Chapter 4 - Hospital Wing
For the next few days, Harry refused to talk frankly about what had happened, much to Hermione and Ron's dismay. No matter how many times they tried to breach the subject, Harry stubbornly answered with unhelpful remarks or sullen silences. He was partially aware he was taking his rotten mood out on his friends, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.
Professor McGonagall had given him detention every night that week which wasn't what had Harry so sour. A few detentions seemed a small price for nearly killing another student.
No, it wasn't the punishment that had him feeling so dismal, but rather the guilt and damn sense of worry.
It didn't help his mental state that the blonde's condition was being kept private. Even Malfoy's fellow Slytherins seemed to be in the dark. Harry had overheard Pansy Parkinson during Charms hissing manically to Daphne Greengrass about how Pomfrey wouldn't allow any visitors. She'd looked at wits end with worry.
If Malfoy's best friends hadn't been clued in, then Harry doubted anyone else could claim to know details, but still they did.
The loud crashing from his and Malfoy's fight had indeed drawn a flock of curious students to the scene, and though Snape and McGonagall had moved Malfoy before any onlookers arrived, the remaining mess of broken glass, metal, and blood was enough to spark imagination. The gossip over the matter was thicker than molasses.
Harry felt nauseous as each new rumor reached him. Some said Malfoy was in an irreversible coma, while others thought he'd been transferred to St. Mungo's to be sorted out by the Artifacts Accidents Department. A few gruesome seventh-year Ravenclaws liked to swear Malfoy had died and the school was trying to hush the whole thing up. The "Dead Malfoy" rumors were among Harry's least favorite, right next to the mutterings that Harry had actually pushed Malfoy beneath the falling chandelier, or sent it down upon him on purpose.
It had been three days since the accident and the mystery of Malfoy's condition only seemed to prod the rumors to become more preposterous and cinematic. It seemed everyone was talking about it. Lavender and Parvati were simply having a field day.
Harry sulked between classes, Ron and Hermione following anxiously behind him.
"Aw cheer up, mate. The rumors aren't all bad," Ron started, nudging his elbow as he matched stride. "I overheard Parvati telling Angelina that Malfoy was throwing killing curses at you, and you had no other choice but bring the ceiling down on top of him in self-defense,"
Harry gave Ron a disgusted look.
"What? I know that's not what really happened. I'm just saying you're not the bad guy in all the stuff that's going around!"
Hermione also gave Ron a disapproving frown, "Are you trying to make him feel worse?"
Harry didn't want to hear it from either of them. He picked up his pace as a surge of irritation coursed through him. "I've told you both a hundred times, I don't want to talk about it! Nothing we say is going to change what happened and I'm hearing about it plenty from everyone else. Let's just talk about something different for a change, like Transfiguration homework, or Quidditch, or Flitwick's new haircut, for all I care-"
Harry's rant was interrupted as a fifth-year Slytherin rammed into his shoulder in passing, though it had clearly been on purpose. It was the dark-colored boy named Harper.
He spun around to face Harry, shrinking away in mock fear. "Oh, I'm so very sorry, Potter, please don't drop a chandelier on me!" His overly dramatic acting was met by a chorus of laughs and jeers from the group of Slytherins accompanying him.
"Move out of the way, Nott, you overgrown troll," Ron said to the burly seventh year who was sniggering beside Harper, blocking their way.
"Why don't you make me, Weasley?" He said, but before Ron could even produce his wand, Nott was forcibly moved aside by someone else.
To Harry's surprise, it was Pansy Parkinson clearing the path, pushing through the group from behind. Harper had to pinwheel his arms to keep from toppling over, he was shoved so forcefully. Pansy looked like a bristling tabby as she rounded on the boys. "Oh come off your high horses and don't look so smug. You're only acting so high and mighty because Draco's not here. Well you're not very funny, and I bet it took you all morning to come up with that jibe, didn't it, Harper?"
