A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Thirty-Five

Draco's eyes snap open and he gasps. His upper body lifts involuntary into a sitting position, and he only has a spare second to inhale deeply and look around the darkness of his enclosed bed before his entire body twists in pain.

He convulses, twisting and folding, getting tangled in the sheets and he realizes it's hot. His skin feels as if it's on fire and his lungs feel like sand and every time he takes a breath it scratches irritably in his throat.

His hands reach up to scrape against his throat, his nails leave blunt lines on his pale skin and he cramps backward, half of his body hanging off the side of the bed.

But despite the raging inferno inside him, he feels almost...empty. His entire body is burning but he senses a chilling loneliness in him, and he tries to stand to scream for help but all that does is make him stumble to the floor.

He stops scratching at his neck and instead thinks, the floor is cold, I need cold. So he starts pulling at the buttons in his silken pajamas, harshly popping them off the threading and his hands paw at his chest. He turns his head sideways, towards the window, sees the moon in it's fullness, and howls as another wave of searing heat crashes over him.

"Draco?" Blaise sits up in his bed, but jumps when he hears the sounds coming from across the hallway.

He doesn't waste time running out of his room and into his best friend's, and he instantly feels the pit of his stomach revolt in fear.

"Draco?"

"I...need..." Draco's voice is extraterrestrial, strained and unfamiliar, and his mouth falls open in a silent scream as he twists unnaturally. "I...need..."

"What do you need," Blaise asks urgently, coming closer and reaching out to touch his shoulder. "What do I do?"

Blaise flinches back when Draco's hand clamps over his and turns to face him, the entirety of his eyes glowing white. Blaise screams and tries to get out of his hold, tugging desperately at his arm when Draco starts illuminating silver.

Draco's skin is hot and sweaty and with a few more hasty tugs, his wrist falls free and Blaise runs out of the room.

*******

"Potter, open up!"

Blaise growls in frustration and pounds his fists repeatedly over the Gryffindor Hall door.

"Potter!"

"Blaise," a groggy, familiar voice muffles behind the door. A moment after the door is pulled to reveal Ron, with his striped pajama top unbuttoned and his welt-and-freckle-covered torso winking at him. "What are you on about, it's half past three, love."

"I need Harry, Ron," Blaise says desperately, clinging onto the open lapels of Ron's sleeping shirt. "Draco is screaming and in pain or I don't know. He attacked me when I went to touch him, he wouldn't let me go. I don't know what's wrong with him."

Ron looks visibly more awake and he gently takes Blaise's wrists and nods, his eyebrows furrowed as he listens intently. "Alright, relax, take a breather."

Blaise shakes his head. "No, you don't understand, Draco needs Harry, he needs..."

Just then, Blaise is interrupted by a vicious howl of pain, and then a moment after, Draco's very recognizable scream. He turns to look at Ron with wide eyes.

"Alright," Ron nods quickly. "Let's go get Harry."

He pulls the Slytherin up the coiled staircase in haste, not stopping one bit as they reach the door that has Potter, Finnigan & Weasley on a golden plaque. He pushes it open and lets it slam on the wall, but Blaise doesn't get to cross the threshold because Ron stops in his steps and tightens his hold on Blaise's wrist.