A/N: WARNING—No soap opera is complete without a dramatic hospital scene!
THE LOVE THAT FOLLOWS
Chapter 6—For the Last Time
Draco looked beautiful.
That was the one thought that Harry kept coming back to as he gazed down at Malfoy's sleeping face. Draco looked beautiful. His bed was near a window, and a tiny sliver of moonlight had sliced through the clouds to fall perfectly across his face, making his pale skin shine like silver and hair appear a glimmering bone white.
"You really are so beautiful," Harry whispered, trying to swallow past the large lump in his throat, the one that had been there ever since he had first cracked open the door to the Hospital Wing and slipped inside, carefully pulling up a chair beside Malfoy's bed and staring down at him, willing himself not to cry.
Draco was beautiful, and Harry was heartbroken.
"I wish it had been real," he said quietly, longing to reach out and stroke Malfoy's brow, but firmly keeping his hands clasped in his lap. He would not even allow himself to so much as hold Malfoy's hand, feeling like he had already physically violated Draco enough for an entire lifetime; he refused to add any more reasons why Malfoy should hate him come morning. "Even if things between us had gotten as messy and horrible as they did…I still wish it had been real, instead of…" But he could not finish the sentence out loud, scooting his chair a fraction closer instead and trying to cheer himself up by reminding himself that Draco was not actually a suicidal mess in need of hospitalization; he was simply a victim of a disgusting potion.
Well, not unless he now needs to be hospitalized as a result of the trauma he'll have when he wakes up and realized that I helped him practically assault himself, Harry thought wryly, hating himself at the thought. Twice.
"Please don't hate me too much," Harry whispered, hating himself even more as he finally broke, allowing himself to reach out one hand and comb his fingers lightly through Malfoy's hair, sweeping it from his pale forehead. "Please don't hate me too much when I tell you. I swear that I never knew, Draco, I swear it! If I had known, I would never have…" A quiet sob tore its way from his throat, and he swallowed the tears as he gazed mournfully down at the other boy, lying so still and unmoving on the narrow hospital bed. "I would never have allowed it to go that far, I would never have allowed it to progress to the point that you almost…" But Harry could not finish that sentence out loud, either.
"We never even got to go on a real date," he continued in a soft murmur, shifting closer. "I never even got to buy you a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks or hold your hand in the corridor. I never even got to introduce you to my friends as my boyfriend." And now I'll never get the chance.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring remorsefully down at Draco. Some distant part of his mind was aware of the way the sky outside was slowly lightening, becoming a gradual swirl of rose pinks and pale greys, mixed with the dim baby blue of the vanishing night sky, fading from deep navy into a sunrise that Harry could only describe as depressing. Oh, god, why had morning come so quickly? Harry wasn't ready!
"Mr Potter," a sudden voice said from the other side of the room, and Harry jumped, automatically yanking the hand still stroking Draco's hair back under the Cloak, heart pounding furiously as he turned to find Madam Pomfrey standing near her office, one hand on her hip as she gazed toward him in exasperation. "I know you're there, I heard your voice and I saw your hand, for Merlin's sake."
Feeling sheepish, Harry tugged the Cloak off and folded it nervously in his arms, looking down at the floor. The sound of approaching footsteps sent his heart racing even faster as he wondered what she would do to him. Would he be punished for sneaking back in after he had been expressly forbidden to stay? Would she throw him from the Hospital Wing before Harry had a chance to speak to Draco? Had Harry lost all chances to talk to Draco before the blond reverted back to being Malfoy?
"Here," she said above him, and Harry glanced up in surprise to find her holding a teacup out to him. Reaching out automatically, he accepted it, still feeling surprise course through him. What on earth had he done to deserve tea? She eyed him sadly for a minute before taking a seat in a nearby chair. "Minerva told me what happened," she said in a quiet voice, and Harry blinked against sudden tears, sipping his tea carefully. "I went to speak to her after you left about what had occurred with Mr Malfoy and she told me what she had also learned. I'm…" her voice trailed off for a moment and Harry wondered what she had been about to say. "I'm so very sorry, Harry," she finished, in a voice much kinder than Harry thought he deserved. "I'm so sorry that this has happened to you."
