Bond (Drarry)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

November 2 - November 5

Day 35, Monday

They shouldn't have tried to go to class today, Draco thought as he held on to the wall for dear life, his thoughts clouded and slow. They should've gone straight from Gryffindor to the hospital wing. Or maybe back to their quarters.

Why hadn't they?

Because...because Potter had said they had to try. He'd said... something about the hospital being too easy, too much like admitting they were done for.

And why was that bad?

God, he didn't remember any more. The stone beneath his fingers was cool and smooth, and he was arguing with himself, and he didn't even remember what the argument was about.

Going to the hospital was bad because... because they didn't want to give up. Right.

Why couldn't they go back to their quarters instead of Potions class?

Because then they'd want to have sex and then they would pass out and nobody would find them and...

And why was that a bad thing?

Sod it, he didn't know.

He should've fought Potter harder. He shouldn't have let Potter convince him to try to go to class. But he was in Gryffindor territory, surrounded by them, and the others looked dubious but basically wanted their precious Harry to prevail, and he wanted to go to class, and Draco didn't have the strength to fight them all. And besides, he'd thought, maybe they were right and they could do this.

Bad idea, trusting Gryffindors at all, let alone trusting them to be rational where Potter was concerned. They loved him, they believed he could do just about anything. Despite the fact that it had taken Weasley and Longbottom and Thomas about half an hour just to get them out of bed, they wanted to believe that this was just mind over matter and if Harry put his mind to it Harry could do it, because Harry could do anything.

Stupid Gryffindors didn't have a fucking clue that Harry was barely hanging on. They didn't have a bond that let them feel it, and they didn't have the sense God gave even the stupidest Slytherin child. A fucking sense of reality.

And they'd been staring reality in the face for days. Reality was that they could barely function yesterday, that the efforts of the entire Sleep Prevention Squad - as they had, in typical Gryffindor fashion, immediately dubbed themselves - had been insufficient to keep them awake past eight o'clock last night. Reality was that this morning he and Potter were so exhausted they'd barely been able to dress themselves, and Seamus Finnigan had invented some reason why he just had to leave the room while the other three gamely pretended it didn't bother them at all to see him and Potter in bed together bare as the day they were born and too weak to pull the sheets up. If that wasn't reality, he didn't know what was.

He should've fought them harder. Or maybe not fought as hard. Because the fight itself had worn out Potter. And Potter had made it most of the way down the corridor to Potions, but now, with the classroom in sight, he had stopped, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. And Draco had no choice but to stop and wait for him, as the rest of the Gryffindors went ahead into the classroom.

"Potter." Draco pushed off from the wall. "Come on."

Potter shook his head, and his eyes were glazed as he met Draco's, and he started slowly sliding down the wall.

"No, Potter, come on. Stop that!" No answer, just Potter's eyes finally closing as he slumped to the floor. Draco leaned down slightly.

"Damn it, Potter, I can't carry you, I can barely stand up myself. Come on!"