slapstick! with wounds!

Rolling Downhill

Draco stared down at where Harry lay sprawled beside the small pool, a worried expression in his eyes.

"Potter, don't be alarmed, but I think you may be wounded."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me! I'm the one that has to look at the mess you've made of yourself."

"Oh quit being so dramatic, Malfoy. If it were really bad I'd be in shock, and I'm fine. I can't feel anything."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You can't feel anything, you say? Like for instance, you can't feel the giant gaping hole in your shoulder?"

Harry jerked his head off of the ground in an attempt to see the wound and immediately felt the consequences.

"Oh my God! That stupid smurf deer bit me!"

"It didn't bite you, you moron. It gored you with one of its 'oh it's so pretty I've got to touch it,' horns."

"Shut-up."

"Fine. I'll sit here and be quiet while you bleed to death."

"Good. You do that."

"Great."

"…"

"…"

"Malfoy?"

"What, Potter?"

"My arm hurts!"

"Well don't whine at me about it."

"Who else am I going to whine at?"

"Why don't you tell the great blue wonder? I'm sure it'll be back to finish you off soon."

"You don't think it'll really come back? Do you?"

"No."

"But what if it does! What if it just went to get all of its family so that they could share me!"

"Potter, deer are herbivores. Hence its interest in the grass, before you disturbed it."

"But like you said they're not native! It might be some sort of freakish carnivore deer!"

"Again, I point at the grass it was eating."

"We have to get out of here!"

"Shut-up, Potter. Panicking is only going to make you bleed to death faster. Oh, wait, no, go ahead and panic. I bet that deer and its entire herd are packing their steak knives right now. They're coming, Potter, and they're going to eat you up, and you're going to be all alone when you die because I'm going back to the hut now." Draco got up and dusted off his pants. Cringing in horror at the texture of the denim.

"Malfoy…" Harry whined.

"Oh shut-up, ya pansy. I wasn't really going to leave you here. Though God knows why not."

Harry cracked a pained grin. "It's because you lurrrrrve me, you want to maaaaarrrry me. You wanna be my beeeeeeestttttt frieeeeeenddd."

Draco's face curled in on itself so far that Harry was afraid it was going to turn inside out completely. He cackled with glee.

"Scarhead, if you don't promise me to never, ever, say something like that again, I really will leave you here to die. And believe me, it's not the deer that's going to eat you, it's going to be bugs—that's much slower and more painful. But no worries, because like I said, you'd bleed to death first."

Harry tried his best to look contrite. "I promise, I'll never say it again."

Draco looked suspicious. "Ok, then you should try to get up."

The going was surprisingly slow, to Draco at least. Harry thought that it felt like they were running a marathon around the island.

"I know that the bloody hut was this way, and if you don't stop questioning me in that horrible squeaky whine of yours, I will stone you—no, I will coco-not you to death."

"Malfoy, I—I can't breathe. Somethin's wrong."

"Of course something is wrong," Draco answered, his voice only slightly shaky. "You're bleeding quite a lot. First, you'll get dehydrated, and will feel very very bad, and then, and then you'll die, and … and I told you that I don't like the sight of blood!"

"Yes, well pardon me for," Harry gasped, "for showing you my blood when you didn't want to see it."

Draco scoffed. "Ok, there's nothing for it. I thought we'd be back to the shack by now but…well anyway, we're going to have to try to do something about the, the er, the bleeding."

He steered them towards a fallen tree and Harry plopped heavily onto the log. He was a weird color, Draco noted, something between green and blue. Sighing, Draco wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand and looked around. He had no idea what to do, and this was a first. If only his wand worked, he would have been able to fix Harry up with no problems whatsoever. He tried desperately to remember something from Herbology that might help, but nothing was coming to mind.

Harry waved a hand absently at a nearby plant. "The leaves," he said, clinging to the log, trying not to give into the nausea and pass out. "Pick those leaves and chew on them a bit." He was only mildly surprised when Malfoy immediately headed towards the shrub.

"If you knew what to do, Potter, why didn't you say something before."

"Didn't think it was so bad. I have first-aid at the hut."

"Yes, well you're stupid. You seriously want me to chew these things?" he held up a handful of leaves.

"You have to, saliva and the sap--they numb and help clotting."

"Revolting."

"It's not like I love the idea of your spit in my wound."

Draco cringed.

Harry grinned lazily. "All mixed up with my blood, forming scabs and working its way into my system."

Draco gagged, then glared at Harry and resolutely shoved the leaves into his mouth and chewed. "Thish ishn't gnna do anythin weird to me ish it?"

Harry laughed and gave a pained groan. "No. Well, nothing too bad anyway. You may feel a little—relaxed."

Draco spat the leaves into his hand. "You've got me chewing drugs?"

Harry nodded.

"You are such a bastard, Potter!" Draco roughly pulled Harry's shirt aside and shoved some of the leaf/spit into the wound.

Harry grimaced, and scooped the rest of the mixture out of Malfoy's hand, pushing him away. "I'll do that, thanks."

Draco shrugged and turned his back to the boy, horrified by what he'd just done. Once he'd calmed he turned back, only to see Harry sloppily trying to get the mixture into and around the exit wound on his back. He sighed. "Let me do it, Potter. I'll be nicer."

Harry hung his head and gave a slight nod.

Malfoy gasped when he looked at Harry's back, which to Harry was a sign that everything was not of the good. He couldn't really bring himself to care right now though. He was so lightheaded, that he barely felt anything at all anymore. He may even have nodded off.

"Potter, wake up ya git. I'm not gonna bloody carry yous and we haves to get back to the shack before dark. Do we all remembers what maybe happens to the shack at nighttime kiddos?"

Harry squinted. Something was wrong with Malfoy. "D'you get goreded?" he slurred.

Malfoy giggled. "Goreded? Naw. 'S yer stupid druuuuuugssss, Moron. Knew'd I shoulda made you chew em."

"Shoulda shoulda coulda."

Malfoy giggled again. Harry rather liked that sound.

"Hey, Potty, we should take more of the leaveses with us, for like later."

"Yeah. Yeah we should. You are so smart. I mean, you're like the smartest boy ever. I'd say you were the smartest thing, but then there's Hermi….Hermoi…God, her name is so shtupid."

Draco snorted. "'S a flower, Dumbaasssss. Bass...baaasssssss…."

"Okey dokey," Harry heaved himself into a sitting position. At some point they'd fallen off the log. "Lets get our leaves and skeedaddle."

Malfoy giggled as he crawled over to the shrub and stuffed his pockets full of leaves. "When we get home I'm gonna plant this in mum's garden. She'll like, it's all pretty and shtuff."

Harry laughed. "S'illegal."

"Sho? I does illegals all the time."

Harry sniggered. "Shtupid crook."

"I'm not a crock!"

"Croooook."

"Oh."

"We have to go. That deer'll be back soon. He was all plotty, I can tell. He's planning."

"Yeah, shit. Le's go."

"Goin."

"Yup."

"Malfoy?"

"Wha?"

"Where we goin?"