No Mouth But Some Serpent's

Chapter 12 - Paralysis

Thank you very much for the reviews for the last chapter! Review responses in LJ this afternoon as per usual.

And on we go.

Chapter Twelve: Paralysis

Harry isn't going to like this.
I don't care, Draco reassured himself fiercely as Harry stirred slightly in the hospital bed and then opened his eyes. He doesn't have to like it. He has to put up with it, though. I'm not leaving him alone.

Draco clenched his teeth. He intended to tell Harry the truth about what he had seen yesterday, and then heard while Harry was in the hospital wing last night. Harry wouldn't like that, either.

Draco didn't care. Sometimes friends had to do things that friends didn't like.

"Draco," Harry said, staring up at him with obvious surprise, as well as other emotions that Draco didn't bother taking the time to figure out. Harry wouldn't want him there. He already knew that. It was time to move on to other, more interesting facts. "I didn't know that you would be here. Don't you have studying to do?"

"It's Sunday," said Draco, and leaned closer to him. "No classes. No homework unless I want to do it." He spent a moment studying Harry. Harry just kept on blinking at him. His eyes were clear and very green from this close, but wary. He had his head tilted so that, for once, his fringe revealed his lightning bolt scar. Draco smiled despite himself. Harry made him feel helpless in so many ways, and this was one of them-that he could simultaneously be powerful enough to make Draco's head ache and vulnerable enough to make Draco want to grab him and hold him close.

"It's Sunday, then," said Harry.

"But aren't you hungry?" He turned and glanced out the window of the hospital wing. "I think it must be near noon already."

"I ate a big breakfast," said Draco. He decided that he could be patient. Diverting Harry's attempts to get rid of him one by one was good practice for dealing with the distinctly peeved Harry he would be facing in a moment.

"Oh." Harry paused and tried to think of something else to say. Draco watched his mind work, and the lazy loopings of Harry's Locusta on his chest. Sylarana fascinated him. She fascinated all the Slytherins, and some of the House practically worshipped Harry for being able to talk to her. Draco didn't think that Harry had caught on to that yet. "Um, well, didn't you want to celebrate the Quidditch victory yesterday?"

"There wasn't much of a celebration without you there," said Draco. He took a deep breath. "And no, Harry, I'm not tired myself, and I don't think that I ought to be in the library studying ahead for Professor Snape's class, and I'm not interested in a walk around the lake today. I even brought food for Sylarana. Here."

He dipped a hand into the pocket of his robe and found the treacle tart he'd put there from dinner last night. He extended it to Sylarana, who uttered a hiss that Draco dared to imagine was pleased, and swallowed several pieces whole. Draco saw her folded fangs gleaming as she ate delicately.

"Oh," said Harry again. "Thank you." Sylarana faced him and hissed something then, and Harry's eyes widened. He hissed back. Draco half-closed his eyes. He had heard tales of Parselmouths, but had never imagined he would meet one, unless the Dark Lord returned someday. Even after a month of knowing Harry could do it, it still startled him, and touched off a shiver deep within a part of him that he had no name for. The most Slytherin part, perhaps.

"What did she say?" Draco asked, when the conversation seemed to have finished, and Sylarana went back to eating the treacle tart.

"She thanked you for bringing the food." Harry's eyes were carefully watching the door to the hospital wing now, as though he expected visitors at any moment. Draco allowed himself a smirk. Harry wasn't really all that transparent. But Draco had been close to him for more than a year now, and had watched him carefully in all that time, and he knew what those tiny facial expressions meant.