Fractured ✔️

68.00

Ron's POV:

I let out a small puff of air, staring up at the canopy of my bed.

I would normally be asleep by now.

Bloody hell, I'm such a prat.

I quietly pulled my curtain back and and slid my feet into my slippers, creeping as quietly as I could towards the door of my dorm, past Neville who snored peacefully in his bed.

I closed the door gently behind me and head up the hallway to Harry and Malfoy's room, grateful that it lay slightly ajar.

I crept over to Harry's bed, where he slept soundly, a green jumper clutched tightly in his arms.

I pulled the silvery cloak out of his open drawer, and threw it over my shoulders, heading quickly out of the dormitory, and back down the dimly lit hallway.

I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, yawning as I padded gently through the common room. I had just rounded the corner to push open the portrait, when I hit my elbow hard on the doorway, I clutched a hand over my mouth to hold in the string of profanities that threatened to spill out of my mouth.

I clambered past the doorway and out into the silent hallway that lay beyond.

The only light was from the moon, that I could see from the windows that lined the cold stone walls, and I cursed myself for not bribing the map with me.

I hurried along the corridor, walking as swiftly as my clumsy limbs would allow me to.

After narrowly avoiding Mrs Norris, and a suspicious Filch, I arrived outside the hospital wing.

To my astonishment the doors were slightly open, just enough that I could manage to slip through them without creating too much noise.

I scanned the room when I entered, a few beds were occupied. I recognised none of the sleeping figures, so I did a quick double take of the room.

Where the hell is he?

Finally I spotted him, a single bed tucked into the corner beside Madam Pomfrey's office. The curtains were drawn but I knew it had to be him.

I moved slowly over to the bed, lingering outside the curtains, should I really be doing this?

I took a deep breath, and slid past the curtain. My stomach felt as though it had dropped to the floor as I looked at the blonde lying in the bed.

Beaten to a pulp.

Battered to within an inch of his life.

I sank down into the chair beside the bed, my hands shaking and my knees feeling weak.

I pulled the cloak off from around my shoulders, and let it fall down my back.

"Bloody hell. What've they done to you?" I said quietly, feeling unease knotting my stomach into tight twists and coils.

I almost expected him to reply with a sarcastic comment, as I sat and stared at his almost lifeless form.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled.

"I didn't mean it. I-I... well I don't know what to say. I shouldn't even be here. If I get caught 'Miones gonna kill me. I should've came earlier. But I was too scared. What if you'd gone and kicked the bucket? Thinking I still hate you? Because I don't."

I paused, feeling a tint spreading on my cheeks as embarrassment crept over me. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I still felt stupid.

"I'm bloody scared that you won't wake up. And you'll never know the truth. I don't know what Harry would do if you didn't wake up."

"You need to wake up Malfoy. Bloody git..."

I pulled the cloak back over my shoulders and threw the hood over my head.

I slid back through the doors and out into the dark room, hurrying out and onto the deserted corridor.

I made my way back to the dorms, the feeling of guilt beginning to ebb away, with an overwhelming rush of sadness replacing it.

I hope he wakes up...