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Chapter Nine

If Draco had known the evening would go this way, he never would have gone out.

The last week had gone by relatively calmly, all things considered.

He had taken to inviting Blaise back to his private quarters for them to play chess. It had of course been easy for the latter to notice Draco's blindness. After being prompted quite harshly, the blond had come clean about his condition, while keeping his mate's identity a secret. It had held some relief to share it with someone he actually trusted, rather than a nurse and a Gryffindor.

Speaking of Gryffindor. Draco had seen Potter around, as he paraded his ginger sadly. Their eyes had met on occasion. Draco even thought he saw the other send him an occasional awkward smile, in lieu of staring at him with a look of profound confusion.

By then, his progressing loss of vision had become almost mundane. Every morning he'd wake up, realizing with a sigh that the object he could vaguely perceive the day prior was now out of sight. The only advantage with it happening over a certain course of time, is that it allowed some time to adjust and learn to maneuver. He was able to get around his own room with relative ease.

However, getting around school had become increasingly complicated. He veered towards the pull and only attended the classes that Potter followed also, at least it gave him a chance to see around him.

The rest of class however, he studied in the library, begrudgingly with Granger, or in his room with Blaise, whose efficiency as a teacher was quite limited.

Regardless, a sense of normalcy was returning to his life. Albeit a normalcy that included partial blindness, regular burns and night terrors.

It wasn't about to last.

The burn had been highly present all evening. It had caused him quite the amount of nausea, leaving him completely incapable of partaking in dinner.

So, come 10pm, his stomach growled ferociously.

He rounded the corner on the fifth floor in his silk pajamas and stopped dead in his tracks.

Not only could he see. He could see that.

Propped up against the wall, locked in a passionate kiss, was Ginny Weasley, held up by strong arms around her waist. Her hair was disheveled and Draco could see how her lips turned up in a beaming smile against the other's lips. He could hear the rumbling of moans and giggles escaping her chest.

But he couldn't keep his eyes off Potter. His mate.

His mate who was digging his fingertips into a ginger's thighs, his glasses askew, his breath coming out in groans. He had never looked more attractive to Draco.

And it killed him.

He couldn't stop the pained scream he emitted. It was a Cruciatus curse that coursed through every inch of his veins. Fire scorching him from the inside. The tears spilled onto his cheeks as his knees gave way beneath him. The sound of him falling echoed around him, like his pain extending into the world. He couldn't tell if the liquid on his face was tears or blood. He was burning, disintegrating.

"Merlin!"

He didn't hear the footsteps running towards him. Only vaguely registered the voice calling, "Ginny, get Madam Pomfrey!"

The places where the hands met his skin were hit with bursts of ice. The juxtaposition of the burn and the cold were breaking him apart and he pushed his mate's body away harshly.

"Stay away from me!"" he yelled, scrambling back against the wall, rolling himself into a ball.

He put his head between his knees, trying to calm the small sobs raking his shoulders but the pain was too much.

"Malfoy…" came the whisper.

"Don't!"

He didn't want to hear it. He could feel the shame, the embarrassment and the remorse emanating from Potter, could guess he would ask, knew he was afraid for his life. He knew that his mate hated seeing him like that, that he was worried beyond what he could express. But he also felt his confusion. He couldn't understand it was because of him.

"Malfoy," Potter tried again, softly, "Look at me."

It was a call he couldn't ignore. He slowly lifted his head and locked eyes with Potter. Through his tears, Potter's face was the only thing that seemed clear to him. The Gryffindor looked at him shakingly, searching for him.

Draco couldn't stop the tears.

Potter lifted his hand slowly, almost without noticing, and laid it gently on Draco's cheek, like a small breeze. With his thumb he stroked the tears away softly. Draco inhaled sharply as the burn dissipated into Potter's palm.

"Where does it hurt?" the raven whispered.

Draco swallowed, trying to stop the blockade in his throat. "Everywhere," he finally answered.

Potter nodded, leaving his fingers trailing his cheek. "Ginny is getting Madam Pomfrey," he said and it sent Draco reeling.

Knowing how this started, that the redhead was not gone, the embrace in which they had been locked, the knowledge that they had been heading for the room of Requirements. It didn't just fill him with jealousy or anger, but it filled him with a despair he had never felt before.

He pushed Potter back until he fell and climbed on top of him, punching him forcefully in the chest.

"Malfoy!" Potter yelled, "Stop!" He tried to hold his arms down rather than pushing the weaker man back.

"I can't!" Malfoy screamed back, "I can't stop!"

The tears resumed as his punches became weaker. "I want to," he continued, "But I can't! You get to choose, you get to run away, you get to fuck your fucking redhead mudblood lover-"

"Shut up!" Potter tried to interrupt but Draco was unstoppable.

"- you get to parade your relationship. You get to do whatever the hell you want! Don't fucking tell me to stop, I can't!"

He opened his eyes, out of breath, and looked down at Potter.

The latter stared at him, mouth agape. "Wha…" he started but couldn't finish.

Draco stepped off Potter and realized for the first time since he spoke that his body felt different. He still hurt, he still burned. But he felt the way his lips had hardened, the space his teeth took in his mouth, the cold patches on his back where his shirt had been torn. Shakingly he looked at his hands and saw the yellow claws retreating into his skin.

Potter sat up and looked at him with a deep frown. "Mal- Oh," he stopped himself and looked at Draco just as his eyes turned blue once more. He inhaled and whispered, "Oh Merlin."

Through their shared look, they both understood and the realization was worse than Cruciatus' curse he could receive. Draco could feel the small oh no hovering over the top of Potter's lips, he could swallow that rejection it was so present between them.

Something crossed Potter's eyes. A form of fear Draco had a hard time analyzing, but knew that it wasn't fear for him anymore. Draco used the wall to prop himself up, wanting to look away but needing to know it all.

"Potter…" he tried to start but realized fast enough that there was absolutely nothing he could say.

Loud footsteps echoed into the halls as Madam Pomfrey and the Weaselette came running towards them. The ginger wasted no time before being by her paramore's side. She yelled at Draco but he couldn't hear her, nor could he hear the nurse around him, asking him questions. All he could hear was Potter's increasing heartbeat as their eyes remained firmly on each other.

Draco understood, and hated the feeling it was giving him.

Potter was feeling, and hated the understanding it was giving him.

There would be no turning back.

And again it's shorter.. I'll stop saying it at some point. I'm doing my best in any case! Hope you like it. Thank you all 3

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