"I hate Charms, I hate Flitwick. I hate classes all together," grumbled Draco as he walked toward the common room. "I'm done with classes today..."
He reached a large tapestry of Salazar Slytherin, pulled it aside, walked down the corridor behind it, took the right fork at then end of the corridor, down a flight of stairs skipping the third, seventh, eleventh and eighteenth stairs, and stopped at the third tapestry to the left. He put his hand on the fabric, and whispered, "Cruentus, virga." The tapestry rolled up, revealing a doorway. Draco lay his hand gently on this, too, and the door pushed itself open as though blown by a breeze. He stomped through the common room, and headed straight for the girl's dormitory. Draco stood defiantly at the bottom of the staircase, looking up as though waiting for something.
"Blaise!" he called, "Come down here!"
A few moments later, Blaise's bright red hair could be seen at the top of the dark stairs.
"Where've you been?" asked Draco, though he well knew the answer. He was simply at a loss for something to say to her.
"Fiona made me go see Madam Pomphrey. I told her I could take care of it myself, but she made me go," Blaise sat heavily down on a black pouf by the fire. Blaise hated people, not because she was a rude sort of person, but because she just didn't like the contact. She preferred her mother and her close friends to new people.
"Well... you needed to go, really," Draco said softly, moving to a nearby armchair and pulling it closer to Blaise. "Let me see," he said, reaching out his hand. Blaise gently lay both her hands in one of his, and he peeled away the bandages.
"You're all soaked in blood," Draco said, shocked. He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and lightly wiped it across her palms.
"Yes... It burned right through my skin. The good news is that I haven't hardly any blisters at all," said Blaise lightly, turning her face to the warm flames.
"The bad news is, you haven't hardly any skin at all to have blisters on," sighed Draco, looking at the space where her eyes used to be.
"It's my own fault. Had I been paying closer attention, I would have remembered to lower the temperature of the flame."
"And if I'd been tending my own potion," said Draco, "you'd not have had to worry about it at all."
"You know I don't mind doing two potions. I love Potions."
"Blaise, I'm sorry," Draco said quickly. He couldn't stand her making excuses for him. He stood, kissing her lightly on the forehead and retreating to the back of the common room. "You know I am..." he finished, almost to convince himself.
"Yes. I know," Blaise answered. And she did know. If only he knew, though... if only he really knew.
Draco returned to the fire holding a spool of white cotton bandages, the salve Madam Pomphery had given Blaise, and his wand. He sat back down on the puffy two-person armchair, took Blaise's hands and began casting an intricate charm on them.
"Draco, I don't know if you should be doing this..." said Blaise. Draco had always been so awful at Charms.
"Don't worry, this one I've had plenty of practice with." He ended the charm by very lightly tapping Blaise's wrists with his wand, and drawing the wand around her hands in a large loop. With a flick, Blaise could feel the burning pain lessen.
"The only bad thing about this charm is that its awfully hard to do on your own shoulders and back," sighed Draco, running the fingers of his left hand over his right shoulder.
He then put his wand on the table, and applied a heavy layer of salve, and began wrapping bandages.
"You know, you haven't saved me a trip by this," said Blaise. "I have to go see Madam Pomphery anyway... "
"But she wouldn't know this charm, would she? And then you'd be in pain again an hour later," Draco said, sealing the end of the bandage with his wand. He turned her hands over in his, admiring his handiwork. He pulled her up off the pouf, and propped his feet upon it.
"Here, sit in a proper chair," said Draco, moving over a bit to give her room. Blaise curled into the armchair with him, her head on his shoulder. He flinched a bit, but didn't ask her to move, even when she snaked her arm over his stomach, resting her hand lightly on his arm. Her eyes drooped, as Draco knew they would. It was a powerful charm he'd cast, and he knew it would make her sleepy. He'd experienced it so many times before.
"Love you, Draco..." mumbled Blaise.
He looked at her long and hard afterward, his eyes sad and his heart filled with a certain something that he wasn't quite used to. He looked into the fire, thinking.