Harper looked more than a little affronted, chest puffing up like an angry peacock. "But Pansy, he-"
"Oh shut up," Pansy said sharply. She was in quite a disgruntled state, Harry noticed. Her hair was frizzier than normal and her Slytherin sweater had come mostly untucked from her uniform skirt.
"Potter," She suddenly snapped. "I've got a message from Professor Snape. He wants you to meet him in the hospital wing. Now," She added tersely.
"I-is this about Malfoy? Is he..alright?" Harry asked, feeling stupider by the minute. The Slytherins standing around Pansy made several snide remarks, sneering and hissing at him like the nest of snakes they were.
"You don't get to ask that question, Potter. They won't even let me see him," She said shrilly, stomping her foot. She turned her pointy nose up at them and spun around to shove back through the Slytherins, apparently taking her anger out on her fellow housemates.
Harper and Nott looked too shocked at the unfair treatment to say much else so Harry, Hermione, and Ron hurried past them before they could gather their wits back together.
Forgetting he had just been cross with them, Harry exchanged anxious looks with his friends.
"What do you think Snape wants with me? I've already got detention with McGonagall for the rest of the week,"
"I don't know Harry. It's odd he's having you go to the hospital wing," She hugged the book she carried closer to her chest and clutched the bottom of her chin between her thumb and first finger.
"Do you think something bad happened," Ron said, gulping, "To Malfoy I mean? Do you think he...died?"
Harry felt the color drain out of his face as he considered the possibility.
Hermione gave Ron an exasperated albeit anxious look. "That can't be it. If Malfoy had died they wouldn't be sending for Harry to meet them in the Hospital Wing. Malfoy's family would have been sent for and they wouldn't want Harry present. That's just ridiculous. Plus they'd have a hard time keeping that from leaking, especially with Pansy and Malfoy's other friends trying to visit him every other minute,"
"Yeah, I suppose," Harry said, feeling queasy.
"I did wonder if Malfoy was even still in the hospital wing, though. Those rumors about St. Mungo's seemed believable,"
"Right, it looked bad enough to be shipped off for, didn't it?" Ron said, "I thought for sure I was going to see thestrals after-"
Hermione jabbed Ron in the side to effectively silence him and looked guiltily to Harry. "We know you feel responsible for what happened Harry, but it really wasn't your fault. I wish you'd stop sulking about it. Malfoy was the one who started the fight in the first place, remember?"
"I wasn't saying anything about it being Harry's fault! Why'd you elbow me," Ron said, exaggeratedly rubbing his side. Hermione gave him a stern McGonagall-like glare. Ordinarily, Harry would have found the banter amusing, but much like the past several days, he found himself more bitter than anything.
"I obviously didn't do it on purpose, but it's just like when we fought before. It doesn't change that it was my spell that caused the accident," Harry said.
"You've just got bad luck, mate," Ron said. "Or maybe it's Malfoy who's got the bad luck. Karma, right?"
Harry glanced between Hermione and Ron, biting his lip. "Well, actually, there was something I haven't told you both about what happened when I was fighting Malfoy,"
Hermione's brows rose in interest and Ron's eye's widened. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Don't tell me you really did mean to do it,"
Harry hit Ron's arm rather forcefully, "Come off it! You were bloody there!"
"Right, right," Run muttered, going red.
Harry looked around to check their surroundings before pulling both Ron and Hermione behind a stone arch in the hall. He thought about casting muffliato but knew Hermione would throw a fit if he used one of the Prince's spells in front of her. Instead, he huddled them closer and spoke quietly. "Something odd happened right before the chandelier fell. When I cast that final spell, I lost control of my wand. It was like my arm had a mind of its own and was aiming at that suit of armor on purpose. It felt like I'd been confounded. That's the only way to describe it,"
Hermione frowned. "But Harry, there was no one else in that hall but us and Malfoy. If you were confounded, who would have cast the spell?"
