A Royal Arrangement (Drarry) ✓

Chapter 12

Red. All Draco saw was red. Ron's arms was coated in a slick of red, the chunk of fabric over Harry's body was soaked through. His body was wheeled so quick into the emergency room. Draco's world seemed to spin while he ran alongside the other healers, yelling instructions that flew over his head.

Draco had heard the sound of flatlining a dozen times, but it was never quite as deafening as he remembered. Never quite as deafening as now.

Without hesitation, Draco starts doing compressions. Healers were rushing in and out, placing more tubes and hooking him up to more monitors. Draco doesn't stop, keeping his steady pace of compressions. After every 30 of them, he blows air into Harry's lungs, ignoring the coppery tang left on his lips.

Somewhere in between, someone must've cut open Harry's shirt, leaving the jarring gash across his torso in the open. The veins surrounding the wound was dark green, indicating some kind of poison. Draco's vision was blurry at the edges, giving him tunnel vision at Harry's injury, and his injury only. The sets of compressions go by in his head slower than he imagines them to be, his arms starting to hurt. Under his palms, he feels Harry's cracked ribs, the edges rubbing against each other with each firm press downwards, but there was no other choice if he wanted Harry alive.

Suddenly, as if it were magic, Harry starts to cough up more blood. Draco almost screams out of relief, but chooses to sigh instead, grasping onto one of Harry's bloody hands as tight his numb hands could. He registers a couple words the nurse was saying, 'casualty' and 'heartbeat' and '18 rounds'... but it takes a rough shake on the shoulder for Draco to snap back to his senses.

"You did well." Severus said, his expression cold as always. A compliment from him, however, was unheard of. "Administer the cure for the poison now. A sample of his blood is on the microscope already." Draco takes a few deep breaths, nodding.

After confirming and confirming again the type of poison, he fills a needle with the precise amount of potion before inserting it into Harry's vein. Draco's heart hurt to see him like this, unconscious and arms swollen due to the number of needles poking and prodding into his skin. Severus was already halfway through stitching, while another healer was trying to apply more healing potions to clean the wound and minimise the amount of tissue damage.

It could've been days, or mere minutes. Draco couldn't tell anymore. Half of the time he felt useless, and the other half he spent monitoring Harry's condition, fumbling over more healing potions and just checking again that everything was going fine. The healers fixed up Harry's broken ribs, Severus was pretty much done with his job, so Draco let them move on to the next patient while he tied up the loose ends.

Carefully, he removed the rest of Harry's clothes, cleaning up all the blood and grime. He packed all the soiled sheets and cloths into a big wastebasket, then worked on rubbing a salve over Harry's stitches. It takes almost an hour to get Harry cleaned, bandaged and clothed.

Draco would much rather spending the time quietly holding Harry's hand, just the two of them alone, but he knows that that'll be unfair for their friends and family. He updated Harry's medical records, made sure everything for Harry was prim and proper for the last time, then opened the door.

***

Ron was mumbling long lines of Merlin-knows-what, the only words hermione could hear was 'it's my fault' and 'I'm sorry'. Hermione pushes him to the bathroom to shower, but he could still see blood- Harry's blood- on his hands. His mother had caught the first train over (normally only used to carry goods), along with Sirius and Remus, anxiously waiting outside the doors. George had a piece of his ear sliced off as well, but was declared in stable condition 3 hours ago.