Harry Potter Imagines

14. Draco Malfoy

I watched him enter the Great Hall. His mind was spinning again, I could tell from his expression, his posture, his careless appearance. His gaze rested on the stone floor, a metre or so in front of his feet. He didn't look up as students bustled around him, occasionally jolting his arms. His robe lay forgotten in his dormitory, I assumed, alongside his arrogant attitude, though that had been missing for a while. His presence wasn't a call for attention, the desperation to be liked wasn't visible in his actions. He stood isolated, pale, camouflaged in the middle of the hall.

He had left the world he was living in only to jolt back into reality when he felt a heavy gaze weigh him down. His head snapped up to stare into the determined gaze of Potter. His face paled, heart thudded and his stoic expression turned to one of worry. His wide eyes flickered between Potter and Katie Bell, a seventh year Gryffindor.

Confusion plagued my mind as Malfoy briskly left the Great Hall. I briefly wondered what he had done this time as Potter raced after him. Curiosity overcame my senses and I followed the two of them at a distance.

However it became apparent that I had followed them at too far a distance when I lost them completely. I walked back through the corridors towards the Great Hall, cursing myself for being such a bad navigator. I dragged my feet across the ground slowly and was lost in self depreciating thoughts until I heard something smash in the corridor to my right. The noise was followed by a spell that ended in another smash. I stood in fear, afraid to enter and afraid to not intervene. Before I could make a detailed list of pros and cons I heard a scream.

Not a gasp or a shriek, but a scream of pain, terror, utter misery. A scream loud and heart wrenching enough to disregard the thought of my own safety and put myself in danger's path.

I ran through a haze of greys and blacks, I ignored how the thuds of my shoes turned to splashes and how the liquid which I ran through became thicker, darker, red. I payed no attention to Potter and his wide regretful eyes or Professor Snape's entrance. I kneeled, overwhelmed, beside Draco's body and performed healing spells which weren't working - WHY WEREN'T THEY WORKING?

His mangled body hovered 2 feet above the ground and Professor Snape led him from the room. I sat in the pools of his blood and stared long after the door had closed. A breath caught in my throat and I choked. I coughed and brought a hand to my chest, it was covered in water. I stood up shakily and walked to the mirror. Tears streaked down my face, I didn't remember crying. I wiped some of the blood off my face with the back of my robe. A sigh escaped my lips, one I didn't know I'd been holding in, and I let my head fall on my chest while I regained my composure. A grey jumper lay next to my feet, surprisingly still dry. My fingers lingered over the material for a moment before I carefully picked it up and folded it over my arm. I did not deter my gaze from the door until I had exited the bathroom.

***

A few days passed. Malfoy did not show up to classes, he wasn't wondering the corridors and his jumper lay neatly folded on top of my dresser. I was afraid to visit him in the hospital wing, the two of us were acquaintances at best. And what if he wasn't healing? What if madam Pomfrey couldn't fix him? What if a white sheet lay over his unmoving body? I stopped a further train of thought by taking a deep breath. I would go and visit him after class on Friday and return his jumper.

On my way to the hospital wing I turned back 8 times before I made it to the foot of his bed. The white curtain was only half pulled around his bed. He was wrapped in bandages below the neck, his fingers seemingly the only part of his body unscarred. A blond lock of hair fell over his closed eye and his lips were parted slightly. My hand swept the hair out of his face and his eyes and nose twitched. I pulled my hand back quickly when I realised what I was doing and placed his jumper on the bedside chair before walking away.

I heard a pathetic cough as my hand touched the door and I looked back to see his eyes open and resting on me.

"Stay"

He said it so quietly that it was almost unheard. If it were not for the pleading in his eyes I might not have understood what he wanted. I made my way back over to his bedside and stared at his peaceful expression. How could one look so angelic when in so much pain? I lifted my arm and hooked my fingers over his gently, not wanting to hurt him and ever so scared of breaking him. His fingers tightened over my own and he lifted his head and brought it closer to my own. His face scrunched up as he readjusted and placed his head back on the pillow.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Whatever for?"

"For helping me, even though I've done horrible things"

I pushed my other hand through his hair, "you're not a horrible person, just one with horrible experiences"

His brow creased, "are you sure?"

I smiled at him, "Positive"