Chapter four: Greetings
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
(This is a revised version of my past and unfinished story Desecrated , this one will be updated and hopefully finished. )
(it comes in three Pov. Draco's and Harry's and Remus's, they are easy to tell who is who, so I'm not gonna tell you.)
He stared at the rising and falling chest, wondering what he would do if it stopped. Sometimes he thought it did, and those seconds stretched forever on until it gave a little hitch and rose again. That panic that clamped over his chest while he willed the chest to move made him think. What would he do, really, if he lost Harry?
Remus shoved the hair away from his face with a drunken hand, ignoring the tears that tingled the backs of his eyes. It was dark in the hospital wing and no one knew that he was there, except perhaps Malfoy who was sitting up, staring out the window, a few beds down.
He desperately wanted to grab the shoulders before him and shake them till lids opened and he got to see those forests that were Harry's eyes again. Remus breathed in and out, reminding himself that he wasn't crazy just drunk. His hands clenched in his lap, restraining himself.
What had happened? How long ago? Why? He wanted to ask but couldn't, his tongue thick with pain and scotch.
Why hadn't anyone told him?
The bandages on Harry's forehead were thick and white and he didn't know why they were there. There was something wrong with that, something entirely too unjust to just sit and ignore. Remus reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask.
The sound of the liquid brought Malfoy's gaze to him.
"If you're wondering he came in a few hours ago."
Oh gods, Remus buried his face into the sheets of Harry's bed. Flashes cascaded across his mind of Draco and blood and a heart breaking voice; manicured nails and a bed and a corpse.
"Snape carried him in, said he appeared to have fallen down the stairs."
A laugh drifted over to him, hollow and bitter.
"The Boy-Who–Lived almost died because he fell down the stairs."
Remus hissed, jerking his head up and glaring at Malfoy.
"Don't say that! Don't! Don't say he almost died, he didn't! He'll be fine in a day or so!" the lies fell into the room and he could almost see them, staring at him in shock because of his need to believe them.
Malfoy moved forward turning towards him, "what would you do Lupin, if he died? What would you do?"
More laughter.
"Drink?"
Ashamed, Remus stared down at his hands noticing the flask was still clutched in one fist. Knowing the answer almost made him hate himself. He threw the flask away, listening as it clanked and clattered against the floor. The second it left his hand he wanted it back.
"I was going to thank you for helping me, but I shall wait till you are sober." Malfoy said and sunk down into his bed and turned his back.
The sun was what ultimately woke him up. The annoying talking and shuffling and clunking of bottle's he was able to ignore but the second the light hit his eyes, consciousness slammed into him unpleasantly. He had tried to roll over only to find that very painful. He reached a weighted arm up and touched his forehead to feel cotton wrappings. He was reminded of cold running along his lips and he licked them, expecting the taste of blood.
He had fallen down the stairs on the way to detention.
A groan forced its way past his throat and he squeezed his eyes tightly, embarrassed.
"You're awake."
Harry cracked an eye open to see Malfoy leaning over him, his long pale blonde hair creating a curtain around his face. Pain stabbed into his skull through his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Unfortunately." He grumbled; then flushed, embarrassed to complain of such simple pain in front of the boy who he had watched scream with horrible pain only a few days ago.
Yet again flashes of what he had seen came to him and his feet burned with the reminder of the blood that had curled its way between his toes. Nauseas boiled inside his stomach and he jolted up. Malfoy must have been prepared because he shoved Harry's head into a bucket before he could blow chunks all over the both of their laps.
"You have a concussion and a cracked skull, also you managed to sprain your wrist, terrify a student enough to faint and scare the wits out of Professor Snape; I applaud your ability to create as much havoc unconscious as awake."
Harry's rather dignified response was a grunt and a shrug along with an elegant collapse back onto the pillows.
Harry could still feel the presence of a hovering Malfoy and blushed under the scrutiny.
"Is there something on my face?" he snapped, but it held no true emotion. The thought of being angry at Malfoy, Draco, drew no pleasure as it used to; now it made him guilty for having such vile thoughts towards one who had suffered so much.
"Actually," Malfoy said tilting his chin up haughtily, "there is some puke on your chin."
Even though his comment was said in a snotty attitude Harry felt him reach over and gently wipe his chin clean.
"Thanks…" he mumbled. Feeling his headache start to recede he pushed himself up to a sitting position and opened his eyes, looking around. He was shocked to see Remus slumped over in a chair beside the bed, passed out.
Malfoy saw him staring and his eyes softened, "you really scared him, you should apologize when he awakens." His tone was gentle and careful, not something Harry had ever heard from Malfoy before and he blinked at him in shock.
The stench of the bucket drifted over to him and he wrinkled his nose in distaste, "why hasn't the garbage been vanished?" he asked. Everything in the hospital wing was spell bound, from the self closing blinds, to the sleep spell on every pillow.
Malfoy's eyes became downcast and he moved off the bed and gently moved to sit on the bed beside them, "my magic has reacted violently to every spell within 30 feet of me, so the whole Wing had to be un-charmed."
Harry averted his eyes and shuddered. To be that deeply wounded that your magic is still on panic mode… even his dreams didn't show such horrors.
"Oh"
"Yes," Malfoy said, standing up and walking slowly towards a chair in front of the window, "oh. The rest of the golden trio should be coming by soon, classes ended five minutes ago." He said, the end of the conversation apparent in his tone.