Irresistible Poison DRARRY

Irresistible Poison - Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: The Edge of Reason

But love can hope where reason would despair.

Ironically enough, it was the soft sound of a door clicking shut that sent Draco's mind back into the realm of consciousness; the oblivion of darkness scattered as rays of wakefulness streamed back like silver light behind his closed lids. A dull pain in his temples was all that remained of the sharp agony he remembered just before everything had gone black— and Draco could still feel the memory of falling, plunging through an endless expanse, gripped by nothing but fear...

A quiet rustle jolted him out of the chilling memory and back into reality. There was someone in the room with him. Draco kept his eyes closed, not moving a muscle, his ears keen as he heard soft footsteps pacing near him, drawing closer; footsteps echoing in the warmth of silence, weighted with careful confidence yet tentatively hesitant, and completely unmistakable.

Harry's footsteps, of course.

Draco didn't need to open his eyes to know that Harry was standing barely a few feet away from him. He could sense Harry's presence near him, could feel the exciting tension that laced the air between them. It was an exhilaratingly painful sensation, one that made him feel like reaching over to touch Harry; at the same time it made him want to just fall back into the empty nothingness that he had emerged from, so that Harry would go away and not be there when he woke again.

Even as his confused stupor faded, the fragile remembrance still clung to the fringes of his mind in a surreal vision of reality. Draco couldn't be sure that it wasn't just a figment of his delirious mind-moments, just before he had lost consciousness; but he remembered opening his eyes, and the first person he had seen was Harry. And Harry had been leaning over him, and holding his hand; he had seen Harry's lips move, whispering silent words, words that felt tender and pure and so comforting, words that said that everything would be all right.

But he knew better, Draco thought bitterly. Everything would never be all right. It must have been a dream. Just another dream.

The last vestiges of pain in his body ebbed away; Draco vaguely wondered how far he had fallen, and how badly he had been hurt. He would have very much liked to sit up and inspect his bruises, if not for the fact that he seemed frozen in a waking coma simply because Harry was standing next to him. Yes, Harry was standing right next to him, somewhere directly to his left— he could feel it.

Just then the door opened again, and Draco heard the sound of Madam Pomfrey bustling into the room, accompanied by the tinny clattering of a tray being set down on the bedside table, presumably carrying his medicine. Draco realised that he was feeling rather hungry.

"Potter, you should be lying down," Draco heard Madam Pomfrey chiding, confirming what he had known all along. "I just fixed your ankle, and you shouldn't be walking all over the place..."

"Is he all right?" Harry's voice spoke up quietly, underscored with concern. Draco's heart did a funny little skip— actually, it felt more like a feather being dropped in a vacuum. It was a dense fluttery feeling, which didn't feel very right but felt pleasant all the same.

"He'll be fine," came Madam Pomfrey's curt reply, "no broken bones or cracked ribs, just a little shaken up. The fall looked a lot worse than it really was, frankly."

"But he got badly scratched when he crashed into the bushes..." Harry's soft interjection was still doubtful, and quietly anxious.

"I cleaned them up, most of them were just surface injuries." Madam Pomfrey sounded impatient, and she repeated, "He'll be fine, in fact he should be awake anytime now. The Nurture Spell has a mild tranquillising effect, but that should wear off soon. Nothing to worry about. Now I want you to go back outside, and sit down in the waiting room for another good fifteen minutes. If you feel well enough by then, you can go back to your dormitory. Now shoo, Potter, out with you."