Stay With Me

Chapter 10

The waiting was excruciating. One moment every second was flashing before his eyes, the apparition to St Mungo's, the pleading for help and the rush of medics swarming around him as Draco laid crumpled in his arms on the hospital floor, the flood of questions that blurred into a pounding of noise.

Then Draco was gone. Whisked away whilst Harry stayed behind pacing the corridor, then crashing onto the uncomfortable wooden chairs, then pacing again whilst hearing the repetitive droll of 'please be patient, Mr Potter', 'We will bring you an update as soon as we have one', 'Our healers are doing everything in their power."

Added to that were the subtle looks he would catch from passing healers, questioning why Harry Potter of all people was in such a state over a former death eater. He simply glared back and muttered curses under his breath at their ignorance.

He didn't know what was worse, the silence or the noise. Not that it even mattered, both of them were unbearable.

He slumped, head in his hands, bent over in the chair, the pain in his head was throbbing and the flickering hospital lamps and continuous whirlwind of chatter wasn't aiding him in the slightest.

It felt like a lifetime as he waited and in some ways, it was worse than the other tragedies he'd witnessed. Sirius had slipped away from him in a heartbeat before he could even comprehend what was happening, the same with Cedric, murdered at the flick of a wand. It was a horror to witness, of course, but still closure nonetheless.

Not knowing was horrid. The vision of Draco slumped in his arms replayed through his mind like a tape stuck on loop. The endless blood, the lifeless body, the cries for help.

He rubbed both palms over his face harshly, trying to rid himself of the tension that clung onto him. His throat was sore and his sinuses felt blocked from the depth of sobbing he'd done, he'd pulled himself together now but his eyes still stung and remained red and puffy.

The sudden sound of an apparation crack from around the corner caught his attention, breaking through the mundane stillness.

"Harry!"

Hermione appeared at the end of the corridor and hurried toward him, crashing into him in a desperate hug. Ron followed close behind, his face knitted with worry. He didn't question how they'd found out, but assumed the portrait on the stairwell of his house had heard Harry's cries and alerted them at their residence.

All the hard work of holding himself together unravelled as soon as his friends appeared and an overwhelming wave of emotion threatened to break him again as Hermione pulled away and held him at arm's length.

"We came as soon as we heard, is he... is he alright?" she whispered the last question.

Harry tried to speak but getting words out past his tight chest felt impossible, "I... I don't know. They won't tell me anything."

Ron's mouth was pressed in a thin line, his brows furrowed, breathing a little harder from the rush to get to the hospital. Harry met his gaze, wanting to hug him for coming to his side but also wanting to shove him against the wall for being so silent on the obvious bashing of Draco that had happened merely hours ago.

Hermione guided Harry onto the chairs, placing a comforting hand on his knee, "Was it..? Did he..?"

Harry remained silent. Staring down at the floor still in shock. His lips kept parting to speak but he couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud. They all knew what had happened.

"Did he see the article?" Ron asked, his voice low and defeated

Harry dragged his gaze from the floor, stony-faced and nodded. Ron exhaled the breath he'd been holding in whilst Hermione placed a hand over her mouth, on the verge of tears.