CHAPTER SIX
[Silhouette]
HARRY
Harry was frustrated. He always was with Malfoy around, but this time was different. It wasn't just because his insult had reached a little too far this time, it was because just for a tiny sliver of a moment he thought he saw some good in his classmate. Apparently, he was mistaken.
He grabbed the nearest pillow to take his frustration out on. He hated being like this. It wasn't like him to get violent. It scared him at times.
He sighed with his head in his hands and limped over to the bay window. The day's events were flying through his head like wild snitches. Draco-fucking-Malfoy, of all people, had somehow come to his rescue. Despite how he hated how it sounded, it was true. Uncle Vernon would have beat him to a pulp if Malfoy hadn't made him snap to his senses in time.
But Harry would still have to go back to that wretched house to get his trunk and wand. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine alone. Going back so soon would be signing his death warrant. The Durselys might have even snapped everything in half already, it wouldn't be new of them...
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a small tapping on the window. Harry's mood did a 180 when he saw Hedwig dancing in front of the glass to be let in. The owl hooted gratefully when he opened the panel. Harry went to pet her but she nipped roughly at his finger.
"Ow! Hey, I didn't mean to leave you there! I was in a rush, you know how it is... Besides, you found me anyway, right? Just like you always do."
Hedwig hooted again and flew toward a plate of food he had just realized was there. His stomach rumbled at the thought of a hot meal. Harry stood up, wincing as his foot made contact with the ground, and walked over to it. The plate was filled with sausage, bacon, fried eggs, toast, and even some treacle tart. His mouth watered at the sight of it.
He decided to split the toast between him and Hedwig, seeing as she can go out and hunt for herself, and saved the rest for himself. He ate as fast as his stomach allowed him too. Before he knew it, his plate was empty, leaving him with only a bellyache.
Harry sat and ranted to his feathery friend for a minute before Malfoy came walking back in the room looking much more solemn than before. Harry bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything.
They sat in silence as Harry watched Malfoy sit on the edge of his bed and glared at the wall.
Harry wanted to feel mad at the boy but he couldn't stop himself from smiling at how much the blond prat looked like a pouting six-year-old who just got told off for being up past their bedtime.
Malfoy looked over at him. "What's so amusing, Potter?" He sneered but it only made Harry want to laugh more. How had he never made this connection before!
"What are you laughing at?"
"Y..You.." He says between bursts of laughs wheezing. It wasn't doing anything for his sore ribs but he just couldn't help himself. "Merlin's beard, you look like pouting six-year-old.."
"I do not!"
Harry wiped a tear from his face. "Yes. You do."
Malfoy huffed. "For your information, I was thinking about how to fix our situation. Now, if you would stop being such a child-"
"You're the one to talk."
Draco glared at him. "If you would stop being such a child, you would help me. It's your rubbish anyways that needs rescuing."
The previous tension between the two was now gone. Though Harry would be lying if he said he still didn't feel anything between them. Until now, Harry always thought it was just because of the rivalry they had, but as he thought about it more, it was always there. Since the first day they met in the robe shop, Harry knew.
Harry dismissed the thoughts away. There was no point in thinking about it now. He had to focus on getting his wand back. He felt vulnerable without it. And now that he was out of the Dursely's house, the chance of being attacked had doubled.
"If I had my wand this would be much easier. I could just do a delusion charm and we would be right in." Malfoy went on, "We might have to reply on a potion or pre-charmed item. Polyjuice would be ideal but I doubt we'll be able to find a store selling it. I might be able to brew some? No no, the recipe takes over a month..."
Harry leaned against the headboard to listen but winced loudly when his back hit the wall. Malfoy suddenly stops his one-sided discussion and looks over. It was clear he was concerned but trying not to show it.
"Are you okay?"
"It's fine," he grunts, his face twisting in pain as he tried to sit up again. "Go on."
"I didn't go through all this trouble to get you out of that house for you to wallop in your pain. What hurts?"
"Does it really matter?"
Harry didn't know why Malfoy was so suddenly concerned in his health. It wasn't like it was affecting him. He figured the only reason Malfoy dragged him out of that house in the first place was to save his own arse. Did he actually care about what happened to him? Dumbledore knew yet had to help him. (Part of the reason he felt he deserved it. If the greatest wizard of all time did nothing, there had to be some reason for his suffering.) Even Ron to some extent. So why did Draco?
Draco scoffs. "Of course it matters. A child shouldn't be hit or by someone they should be able to look up too and trust. It...It's heart-shattering. No one should live that way."
"I'm not a child. I can deal with it myself." Harry mutters with defiance clear in his voice.
"Fine then. Since you're too heroic to save your self, how would you think this would make others feel? What would Granger and Weasley do if they found out?"
Harry didn't take time to notice how he had used their proper names before firing back. "I don't know, okay? Rejoice? Cry? Why do you care, anyway? This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? See spoiled little Potter get exactly what he deserves..."