"He's the one you should be sorry for," he whispered, "not me. He's the one who—who—"
"I can be sorry for the both of you," she interrupted, "and I am. It's an awful, dreadful thing to have happened, and I am so very sorry for the both of you."
"He almost died," Harry continued in the same blank whisper, eyes not moving from Draco's face. "He almost died. All because…" his eyes burned hotly and his throat felt dry, despite the steaming tea he was still sipping mechanically, unsure what else to do with it, "because of that stupid potion. Because of something he had only thought he felt. But it wasn't real. It had never been real. And if he had actually died for it—" Harry cut himself off before he could start crying. He could not stop replaying the memory of Draco's face right before he tried to throw himself out of the tower window; Harry felt as though he would never stop being haunted by the memory.
"But he didn't," Pomfrey said softly, "he didn't, Harry. He is still alive and healthy. Professor Gladstone stayed up last night brewing an antidote and Mr Malfoy will be fine, I promise."
"But he'll hate me," the brunet whispered fearfully, unsure just what sort of strange power Madam Pomfrey seemed to possess that made him want to open up and admit all of his fears to her. "He'll hate me even more than he did before any of this. I would certainly hate me."
"He'll know that it wasn't your fault," said the older woman in a kind voice, "he'll know it wasn't you who did this. You are every bit as much a victim as he is."
"Can I be the one?" Harry asked, voice thick with emotion. "Can I be the one to explain it all to him? Please?"
Madam Pomfrey was silent for a long time, and Harry finally glanced over to find her staring at him sorrowfully, gaze sweeping over the brunet as though attempting to pierce his flesh with the power of her stare. "I'm not sure if that will be a good idea, Harry," she said finally, sounding far older than she looked, "for either you or him."
"Please," Harry whispered desperately. "Please, I need it to be me. I need a chance to speak with him again before he goes back to hating me. I promise that I won't take advantage of him in any way, I won't distress him any more than can be helped, but…" he swallowed heavily, eyes shining with unshed tears, "but I just want a chance to say goodbye to him before…"
A sad sigh reached his ears. "Very well then, Harry," she conceded, handing over a vial of liquid. "This is the antidote; he must take the entire vial. Understand, however, that it is very, very difficult to convince a person under the effects of a love potion to actually take the antidote of their own free will. It is nearly always impossible to convince a person under this sort of magical influence that what they are feeling is not real—he will fight you on this, he will argue and defend his feelings, and he will most likely attempt to seduce you out of questioning both him and his attraction for you, do you understand?"
"Yes," Harry swallowed, feeling nervous.
"Persons under love potions," she continued in a warning voice, "have also been known to become physically violent with the individual attempting to convince them their feelings are not real; they have been known to become violent with the object of their obsession. Understand, Mr Potter, that you are placing yourself at risk by doing this."
"I understand," he whispered. "I understand all of it."
"Very well, then," she sighed heavily, climbing to her feet. "But please be careful, all right?"
He nodded.
"Now," she said in a bustling voice, casting several diagnostic spells over Draco, "Mr Malfoy should be waking any minute. The potion I gave him to sleep wore off several minutes ago, so his body will soon begin waking naturally. He seems stable enough at this point, physically, at least, but I have no idea what sort of mental state he will be in upon waking. He may still be right in that very same mindset he was in up in that tower."
At the words, Harry could not fight the shudder that ran through him at the thought of Draco waking up in the same mentality as he had been in when Harry had Stunned him. "I won't let him hurt himself."
"He's not the only one he's capable of hurting," she reminded him gently, and Harry shuddered again.
"I won't let him hurt either of us, I promise." God, Harry did not want to do this. He had never imagined he would ever have to one day do something as horrible as this.
