iris | drarry

chapter 24

"I won't allow you to dangle my father over me just for me to hurt him. I won't do it anymore. I love him. So I suggest you back the fuck off before I hurt you instead."

The words swam around in Harry's foggy head as he fell in and out of consciousness the rest of the day, opening his eyes every once and a while to see many different people. Hermione and Ron were there at one point, Hermione with tears running down her face, Ron looking like he was about to cry himself.

Luna and Neville stopped by, Harry having a vague memory of Neville apologizing, telling Harry he wished he'd noticed, that he'd helped. 

It's too late, Harry thought. I can't be helped. 

McGonagall and some of his other professors lingered around, talking in hushed voices, worried glances being thrown his way. Nurses would come by a lot, poking and prodding at him before he passed out again. 

When he slept, he dreamt of bliss, of sweet escape.

Then there was Draco. The male had been seated on a stool by Harry's bedside the whole day, every time Harry opened his eyes he saw his blonde tuft of hair, his grey eyes. Harry became aware of Draco's hand holding his own within a couple of hours, but did nothing to pull away. It was nice to have a tether to the living world, to have someone steadying him. 

He loved him? Draco? Loved him? Harry? Harry Potter? It couldn't have been true. He must have been lying, must be some part of his plan. He didn't care about Harry.

See if I care. 

The memory of Draco's words earlier that day overtook the memory of his love, causing Harry to whimper slightly, his eyes closing tightly. He heard a voice from beside him, calling his name, asking if he was okay.

No. He wasn't.

He didn't honestly know if he ever would be again. He didn't feel... real. He felt like a fake person in a fake body living in a real world. 

Harry's eyes flickered open, being met with grey ones filled with worry. 

"Harry? Harry are you here?" 

Draco's mouth was moving, his words delayed slightly from his lips as Harry took in the words. He nodded a bit before coughing dryly, a soft groan coming from him. Draco was moving, then, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands going to Harry's face-

Harry flinched away instinctively, looking away from the male beside him. He saw Draco's hands drop in the corner of his vision, falling into his lap. 

"I- Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry, Harry..." Draco murmured. "I'm so so sorry- I didn't mean it, I promise, I- I had to... They were going to hurt you.."

Harry's head tilted back towards Draco, their eyes meeting and locking. 

"Real?" Harry managed to croak, clearing his dry throat, his eyes darting around for water. He suddenly felt constricted, his throat feeling like it was closing up, his lungs drying out. 

Then, Draco was there, a cup with a straw in hand, lifting it to Harry's mouth. Harry felt instant relief as he wrapped his lips around the straw and drank the water, breathing heavily. He felt so... weird. He felt like he was still high, but also like he felt the morning after being high all night, but also strangely sober.

The world around him was different, for sure. Things were coming more into focus now, but some parts were fuzzy, still, like people. Except Draco. Draco was crystal clear in his vision, sitting in the foreground of his vision.

One thing that was really distorted, though, was his brain. He was trying to sort through his memories, his thoughts, what were his own thoughts and what was that voice in his head. He didn't know what was real anymore, did Draco hate him? Did he love him? Was he worthy of it? Certainly not.