So Wrong, Yet So Right

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table, quickly eating his lunch so he could go to the library and work on his homework that he already received. It was Friday, and by nighttime, it would be the start of his first official weekend with Severus. He wanted to make sure he had nothing waiting for him, come Monday, wanting to spend all of his time with Severus, mostly in bed of course.

He took another bite of his sandwich, noticing the rest of the students starting to fill their seats at their tables. He had rushed to lunch right after his last class and was one of the first few who arrived in the hall. He quickly scanned the Gryffindor table, wondering how Potter was doing so far.

He furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the empty space between Weasley and Granger. He leaned back in his seat, wondering if perhaps he was sitting across from them, but nothing. He held his breath as he continued to scan the table, hoping he was just avoiding his stupid redheaded friend and sitting somewhere else. He worriedly bit on his lip when he didn’t see him.

“Well, I think he was a coward and decided to just hide in his room.”

Draco quickly turned in his seat, curious whom Nott was talking about. Blaise looked away from Nott and over at Draco, frowning. “Potter,” he said, understanding his friend’s silent question.

“What about him?” Draco asked, trying to keep his voice free from worry.

“Apparently, Boot told Nott that Potter left their class early and then never came back,” Blaise answered.

“I also overheard some Hufflepuff say he wasn’t in their next class, either,” Nott stated.

Draco shot out of his seat and quickly moved toward the Gryffindor table, ignoring the gasps coming from the surrounding students. “Have you seen him?” he frantically asked Granger.

She furrowed her eyebrows and glanced around the table, before looking up at Malfoy, realizing he was talking to her. “Who?” she wondered, still a bit baffled by his presence.

“Potter.”

She shook her head, “Not since our first class this morning.”

“You never checked up on him to see if he was alright?” he incredulously asked, shifting his eyes toward some of Potter’s other friends.

They shamefully lowered their heads, showing Malfoy that none of them had. He shook his head in amazement. “Wow, what great friends he has,” he sarcastically commented.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” Ron snapped. “We know him a lot better than you do.”

“And apparently had to share that knowledge with everyone else, right Weasel?” he retorted.

Ron’s face instantly went red. “I didn’t mean to do it! It was an accident!” he exclaimed, glancing over at Hermione, hoping for some sympathy.

Hermione just shook her head, letting him know that she wasn’t about to comfort him. She was still pretty mad at him for what he had done, much like the rest of Harry’s friends who had known the truth.

“He just needs some time alone right now,” Dean said, earning some agreeing nods from the other Gryffindors.

“Did he actually say that to you?” Draco curiously wondered.

“I told you that we know him, Malfoy,” Ron snarled. “He doesn’t have to tell us.”

Draco looked around the table, noticing that some were starting to wonder if they should actually have gone to see him. He shook his head, glancing back down at Granger. “I would’ve thought that you’d have better sense,” he muttered, before leaving their table.

He quickly grabbed his belongings from his table and left the hall, praying they were right, but there was just something in his gut that told him they weren’t. He knew something was terribly wrong.

“Draco,” a voice called out, causing him to stop and turn around.

Severus walked toward him, staring at him in confusion. “What is it?” he questioned, aware of the boy’s earlier interaction with the Gryffindors.

“Potter hasn’t been in class,” Draco answered.

Severus nodded, having heard about it from some of the other professors. “And his friends?”

“Never checked to see if he was in his room,” he hissed, glancing around the corridor.

“Draco, what are you thinking?”

Draco took a deep breath, returning his attention to Severus. “Somebody got to him,” he whispered.

Severus sighed, having had the same thought. “I’ll have Professor McGonagall check the Gryffindor Tower,” he informed.

Draco nodded, glad that he wasn’t the only one thinking the worst. “I’ll check the toilets,” he said, remembering how easy it was for people to have targeted him in there.

*****
He wasn’t sure how he was feeling at the moment. On the one hand, he was relieved he had yet to find Potter, but on the other, he was scared. He hadn’t heard from Severus yet, and knew that if McGonagall had found Potter, Severus would have come to tell him. That was what was worrying him the most. The lunch hour was almost over, and he still had heard nothing from anyone.

He stopped in front of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and took a deep breath, having saved that room for last. He had hoped he would find Potter before then, but there he was. He knew Potter had frequented this place on several occasions and could understand why. It was one of the best places to go when one needed a bit of privacy, even if they had to make small chitchat with Myrtle before she gave it to them. It was, however, one of the best places to get attacked as well.

He shakily placed his hand on the door, feeling his whole body shiver as the memory of Marcus Flint played in his mind. It felt like only yesterday when he was lying on the floor, screaming under the Cruciatus curse, as he was hit with other curses and then left for dead. He quickly pulled back his hand, not sure if he could do it. He tried thinking of all the other places Potter could possibly be, but sadly, his mind continued to come back to this place.

He took another deep breath, before gathering up all his courage and pushing the door in. As soon as he entered, he froze, staring at the empty spot beneath the sinks. His lower lip started to tremble, as flashes of the older boy standing over him moved forward. He slowly backed up against the door, not able to shift his eyes away from the spot.

“You came back,” the girl ghost suddenly cheered, smiling at Draco.

