just an online crush - 𝔻ℝ𝔸ℝℝ𝕐

sixteen

Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom

Draco's hands trembled as he quickly exited the chat. He didn't want to know what Harry said next, he dropped his phone on the bathroom floor and started to panic and hyperventilate.

He didn't want Harry to see him in such a physical nor mental state, it was pathetic. His phone vibrated several times, he didn't even know what was happening. The world felt like it was slowing down, it felt so surreal.

His heart was beating so fast, it was about to beat out of his chest. He didn't know how much time had passed, nor what was happening around him. The ringing in his ears was muffling all noise, and the last thing he saw was Myrtle's concerned face mouthing something.

Charms Classroom

Harry was pretty annoyed with Prince getting randomly upset with him for 'intruded on someone's fucking privacy'.

"And I thought I was starting to like him, he's such an asshole. Why did I even entrusted him with that, anyway?", Harry thought to himself as he sighed and ruffled his hair. "I'll just do this myself."

Harry raised his hand, "Professor Flitwick, sorry for interrupting your lesson. I am feeling slightly unwell, may I visit the Hospital Wing?"

"Ah, mister Potter, of course! You are excused.", Professor Flitwick nodded.

"Harry, what are you doing?", Ron whisper-shouted, but Harry just looked at Ron and walked away and out of the classroom.

Hermione answered on his behalf. "Probably checking up on Draco!", she smiled. "But then again, he doesn't know Slytherin's password."

"He'll figure,", Ron responded. "Maybe."

Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom

"Oh no, oh no, not again. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad. Draco? Are you alright, Draco?", Myrtle tried to wake him up by waving her translucent hands in front of his face. Draco's spell on his face wore off.

It has been a long time since he first came to the Moaning Myrtle Bathroom. She first handedly witness his rants turned to complains, which turned to whines which then turned to cries and cuts. This wasn't the first time he passed out.

So Myrtle did the only thing that she decided she could do, guard the entrance of the bathroom to keep people away. Rarely anyone would enter, but she wanted to make sure. Draco would have wanted that.

At the very same time, Myrtle heard a loud panting from outside. She sped out to the entrance and was ready to scare any and everyone away... But then she recognised that red tie, those circular glasses and emerald green eyes.

It was Harry Potter, the same person who saw Draco at his lowest point earlier that morning.

Given that he already saw Draco in that state, Myrtle assumed that it was alright for Harry to enter the bathroom to help Draco. She felt relieved.

Harry quickly went up to Draco's body slumped up against one of the bathroom walls. He didn't know what to do at first, seeing the cuts and obvious scars on his arm, but he rolled Draco's sleeves back down and picked him up from the floor.

Surprisingly, he wasn't as heavy as Harry was expecting. Harry started running to the Hospital Wing on the other corner of the school.

Hospital Wing

Madame Pomfrey was humming as she did her own things, minding her own business when the hospital wing opened with a loud bang from a huge impact which was Harry shoving his shoulder against the door.

Madame Pomfrey flinched for a moment, but got into action upon seeing Draco unconscious. She set her things down immediately and with a wave of her wand, Draco floated from Harry's arms to the nearest bed.

She went to Draco and checked him. His face was unbelievably pale, eye bags were extremely dark and his eyes were swollen from crying.

"His- His arm, too! The place with the dark-", Harry stammered, looking for his words.

But before Harry could continue, Madame Pomfrey pulled Draco's sleeve up in a single pull. Thus revealing the entirety of his Dark Mark. Or rather, what was left of the Dark Mark.

"But... How did you know?", Harry asked.

"It's not the first time he came here for this.", she looked over at Draco with eyes filled with sorrow.