DRACO
Draco recoiled slightly at his words. Did Potter really mean that? Did he really think he deserved that? He couldn't help but feel as he was shot with the killing curse. It was partially his fault that the raven-haired boy in front of him felt that way. Once again, Draco hated who he had become. Or, who his father made him become.
Draco took a step closer to the boy, though, he hesitated when Potter glared at him. He gulped. He wanted to apologize for everything he had said over the years yet he was scared for some reason. Maybe it was the fear of getting rejected. Or maybe he was just scared of what his father would do if he found out he wasn't perfect little doll anymore.
"Show me where you're hurt and maybe I can fix it." Was the best he was able to do at the moment.
Potter raised an eyebrow. "...you?"
He lifted his chin. "Yes, Potter. I know a few things here or there about the subject."
If he was being honest with himself, he knew more than stuff just here and there. The Manor library was huge and he prided himself on having read nearly every medical book there was. Being a Healer was his secret passion. Just another thing he could never act on.
"Well...my ankle mostly. And my back. There's also my chest. It hurts to breathe."
He was hesitant to tell Draco this information. Draco guessed he felt odd about sharing such personal information to a person he would be normally glaring daggers at. He couldn't blame him.
"Are they superficial or internal?" Harry scrunched up his nose in confusion. Draco sighed. "I mean does it hurt on the outside or on the inside."
"Oh, um, on my back it's mostly some bruises. Maybe some cuts. My ribs and ankle hurt on the inside." He was clearly embarrassed by having Draco simplify it for him. Heat blossomed in Draco's chest all the way down to his toes when he saw the faint pink blossom across Potter's cheeks.
Draco cleared his throat to focus. "Yes, well, I'll have to go ask Bramble for some bandages and whatnot. Try not to put too much pressure on anything while I'm gone. We don't need the Boy-Who-Lived dying on us..."
He picked up Potter's finished dinner plate from the table as he made his way to the door. Draco couldn't help but look back at Harry. The boy was perfection in coffee hues; his hair was the color of dark roasted beans but his skin was all latte. He had that shy look about him teens often get when they've grown too much too fast, like they aren't really sure about being a man just yet. He was skinny, but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath, likely from his years of playing Quidditch.
Draco's heart clenched. How could someone hate someone so..so...perfect. He'd wanted to hate him just like his father did for long but could never bring himself to do so. Something about him just radiated warmth.
Draco came back five minutes later with his arms full of various medical supplies. As he started organizing on the bedside table he noticed Harry was lost in thought. His eyes were glazed over in a saddened state.
"Potter," He says. He frowns when he doesn't get a reaction. "Potter," He repeats a little louder. He places a hand on the boy's shoulder to get him to snap out of it. Harry suddenly pulls back as though he was burned.
Draco decided not to press for answers despite his worry. He had already pushed more boundaries than most likely get in weeks.
"Potter, can you please remove your shirt?"
Harry bit his lip. He clearly was nervous but still obliged. "Fine..."
Very slowly he started pulling the fabric of his thin body. It was a very tedious job as he didn't want to reawaken any old wounds. Draco had to stifle the small gasp that came from him.
Harry holds his arm to the light, his skin ghostly in the glow of the moon. On each arm there are great purple welts that will only deepen over the coming week. Bruises and cuts were scattered across his abdomen like a disease. The worst of it was on his back. There were years worth of scaring hidden underneath the freshly made gashes and swelling.
Draco felt something in his chest break. Draco knew abuse like the back of his hand but his father had never left a physical mark on him (if you didn't count the mark on the forearm). Something about seeing if front of him made it seem all too vivid.
Draco tried to redirect his attention to keep Harry from feeling uncomfortable. Harry caught on anyways and looked the opposite way. Draco realized he had been waiting for a reaction.
"How bad is it?"
Draco held his breath. There were at least one or two bruised ribs he could see. Some of the cuts looked like they were affected as well. His ankle could be broken yet he couldn't be sure yet. He's lucky he's wizard, Draco thought, or else this would be much more painful.
"It'll take time." He concludes after mauling it over in his head. "But it can be healed. Nothing seems to be permanent." He picks up a small glass bottle filled with a purple-ish liquid. "Drink this. It'll numb the pain."
He takes it and mumbles a small 'thank you'. Harry tips his head back to drink it but stops as the bottle reaches his lips.
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, Potter?"
"Why do you care so much?" His bright, emerald eyes were filled with so much emotion it was impossible to tell exactly what he was feeling. Draco stopped what he was doing to look down at the boy.
Why did he care so much? He was putting himself at risk just by being here. He could have just left as soon as he got Potter to safely yet he hadn't. If he was being honest with himself, he could have even alerted the Deatheaters to Potter's location if he wanted too. His father would even be proud of him for once.
"Believe it or not Potter, I'm not a complete ignorant prat. I know when there are boundaries and when or when I haven't crossed them. You just happened to be passed that point."
He didn't know idea how true the statement was. Draco didn't take the time to find out. He wanted to move on from the conversation as it was rapidly becoming too personal.
He squeezes some of the salve on his hand. "This is going to hurt."