"I'm trusting you to do just that." She patted his shoulder softly, smiling down at him in a motherly way. "Now, I'm going to leave the blinds in my office open, to keep an eye on the both of you just in case. But I promise that I won't listen to your conversation. Is that okay with you?"
"Yes," Harry whispered, a large part of himself grateful that an adult figure would be looking over the two of them and keeping Draco from harming himself if it came to that.
"All right then, Mr Potter, I shall be in my office if you need me." Turning away, she had only taken two strides forward before she snapped her fingers and doubled back. "This is just in case you need it." She pulled another vial of liquid from her pocket, this one a bright saffron color. "This will keep him from becoming hysterical. If you need any help administering either potion to him, just wave at my window and I'll be out in a flash."
"Thank you," he said numbly, placing both potions on the small table near Malfoy's bed. With another pat to his shoulder, Pomfrey turned away and headed into her office, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
"I'm not ready, Draco," Harry whispered, giving in to the temptation to touch him one last time, reaching down to thread his fingers through Malfoy's own cold digits, trying to warm them as best he could as he waited for the blond to open his eyes so Harry could then proceed to shatter his own heart all over Malfoy's drugged illusions.
A twinge of panic shot through Harry's chest as Draco's eyelids fluttered, slowly opening to reveal the smoky grey of his eyes, and Harry felt his heart constrict. At the sight of the sudden hope and naked wonder in Malfoy's gaze, Harry felt his heart squeeze tighter and tighter until it was nothing but a ball of burning pain sitting heavy in his chest like searing lead.
"Harry," Malfoy said in a scratchy voice, and Harry automatically released his hand to pour him a glass of water from the jug next to his bed. The moment Harry let go of his hand, Draco's eyes grew wide with panic and he bolted upright, reaching out to Harry in fear before he realized that Harry was not running away but attempting to get him something to drink. Appearing both relieved and somewhat sheepish, Draco accepted the cup and sipped at the water, drinking nearly half of it before reaching over to set it on the table and turning to eye Harry nervously.
"You're here," he said in a shy, wondrous tone that broke Harry's heart.
"Er, yeah. Yeah, I'm here." But now that Harry was here, he wasn't actually sure if he could do this.
"I thought you would never speak to me again," Draco confessed, reaching out to pick up one of Harry's hands and trap it between his own. "I thought you hated me now."
The words tore a sob from Harry's throat, one he had not been expecting. "I don't hate you, Draco," he swallowed. "But…I'm not sure I can say the opposite won't be true in just a minute. Just—just try to remember, after this whole thing is over, that I haven't hated you in a long time, and that I'll never hate you again, no matter how much you'll most likely hate me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," said the blond in a fierce voice, squeezing Harry's hand. "I could never, ever hate you, ever! You're not even making any sense, why would I hate you? And how? I don't understand what you're saying. Why are you so upset?"
"Because." Harry shut his eyes, praying he would not start crying again. Lord, had he not already cried enough for the rest of his lifetime? How could he still have any tears left? "Because of what I need to tell you. I need to explain some things to you, and you're not going to want to hear them. I don't want to say them. But I need to, and I need you to listen, okay? I know you won't believe me, but I'm hoping that you'll realize that I care about you and I'm only doing what's best for you."
"Harry, you're scaring me." Draco clutched at his hand even tighter. "You're scaring me, what are you saying? Are you—is this you breaking up with me? For good? Oh god, you're leaving me forever, aren't you? No, Harry, please! Please don't—I'll be better! I'll be a better boyfriend, I'll treat you the way you deserve to be treated! I won't ever give you cause to fear me ever again, I'll never try to hurt myself ever again if you just stay with me!"
"Draco," Harry wept, feeling the damn blasted sodding tears finally fall free. "Please, just listen."
