Drarry - Bloody Hell

Did I Really Just Do That

Harry's POV

The next day Ron and I are sitting in the Gryffindor common room, trying to study, when Hermione rushes up to us.

Her face is pale, as though she was spooked. She grabs Ron and my wrists and hurries out of the common room, and into the corridors.

One look at her face and you can see that she's trying not to cry. We storm through the halls, first years scrambling out of our way. When Hermione is on a mission, you don't get in her way.

"What is it 'Mione?" I ask.

"It's Draco," She replies sharply, but doesn't say more.

Ron and I exchange confused glances, but figure that we're going to find out everything in a minute.

We soon arrive at our destination, the Hospital Wing. Duh. Hermione told you something was wrong with Malfoy! Of course you're going to the Hospital Wing!

As soon as we step through the doors, Madame Pomfrey rushes over to us.

"You heard Ms. Granger?" The healer says, and Hermione nods. "Come this way."

We walk over to Malfoy's cage, but something was different. What once was an empty space, only filled by some homework now had a make-shift cot. Atop it is Malfoy, his eyes closed. Blue veins cover his entire body, causing him to look deathly ill.

"Oh my!" Hermione says with a gasp, a hand covering her mouth. "Is he dead?"

"Thankfully not," Madame Pomfrey assures her, "His body has gone into survival mode. He's in a coma, as a last ditch attempt by his body to regain strength. He needs blood, otherwise he will die."

The woman says the last sentence directly at me, and I feel myself blush. Malfoy might die?!

Hermione rounds on me. "Help him!"

"You sound like Parkinson," I mutter, and she slaps me across the face.

"He's my friend too! You will help him!" Hermione growls.

"What on earth is everyone on about?" Ron exclaims above the argument, making us both turn to face him.

"So basically, Malfoy can only drink my blood," I explain, and his eyes widen, "I have no idea why, but apparently that's how it is."

"Wow," Ron says, "That sucks."

"But Harry, here, is going to help Draco!" Hermione declares, staring me down. "Right?"

"I'll think about it," I reply, and Hermione sighs loudly.

"Come on Harry! Draco is dying!" Hermione says, her eyes pleading. "If it were you in a coma, would you want Draco to help you?"

"Well yeah," I answer truthfully, "But that is a totally different situation. I am not Draco Malfoy. The same Malfoy who bullied us for years! Who's now a vampire! I can't just forget that 'Mione!"

"Honestly Harry! Stop being so stubborn!" Hermione yells. before rushing out of my room in distress, a tear dripping down her cheek.

I feel slightly guilty for making her cry, but I just can't get over that fact that it's Malfoy. Why does it need to be my blood anyway? It's always me in weird situations.

"I think shes right, Harry," Ron says softly, and I stare at him, shocked, "I hate Malfoy just as much as you do, but you can't just leave him to die. If you let him die, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You would never forgive yourself, and unlike Cedric, it would be your fault. Think about it that way. You don't want his blood on your hands."

With that, my two best friends have left the Hospital Wing, leaving me alone with Madam Pomfrey, and a choice. I either help Draco, or leave him to die. Maybe Ron's right, I don't want anyone's blood on my hands. And Cedric! Cedric died and it was all my fault! I can't have anyone else die because of me.

I think back to what Hermione said yesterday. Did I really mean what I said? Do I really think that Malfoy is pretty?

I glance over at him sleeping form. He looks almost peaceful. His eyes are closed, and his face is free of worry and fear. His sharp features look just as good as ever. Wait. Did I just think that?

Merlin, I'm so confused.

"Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey interrupts my thoughts, "May I speak with you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"He really needs some help," She says softly, staring into my eyes, "I know that you won't forgive yourself if you let him die, so what are you waiting for?"

"It's- I just- I can't! He- I- he's Malfoy!" I try explain, and the healer shakes her head sadly.

"I can neither confirm nor deny your accusation, but that doesn't seem like a reason to me. That seems like you battling with your pride. It's not that you don't want to help him, because I know that you do, it's that you don't want to let yourself fall so low," Madame Pomfrey reasons, "You don't want to have to help the boy who bullied you and your friends. I get that, but think about it this way, if you let him die, you may never know the real Draco Malfoy. There are always two sides to a story. I also know that you would never forgive yourself for letting him die, because you, Mr. Potter, have a heart. A heart that Mr. Malfoy himself has damaged, but it you let him die out of stubbornness and revenge, then it will make you no better them him."

At first I ignore her, but then I start to see her point. What if there is a different Malfoy? Hermione calls him Draco, and he's her friend. Is there a different between Draco and Malfoy? Maybe he does have a story that I just haven't heard yet? She's also saying the same thing as Ron. I don't want anyone to die because of me. I have to make my choice.

"Maybe you have a point..." I say sheepishly. "Err... how are you planning on giving him my blood? I really don't want him biting me."

"I thought that, because we don't want to overload his body, that we would use a syringe. We would take the blood from you, and inject it into him. At least while he's in a coma. Once out of the coma, I will probably put it in a cup," Madam Pomfrey explains, "Once he's out of the coma, we will up the dose he's given. If we end up taking large amounts of blood from you, we will use blood replenishing potions. Okay?"

I bite my lip. "As long as he doesn't touch me yeah, that will be fine. Do you want to take the blood now?"

"If that's alright with you. I would like to get Mr. Malfoy on the road to recovery as soon as possible."

"Yeah, that's fine."

Madam Pomfrey fetches a syringe and, as promised, takes my blood. Fixing the small puncture in my arm with a quick wave of her wand and a muttered spell, she lifts up the blood.

"Seems good! Thank you Mr. Potter," The woman says, beaming at me.

I give her a small smile, and turn to leave with a slight bow of my head.

"Oh, Mr. Potter! You can't tell everyone about this, okay? This needs to fly under the radar. If certain people get wind of this, it would end very badly," Madam Pomfrey says seriously, but there is still a hint of a smile on her face.

"Yes ma'am," I reply, and exit the Hospital Wing.

Did I really just do that?

Words: 1116