Chapter 8

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There was bustling to be heard from downstairs and Draco awoke to the violent shaking of the boy he now knew as Bill Weasley, from the girl calling his name from downstairs. Draco was shaken so violently that as boy with flaring red hair took a noticeably large step back, Draco off the bed, toward him, still wrapped tight in the Quidditch blanket Ron had. The boy quietly walked out, without another word, and left Draco scrambling to push himself out of the Quidditch straight jacket, wondering how the boy didn't seem to fear him in the slightest. Eventually he managed to escape and shuffled to his feet, stumbling as he rose.

"Oh, Malfoy, perfect! Go to St. Mungo's and spend some time with Harry, please. We won't have time today." Mrs. Weasley blurted out as he stepped of the last step with a loud creak. Bill and Mrs. Weasley were frantically throwing on jackets and double checking if they had everything in a small duffle bag that he assumed to be larger on the inside than it appeared.

"Where are you—" Draco started to ask, but was signaled to stop by Mrs. Weasley's wave of her hand. Bill seemed to be grabbing every item he saw as valuable and Mrs. Weasley was simply grabbing anything that came into view.

Draco went to start again, but was quickly stopped when Mrs. Weasley turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "What're you waiting for?" She asked sharply and Draco took this a signal to escort himself out.

He spotted a small sack of Floo powder on the kitchen counter, opened the small sack to grab a pinch and walked into the next room where he threw the ash-like powder into a barely alive fire that suddenly burst into life. Before leaving he turned back to get one last look at the rundown, creaky, oversized shack, having an odd feeling that this would be the last he ever saw of it.

As the fire spit him out into a decent sized room with around six beds, he spotted Harry. He shook his head to regain proper vision and was almost crushed to see that the boy laying in the bed was nearly nothing like the boy he'd once despised. He seemed like more of a wax figure than a living being with his face lost of all color and bandages all up the arm that had been bitten. Draco walked over and observed the slight bleeding that was visible through the bandages, holding himself back with difficulty. "M-Malfoy?" A weak voice spoke that seemed unfamiliar spoke from Harry's lifeless looking body and cause Draco to almost sprint out of the room.

Draco gulped and gasped, but any word he tried to speak was inaudible and died before reaching his lips. He wished to give a snide remark that would allow Harry to ask him to leave, so he could run far from this place, but his plan was backfiring. Harry opened his eyes and to Draco's surprise they were still a vibrant green that never compared to anyone else's. The nearly colorless room was dead silent except for the small voice of a two healer's speaking deliberately quietly. "Who knew a snake bite could do so much damage? The only other case I've heard like this was the one with Arthur Weasley." One healer said and this did not ease the tight feeling in Draco's chest that he was trying to simultaneously deny yet ignore. He'd hated Harry, for their family's morals were complete opposites, but if this is true then why does watching his damaged body pain Draco?

He must've been staring intensely at Harry as he spaced out, for Harry tilted his head slightly and raised a jet black brow. "You alright, Malfoy?" Harry asked and his calm words echoed through Draco's head as he tripped over his own feet and was desperately attempting to prevent himself from throwing up.

Finally, Draco could salvage a sentence from his lips, fighting back any sign that would indicate he cared. "I'm fine, Potter! Why do you suddenly care and what's the mass amounts of bandages for, seeking attention again, are we, Potter? Just can't get enough of that, can you? Perfect Potter, I'm surprised you're not surrounded by a flock of Mudbloods wishing to see their hero, who was bested by a snake!" Draco snapped, gasping for air after and trying to force himself to smirk, but failing miserably.

Harry sat up suddenly to give a perfect retort, but ended up causing searing pain to surge through his arm, once again. He winced and both healers fled to his side as he fell back down, pushing Draco as they passed. "The bleeding has started, again. We warned him not to move again. He's lost so much blood already!" One of the healers quickly stated as trying to shove a bottle of red liquid down Harry's throat, while the other rapidly removed the bandages to profusely pour liquid on the wound, which appeared to be surrounded by purplish-red skin that ran up his arm. Draco took a step backward, horrified at what he had caused and fled the scene quicker than a bat out of hell, partially because he feared himself attacking the boy's wound and worsening the situation.

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