Floating (Drarry)

Buckbeak

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Waking up the next morning Draco was ready to compare it to waking up in Hell. The bandages were soaked through in blood and daggers of pain shot through him at every breath. It was two hours till he'd be on the train to Hogwarts. Malfoy reached for the thin blanket, even just discarding it brought tears to his eyes. The pain was so immense he saw stars and had to gulp for air to stay conscious.

He took a last deep breath hauling himself to his feet, cursing his father, himself and then Potter and Draco knew it wasn't even the boy's fault. That's what angered him the most. How could Potter live life happily while Malfoy was sat bruised and beaten but still the bad guy?

"I'll know," Lucius warned, "I'll know if you use a healing spell,".

"Yes sir," Draco nodded eyes glaring at the floor. 

"Goodbye Draco," his father said curtly. The departure was a weak one. Not filled with love and tears like most wizarding families but with pain and loathing. As Malfoy turned to face the direction of the train Lucius's cane dig deep into his shoulder pushing harshly against a bruise. The slytherin hissed in pain.

"Remember Draco, your a silly boy. Only silly boys fall down the stairs,".

Malfoy has arrived a few minutes earlier than the rush and as he hobbled along the trains corridor he went unnoticed. Plopping himself down on a compartment seat he stretched, ignoring the pain. His eyes shut, body weary from the lack of sleep. 

Click

"-there were pyramids and-" the voice stopped mid sentence. Draco looked up cursing his luck. Of course he bumps into the golden trio.

"What happened to you?" Hermione gasped.

"Fell down the stairs," Draco mumbled but the keen hearing of the other teens caught what he said.

"Bloody deserve it," Ron muttered shutting the door again. Malfoy sighed he was more annoyed Potter had nothing to say about it than the ginger's comment.

The slytherin wasn't in the mood for company and once the trio left he locked the door with a spell no one at Hogwarts would know how to reverse. Closing his eyes he fell asleep deciding to leave the inevitable and painful robe changing to his not so tired self.

"Heck of a fall that was," Hermione observed. The gryfindoor was uncomfortable. The recent conversation with a rather blonde slytherin didn't sit right. She was annoyingly stumped and rather worried. 

The three were now sat in small compartment accompanied by a peacefully sleeping professor.

"Look I've never been to Malfoy Manor but unless the stairs have fists surely he wouldn't end up looking like that," Harry was uncertain and found himself like Granger rather worried. Ron snickered at that.

"That wasn't meant to be funny," Hermione sighed glaring at the ginger boy stuffing his face. There was an awkward silence in the compartment as they all took the information in but soon Ron was busy talking about his favourite quidditch team and all was forgotten. 

It was easier that way. The prospect of Malfoy not being okay and the golden trio having to do something about it was far less appealing than imagining it never happened. Unfortunately for a certain blonde it was all real, very real.