"I think it was Malfoy," Harry said immediately.
Hermione looked startled at his certainty, exchanging a bewildered look with Ron, "But Harry, why would he-"
"He was trying to kill me I think. Make it look like an accident,"
"Oh, but Harry that doesn't make any sense. He...he did save you in the end. Ron and I clammed up when we saw what was about to happen but he didn't. It looked rather, well... heroic," Hermione whispered the last word, as if speaking highly of Malfoy was akin to muttering a dirty sentence and ought not be overheard.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair roughly, overcome by frustration that Hermione had arrived at the same roadblock he had as well. He'd been brooding over the whole thing himself for days and couldn't make heads or tails of it.
"I dunno, maybe Malfoy did mean to kill Harry, but then chickened out last minute?" Ron said lamely.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "We've known Malfoy for 6 years. When is the last time he's done something selfless for another human being? I find it hard to believe that Malfoy would ever choose to put his own life in danger, especially for Harry. No offense. I think we're missing something here,"
Harry shook his head, "Let's talk about this more when I get back. Maybe Snape will give me some clues to think about,"
Now that the taboo had lifted from the topic, Harry could see that Hermione and Ron were eager to keep the discussion going.
"Right, we'll talk more when you get back. Good luck," Hermione said, giving him a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, G'luck," Ron said, patting his shoulder roughly.
Harry parted ways with the pair and set off in the opposite direction towards the hospital wing. His stomach began to squirm uncomfortably with nerves. He was certain that he was going to have to face Malfoy. Why else would Snape have him go to the Hospital Wing?
What if Malfoy looked just as bad as he had the night Harry had last seen him? Chest crushed in and blood pouring from his mouth. What if the rumors were true and he really was in a coma? Or what if Ron was right and Malfoy really had died? Could Harry live with that guilt?
Body humming with dread, Harry pushed forward through the double doors of the hospital wing.
The midday sun was slanting in through the numerous windows to give the stark white room a blinding glow. All the beds were empty and crisply made. Harry blinked at the barren ward for a moment, confused, until he heard hushed voices coming from the far end of the room. There was a space divider set up around the furthest bed, shielding it from view.
As Harry traversed the space, he could begin to make out the shadow of two figures behind the white sheet. There was a tall, thin shadow standing beside a smaller form sitting forward on the hospital bed. Harry's heart sped up as he drew closer. The air went out of him in a quiet whoosh, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. So Malfoy wasn't dead. He could hear the blonde's voice carrying towards him.
"- I didn't have anything to do with it, alright!" Malfoy hissed. "That Bell girl must have an enemy no one knows about!"
"I can only pray you're telling the truth, Draco, but you've let yourself become distracted. Why were you fighting Potter? You should be keeping your head down."
"I just lost my temper! It wasn't my fault,"
Snape gave a pause and a frustrated sigh. "I quite understand your father's imprisonment has affected you, but you can't allow yourself to lose focus, Draco. You know what's at stake,"
"I haven't lost focus!" Malfoy said scornfully. "My progress is moving forward. It's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would,"
"What are you planning, Draco?" Snape asked, his shadow moving closer to the figure in the bed. Harry held his breath and stood stock still, waiting for Malfoy to answer.
"It's none of your business," Malfoy said, to Harry's dismay.
"If you tell me what you're planning, I can assist you,"
"No!" Malfoy snapped. "I don't need your help. You just want all the glory for yourself! H-he gave this task to me,"
"You're speaking like a child! I swore to your mother I'd protect you, but you're making my job exceedingly difficult. Nearly killed on two separate occasions in one month! I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco-"
At that moment, Harry made the greedy mistake of moving forward to get within better earshot. His foot scuffed clumsily against the stone floor and Snape fell abruptly silent. The shadowy outline behind the curtain suddenly appeared in its full, towering glory. Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, lip curling with fury.
"Were you eavesdropping, Potter?"
