the back angrily. Harry's eyes widened as he was slammed into the ground. He heard his broom snap as its front end hit the ground, and a searing pain in his rib area.
He tumbled across the ground, his side hurting more and more each roll, and screaming in pain. He heard yells from above him as he finally lost momentum and came to a stop. He was lying face up in the grass, his chest tight and something warm spreading from his side.
He heard someone land off to his right, and run to him. He opened his eyes, and even though he didn't have his glasses he could tell it was Draco. Draco dropped to his knees and leaned over him.
"Harry, oh Harry…I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…I didn't mean it…" Draco said frantically, his eyes wide and looking at his side. Harry raised his head a little and looked down to his rib region. The front end of his broom had speared him in the ribs, blood pouring from the wound.
"Draco, it hurts…" Harry put his hand around it, feeling his blood drip onto his hand. He was beginning to feel lightheaded and having trouble breathing. He closed his eyes, and felt a painful tug as Draco pulled the piece of his broom out of him. He felt Draco's hands cover the wound, and heard his frantic breathing.
"The blood won't stop Harry, it won't stop…" Draco sounded slightly hysterical. Harry opened his eyes tiredly and placed his hand on top of Draco's. He could feel the blood seep between their fingers.
Harry held out his other hand and showed Draco the Snitch, which was still amazingly in his hand. "This is for you." He whispered. "I'm sorry."
He heard Draco's breath catch as he took it out of his hand.
Harry laid his head back down onto the grass, trying to keep breathing, but found it more difficult with every breath he took. Coughs began to wrack his thin frame, and he felt speckles of blood fall on his lips and cheeks.
"Draco…" Harry moaned, grabbing his hand tightly, with fear setting in. Draco held his hand, and brushed Harry's bangs off his face. Harry felt Draco's tears hit his face.
"Don't worry, Harry. Dumbledore's here now, you'll be okay." Harry heard Dumbledore call his name before he blacked out.
A.N: I just had to let you all know how much I appreciate all of you that reviewed my last chapter. I haven't gotten that many reviews for a single chapter in two years, which is when I concluded my first story, Harry Potter and the Return of Voldemort. When I saw that I had 26 reviews in twenty four hours, I nearly cried. I was shocked beyond belief. So that's why I updated this chapter so quickly. This update goes out to those 26 reviewers. Hugs and Kisses to you all! And thank you again!