an unbroken force

Five

        Midnight strikes with strings of lightning across the sky. It must have been raining for some time now, as the windows appear hit with drops of the sky's tears. I wake up, cursing to myself, as I evidently did not drink enough of the Sleeping Draught that Madam Pomfrey gave me. I glare at the ceiling, blinking fast, hoping that I can fall back asleep. But, as Snape and Madam Pomfrey predicted, my heart begins to race due to the wearing off of the Calming Draught. I think about what happened earlier today- what happened yesterday? Technically, it's tomorrow. So it's today. Anyway, vivid images of what happened earlier play back in my mind. Especially the last moment- where death likely almost would've paid me a visit had Snape not been there. Had no one seen what happened. I feel tears silently fall down my face, stinging my cheeks which were dried and a little bit burnt from earlier. I don't even make any noise, I just cry. It's almost as if I'm mimicking the rain pouring down onto the windows. For the first time, I admittedly feel weakness. I understand that everything's gone downhill in the span of a few hours, but I find myself going for the extremities. I look up, into the dark clouds of the night, which conceal the typically bright moon.

-

        "I can't do this," I whisper as if I'm speaking to whatever higher power lies in the mysterious clouds above me.

        "Do what?" a voice whispers back accordingly and I can't help but gasp. I cover my hand over my mouth and finally sit up. Any figures that happen to poke through the near pitch-black room are, at first, completely blurry to me. I become increasingly light-headed, as I haven't eaten or sat up in what feels like hours. "Come on, don't be shy now."

        When I can finally focus, I see someone sitting down in a chair adjacent to the vacant hospital bed across from me. Nothing too obvious catches my eye until I see that familiar, painfully white head of hair poking out of the darkness.

        "Malfoy, you son of a-"

        "Oh, shut it," he replies, coldly.

        I gasp, almost offended at his words. Then, I remember that he was the reason I'm here. "You don't tell me to shut it, you-you slug-eating rodent. You did this to me- you could've killed me. In fact- oh you know what-"

        I attempt to get up out of the bed. Then, like a complete idiot, I remember at a very inconvenient time that I drank a Calming Draught, which makes you incredibly dizzy. Not to mention I can't walk let alone attack someone with only one functioning ankle. Draco anticipates this and quickly gets up to catch me.

        "Again, Francis," he sighs, holding me up by my underarms. He observes me and my condition. I almost see a glimpse of guilt in his glistening blue-grey eyes. "I see how intelligent you are in classrooms, but you really are thick outside of them."

        My hands begin to tremble again, and I suddenly can't handle Draco touching me. He's really traumatised me; hilarious. My ribs cave in on my lungs and I become unable to control my breath. I hate this feeling more than anything at the moment.

        "Let me go, Draco," I demand, in a shaky voice. I'm cautious to keep my voice down, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to maintain it. "Y-you just tried to kill me- how dare you try to help me now. Seriously, get off of me."

        I push and pull and tug at his hands, shirt, anything that could try to get him to let go, but he doesn't move. "And let you fall on the cold floor just to further injure yourself?" he questions me, refusing to acknowledge my accusation of attempted murder.

        I look at him, into his eyes, unknowingly withdrawing his thoughts and emotions temporarily from his brain. He doesn't mean harm. He wants to help me. He's not trying to use foul play. I feel that Draco, for the first time in his entire life, is upset with himself. I'm so astonishingly confused at this moment that I let him help me. I can't help but consider providing him with the benefit of the doubt for a minute.