Harry looked quickly away as Snape tried to meet his eye. He never did figure out how to use Occlumency, "No sir! I just got here,"
Snape eyed him suspiciously but slowly turned and strode back behind the drape, motioning for him to follow. Harry scurried after, sweating a bit.
Malfoy was indeed present, and to Harry's relief, he looked more or less intact. One of his arms was hung in a sling and Madame Pomfrey was still in the process of healing the nicks and scrapes across his face, but his chest was no longer warped like it had been the other night. The Slytherin was glaring daggers at Harry as he entered.
"And tell me again, Professor, why you've invited Potter to my sickbed," Draco gave Harry a disdainful nod as if he were a table or a lampshade, not a proper human being.
"I've brought Mr. Potter here to find out exactly what happened to trigger your altercation the other evening," Snape said. "And I have been so kind as to delay this interview until you were well enough to give your testimony. Must I remind you that Madam Pomfrey was only able to revive you into consciousness this morning?"
Malfoy scowled, "No, sir,"
"Very well. Let's hear what happened then. Tell me exactly how your petty duel resulted in the destruction of a century-old chandelier, damage to an original Hogwarts mural, and your near death?" Snape said menacingly.
Harry gulped. The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering madly. He had already been serving detention with Professor McGonagall for the unsupervised dueling, but he hadn't told anyone the details of the fight or that it had been his spell to bring down the chandelier, confounded or not.
Snape was glaring between them expectantly. "Don't either of you have anything to say? What about you, Mr. Potter,"
"Err-, well, um... " Harry bumbled.
"It wasn't so complicated, Professor," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes ostentatiously, "I was heading down to the Great Hall for supper when I ran into Potter and his little sidekicks. They provoked me. Potter and I fought, and I do think I was wining, but a stray spell struck the chandelier. It was bad luck,"
Snape frowned at the Slytherin, lip curling with displeasure. "Who's spell was it?"
Harry thought his heart might stop. Here's where the truth came out. Would he be given detention every night for the rest of the year? What if he was expelled? Harry wiped clammy palms on his robes and opened his mouth to speak.
"It was my spell, Professor," Malfoy drawled.
Harry's mouth snapped shut in surprise.
Snape's face had gone red and he looked in danger of blowing an aneurysm. For once, his fury was not directed at Harry. The Defense teacher towered over Malfoy, "Detention,"
Malfoy's face paled. Clearly, he hadn't expected that reaction from Snape. "What!? But you can't give me detention! "I -I almost died!" Malfoy spluttered.
"I am your head of house, and you will take your punishment as is earned. You will serve detention with me every Saturday for the rest of the term,"
"But sir, isn't that when I'm scheduled for detention?" Harry piped in, hopes suddenly rising. Maybe Snape would cancel his detentions in light of Malfoy.
"You will both serve detention with me every Saturday until the term ends. Is that clear?"
"But Professor, how can you... you know-" Malfoy looked suddenly panicked, "You know I've got to-" But Malfoy's sentence was clipped short as he burst into a violent fit of coughing. Snape's face pinched into a worried frown as he rounded the bed and placed a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.
As if she'd been waiting for something like this to happen, Madame Pomfrey came bustling in behind Harry, nearly knocking him over in her haste.
"Severus, you said you wouldn't rile him up!"
Malfoy was gasping and turning blue by the time Madam Pomfrey shoed Snape out of the way. She braced her arm behind Malfoy's back and guided a goblet of potion to his lips, tutting all the while.
Malfoy shuddered after a few swallows and the coughing subsided, but it looked like the sudden fit had taken a great deal out of him. He slumped back into the pillows bonelessly, taking deep careful breaths as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over him briskly.
When she was finished, the healer turned dangerously to Snape, looking much like a mother dragon protecting her egg. "You're lucky there's nothing too badly out of place. You know I've only just finished growing the boy a new set of lungs this morning! It's not like bones, Severus, lungs are a delicate business -all those veins and vessels, and even one set back..." Madame Pomfrey looked beside herself. "If it hadn't been for your request, I would have sent him straight to Saint Mungo's, oh yes. Oh yes indeed!"
