𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

chapter 3

Chapter Three -

"Is there a problem here?" Blaise was stalking towards them, tall and imposing even in his school robes, his face a mask of cold fury. Harry could see the restrained anger in the dark man's eyes and felt himself relax, knowing that Blaise would take care of him.

Blaise had felt an icy rage build in his chest the moment he'd laid eyes on them. Though he was at the other end of the corridor, he could see the lines of muted pain on Harry's face, and the way the Ravenclaw gripped him without care. His wand was in his hand in an instant and he strode towards them, intent on ripping the little bastard holding Harry to pieces.

The Ravenclaws both jumped at his question and Blaise guessed that he must look rather threatening, as they blanched almost in unison. The boy released Harry instantly and backed away, dragging the girl with him.

"Um, no," the irritating shit said, his free hand up in the air in a placating gesture-the hand that had held Harry tight enough to cause him pain. Blaise memorized his face and made a silent promise that the school year would be living hell for the useless git. "Everything's fine; we'll just be going now." And with those last parting words, he turned around and fled, the blonde chit following close behind.

As soon as they were out of sight, Blaise turned to Harry, his entire countenance shifting.

Harry smiled at him weakly as he felt his magic settle, a little disbelieving at just how close he'd been to losing control of his temper and seriously hurting the two Ravenclaws. His shoulder stung rather badly and every time he twitched, a sharp pain lanced through his back and up his neck. Now that his magic wasn't coiling and writhing in restrained anger beneath his skin, he felt the pulled muscle and bruise in full. "Hey," he greeted his dark-skinned savior. Blaise said nothing, instead choosing to carefully remove Harry's robe and unbutton his white shirt. "Woah, hey!" he cried, yanking away only to groan in pain as the movement jarred his injury.

Blaise glared at him. "You're hurt," he growled. "Hold still."

Harry huffed, "Fine," and let Blaise continue to undress him, praying that no one else would happen upon the corridor and draw the wrong conclusions.

Harry's shoulder looked normal, but Blaise could tell that it was paining him greatly. What drew his attention the most, however, was the purpling, hand-shaped bruise decorating his left bicep like some sort of twisted tattoo. Blaise hissed in anger, even as Harry tried to deny how serious it was.

"It's not that bad," he protested feebly. He cried out when Blaise poked it with his wand to prove he was lying, and badly. "Ah! I get it, fine. Don't poke it! That hurt!"

Blaise shook his head at Harry's hard-headedness and pointed his wand at the bruise, being careful not to brush it, just as Harry had requested. "Episkey," he quietly intoned.

A dull yellow light shot from his wand and wrapped around Harry's arm before sinking into the skin. Within seconds, the bruise and the slight swelling around it disappeared. Harry blinked down at his arm in shock.

"Huh," he muttered, "Useful spell. I'll have to learn it."

"You need to go to Pomfrey for your shoulder. Episkey only heals minor wounds; it will probably make a sprain worse."

Harry scowled and sulked. He'd been trying to keep out of the Hospital Wing this year. He doubted that Madame Pomfrey would be happy to see him and told Blaise just that. He got a blank stare in return. "Impassive git," he grumbled as they both walked towards their destination.