A Twist of Fate

Chapter 15: Sectumsempra

This was Harry's chance! What he had been waiting for! He stalked Malfoy down the corridors, watching him go into the bathroom. He had been following him for quite a while now, but his heart hammered against his chest now that he was in the moment. He pushed away his thoughts and slipped into the bathroom.

An awful sobbing met his ears, and it didn't take long for Harry to put two and two together, especially when he saw the boy right in front of him, bent over a sink.

"Malfoy?" he whispered under his breath. The sobbing stopped abruptly, and Harry was met with a tear-soaked face. Malfoy's eyes were red with tears, his face wet and his expression shocked.

"What are you doing here?!" he exclaimed, a horrified look melding with the surprise.

"I-" Harry stuttered.

Malfoy fumbled in his pockets, his hands shaking, and pulled out his wand. "Stupefy!" he yelled. A red beam narrowly missed Harry's left ear as he ducked behind the bathroom stalls, his wand in his hand instinctively. Harry searched for Malfoy in between the cracks visible in the stalls. A pale grey eye met his, and Harry saw another crimson jet aimed for him. He dodged it, firing back another spell. "Expelliarmus!"

"You need to brush up on your skills, Potter." Malfoy sneered. "Those kinds of spells are weak! Stupefy!"

Harry swerved to the side.

"Then face me like a man if you're so sure!" he fired back, dashing into back to the open near the sinks. A second of silence, and then Malfoy stormed to the other side.

"Fine then." He fired a spell swiftly, part of the wall behind Harry crumbled. Harry retaliated, a sink bursting open from behind Malfoy. Back and forth they went, each missing by a hair. Finally, Harry became fed up with it.

"Sectumsempra!" he bellowed, the spell hitting Malfoy directly in the chest. He fell to the ground, and Harry felt triumphant. He slowly approached Malfoy, only to feel a sense of dread sink deep into his stomach like ice. Gashes, both large and small, were appearing on Malfoy. Blood oozed out of each of them, a puddle quickly forming underneath him.

"No..." Harry muttered, falling to his knees. Malfoy stared at him, his eyes wide and fearful. His breaths were short and gagged. Harry could only watch, his mind racing and his body frozen. He caught a brief glance of Snape, who's eyes flicked from Malfoy to Harry and began healing Malfoy's cuts at once. Harry backed away, bumping into the wall and falling onto the wet floor. Snape stood from Draco's body, turning to Harry.

"I'll be taking Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing. Stay here until I get back." And so he held Draco in his arms and rushed out of the bathroom, his cloak swiveling behind him. Harry sat there, his knees tucked into his chest, the ice feeling festering in his stomach had now spread into his chest. What had he done? The spell had said 'For Enemies' but he didn't imagine that it would be that...grotesque. Sectumsempra...

Harry leaned back in his armchair. The events of that day had stressed him out to the point of exhaustion. He told himself that he would visit Draco that following day, just to make sure he was okay. He had already overheard that matron and Snape conversing, and it sounded like he would make a full recovery. But that didn't mean that Harry had gotten off scot-free. Detentions for every Saturday until the end of the term, as Snape had assigned. Meaning he would also have to miss the next Quidditch match. Harry ran his hand through his hair. What was he going to do?

"Harry!" Hermione sat in the chair next to him. Harry looked up at her. "I heard what happened," she said. "It's awful...but I'm sorry to say that I told you so. We need to get rid of that book."

Harry nodded in agreement. That book had brought enough pain with it already.

Silent, broken, and all his fault. Harry sat beside Malfoy, concealed by the curtain that thankfully prevented any onlookers from giving him odd looks. Sure, they were both known to be together, but lately things had seemed the exact opposite. He hoped it would get better. Harry squeezed Draco's hand lightly, scared of hurting him any more than he already had. He also felt guilty, having kissed Ginny Weasely in the Room of Requirement earlier, when he had put the book away - for good. Would Draco hate him? Discriminate him? These feelings swam in Harry, befuddling his mind and excluding any positive thoughts from taking away his nerves.

The next morning, Harry woke up bleakly. A weight had permanently tied itself to Harry, dragging him down and making him a nervous wreck. The nightmares had woken him up earlier that night, but otherwise he had had a fair sleep.

"As much as I enjoy your presence, Potter, this is getting ridiculous."
Harry jumped out of his bed in fright. Luckily, no one else still sleeping seemed to notice. Harry made a note in his head that Ron had already gone down to breakfast. He slipped out of his dorm room, finding somewhere more private to talk. He settled for a corner invisible by the common eye.

"What. The bloody hell. Did you do?" Harry seethed.

"Like I said, this is ridiculous. I'd much rather be with Pansy right now, but here I am with you. Again." Draco sighed.
Harry bit his lip. "Pansy?"

"Parkinson. We're uh, a thing now, you could say."

"Oh."

The quiet disturbed the boys, one curled in a corner, the other wrapped up in the contents of the others mind. Harry finally got the courage to speak up.

"So I guess that means we're over?"

"That's a harsh way of putting it...but I suppose so. I heard a rumour in my travels to your brain that you and Ginny Weasely were all caught up in each other's faces."

Harry cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. That did happen. Sorry, I guess."

"Don't apologize, it gives the enemy a chance to take over. We weren't meant for each other anyway, it was all a fluke." Draco sounded defeated.

"We can still-"

"Be friends? No. Acquaintances, maybe. We will never be friends. It's just how it has to be."

"You're making it that way."

"Enough. You should go before you get weird looks."

Harry stood with a deflated heart, dragging his feet down the staircase and into the halls. The Great Hall, while luminous and heart-warming, had no joyful effect on him like usual. It was like a Dementor had come and robbed him of all his happiness, sucking it dry. He didn't know what he could do, or if it would change anything. But...this could also be another chance to patch up the scars of their previous fights. He scoffed. That's likely, he thought.

Here you go, you scumbags. Joking aside, this story has been neglected...again. I seem to have a talent of pulling this off. So, while I may have a vague idea of what to do next, I'll probably put it off forever. That being said, I would love to keep this story going, so don't think it's just going to suddenly disappear and then you'll die blah blah blah.

Thanks for the support, guys. :)