If it had been any other situation, Harry might have found the look on Snape's face quite comical. He looked sour and properly chastised by the matronly healer.
"I think that's quite enough excitement for Mr. Malfoy today. The boy needs rest. You can finish this conversation tomorrow. Out. Out!" She said, all but chasing Snape towards the exit. Her shrill voice slowly faded as she led Snape from the infirmary, scolding him the entire way ("You should know better!") and suddenly, Harry found himself alone with Malfoy.
He stood planted at the foot of Malfoy's bed, feeling horribly out of place. Malfoy still had his eyes closed and head pressed back into the pillows, looking considerably unwell. Harry could see the potion Madam Pomfrey had given to Malfoy still sitting half-finished on the nightstand. It was a pretty color. A robins egg blue with white flecks peppered in like sprinkles.
"What are you still doing here, Potter?" Malfoy rasped, causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. Malfoy was peering at him from beneath heavy lids.
"Er- I was just...uh...H-how are you feeling?" He finished lamely, cringing at his own awkwardness.
"How am I feeling?" Malfoy perked up enough to gawk at Harry as if he'd said something uncommonly stupid, "Oh just peachy, Potter. I was nearly crushed to death by a two-ton piece of metal, broke more than half the bones in my body, and just finished regrowing a new set of internal organs this morning. How do you think I'm feeling? Merlin, are you really that daft?"
It was as if a cauldron had exploded in Harry's face. He blinked at Malfoy dubiously, "Sorry for asking. I forgot that you're an insufferable git for a moment. My mistake,"
Malfoy glared at him, "I asked what you were still doing here,"
Harry cleared his throat, working up the nerve to have what he was sure would be an extremely unpleasant conversation.
"Why did you lie to Snape?" Harry asked, looking over his shoulder to make sure the greasy ex-potions master had not crept back up behind them. The infirmary was still quite empty
"I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy said indifferently.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You told Snape it was your spell that knocked down that chandelier. It wasn't though. Why didn't you tell him what really happened? I thought it was your life's ambition to get me in trouble,"
With what looked like a fair bit of effort, Malfoy pushed himself back into a sitting position, grimacing and tugging at the arm sling as it dug into his neck. He made a show of straightening the sheets over his lap before answering.
"My image, Potter," He said primly. "Can't have people knowing you nearly killed me twice. I'll start losing my reputation. People will think I've gotten weak,"
Harry opened his mouth to respond but then closed it again with a frown.
"Don't think too hard, Potter, you'll hurt yourself,"
"But why did you save me?"
The smirk fell off of Malfoy's face at that. He didn't have such a quick response but did manage a fairly classic scowl, blonde eyebrows knitting themselves together. "It's none of your business, Potter,"
Harry stepped closer to the bed, suddenly determined to get an answer. "You hate me, Malfoy, and you're a selfish cowardly git. You could have easily stood by and let that chandelier crush me to death. Why risk your own life?"
Malfoy's face was sullen as he glowered up at Harry. "A selfish cowardly git, am I?"
"Yeah, you are,"
The Slytherin's eyes flashed dangerously. "You're so narrow-minded, Potter. You think you've got everyone figured out and that you're the only noble person in this whole damn school. I suppose it never occurred to you that I was actually doing something decent by shoving you out of the way?"
It hadn't. Harry shook his head, practically laughing at the absurdity of it. "What? Are you trying to tell me you risked your life for mine because you were being nice? You of all people! You're really expecting me to believe that?"
"Yes, me of all people," Malfoy said darkly, "Can't have The Chosen One squished flat now can we? What would the Wizarding World do without their hero?"
Harry stood there, baffled. Malfoy was really sticking to this ridiculous story. He shook his head adamantly. "I don't believe you. You're hiding something,"
"You believe whatever the hell you want, Potter, I don't give a damn. Why the fuck did you ask if you didn't want to hear the answer?"
