Draco's Escort Service

Chapter Four

The undergrowth grew thicker and Draco alternately used his wand to light the way and cut a path. He hoped they would find a decent place to camp soon—he was bloody exhausted. At that point, anything without brambles or dryads would suffice.

An odd sound caused Draco to pause. He instinctively doused his wand and reached back a hand to silence Potter, who probably wouldn’t have spoken anyway. Harry seemed to be moving in a trance. He stopped when Draco’s fingertips touched his chest. His face shone pale in the dim moonlight that filtered through the trees.

“Stay here,” he breathed to Potter.

Draco pushed his way out of the latest set of sticker bushes and froze, alert for every sound. A barely audible hiss warned him and he dropped to one knee. An arrow thunked into a tree after it whisked over his head.

Draco stood in one fluid movement and cast an assortment of spells toward the origin of the arrow while launching himself forward. A volley of arrows followed him until they were abruptly cut off by a muffled cry—one of his spells had connected.

He kept moving, not intending to become a pincushion. He also wanted to draw any potential fire away from Potter, who couldn’t fight back.

Of course Potter, being of Gryffindor persuasion, had other ideas. He leaped after Malfoy with wand drawn. Luckily, Draco’s spell must have incapacitated their attacker, since Potter wasn’t cut down by a hail of arrows.

Malfoy forced his way through the brush to find a petrified centaur glaring at him. Draco swore. Centaurs rarely traveled alone. He turned and pelted back to Potter.

“We need to get the hell out of here!” he said and snatched a handful of Harry’s shirt. He dragged Potter until they were running pell-mell through the forest. Hopefully, the horse creature was alone and would stay immobilized for awhile. Draco wasn’t sure how effective his spells would be on centaurs—they seemed to lean toward magical resistance.

They ran until Potter sprawled headlong and nearly knocked Draco over. Malfoy stopped to help him to his feet. They were both gasping with exertion. Potter left his broom on the ground.

“No more,” he panted. Draco tossed his broom next to Potter’s and shrugged off his pack again. He helped Harry remove his burden.

“You’re bleeding, Malfoy,” Harry commented tiredly. It wasn’t until then that Draco felt the sting. One of the arrows must have nicked him. His bicep was drenched in drying blood.

“Damn.” Malfoy looked around carefully. They stood in a small clearing that was unnaturally quiet. Draco strained his ears, but there was no sound of pursuit. No sound at all, actually, except the rasp of Potter’s breathing. “I suppose we can rest a moment.” He unbuttoned his shirt. Potter walked a few steps and then threw himself gratefully on a soft patch of grass.

“What time do you suppose it is?” Harry asked raggedly.

Draco glanced at the sky and peeled his shirt off. The sleeve stuck to his wound.

“About one a.m.,” he said and yanked. He winced as the action tore the gash open. It didn’t look deep, but it had been serious enough to bleed like the devil.

“Wild strawberries,” Harry commented. Draco turned at the odd comment, wondering if Potter was getting delusional. Harry tossed a handful of berries into his mouth and Draco’s blood turned to ice.

“No!”he yelled and bounded across the intervening space to pound Potter on the back with an open palm.

A number of small berries flew out of Harry’s mouth and sprayed on the ground. Potter coughed for a moment and then glared at Draco.

“Fuck, Malfoy! What the hell?”

“A dryad told me not to eat or drink anything here.”

“Do you think you might have mentioned that?” Potter burst out loudly. “Oh no—“

“We’ve been rather busy—what do you mean ‘oh no?’”

“I swallowed one.”

Draco felt sick. They stared at one another for a sober moment in the darkness.

“Let’s hope we haven’t yet reached the border of the dangerous area. How do you feel?” Draco asked.

“Fine,” said Harry. “Still hungry, actually.”

Draco went back to his pack to find Potter some food. He carried dried beef, bread, and cheese back to Potter who lay flat on the grass.

“You know, Malfoy, suddenly I’m not very hungry. Just tired. I’m so incredibly tired…”

Draco grabbed Potter’s shirt to haul him upright.

“No, you don’t. We could have a herd of centaurs on our heels and we have no idea what other dangers lurk out there. You sit up and eat. We’ll rest later.”

Potter nodded weakly and ate the food Draco handed to him, but he seemed to force it down. He swallowed obediently from Draco’s water skin when he finished.

“Time to go,” Draco said after he stowed his pack once more. He took Potter’s hands and dragged him to his feet, trying not to notice how unsteady Potter looked. Draco slung Gryffindor’s sword over his own shoulder. He helped Potter don his pack. Malfoy levitated the brooms and had them float along behind like trailing dogs.

Malfoy led the way and Potter followed, Inferius-like, behind him. Draco turned often to check on Harry’s progress. After about a quarter-hour, Potter asked, “Malfoy? Do you hear music?”

Draco stopped and listened intently. Nothing. Not even crickets or frogs. No sounds at all.

“No, Potter. I do not hear music. Now, let’s get you out of this infernal forest.”

They continued on and Draco found himself moving faster and faster, returning time and again to urge Potter onward.

“It’s getting louder,” Harry said sometime later. “It’s so beautiful… like nothing I’ve ever heard.”

“Don’t listen to it!” Draco snapped as a cold spike of fear went through his chest. He clutched Potter’s shoulders and gave him a shake. A sheen of sweat glazed Harry’s forehead. Draco swallowed hard. He needed to get Potter to shelter and figure out how to fight this. Malfoy swore roundly. He’d never lost a client yet, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to lose the hero of the wizarding world.

He glanced about frantically. They had been climbing somewhat and the way was getting rockier. With luck, there would be a cave or something nearby.

A glint of light caught his eye. He stared and blinked. Nothing. Draco shrugged. One direction was as good as another. He sighed and slung an arm across Potter’s shoulders to guide him. Harry didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were far away.