I Think I Like Him

11. He Who Hesitates Is Lost

Word count: 1337

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By the next day, Draco was anything but okay; his head pounding with questions that he was simply too filled with shame and embarrassment to even begin to tackle. So instead he sat glaring at a group of Gryffindors from the Slytherin table. All Potters friends, he observed; containing Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, the Weasley twins and a few others he didn't care to learn the names of.

As he watched them chortling about some absurd thing that Gryffindors find amusing, he felt someone sit down next to him. Pansy. He didn't look up, but heard her sigh as she looked at him, "Draco?"

Figuring he couldn't pretend he didn't know she was there any longer, he turned his head slightly, lifting his gaze to her dark eyes as they stared down at him expectantly, "Yes, Pansy?"

"Are you.. okay?"

His brows furrowed at the question, knowing it wasn't like Pansy to ask such things, not to him, anyway. Their friendship had stemmed from a shared humour, mostly consisting of throwing awful insults to one another, all in good sport, of course.

He glanced down his house table, only to see one of Pansy's repulsive friends staring down at them both. He rolled his eyes at the evident situation, in that Pansy had more than likely been ranting to said friend, and she had convinced her to change her approach in trying to get something out of him. This tactic was easily used on anyone, though Draco was not just anyone. Having been emotionally manipulated since infancy; he had in turn, essentially become immune. So questions such as 'are you ok?' Would not be the means of finding out things about him, that he would not have divulged otherwise.

"I'm not stupid, Pansy" He looked away, back to the Gryffindor table.

"Please.. if it's something you're keeping from me, then it must be important, and I just want to help you!" The girls voice grew whiny, which he always hated. Maybe it was that, that pushed him to say what he said next. Or maybe he was just in a pissy mood.

"But that's just it" His head shot to face her, leaning forward to spit the words harshly, "Because it isn't important. In fact it doesn't concern you in the slightest, and the fact you have decided it does makes you intolerable to be around" he hissed, nastily. He turned away again. Pansy was quiet for a moment before he felt her leave the table. He couldn't allow himself to feel bad, as he had too many other emotions in his head for guilt join them as well.

His eyes continuously returned to the Gryffindors, subconsciously wondering why Potter wasn't there, until he remembered how the raven had told him that his injuries meant he would have to remain in the hospital for a few days. Draco's emotionless gaze shortly morphed into a glare, as it dawned on him how while they were all joking around, seemingly having the time of their lives, their best friend was stuck in the hospital ward alone.

Then a memory from that morning, of which at the time had been deemed barely worth paying attention to, now found to be of more importance.

Draco had been on his way to breakfast when he overheard Madam Pomfrey discussing a short absence with Professor McGonagall, who informed her that she would take care of any medical emergency that may occur, while she was at St Mungo's picking up medical supplies much too delicate to be sent by owl. It had been almost 13 hours since she had left, therefore since Potter had had his last potion, however if madam Pomfrey had not given him an extra dose, which he could not fully trust that she had, it would make it almost 20 hours since his last dose.

He stood jerkily, and as calmly as he could, exited the great hall, breaking into a sprint as soon as he was out of sight. Impatiently waiting for each set of staircases, he eventually made it to the fourth floor.

Then a memory from that morning, of which at the time had been deemed barely worth paying attention to, now found to be of more importance.

Draco had been on his way to breakfast when he overheard Madam Pomfrey discussing a short absence with Professor McGonagall, who informed her that she would take care of any medical emergency that may occur, while she was at St Mungo's picking up medical supplies much too delicate to be sent by owl. It had been almost 13 hours since she had left, therefore since Potter had had his last potion, however if madam Pomfrey had not given him an extra dose, which he could not fully trust that she had, it would make it almost 20 hours since his last dose.

He stood jerkily, and as calmly as he could, exited the great hall, breaking into a sprint as soon as he was out of sight. Impatiently waiting for each set of staircases, he eventually made it to the forth floor.

Before he had even opened the door, he could hear Potter's yells. Flinging it open, he ran to the only bed with its privacy curtains drawn. Potter was yelling so much, he was scarcely leaving himself time to breath, and by each scream, Draco could hear his throat grow more and more hoarse.

Draco could tell he was in too much pain to acknowledge him, so he rushed off to the potions supply closet and grabbed a few of the same potions that he had done the night before. Running back, he juggled the vials in his arms before grabbing one and pulling the cork out with his teeth, tipping it into Potter's agape mouth.

He at first began to choke, until his instinct to swallow finally kicked in, luckily before his gag reflex did. After a few minutes, he seemed to calm down slightly, at least enough to acknowledge Draco. His arms never left his stomach however, and the groans of pain never ceased.

Coming to terms with the fact that Potter was clearly not getting better no matter how long he waited, he gently lifted Potter's arms (much to his protest) away from the bandages tightly wrapped around his torso. He held Potter down to keep him still, whispering Diffindo, and as precisely as he could, he sliced the bandages and silently watched as they fell away.

Draco gasped at the sight before him, as he horrifically couldn't tell where the tissue ended and the bone began. Tergeo, he flicked his wand to clear the blood, trying to keep his composure while also keeping his other hand firmly pressed on Potter's chest to prevent him from seeing that same thing that definitely would stay with Draco for awhile.

Not trusting Harry to stay still, with silent, but clear objection, he put a small bodybinding jinx on him. With an unsure glance at the Gryffindor, and an uttered, Ferula, fresh, white bandages wound themselves neatly around Potter, and joined, taut against his mildly tan skin.

Removing the bodybind jinx, he tipped yet another potion down his throat, hoping that the double dose would sooth him. He stared at Potter with wide eyes.

"What? What is, -what is it!?" Potters voice was strained, and it seemed to take a lot out of him just to speak.

"I don't think it's supposed to- ...it isn't-" Draco let out a breath "I need to go get McGonagall" Potter nodded slowly, his mind seemingly miles away from where he laid. He stared at the raven for a few seconds, before remembering the situation and set towards the doors.

"Wait!"

Draco swivelled round with wide eyes, holding his breath.

"Come.. come back?"

Letting out a sharp sigh of relief, he told Harry in a quiet, kind voice; "I promise" with a nod of understanding, he felt the corners of his mouth twitched downwards slightly, before he left the room.