"I know you. You're not the type of person to-"
"You don't know me, Potter," Malfoy said, cutting Harry off mid-sentence. "Don't come barging in here pretending you do,"
Harry gaped at the boy in front of him. "After 6 years of watching you be a stuck up, arrogant, bully, I think I've figured out the essentials, thanks very much,"
"And yet, I've managed to surprise you with this," Malfoy gestured down at his bandaged body with his uninjured arm. "If you know me so well, why didn't you see this coming, eh Potter? You're the one who made an enemy of me, don't forget. You pegged me as bad from the start, but ever consider that you're just a presumptuous ass? You think I'd never risk my life for someone else, or do something for the good of another but you're dead wrong. You don't fucking know me."
Malfoy's grey eyes were pale and dancing with electricity. Harry was suddenly glad Malfoy was still too injured to rise from the hospital cot. He looked absolutely livid.
There was a rather long awkward silence as Malfoy seemed to settle down, hands unclenching from the white-knuckled fists they'd become. He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes, "Just use your puny brain, Potter. If you were to die while dueling with me what do you think would happen to my family? My father's just been shipped off to Azkaban for consorting with the wrong wizards. Even if it was your spell that did it, accident or not, The Malfoy name would never be the same again. I didn't have a choice,"
"And there's the truth. I knew there was something in it for you,"
Malfoy gave him an irritated look, "I'm sorry I've got a brain and don't go blindly rushing after people who need saving like you with your bloody hero complex. Just because I had a reason doesn't mean it wasn't a decent one. I don't want myself or my family thrown to the dogs, for Merlin's sake,"
"Yeah, I get why you did it now. Slytherin's are always trying to save their own skin. I should have guessed,"
Malfoy stared at him as if he had three heads. "Are you really trying to villainize me right now? Are you really accusing me of doing wrong just because I didn't save you for the right reasons? You're fucking joking with me, right? Yes, the repercussions for me were factored in, but for your information, I wasn't just saving my own skin. I'm not evil, you know. I don't want you dead,"
"Don't you? Considering the way your father acts, I'd have thought you were just picking up where he left off," Harry said, bristling despite the truth to Malfoy's words. He was, in a way, searching for something to cast a shadow across Malfoy's good deed. He didn't like being indebted to the Slytherin. It felt slimy.
"Don't bring my father into this. As much as you delude yourself into believing, we are not the same person," Malfoy said, running a hand through his hair once more in what looked to be a nervous habit. "So no, Potter. I think you're a right stupid blockhead and I really don't like you at all, but I don't want you dead. Kind of a nasty thing to want of another classmate isn't it? What do you think I am, a sociopath?"
Harry didn't say anything. If Malfoy had asked him the same question earlier he would have said yes, but now? He wasn't so sure. The way Malfoy spoke was unnerving. Either Malfoy was an incredible actor or he was actually telling the truth.
"What, cat got your tongue? Don't tell me it's because that's what you secretly want of me? Are you hacked off that I didn't kick the bucket properly?"
Harry could feel his cheeks heat as he stepped even closer to the bed, a flare of rage rising up in him. The blonde had to tilt his chin upward to look Harry fully in the face, expression defiant.
"Shut up, Malfoy! You know I didn't do either of those things on purpose- I would never! No matter how much you deserved it!" He spluttered furiously. "I'm not the bad guy in this room. You are! You're the one who's a Death Eater!"
Malfoy looked amused at Harry's outburst, smirking up at him assuredly. This only served to stoke Harry's temper further. He wanted to hit Malfoy, but he restrained himself. It wouldn't do well to punch a sick person in the face.
"Nice allegation there, Potter. Why don't you prove it," Malfoy said calmly.
"Alright, I will. Show me your arm,"
Malfoy's mask didn't budge. "No," He said simply.
