Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings in this story. All rights belong to JK Rowling and the Harry Potter franchise.
"Sectumsempra!"
The resounding thud could mean only one thing -Harry's spell had met its mark. Tentatively, he crept around the corner of the destroyed cubicles, unsure of what he would find.
Draco lying on the ground in a pool of water mixed with his own blood was certainly not what he was expecting.
Harry's mouth went dry at the sight of the boy in front of him, blood seeping through his white shirt and gasping like a fish suddenly deprived of water. He watched numbly, unable to believe that this was what his spell had done. That he was
responsible for this suffering. Just as Harry was beginning to panic - the note-taker in his potions book hasn't mentioned how to undo this particular spell - Professor Snape appeared over Draco's unmoving body, muttering spells and counter-
watched in amazement as the blood slowly began to seep back into his body, his breaths becoming less ragged and his life returning to him. Although he still lay there motionless, he was alive. Thank God, Harry thought, before darting outof
the bathroom to clear his head.
Harry's feet seemed to move of their own accord, walking steadily in a direction of their choosing. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Hagrid's hut, banging loudly on the door and demanding to be let in. The door opened a crack and he stumbledinside,
not realizing how close he was to passing out. Alarmed at his shaken appearance, Hagrid pulled out a chair and forcefully sat Harry down.
"Wot th' devil are y'doin' out here? And at this time o' night? Ye' could get in big trouble fer this, 'arry, 'specially if one Professor Snape finds out," Hagrid said as he fussed about, trying to find some tea or ale to calm Harry's nerves.
"Snape won't find out,"Harry replied numbly, taking the cup Hagrid handed him but not drinking it. "Hagrid, I..." he began, but looked pained as he tried to say more. "I... I've done something wrong," he finally settled on, looking like there
was more to say but couldn't find the words to do so.
"Somethin' wrong? Wot do y'mean?" Hagrid replied, now sitting across from Harry and nervously wringing his great hands.
Harry proceeded to tell him all that had happened, from following Draco out from dinner to finding him crying in the bathroom and the ensuing duel which resulted in him bleeding out on the floor. The images of the blondeboy just lying there
motionless seemed seared on the inside of his eyelids, present even when he closed them and tried to block them out.
"Hagrid, I didn't mean to hurt him like that, I was just... it was an accident," Harry finished quietly, as if reliving the memory was more painful than actually experiencing it.
Forcing some of the hot liquid down his throat, Harry tried to convince himself that he was alright, that it was just a freak accident, and that by tomorrow, everyone would have forgotten about it.
He could not have been more wrong.
The next day at breakfast, the Great Hall was filled with the whispers of thosemore anxious to spread rumors than speak truth; those same whispers would seem to fade with each step Harry took, as if the conversations were not meant for hisears.
Dropping heavily into his seat by Ron and Hermione, Harry lay into his eggs and sausage with an alarming vehemence.
"Don't forget to breathe, mate," Ron offered playfully, pausing from his own meal to consider his best friend. "Blimey, Harry, you look awful. What happened to you last night? You left at dinner and we haven't seen you since."
Harry knew his friend meant well, but he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps he just wanted to know which of the rumors he'd heard was true. Nevertheless, he answered him truthfully, relaying all that had happened in hushed tones so as to keep unwelcome
earsfrom hearing. When hewas finished, he could see the gears turning in both of his friends' heads, sorting out the rumors and comparing them to what they'd just been told. It was Hermione that spoke first, choosing her words carefully
so asto keep an already bad situation from becoming worse.
"Harry," she began slowly, "what exactly happened between you and Malfoy? You've never been particularly fond of each other, but still, you've never been like this."
"Maybe we're just growing up, Hermione," Harry replied icily. He immediately feltbad for snapping, but her question had struck something inside of him that he didn't even know was there. What was it that had changed? Had something changed?He
was almost certain it had, but what? Irritated at himself for being unable to pinpoint exactly what it was that had changed between them - aside from being convinced that Draco was now a Death Eater - he vowed to retire to the commonroom until
he had his head on straight. Gathering his belongings, he made his excuses and left the Great Hall, unaware of a pair of deep, grey eyes following him the entire way.