Inevitable

7 | You're in Love With Him

Draco was in his lab, tearing at his hair in frustration when the stroke of inspiration hit him.

He jumped up and started gathering ingredients.

It took all night, but as the sun rose the next morning he stared into a bubbling cauldron, hoping against all hope that he'd found a solution to counter the potion that had been on the knife.

He didn't bother with his appearance this time. He scooped up a vial of the potion and made his way to Harry's room as quickly as he could.

He burst in, only to realize that Harry was still fast asleep. Not surprising, given that it was barely 5 o'clock in the morning.

Draco froze a few feet from the bed, watching the other man. He was curled on his side, a blanket wrapped around him. He would have looked peaceful, except that his breathing was ragged, his cheeks were flushed, and his skin was starting to take on a gray tinge.

"Oh, Harry..."

Draco crouched beside the bed. He reached out and placed a tentative hand on his forehead, which was burning. There's the fever.

"Harry."

Startling green eyes fluttered open.

"I have a potion I need you to take. Then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

"M'kay."

Draco helped him sit up while Harry drank the lavender-colored potion, then helped him lie back down on his pillow.

"Hurts, Draco," Harry mumbled.

"I know, Harry. I'm going to fix it, I promise." Draco brushed his fingers over Harry's forehead again, moving a few stray inky black locks of hair off of his face. Harry leaned into Draco's hand, sighing softly as he drifted off again, his ragged breaths slowing.

"You're going to be okay, Harry. You have to be okay." Draco sank to his knees beside the bed, a choked sob escaping his lips.

"You're in love with him."

Draco started, turning to look at Dottie. He hadn't even heard her come in.

He scrunched up his face, fighting to reign in his emotions. After a long moment, he gave up and nodded, pressing his lips together as tears threatened to fall.

"How long?"

"Forever," Draco whispered, his voice catching. "Since we were kids."

"I didn't even know who he was when we met. I didn't know what I was feeling. I just knew that I... I wanted to be near him. I wanted to impress him."

He choked out a laugh. "I was a stuck up prat, though— I was jealous and scared. I alienated him and we ended up enemies instead. But now things are different, and I had hoped that maybe we could at least be friends, if he..."

His voice trailed off as he glanced up at Harry, the sight of his pale, sickly face sending a shudder through the blond. He can't die. Please let this potion work. It has to work.

Dottie knelt beside him and pulled him into a hug. "Well, then save him. And then go get him."

Draco laugh-sobbed against her shoulder. "No. It's a pathetic fantasy, Hewitt. Harry Potter would never want me."

"Oh, come on, Draco," she sputtered, breaking the professional code at St. Mungo's for a moment to use his first name, "haven't you been paying attention at all? He managed to ask you out on a date while under the influence of a Love Potion. Do you know how ridiculously impossible that is? Trust me, he may not be in love yet, but he definitely likes you."