"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry for everything!" Malfoy said frantically, sounding panicked. "I'm sorry, all right? I'm so sorry! But please—please don't give up on me like this! Please, just—just give me a chance to make it all up to you, give me a chance to prove how much I love you! I can make you so happy if only you'll let me, Harry, if only you'll give me the chance! Please, I love you so much! Just give me the chance to deserve your love in return!"
The more words fell from Malfoy's mouth, the more tears fell from Harry's eyes. Every plea only succeeded in breaking Harry's heart even more, adding more and more fractures to it until Harry knew there was no way it would not soon shatter completely, beyond any amount of repair. It would never be whole again.
"Please, Draco," he whispered, eyes still shut. "Please, just listen to me. I'm not technically here to break up with you, and I certainly don't blame you for last night."
"You don't?" Draco asked hopefully, raising Harry's hand to his lips and pressing several kisses to the knuckles. "You really don't blame me? You're not angry with me?"
"No," Harry shook his head, knowing he really should pull his hand away but unable to actually make himself do so. "I don't blame you because it wasn't your fault." He opened his eyes to find Malfoy gazing at him in confusion.
"Well, it certainly wasn't yours," the blond frowned. "I know what I said last night and the way it all sounded, like it was your fault if I ended up harming myself, but it's not true, Harry! It's not your fault, none of it is your fault! You're perfect, Harry, so perfect. You're the most perfect person I've ever met."
"Please, Draco," the brunet pleaded, feeling another crack splinter his heart, "please. Just listen, okay? Because I have something I need to explain to you and I need you to listen without interrupting."
"Okay," Malfoy agreed cautiously, still refusing to let go of Harry's hand. There was fear in his eyes and Harry could not stand to see it. Against both his better judgment and everything his brain was screaming at him, Harry rose from his chair and perched carefully on the edge of Malfoy's bed near his hip, closing his eyes as Draco automatically reached out one hand to comb through Harry's hair with a small, uncertain smile, one that Harry did not return.
Reaching up, Harry grasped Malfoy's hands and gently placed them both on the bed between the two boys, clasping Malfoy's fingers tightly as Harry braced himself for the next part. "Do you remember, Draco, the first night we met up in the East Tower? I asked you why you had chosen to approach me then, why it had taken you so long to come to me if you had really wanted me for so long, and you said that the question was not even something you had paused to consider and that the timing was simply right, do you remember that?"
"Of course," Draco nodded. "That was the night that I knew—as soon as you showed up, I knew."
"Knew what?" Harry asked, feeling curious despite not wanting to get sidetracked, but Malfoy's answer made him wish he had never asked.
"I knew you returned the attraction," the blond answered simply. "I knew that you at least felt something for me, even if you did not know what, and even if it didn't equal what I feel for you. That was the night that I knew there was at least some sort of hope for us."
At Malfoy's confident words, Harry ducked his head as several more tears fell from his eyes.
"Don't be sad, Harry," Draco whispered, raising his hands to Harry's face to cup it tenderly, wiping away the tears sliding down Harry's cheeks with his thumbs. "Don't be sad. There's no need to be sad. There's obviously still hope for us, from the way I woke up to find you sitting at my bedside. You wouldn't be here if you didn't still think there was hope for us. You wouldn't be sitting beside me if you didn't think I was worth sitting beside."
"Draco," Harry choked, closing his eyes. God, Draco was making the situation ten times harder than Harry had been imagining, and he wasn't actually sure if he could do this. "Please, I need you to listen."
"All right," Draco smiled, thumbs still caressing Harry's cheekbones. "I love you, Harry, I'll always listen to you."
The words sent a sharp pain shooting through Harry's entire torso as he felt his heart finally shatter, the muscle exploding deep inside his chest like a glass vase dropped from the top of a staircase, smashing on the pavement below into specks of dust and shards of glass so fine they were practically nonexistent, blown away in the very next second on a cold breeze of Harry's own icy anguish.