Harry's eyebrows shot upward and he pointed an accusatory finger at Malfoy. "If you won't show me, that's proof enough! It means you're hiding something,"
"Do I again need to draw attention to your stupidity?" Malfoy motioned to the arm in a sling. It was his left and there was a hard cast molded to it. If Harry wanted to inspect the skin beneath, he'd have to break the whole wrap apart. He earnestly considered it too. Malfoy must have noticed the gleam in his eyes because he drew back slightly. "Don't get any ideas. I'm not a Death Eater, okay? Honestly, don't get your self-righteous knickers in a knot. You're always so easy to rile up, you know that?"
"Sod off," Harry growled.
Malfoy shook his head and laughed mirthlessly. "I'd love to, but if you hadn't noticed I'm rather bed-bound at the moment. Pomfrey thought my vital organs took precedence over my limbs, so my legs are still broken. Same story for the arm,"
Harry deflated as a twinge of guilt penetrated his anger. He took a steadying breath. "I'll ask you about your arm later, then,"
"Looking forward to it," Malfoy all but hissed.
Harry stood there glaring at Malfoy, who returned the hateful stare just as readily.
"Fine. I guess it doesn't matter why you pushed me out of the way," Harry said stiffly, shuffling a few paces back. He had gotten rather close to Malfoy in the heat of the moment. "Thanks, I guess,"
Malfoy's steel grey eye's flashed with surprise before he quickly lowered his gaze to his lap, cheeks filling with a tinge of color. "You shouldn't thank me, Potter. Once this war breaks out and he comes after you, you'll wish you were dead,"
Harry shook his head. "I won't. Voldemort killed my parents and if I have any respect for them I won't go belly up. He tears peoples' lives apart. If I have a chance to face Voldemort, I'll end him for what he's done."
Malfoy hid his flinch decently and gave Harry a wary look, a somber air coming over him.
"Bloody Gryffindor," Malfoy finally muttered, voice sounding much more haggard than it had a moment ago. His stare settled out the window to Hogwarts grounds, a far off look in his eyes.
As Harry studied the other boy's profile, his own words echoed in his head. Voldemort really did tear peoples' lives apart. Though they'd stepped up for the slaughter, The Malfoy's were one of those families whose lives had been altered forever. Harry found himself wondering what it must feel like to have Voldemort threaten to kill your mum and dad if you didn't do what he asked. It was a terrible position to be in. Harry wasn't sure what he would do if he was faced with that scenario.
Harry was broken from his reverie as Malfoy suddenly cringed forward and clapped a hand over his mouth, consumed by another bout of coughing. Harry stood there uncomfortably, hoping the fit would end quickly but it seemed just as bad as the last. Malfoy was clearly struggling to breath.
Feeling alarmed, Harry stepped back to crane around the divider. "Madam Pomfrey!" He said loudly, but she still hadn't returned to the ward. Should he run and find her? But what if that took too long? He bit his lip, eyes falling on the potion sitting by Malfoy's bed. Without thinking, Harry stepped forward and grasped the cup.
"Malfoy! Hey!" He grabbed the blonde's surprisingly bony shoulder. Malfoy was making a horrible gasping sound and his lips were practically purple. "Come on, take it!" Harry had to help Malfoy hold the cup steady as he tipped it back, taking a few desperate swallows.
Harry stood by, heart pounding in his chest, as he watched the blonde slowly compose himself with deep hungry inhales, his color gradually returning to normal.
"You alright?"
"-yea -fine," Malfoy said thinly once he had breath to spare. He was cradling his abdomen with his unbandaged arm and looked like a kicked dog. "Haven't quite gotten used to the new lungs yet, I suppose. I think the liver and spleen are still settling in too,"
Harry couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. It was rather morbid humor. He awkwardly set the goblet back on the side table.
"Er- should I go find Pomfrey?"
