"Can I help you, Potter?"

Marks of Heroism, Marks of Cowardice

It was drawing an hour.

The crowd had dispersed after their interest had died down. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were the only ones around the bed, besides Harry. McGonagall had collected a few statements and a few memories for the pensieve later on, before coming back. She'd said she'd gotten Neville, Hannah and Susan's memories, as well as a few of Tansy's friends. Apparently, she had not wished to take Tansy's, though she hadn't said why. She'd held back on Draco's also, seeing as all it'd be was the scene before hand, then blinding pain from the curse that'd be associated with the memory, which couldn't be avoided - despite of whomever viewed the memory.

Hermione and Ron had gone to class, Hermione had tried to persuade Harry to join them, but he'd argued otherwise. Something in him said he needed to be there when Draco woke up.

"Minerva, it's three minutes until I have to call St Mungo's. There's a law for it, you know." Madam Pomfrey mumbled in attempts to not be heard by Harry. Her face depicted her worry and unease. "A cruciatus curse is a serious thing too. There's a reason it's illegal, there's a reason it's called an 'unforgivable curse'." She continued.

"Poppy, please calm down. I know very well of the laws that come into this matter, but I-... Perhaps we should speak in your office." McGonagall stopped, glancing at Harry. The two made their way around the curtain and across the infirmary.

Unfortunately, Draco was still as close to white as the sheets of the bed.

Madam Pomfrey had sat him up to make him more comfortable, but he still resembled a rag doll which had been cast aside. At one point, Harry had considered removing his shoes for him, but then he'd heard Draco's voice in his head telling him to keep his hands off of them and that they were more expensive than anything Harry was likely to own in his entire life.

Harry looked around, before sliding his hand into Draco's and giving it a gentle squeeze.
His skin was cold to touch, and his long, elegant fingers were lifeless. Taking his hand in both of his own in an attempt to warm them, Harry leant forward.

"Draco, i-if you can hear me, I'd really like you to wake up." Harry murmured, his voice soft. "I hate to admit it, but I've grown quite attached to you over the past few weeks. Actually, if I'm honest I, er, I've grown very attached to you. I mean, I wouldn't have thought it, but you're a really great guy, really." He couldn't help but break into a small grin, his eyes focused on the sheets in front of him. "I really like you, Draco. I-... Yeah. Basically." The blood was burning in his cheeks, despite him talking more to himself than anyone else. At least, that's what he thought; until, he met silver, tear-filled eyes.

Draco looked absolutely heartbroken and Harry hadn't a clue why.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were awake." Harry quickly apologised, blushing an even deeper red.

He wasn't aware that he'd still been holding Draco's hand, until he retracted it, his tears overflowing. Draco shut his eyes tightly turning away from Harry, his shoulders shaking in silent sobs.

"Draco, what's wr-..." Harry started, but was cut off by McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey rushing in. Madam Pomfrey immediately went to give him some pain-soother spells, whilst firing many questions about what he remembered and what he was feeling.

"Harry, I think you'd better go to class." McGonagall's words sounded more like advice, but her tone implied Harry didn't exactly have an input. He stood up, stealing a final glance at Draco, before solemnly leaving the infirmary.

---

It wasn't until a few minutes past nightfall before Draco returned to the common room. He didn't talk to anyone, just walked straight past to the dorm. Despite only catching a glimpse of his face, Harry could see his eyes were still red and his cheeks tear-strewn.