"There was a reason," Harry forced himself to speak, even though he wasn't sure how long a person could live with no heart; it had been pulverized within his own chest; it was broken and gone, there was nothing left to pump blood through his body—there was nothing keeping him alive. "There was a reason you thought the timing was suddenly so right, why you never actually stopped to question what you were doing or why you were doing it out of nowhere. There was a reason you first approached me, Draco, and it's not for any of the reasons you think."
"Well, of course there was a reason," Draco rolled his eyes. "The reason is that I wanted to be with you. I love you and I could no longer bear to keep my feelings a secret. I love you, Harry, and I could no longer stand to keep that fact so hidden from you. That's the reason."
"No," Harry shook his head, feeling the empty space where his heart should reside throb. "No, it's not, and you don't. You don't love me, Draco, and I can't—" he paused to sob brokenly, "I can't stand hearing you say that you do, because it's not true. It's never been true, so please…please just listen."
"Of course it's true," Malfoy argued, "how can you say it's not true? Why would you say something like that? It's the truest thing in my life—you are my life! Don't tell me how I feel if you don't actually know, Harry, only I can tell others how I feel. And how I feel is that I love you!"
"Stop, Draco, please!" Harry begged, reaching up to tug at Malfoy's wrists and lower his hands from Harry's face. "It's not true because those were never your feelings in the first place! You just think they are, but they're not!"
"Well, now you're just not making sense," Malfoy frowned, beginning to sound frustrated. "Of course they're my feelings, what does that even mean when you say they're not? I feel them, therefore they're my feelings. I feel love for you, therefore I love you. That's how feelings work."
"They're not your real feelings because Astoria Greengrass put you under a love potion!" Harry snapped, gritting his teeth against the wave of pain that washed through him at the words. "She put you under a love potion, Draco, none of what you've felt for me has been real!"
There was silence for several moments before Malfoy scoffed loudly. "Well, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, surely you don't actually believe that, Harry?"
"It's not a matter of if I believe it or not, Draco, because it's true," the brunet whispered, studying Draco's face intently. "Astoria got caught and confessed to McGonagall last night, she admitted that she brewed the potion herself and put you under it as a test subject because—" his words caught on a sob, "because she needed two people who would never normally fall in love without the help of a potion. And she couldn't get my dose to me because of how much I'm on guard for that sort of thing and how often Hermione checks everything I eat and drink, but…but she was able to dose you."
Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry felt himself growing frustrated that he was refusing to even entertain the thought that it might be true, even though Harry had known how Draco would react. "Even if that was somehow true, she would have had to keep dosing me for it to work, Harry."
"I don't know the details, Draco, I don't know how this particular potion works," Harry confessed, staring down at his hands. "I don't know how she even got it to you in the first place, but…I do know that everything I've said is the truth. She confessed to McGonagall; Hermione was the one who tracked her down. Astoria is the person who's been brewing all the love potions and selling them to the other students. You remember how I told you how often I get other students attempting to slip me love potions? They all came from her; they were all made by her."
Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Harry felt hopeful at the thought that he might finally be getting through to the blond, right until he opened his mouth to speak. "That bitch," he spat, "I'll fucking kill her for this! That little slag is the reason so many other students have been trying to drug you? She's the reason they've all been trying to bewitch you away from me? I'm the one you love, not them! How dare she think she can sell a potion to turn you away from the person you truly love! No potion she could ever make could ever even hope to compare to what we have between us!"
"But we don't have anything between us, Draco," Harry blinked rapidly. "Not anything real. At least, not in regard to how you feel about me."
"Don't you dare say that, Harry," Malfoy said in a low voice, "don't you dare tell me how I feel, I know how I feel! And I know that I love you, and I don't care what anybody else says, I know that I love you! Nobody can convince me that my feelings for you are not real when I'm the only one who knows what I feel! I was willing to give my life for you, Harry, that's how much I love you!"
"No, Draco!" Harry cried, feeling hysterical. "No, you don't love me! You never did! You almost killed yourself last night because of the potion, not because of how much you love me! I mean, that's fucking insane, are you even listening to yourself?!"
