The Healer- A Draco Malfoy Fanfiction

Chapter 41

May.

Spring was coming, and Draco and I both hated it.

Sunny, warm days made me uncomfortable. I much preferred the cold weather, which made everything misty and white. The awkward seasonal change between winter and spring was rather hideous- the castle grounds were riddled with mud puddles, and the weather oscillated nauseatingly between sunny and cloudy. Additionally, Draco and I fell in love in the winter. I found comfort in it.

Draco hated the spring because it meant his time was running out. Each day the weather grew warmer felt to him like we were creeping closer and closer to the fiery gates of Hell.

Now that winter had come to an end, Draco's vicious love for me had now escalated into a full-blown obsession.

Draco informed me that when Blaise confronted him with how he thought I was making him "soft", he had been so blinded by rage that he completely forgot his wand and lunged at him like an animal. "I couldn't let him speak of you that way," Draco said to me when I checked on him. "I don't care that he was drugged with truth serum."

"But you will speak to him again, won't you?" I asked hopefully, after explaining that it was all a scheme Pansy had arranged to drive us apart.

"Not in a million years."

"But Blaise is your friend-"

"Anyone who speaks ill of you is no friend of mine," Draco replied, looking sour, but his eyes speaking of sadness, "I only need you."

After hearing Draco say that, I decided not to tell him that Snape had offered to transfer me to Ilvermorny. If Draco knew I was thinking of leaving, it would destroy him. After all, he had become almost entirely dependent on me.

Draco began fetching me from the Hospital Wing when he needed my companionship in the Room of Requirement, where we-or rather, he- would frantically make love. He was careful not to scare me again after he choked me in the women's restroom, but he would do other things; restraining my hands, gripping my hair, tracing his teeth along the sensitive parts of my flesh. I learned that he liked it when I whimpered a little. It turned him on when I looked a little scared- but not too scared to where I'd ask to stop. Not that I would ever tell him to stop, anyway.

I realized that sex was something I could do that always made Draco feel better. No drug I gave him had the same effect. So I let him be rough with me, and get out his discontent and aggression in the form of passionate, biting sex. I didn't even say anything when he left the taste of cigarette ashes in my mouth.

I enjoyed it most of the time. But other times, I felt like I was watching myself from behind a screen. This didn't bother me, because I reminded myself that this was what Draco needed, and that I was keeping him from falling apart. It was my own sort of healing magic, and my cunt was the medicine.

He needed me at least once a day.

Draco began to disrupt my schedule in the Hospital Wing. To make up for the lost time I spent tending to him, I would return to assist Madam Pomfrey until curfew. This ended up working out, because that meant Madam Pomfrey could go off to have dinner while I monitored patients while sitting on an ice pack to alleviate my soreness. I spent most of April being sore.

It was a sunny Saturday morning when Ron Weasley returned to the Hospital Wing with a Quidditch injury.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked with disappointment. "You boys can never stay out of the Hospital Wing for longer than a few weeks, can you..."

Harry Potter was at Ron's side, who was limping as Madam Pomfrey eased him into a bed. They were both still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms. "Miscommunication during practice," Harry muttered, saying something about Cormac McLaggen under his breath.