sweetener; drarry

17; paper-thin skin

TRACK 17
Oh! Darling
The Beatles

🍓

"Get the fuck away from that Death Eater scum, Harry!"

Harry rose from his seat, not entirely aware that he was the one controlling his legs, but moving with such purpose that it caused Draco to shoot up too. His heart thumped in his throat and his arms suddenly felt heavy, not entirely helpful if this confrontation wound up in a brawl. Ron, ears almost as scarlet as his hair and this horribly hostile expression on his face, advanced towards the pair -- fists clenched. The brunet grabbed Draco's wrist and thrust it behind him, the blond's body following shortly after. Harry's protective nature ran parallel with his hotheadedness and if Ron swung, he would be ready.

"Don't call him that." Harry's voice came out in a low whisper which barely carried through the library -- that had suspiciously drained of all other life -- and also cracked slightly. Potter wanted to kick himself for the voice break, though the slight waver in Ron's expression showed that it held a lot more danger in it than if his voice had sailed smoothly.

"Why are you defending that prick?" Ron's features had returned to that terrible expression of utmost betrayal. Albeit his voice sounding shrill and desperate, his quickly-turning-white knuckles did nothing to persuade Harry.

"The only prick here is you -- storming in here and demanding things of me when the last time we spoke you were telling me off." The brunet's shoulders tensed as Draco shifted behind him, making him start as adrenaline roared through his veins. Whatever the blond was doing, Harry needn't care. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.

"Telling you off for bumming up to a fucking bully! You're obsessed, Harry, can't you see? You do this all the time, it's always someone new and now it's that." Ron flicked his head in Draco's direction and his yell reverberated off the high walls of the library and cascaded down in broken echoes.

"How fucking dare you, he needs someone, Ron! And I'm the only one willing to help--"

"Oh, will you give it a rest, for fuck's sake! Why do you think that is? Because he's a ruddy Death Eater!" Harry's vision grew blurry as he shook with pure rage, didn't he just tell the bastard to stop calling Draco that?

"Call him that again, I dare you." The brunet's voice rose louder still, clenching his teeth and grinding them hard.

"Harry, stop, please--" Draco interjected, lightly gripping Harry's bicep before a malice-ridden Ron interrupted.

"Stay out of this, Death Eater."

"DON'T FUCKING CALL HIM THAT!" Harry bellowed, forgetting entirely about his wand and driving a forceful punch into Ron's unsuspecting jaw. The latter stumbled backwards, hands rushing up to clutch at his open mouth. Ron's eyes shot up to Harry, pure disbelief and fear flashing across them. Without a second's notice, the brunet rushed at the ginger and hit every square inch he could reach. Blood roared in his ears, blocking out all sounds other than a high pitched ringing, and all he saw was red. Red, red, red. Just like the warm substance that was quickly spreading across his knuckles like an infection.

Nothing mattered. Not Draco, not detention, not expulsion. All Harry wanted was to make sure Ron never said those words again.

His anger burned so thoroughly through his body that he barely recognised the frail hands clasping at the back of his robes, pulling with all their might to throw him off of Ron. Said ginger beneath him did nothing to stop the constant pummeling and even his cries had died down now. Harry continued to punch, each strike growing more and more vicious -- the warm liquid splattering his face and chest now. It was only when those slender fingers grabbed his shoulders and tugged him back that he swung around and threw a depraved right hook at the person behind him. His fist connected with Draco's stomach, paper-thin skin stretched over aching bones and organs seemingly tearing beneath his knuckles.

The blond doubled over, retching and spluttering as blood dribbled down his chin. His pale fingers found themselves wiping the blood from his face and staring at it as though he had never seen it before. As if he couldn't believe it. His hazy glare then landed on Harry, completely bare except for the rising level of fear behind them. The blond turned tail and ran -- and that final, terrified expression in his grey eyes burned into Harry's brain.

He slid off Ron, unable to take his gaze away from the mess he had created. The ginger's face was distorted, blotchy and swollen, and it was all Harry's fault. He cupped his arms underneath the taller boy's armpits and heaved him up and over his shoulder, struggling with him towards the exit of the library -- again forgetting that he had the ability to carry Ron with a simple spell. Draco would have to wait, Ron clearly needed medical attention. But then again, Draco had been so fragile and his body even moreso. Perhaps one punch was all it would take to rob the boy of his life. Harry pushed the thought aside, Ron was right in front of him and unconscious. If Draco needed the hospital, he could take himself.

Right?

AN: another short one IM SORRY OKAY, but this made me sad to write bcoz i can kinda relate to harry's outburst :( anyway, what do y'all think will happen next? i wonder...