"I don't need to," Malfoy said simply, leaning forward. "I don't need to because I already know how I feel, I already know the truth. And it's fine if you don't believe it yet, Harry, it really is. Because I'll make you see, I'll make you believe me. I'll make you see how much I love you."
And before Harry had time to react, Draco had reached out and grabbed him firmly by the neck, tugging him forward into a searing, scorching kiss, one that Harry felt burn throughout the fractured pile of blood-red dust that had once been his heart. At the contact, he whimpered and clutched at Draco out of instinct, feeling his mouth open beneath Draco's and return the kiss for several glorious seconds before he suddenly wrenched himself away with a cry, throwing himself out of the bed and raising one trembling hand to his mouth.
"Don't, Draco," he rasped in a pained voice, "please don't."
"I'll make you see, Harry," the blond repeated, climbing from the bed and launching himself at Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and covering Harry's mouth with his own once more, forcing Harry's lips apart as he shoved his tongue into the brunet's mouth.
Heart hammering, Harry pushed at Malfoy, managing to force him back a couple of steps. Draco met his gaze with a terrifying, almost hollow-eyed sort of determination, reminding Harry of one of those colorful wind-up toys Dudley had played with as a young child, the kind with bright colors and wide eyes that had always scared Harry for some reason when he had looked at them. The colors had always been too bright and the eyes had always seemed too wide and almost terrified, in a way, the painted faces set in a frozen mask of false amusement, unable to do anything but repeat the same mechanical motions the toy was built to do as another person wound and rewound it, controlling everything it did like a mechanical puppet—Draco had become Harry's own mechanical puppet, only Harry had never been the one to first tie the strings to the blond; he had never been in control of the puppet that had somehow become tethered to him.
"I'll make you see, Harry," he repeated, and Harry began to panic, feeling fear spread through him at the low tone Draco spoke those words in, sounding far too threatening than Harry was comfortable with.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a jet of light, and Draco was knocked back onto the hospital bed, thick white straps suddenly encasing the length of his body and binding him to the narrow mattress.
"What the hell?" he asked in surprise, beginning to struggle. "Harry! Harry, what's happening?" he shouted in rising panic, "Harry, make it stop! Let me go! Please, I don't like this! Harry!"
Harry buried his face in his hands and breathed deeply, hearing Madam Pomfrey's footsteps approaching from behind.
"Harry!" Draco sobbed, sounding frenzied and terrified. "Harry, what's happening?! What's going on?! Please, let me go! All I wanted was to show you! All I wanted was to show you how much I love you, why are you doing this?!"
"Draco, please," Harry whispered, raising his head to peer down at Malfoy with heartbreak pouring from his sad green eyes. "Please, Draco, this is for your own good."
"Nothing is for my own good if it stops me from being with you!" Malfoy cried, voice becoming hysterical. "How can you even say that? How can you dare stand there and tell me this is for my own good when my own good relies entirely on my being with you?! How could you have done this to me when you got so angry at me for holding you against that wall the other night?! How could you turn around and restrain me in the exact same way that you told me yourself you couldn't handle?! That's the reason you left me, Harry, that's why you stopped trusting me! How could you turn around and do the exact same thing to me when I was only trying to show you how much I love you?!"
Both the reminder and the accusation made Harry shudder violently, the shudder doubling as he imagined being in Draco's place, bound so impossibly tight and completely helpless like that, by someone he thought he could trust.
"Mr Malfoy," Pomfrey said loudly, coming up behind Harry and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please calm yourself. It was I who restrained you, not Mr Potter."
Draco turned to her in surprise, as though only just realizing there was another person in the room. "Then let me go!" he said angrily, beginning to struggle even harder. "You had no right to do that!"
"On the contrary," she said, sounding sympathetic, "I have every right to restrain a patient who is a danger to either themselves or to others. You had become a danger to Mr Potter, and I restrained you out of fear for his own safety."
