I Think I Like Him

35. Fighting for Breath

Been a while, I'm sorry! Don't we all hate writers block? Took me some time to get through this chapter, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out! Harry's realisation near the end makes me smile. :)

Word Count: 1950

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After a few minutes of intense staring, Severus left the three to follow Harry towards the black lake. Draco decided that in their professor's absence, he should be the one to continue the incessant glaring. Granger did manage to ignore him for a good few minutes, to her part.

"Oh Malfoy, would you stop it?"

He didn't even blink - transfixed in his attempt to figure out how the imperious curse works, and do it both word and wandlessly. He apparently succeeded.

"Oh fine! But I'm not doing this because of you. I want to make sure Harry's okay just as much - no, more than you do. Okay? Right, yes, okay."

With that, she whipped out her wand and unbound his limbs. Draco stretched out his arms experimentally, before jumping up from his place on the ground. It was longer than he would ever admit before he realised he still couldn't speak. The blonde resumed his death stare with a finger pointing expectantly at his mouth. Weasley snorted, "Do you have to, 'Mione? He's so much more bearable like this!"

The pair winced at the face Draco pulled in response before Granger took out her wand again. "He's only going to keep pulling that face" She sighed, muttering, "Finite Incantatem"

"Finally!" Draco burst as soon as he found himself able. "Now hurry up!" He immediately turned to continue his previous sprint up the hill, before Weasley spoke.

"Erm... Malfoy?"

"What?"

Weasley motioned to his leg; Granger huffing in exasperation. "Why do you think I unbound you? I can't help him by myself."

Draco groaned, jabbing his finger around as he spoke, "Why must you Gryffindors do everything the hard way? It'll take us ages to get there if we have to drag him along"

"I'm coming!" Weasley said with finality, and so that was unfortunately that.

...

Harry was finally convinced; he was a catalyst for bad luck. Like, the Minister of the stuff. The fucking King.

Because sure - you find out that the maniac who caused your parents' deaths is the same stupidly dangerous maniac that escaped out of Azkaban and is hunting you down. Fine, whatever. But then you find out that it actually wasn't him, but your best friend's pet rat who is really the crazed maniac, and the first maniac is actually your Godfather. Again, it's fine. But then, just as you have escaped a werewolf (who is also your favourite Professor), said Godfather rolls down a huge hill straight towards the black lake. Okay? Another Tuesday. But then what really starts to take the piss, is when a swarm of a hundred dementors - your literal worst fear - comes down and tries to suck out both your souls.

And maybe all that wouldn't have been so bad, if he could cast a strong enough Patronus. But he can't. Because with his half-dead Godfather lying unconscious at his feet, it's somehow difficult for a memory of his parents to make him feel the same as it did before. The end of his wand flickered in a taunting shadow of what he could do before. Maybe it hadn't been corporal, but it was something. Now? Now, he stands there uselessly as what seems like the entire population of Azkaban's Dementors closes in, with a flicker of light that would make for a crappy Lumos, never mind anything else.