Please Be There If I Remember

Chapter Eleven: Concern

Harry POV!

Harry watched as Draco swayed on his feet and his eyes closed imperceptibly. One could almost call it peaceful; the way he moved side to side like a pendulum, and how his eyes were closed in a way that made Harry's heart stutter and beat quickly in his chest.

His reverie was broken, though, once he saw Malfoy tip forwards and lean towards the ground as he let out a small grunt of pain. Before that, he seemed to have been looking through his pockets frantically with a slowness that made Harry grimace—panic written all over his face as Draco seemed to know what was about to happen before he fainted into oblivion.

Harry had reached forward, his traitorous mouth yelling out "Draco!" before he could stop it, and, using his seeker reflexes to grab him before he face planted on the floor, he had caught him around his waist and hauled him up, thanking Merlin that they were right in front of the hospital wing.

Draco felt light beneath his fingers, his robes now dangling on the floor because of the way that Harry had caught him—like it was some kind of trust fall, where he fell backwards into Harry and he couldn't help but reach out and catch him under his arms and around his middle before he got another fatal injury to his head. He couldn't help but think of what Draco would say if he saw his robes mingling and resting on the dirty floor, and he tried and failed to stop the smile from spreading on his face before shaking his head.

Malfoy just fainted Harry. Get it together. He nodded a firm assent to himself, getting rid of his smile and replacing it with a frown, and brought Malfoy upwards, tugging his limp arm around his shoulder so he could drag him to the hospital wing.

As he started to walk, Harry kept getting distracted by the way Malfoy's breath brushed against his neck—sending shivers down his spine that he pointedly ignored—and tried not to think too hard about the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

He couldn't decide which option was worse: Harry being concerned for Malfoy, or Harry actually liking Malfoy and the close contact.

He decided the former was safer, but neither option seemed to make his heart beat any slower. If anything, it only made it faster at the implications of both.

Maybe I'm just tired from trying to figure out how to teach kids about Defence Against the Dark Arts when I barely know any myself and I see Cedric's face every time I cast an Expelliarmus. Yep. That's totally it.

He was barely even tiring when he opened the door and called for Madam Pomfrey. The witch was cleaning up the room when she looked up and saw Harry's stricken face and a limp Malfoy in his arms.

She reacted almost instantly, running over and asking what had happened before levitating Malfoy onto the clean bed beside her with newly fitted sheets.

"I'm not sure," Harry answered back to the witch's question. "We were talking when suddenly he went very pale and started to faint. He seemed to be looking for something in his pockets, though."

"That would be the headache potion I gave him. Well, I am glad you were there to catch him, Mr. Potter," she said, looking at Draco with a wince. "I'm not sure what would have happened if he received any more head trauma than he already has. I'll be sure to monitor him, but I think it is best to let him rest for now, as sleep will do his headache good."

Harry glanced at the resting face of Draco Malfoy and his breath hitched.

He looked so much more calm and peaceful when he was unconscious, his eyebrows resting neatly above his lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly open.

If Harry didn't know any better, he would say Malfoy looked angelic. But he quickly stopped that train of thought before it could get any farther.

"Ok, thanks Madam Pomfrey. Do you uh...know what time he'll wake up?" If anything, this question was more embarrassing than the way he had blurted out before asking if Draco was alright, and he willed his cheeks to stop flushing so much.