"What?!" Draco shrieked, thrashing in his bonds. "You think I would hurt Harry?! You really think I would ever hurt him?! I love him, I would never hurt him!"
"You were attacking him, Mr Malfoy," she said in a calm voice, but Harry could see pity shining out at Malfoy from her eyes. "You were threatening him. But what's worse is that you don't even realize what it is you were doing."
"I wasn't attacking him, he was never in any danger!" Malfoy snarled, face reddening as he struggled and flailed. "He would never be in danger from me! Tell her, Harry! Tell her that I would never hurt you! Tell her how much I love you! For god's sake, Harry," he sobbed suddenly, startling Harry, "tell her! Please, I don't understand! Why aren't you helping me?"
"Draco," Harry whispered, closing his eyes for a moment against the wave of pain that swept through him. "Please, this—this really is for your own good. Please…just listen to us. We're trying to help you."
"How the fuck is this helping me?!" the blond cried, angry tears of betrayal streaming down his cheeks. "How is any of this helping me?! If you really wanted to help me, you'd let me go, you'd get me out of this! Why are you always helping everyone but me? Why am I the only one you always refuse to save?"
"I am helping you, Draco," Harry spoke with his eyes closed, unable to look at Malfoy. "We have an antidote for you to drink. Please, just drink it."
"No!" Malfoy shouted, and Harry's eyes snapped open. "No, because I don't need it! None of what you've said is true! I'm not under any fucking love potions! How many times do I have to tell you, I'm fucking fine!"
"With all due respect, Mr Malfoy," Pomfrey interrupted, sounding sad, "you are very clearly not fine. This antidote is not a request; it is neither an option nor a suggestion. I'm afraid to say that whether you take it willingly or whether it's administered by force is the only real decision you have here."
"Harry," Draco whimpered, sounding terrified. "Harry, why are you just standing there? Why are you doing nothing, why aren't you helping me? I thought you cared about me, you said you cared about me! I thought you loved me back!"
"I do care about you," Harry said miserably, knowing he would forever be haunted by the memory of this moment. "I care about you so much, Draco, you have no idea. The time we spent together…the way you made me feel…but—" he took a deep breath, bracing himself, "but it ends now. Madam Pomfrey is right, this antidote is not optional. If I have to force your mouth open and pour it straight down your throat, I will."
"You're saying you would hurt me?" Malfoy asked in a tiny voice, eyes wide and face carved in fear. "You're saying you don't want to be with me anymore?"
"I'm doing this to help you, goddamnit!" Harry snapped, feeling frustration and hurt pounding through him in hot spikes. "This is for you, Draco! And I never said I didn't want to be with you anymore, but I'm telling you right now that after you take this antidote, you won't want to be with me!"
"That's not true! You know that's not true!"
"Please, Madam Pomfrey," Harry whispered, turning away from the panicked blond. "Please, give him the antidote. And something to calm him down."
She nodded sympathetically, saying "I'm sorry," to Malfoy before casting some sort of paralysis spell over him and opening his mouth, pouring in both vials on the bedside table one at a time and using another spell to help him swallow without choking.
Once his breathing had slowed to normal and the red had faded from his face, she removed both the spell and the bindings holding him captive, peering down at him in concern. "How do you feel now, Mr Malfoy?"
Draco's eyes shot up to land on Harry's face, and Harry felt himself want to cry at the way the other boy's eyes widened in fear and absolute terror. He scrambled backward on the bed, farther away from Harry, who did not want to wait to hear Draco scream at him to leave him alone forever.
"Goodbye, Draco," Harry whispered, feeling the dusty remains of his heart completely blow away, leaving him empty and hollow, and needing desperately to get out of that godawful room. "Goodbye."
And without waiting for a response, he turned and ran.
TBC
A/N: AHHH so much drama! Don't worry though, lovers, the story is not over yet :)