Draco remained frozen, not hearing Myrtle speak. He knew he shouldn’t have come in there. It was too soon; he had to get out.

“Oh how I’ve missed my Draco,” she continued, floating around the room. “I was going to share my toilet with you, remember? But alas, you were saved,” she then frowned. “And now it seems I won’t be getting Harry Potter either, even now when he’s so close,” she pouted, causing Draco to finally snap out of his trance and look up, hearing Potter’s name.

“Potter’s here?” he frantically asked.

She nodded, pointing toward the last stall. Draco hurried across the room, moving toward the stall. When he saw a pair of legs on the floor, he took a deep breath, slowly pulling the door open.

Harry was lying unconscious on the ground, his hands tied to the toilet. Draco quickly moved closer, checking for the boy’s pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a beat. He then gulped, staring at all the cuts and bruises along his body.

“How long has he been unconscious?” he asked the ghost, hurriedly taking off his robe and wrapping it around Potter.

“Don’t know,” she shook her head. “He was already like that when I found him.”

Draco frowned, looking up at Myrtle. “So you didn’t see who did this then?”

She shook her head again. “I was out swimming and came back just a little while ago.”

Draco nervously swallowed, untying the knot that held Potter’s hands together on the back of the toilet. Once the ropes were free, he slid his hands underneath Potter’s body, lifting him off the floor.

He moved the boy out from the tiny space and placed him in the middle of the room, fearfully looking around. He thought about taking him to the infirmary, but it was all the way on the other side of the castle and there was no way he would let the other students see him in that state. He began thinking some more and suddenly had an idea, remembering the hidden stairs that were just a few steps away that led to the dungeons.

Draco wrapped his robe tighter around Potter and lifted him once more, keeping him close to his body for warmth. He cautiously opened the door and peered outside, hoping the coast was clear. Thankfully, nobody was around and he quickly moved to the portrait that the stairs were hidden behind, opening it in the next second and starting his descent. He sadly stared down at Potter’s face and shook his head, remembering all too clearly of his own injuries.

As soon as he reached his destination, he flung the door open and entered inside. He moved toward the sofa and gently set him down, before rushing toward the fireplace. He grabbed some floo powder from the mantel and threw it in, sticking his head inside and calling for Madam Pomfrey.

She was just finishing up mending a second year’s leg, when she saw the fireplace light up in the back office. Knowing the fireplace was only used for emergencies, she hastened her steps toward the office, afraid of what had happened.

“He needs help,” Draco sputtered, as soon as he saw the matron.

“Who does? What’s happened?” she anxiously asked.

“Potter,” he choked out. “He’s unconscious.”

Her eyes widened and she quickly began packing up some potions and bandages. “Where is he?” she questioned.

“Sev…uh, Professor Snape’s chambers,” he replied.

She nodded, packing up the last of her materials. “Stand back. I’m coming through,” she then cautioned, seeing the boy’s head pull out of the fireplace.

A second later, she was standing in Snape’s common room. Draco rushed her toward the sofa, pointing to where Potter was. She nodded, kneeling down in front of the unconscious boy and moving her wand across his body.

“Is he…will he…” Draco tried asking, but couldn’t seem to find the words.

“I don’t know,” she frowned, turning toward him. “How long has he been out?”

Draco shook his head, shifting his eyes toward the still body on the sofa. “I’m not sure. He was already out when I found him.”

She returned her attention to Harry, picking up his wrist and closing her eyes, silently counting his pulse beat. After a minute, she nodded and dropped his wrist to his side, pulling up the boy’s shirt.

Draco’s breath hitched, when he saw for the first time Potter’s bare chest. Quidditch had definitely been good to him. He licked his lips, not able to look away from his flat stomach. He knew it was wrong to think that way right then, but he just couldn’t help it. Even lifeless, the boy was desirable.

Suddenly, he heard Severus’ door open and quickly turned around. He saw his professor furrow his eyebrows, staring between him and Pomfrey, aware that he had yet to see Potter on the sofa.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

Madam Pomfrey looked over at Severus and frowned. “It seems Mr. Potter was attacked,” she answered.

He glanced over at Draco, before looking over at his sofa, spotting Potter there. “Is he going to be okay?” he asked, a bit softer than he had wanted to voice.

She nodded, wrapping Harry’s arm in a bandage. “I’ve healed most of his cuts, but some of his bruises will need a bit more care,” she answered, fretfully gazing up at Severus. “He really needs to rest, but I fear we shouldn’t move him just yet. At least not until he wakes up.”

The man nodded, understanding the woman’s request. “Of course,” he remarked, moving further inside the room.

She nodded once more and then stood up. “I’ll come by later to check on him,” she informed, reaching down to grab her bag and then moving toward the fireplace.

“Should I cancel the rest of my classes?” Severus asked, not certain what his duties would be to the boy.

“He’ll more than likely not wake until tonight, possibly even tomorrow morning,” she explained. “I suggest you continue with your classes, but stop in every once in a while to make sure he’s doing okay.”

After earning a nod from Severus and taking one last glance in Harry’s direction, she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared, leaving the two Slytherins alone with the Gryffindor Golden Boy.