Malfoy shook his head, "She'll be back to fuss at me soon enough,"
Harry sighed, taking in the Slytherin's weathered state. "Look, I'm sorry you got hurt because of me. I never wanted this. Either time," Harry said.
The blonde blinked at him, "Hm. Looks like neither of us hates the other as much as we once thought,"
Harry snorted. "I guess you're right. It's good to know you think enough of me not to want me dead,"
"Indeed," Malfoy said, fixing him with a stare. It wasn't hateful, or angry, for once. It was more inquisitive than anything. Malfoy straightened himself up, and like a switch, began exuding his classic arrogant air. "I accept your apology, Potter, but if you send me to the hospital wing one more time, I'll have to get a restraining order,"
Harry felt the pull of a smile at the corners of his lips. "Please do. If I don't have to see you for the rest of the year, I won't complain,"
Maybe it was the shock of nearly killing Malfoy on two separate occasions, but he suddenly realized he felt no hatred for the blonde, and this back and forth wasn't a fight. It was light banter.
How strange.
"You'd love that wouldn't you, Potter. Only problem is we'll be seeing one another every Saturday for the rest of the year now, won't we,"
Harry groaned, almost having forgotten about the detentions he still had to serve. "Oh, don't remind me,"
"I don't care about your torment, Potter. But me? I can't believe Professor Snape gave me detention. The nerve of him,"
Harry sniggered. "You must have really irritated Snape considering you're in his house. I didn't think he ever gave detention to Slytherins,"
Malfoy let out a rasp of laughter, "Not true. I know you hate him, but Snape's not completely biased. He makes Crabbe and Goyle practically live in detention for their terrible marks. But for me, being in Slytherin does tend to help most of the time. Unfortunately, it looks like I've pissed him off enough for that not to matter," Malfoy leaned back into the pillows and coughed a few times into the back of his hand, looking pained.
Harry frowned and picked up the goblet of potion again, holding it out for Malfoy. Admittedly, the previous fit had been rather frightening and Harry wasn't keen on watching another. Malfoy took the cup from him, looking slightly bemused.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go on and finish it before you hack up one of your new lungs," Harry said.
The Slytherin raised his eyebrows in surprise but did eventually tip the cup back, draining the last few mouthfuls of potion. "Thanks, Potter,"
Harry took the empty goblet and set it aside, unable to keep himself from smirking.
"What are you laughing at?" Malfoy snapped.
"Nothing. I just never thought you and I could have a civil interaction,"
Malfoy hesitated as if considering his next move, but he eventually smirked as well. "Guess this is rather civil, isn't it? Let's not make it a habit,"
"Agreed," Harry said, finding himself grinning. Something had changed between them that Harry couldn't quite explain.
But still...
"Malfoy, what are you up to in the Room of Requirement?" He'd never thought to ask directly before this, but it seemed like such an obvious thing to do. Malfoy's face went pale at the question. He opened his mouth and for a moment, Harry thought he was going to tell him something, but then his eyes darkened as if a wall had been built up to block him out.
"As if I'd ever tell you, Potter," Malfoy said quietly. There was no anger behind his words, just weariness. Harry frowned, feeling disappointed but unsurprised at the answer.
Madam Pomfrey's heels could be suddenly heard clicking back into the infirmary. She appeared around the cloth divider moments later, carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming broth. She looked surprised to see Harry standing there. "What are you still doing here, Mr. Potter?"
"Just leaving," Harry gave Malfoy a final look. The other boy was observing him almost curiously.
"Bye then," Harry said, making a hasty exit.
Apologies for Grammar and spelling issues I have missed! I did include a scene from the book (of Snape and Malfoy talking about the Unbreakable Vow) so will not take credit for it! Just to clear up confusion this story is set after Katie Bell was cursed but before Ron was poisoned (sometime before Christmas).
As always, Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites! Anonymous, thank you for the detailed review and the tip off on some of the more obvious errors in the last chapter! I fixed them :)
~Until next time