reconstruct, drarry ✓

Ch.11

The next few days pass exceedingly slow for both Harry and Blaise, not they have communicated since Draco's incident however. Both boys couldn't seem to get the blonde Slytherin off their minds, after all how many people their age just randomly start passing out in pain and almost vomiting for no reason?

Hermione on the other hand was more concerned towards Harry. She knew something was troubling her best friend, yet he refused to talk to both her or Ron about it. It was aggravating because all she wanted to do was help yet he shut her out, just like he had done to Ron in fourth year. Sighing as she watched Harry glance around, scanning the great hall at breakfast once again like he had for the last three days since they got back, she let her mind wander to what they would be doing in transfiguration that day.

_______

Draco however wasn't given the choice to worry about petty things such as classes. He was strapped to a gurney in the hospital wing as he thrashed violently in his sleep locked into a soundproofed room as he screamed his throat raw.

The room Draco was locked in -thanks to the wonderful Madam Promfey- looked like a place to store extra medical supplies. It was completely bare with sterile white walls and tiled flooring, absent of paintings, ledges, cabinets and anything even slightly interesting, not that it mattered though. It's not as if the screaming boy on the gurney would notice, after all he was still unconscious and didn't seem like he would be awake for a while.

It had been like this for over twenty-four hours, only breaking off for ten minutes every three hours when he'd spike a fever hot enough to kill four normal wizards. No,
Draco Malfoy was not alright at all.

Although in a deep sleep with no idea where he was or how long he had been in this coma like slumber he was in pain. Excruciating pain. He felt like all his bones had been smashed into tiny fragmented pieces and then prickling like hot coals in a fire they popped and sizzled, making his skin feel as if it was burning from the inside out. His blood felt heavier then lead as it slugged around his body making him feel nauseous, but his throat was to raw to even try to be sick and relive the nausea feeling inside. Draco's head pounded with random shapes and colours blinding him every so often making it even worse. His muscles clenched and released sporadically with no control and his whole body ached in both new and old pain.

If this wasn't hell, then Draco wasn't sure if he knew what was.

Every so often though his body would get a break. Everything would stop for a few minutes, no where near long enough or his body to even try and fix what was happening, but enough for Draco to take a long deep breath and prepare for the next tidal wave of pain that would be ten times worse then the last. It was those few moments without pain that kept him going, surely the pain will end soon, it has to.

Then when the time had passed it would start all over again, and his pain stricken screams would be echoing off the sound proofed room once again.
Maybe it was a good thing the walls had no windows, after all their wouldn't have been any glass left in them if there was.

_________

Another day passed before Draco woke from his painful slumber, his head still pounding and his eyes seeing spots but he was awake and that's all Madam Promfey cared about. Her patient had woken up so she could administer the potions she thought might help his state, even though the headmaster failed to even spare the time to tell the nurse what his state was.

Draco however was forbidding towards the potions. He down right refused to take them, making a slightly enraged nurse to be dealt with, constantly repeating the phrase, "You'll only get worse if you refuse, so take the damn potions already!"

Of course Draco being as stubborn as a mule, didn't stop him from refusing time and time again. Eventually the nurse just gave up and kept him locked up in the white room with only the small hum of three muggle machines hooked up to him injecting liquids into his body.

Although Draco wasn't very familiarized in the identification of potions -at least not as familiar as concocting them anyways- he was almost positive that one of them was a light sleeping draught along with a calming draught that was steadily being pumped into him.

Despite being just awoken from his long coma like sleep of pain and suffering Draco was exhausted, extremely so. So it was to no surprise that slowly and unwantingly the blonde boy slipped back in the realms of dreams. And for once in the past three days of his painful slumber he wasn't in pain besides the dull ache that seemed to blossom within his chest.