"I know," he answered finally, and when he looked back at her, she was asleep.
He reached a large tapestry of Salazar Slytherin, pulled it aside, walked down the corridor behind it, took the right fork at then end of the corridor, down a flight of stairs skipping the third, seventh, eleventh and eighteenth stairs, and stopped at the third tapestry to the left. He put his hand on the fabric, and whispered, "Cruentus, virga." The tapestry rolled up, revealing a doorway. Draco lay his hand gently on this, too, and the door pushed itself open as though blown by a breeze. He stomped through the common room, and headed straight for the girl's dormitory. Draco stood defiantly at the bottom of the staircase, looking up as though waiting for something.
"Blaise!" he called, "Come down here!"
A few moments later, Blaise's bright red hair could be seen at the top of the dark stairs.
"Where've you been?" asked Draco, though he well knew the answer. He was simply at a loss for something to say to her.
"Fiona made me go see Madam Pomphrey. I told her I could take care of it myself, but she made me go," Blaise sat heavily down on a black pouf by the fire. Blaise hated people, not because she was a rude sort of person, but because she just didn't like the contact. She preferred her mother and her close friends to new people.
"Well... you needed to go, really," Draco said softly, moving to a nearby armchair and pulling it closer to Blaise. "Let me see," he said, reaching out his hand. Blaise gently lay both her hands in one of his, and he peeled away the bandages.
"You're all soaked in blood," Draco said, shocked. He took a silk handkerchief from his pocket and lightly wiped it across her palms.
"Yes... It burned right through my skin. The good news is that I haven't hardly any blisters at all," said Blaise lightly, turning her face to the warm flames.
"The bad news is, you haven't hardly any skin at all to have blisters on," sighed Draco, looking at the space where her eyes used to be.
"It's my own fault. Had I been paying closer attention, I would have remembered to lower the temperature of the flame."
"And if I'd been tending my own potion," said Draco, "you'd not have had to worry about it at all."
"You know I don't mind doing two potions. I love Potions."
"Blaise, I'm sorry," Draco said quickly. He couldn't stand her making excuses for him. He stood, kissing her lightly on the forehead and retreating to the back of the common room. "You know I am..." he finished, almost to convince himself.
"Yes. I know," Blaise answered. And she did know. If only he knew, though... if only he really knew.
Draco returned to the fire holding a spool of white cotton bandages, the salve Madam Pomphery had given Blaise, and his wand. He sat back down on the puffy two-person armchair, took Blaise's hands and began casting an intricate charm on them.
"Draco, I don't know if you should be doing this..." said Blaise. Draco had always been so awful at Charms.
"Don't worry, this one I've had plenty of practice with." He ended the charm by very lightly tapping Blaise's wrists with his wand, and drawing the wand around her hands in a large loop. With a flick, Blaise could feel the burning pain lessen.
"The only bad thing about this charm is that its awfully hard to do on your own shoulders and back," sighed Draco, running the fingers of his left hand over his right shoulder.
He then put his wand on the table, and applied a heavy layer of salve, and began wrapping bandages.
"You know, you haven't saved me a trip by this," said Blaise. "I have to go see Madam Pomphery anyway... "
"But she wouldn't know this charm, would she? And then you'd be in pain again an hour later," Draco said, sealing the end of the bandage with his wand. He turned her hands over in his, admiring his handiwork. He pulled her up off the pouf, and propped his feet upon it.
"Here, sit in a proper chair," said Draco, moving over a bit to give her room. Blaise curled into the armchair with him, her head on his shoulder. He flinched a bit, but didn't ask her to move, even when she snaked her arm over his stomach, resting her hand lightly on his arm. Her eyes drooped, as Draco knew they would. It was a powerful charm he'd cast, and he knew it would make her sleepy. He'd experienced it so many times before.
"Love you, Draco..." mumbled Blaise.
He looked at her long and hard afterward, his eyes sad and his heart filled with a certain something that he wasn't quite used to. He looked into the fire, thinking.
"I know," he answered finally, and when he looked back at her, she was asleep.