The Girl Who Lived

Fright

May 25th, 1996.
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There was an angel looking down on him.

The angel was watching him with wide eyes, full of unknown curiosity and impatience. Stunning emerald eyes searched his face, wandering like a lost traveler.

He knew who the angel was, the saint that watched over him.

He swam in a pool of white light surrounding the angel, merely watching while she beckoned him.

It was the truest temptation he had ever felt.

"Theo," Someone called out. It sounded like it was underwater. "Shove off, you're going to frighten him,"

The angel floated away, turning her back on him and leaving him alone.

There was no more white light as he was dragged away from his own heaven looming in his thoughts. He was back within his own body, far away from whatever he had been dreaming peacefully of.

Indeed, there was someone watching over him as Draco opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by the morning lights in the large room. He was laying on something soft- a bed.

Hospital wing.

"He's awake!" Theo exclaimed, flooding with relief while he gripped Draco's shoulders and shook him.

Draco groaned, his entire world spinning. "Fuck off,"

The last thing Draco could remember was fighting with Fred Weasley, when had that happened? It felt so long ago.

Madam Pomfrey rushed in, fretting about Theo, Pansy, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise surrounding Draco's cot too closely. She hurriedly spoke, barely comprehensible but Draco didn't listen, he was too busy adjusting himself on the bed.

He was propped up against mounds of pillows Madam Pomfrey had stuffed behind him to keep him upright and facing his friends.

His friends were there, including Daphne, who he had barely even spoken to.

Blaise was behind them all, watching with hidden interest. Daphne and Theo were gripping each other but Theo and Pansy kept glancing at each other nervously. They clearly hadn't sorted out their problems.

Pansy pushed a glass of water towards Draco, urging him to drink it. He didn't want to lift his hand. He was too tired.

"Fuck off?" Theo gawked, stepping forward and fluffing more of the pillows behind Draco. "If it wasn't for me, you would still be bleeding out on the floor in front of Slytherin house!"

Had Draco really just fallen after his fight with Fred?

"You brought me here?" Draco asked, rubbing his throat. Everything was sore.

Theo looked mildly offended as he straightened and narrowed his eyes at his friend. "You never came back to the common room, you idiot. It was six in the morning when I left the common room to see if you had gotten killed or something, only to find you in a pool of your own blood right in front of the entrance!"

Theo's hands shook slightly.

He had picked his best friend up, tried his best to carry him to the infirmary by himself, all while Draco was bleeding out from the back of his head.

Draco had been as pale as death, barely breathing when Theo had finally gotten him here, covered in his friend's blood. Madam Pomfrey had tried to push him away while she worked on Draco but Theo stood still next to Draco's cot, waiting for a miracle.

"He hasn't slept, he was too worried about you-" Daphne smiled weakly, holding herself.

"We've all been worried about him, Daphne. Not just Theo or you." Pansy cut in, her razor-sharp eyes focused on Draco.