Scarhead (A Drarry Fic)

chapter twenty eight-Draco's poem

Breathing in a lung full of smoke, Draco bent over, coughing, he was determined to find Harry and get him out the fire. He had not seen Blaise exit the house with him.  Which meant that they were still in the house. He lifted a burning log out of the way of the hall, allowing it to burn his hands at his touch. His mother was waiting outside, despite how much she opposed and argued with him not to go back in, he couldn't just let Harry stay in there and burn.

He checked the rooms along the Hall that they were supposed to have gone down to escape. He strained his ears at every doorway, listening before he entered. His eyes were watery and his lungs hurt, but he pressed on. Scavenging the house for Harry.

He walked into a room where the whole entrance wall had fallen, trying to see past the smoke. His foot caught something on the floor and he toppled forward. He searched around with his hands, feeling the surface which he had tripped over. His hands touched flesh. As he got a closer look, fearing deeply that it was Harry, he noticed that is was not. In fact, it was him. Lifelessly burning. He shoved him away. Suppressing a scream. This was the room Harry was in. "Harry" he called. His mouth filling with smoke. 

He groped the floor as he crawled. Looking for Harry. "Harry!" he called once more, not caring about how his lungs felt about it. He was on his hands and knees, sobbing and coughing, he had lost his wand somewhere in the house when the fire first started, he couldn't spell the smoke away from his mouth, he just had to endure. He gripped onto something in the far corner that felt like Harry's leg and he yanked it towards him. The light from the window shown through the smoke making Harry's ashen face just barely visible.

He let out the breath he was holding as he checked his pulse and found that he was still alive. He lifted him off the ground with great effort and turned toward the door. The fire blazed and burnt his legs as he walked, his pants from the knees down were completely gone, seared in the fire. He ambled along the corridors of the manor, keeping Harry's body close to him, in attempts to keep him away from the fire.

Reaching the back door the wall behind him collapsed, catching the back of his calf, he fell forward, throwing Harry from his arms. Screaming from the pain, he got to his knees, brushing off the ash that was scorching his calf. He rolled Harry from the kneeling position out the door in into the light of the sun. they were hardly visible from the ash that covered them.

  He stood on his shaky legs and carried Harry out the back gate, laying him on the ground at the foot of the garden wall. He collapsed next to him and coughed. He ripped him hand and stared at his unconscious body. He kissed him before he stood and limped away from the boy to find his mother. It was the last thing he wanted to do, leave Harry. But he couldn't stay, he needed to leave to a safe place. Away from the other death eaters. 

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Harry woke with a his lungs burning. He gasped for breath clawing at the ground beneath him for support as his back arched and he coughed out the ash that had collected itself.

"Harry, oh my god, Harry! You're okay!" Hermione yelled. She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him. "Harry!" tears ran down her face. "I didn't think you were going to make it. None of my spells were working!" she helped him sit up and hugged him tightly. Ron came from behind and joined the hug. He coughed some more and took in his surroundings.

"What happened?" he croaked, turning his head up to look at the tops of the trees around him. It was dark which made it difficult to see Hermione's face, but he could tell she was distressed.

"Harry, oh Harry." she sobbed again and tightened her embrace.

"Listen, Mate." Ron began, " Malfoy tried to rescue you, he created this whole plan which involved hermione and I catching the house on fire to, you know, get the death eaters to run out."