Blind - drarry

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Published: December 1, 2020

Updated: September 30, 2021

It took over two weeks for Draco to feel strong enough to crawl out of the hole and limp up the sloped step. Murtagh was not happy that he didn't stay longer, but he needed air. His back and right shoulder were aching too much from the cement floor., He also couldn't put weight on his broken ribs. Potter's healing potion couldn't fix that. It required a wand. Plus, his knee was still weak from being kicked out. He just didn't have the strength to get to Diagon Alley.

However, he didn't want Potter to find him either, so he went further into Knockturn and sat against the wall of the gruel shop he occasionally went to. He got a new cup from Murtagh but, annoyingly, it didn't clink the same. The owner, a usually callous witch, came out and gave him a bowl of slop.

"'Aven't seen you in a bit. I heard what happened, love. Don't you worry about the cost, 'ither. You're a good, polite lad," she said, patting his head.

"Thank you," he whispered, and she went back inside. It wasn't the best stew, as it was made of leftover bits, but food was food.

It was noon when two sickles dropped into his cup, and he tightened up and lowered his head and his cup. Harry had found him. Draco almost started crying as Harry sat in front of him.

Harry's fingers gently touched his bruised face. "Shh... it's okay. I'm so sorry, but I got him, though. He's locked up for ten years. Turns out he had a few warrants already on him, plus attacking an Auror," Potter said quietly, as he assessed his injuries with a few spells.

Draco nodded, unsure of what to say, but he wanted to cry, again.

"Are you in pain?" Harry asked.

He shook his head, quickly. Too quickly.

"I don't believe you. I can mend you," Harry said, and it sounded like he was getting out his wand to cast some spells.

"No, you can't. The muggles will notice." Murtagh would definitely notice. He checked his injuries every night.

Harry sighed. "A little?"

"No," he said. I deserve the pain, he thought caustically.

"Wyvern..." Harry started, but thought the better of it. "You tried to tell before. That you might get attacked... if I gave too much. I'm sorry."

Selfless idiot. He couldn't have Potter blaming himself and lied, "I was attacked in Knockturn. He was just looking for anyone."

"Still... I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have prevented it."

"I could've walked you home. I could've found you a safe place. That... umm... spot isn't fit to live in," Harry said, quietly.

Draco blushed. He hated Potter knowing where he was staying. "Where did you think I was staying? Before I found that place, I slept in an alley next to the rubbish bins. You don't have to worry about me, Constable. I can take care of myself."

"That doesn't mean that you can't accept help."

"You would never accept help," he shot back. He didn't like being so weak.

"Yes, I would, and I have, Wyvern. My friends kept me alive when I was younger. They sent me food as my aunt and uncle starved me. They helped me take down Voldemort, too."

Draco still didn't like the name. "I remember that you killed him alone. You were unbelievable."

"I didn't kill him. He killed himself. I had a wand that wasn't mine, and I wouldn't have gotten there without help from many people, including four Death Eaters. Two of them died for it, and the other two went to prison for it. And I couldn't save any of them, but they all saved me nonetheless."