"It was a stupid thing to do."

"I know."

"You could have killed her."

"I know."

"Didn't I tell you-"

"Alright Hermione, I get it. You were right and I was wrong. Happy?"

"No, not really. What were you thinking of, getting into fights when your best friend is laying here in hospital? He needs us!"

Tired, Harry closed his eyes. It had been a long day, one that had ended up with him having landed a Saturday detention with Snape every week until the end of the school year.

But he didn't mind, not really - not when it meant that Snape's involvement had saved Draya's life.

He balked, remembering how he had been certain he'd killed her, that when she'd closed her eyes he had been convinced that she had died right there in his arms on the girls' bathroom floor.

But then Snape had come charging in and buffeted him out of the way, saving Draya with a spell of which Harry had never witnessed before.

All of his anger towards her had evaporated right there on the cold, wet stone floor. He had closed his eyes and prayed to a god he didn't believe in. He had made vows of his own, bargaining to himself that he would never copy homework off Hermione again if only she would just open her eyes.

He didn't care she had the Dark Mark - he had, after all, already known she had it. He had known when he'd kissed her, and he had known when he told her he wanted her.

Draya Malfoy was a Death Eater, but Harry didn't think for a second that she'd wanted to be. Not by the way he'd witnessed her cling to that sink and sob with complete despair.

And the way Snape had looked at him. Boy, if looks could kill, then Avada Kedvra would have nothing on him.

"Do you really think she did it, then?" Hermione whispered as she gazed down forlornly at Ron's snoring face. "Do you really believe she could have put poison in that mead?"

Harry's eyes widened. This was the first time Hermione was even considering listening to his theories, and yet this was the first time Harry didn't want to talk about them.

"No," he lied without hesitation. "Besides, I'm sure Slughorn has collected just as many enemies as he has celebrities throughout his life. Ron just got unlucky."

Hermione, seeming satisfied with this answer, sat back in the chair she'd hadn't moved from since Ron had occupied the bed next to it.

Harry dared steal a glance over to the far corner of the wing where long white drapes concealed a recently occupied bed.

He swallowed, wondering how his presence would be received if he went to see her.

Snape had already ordered him to stay away, that if he even caught him looking in Draya's direction he would ensure that he would never be allowed to step foot back inside the castle again.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked fretfully as Harry got to his feet. "We should be here, in case he wakes up."

"He's got you," Harry said gently as he placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "And somehow I think that's all he needs right now."

He looked regretfully back towards where Draya lay out of sight, hating himself that little bit more.

And then he walked away.

******

Groggily, I opened my eyes. My first thought was where the fuck am I?

My second thought was ARGHHH WHY DOES IT HURT SO FUCKING BAD?!

I tried to sit up, but this made the pain ten thousand times worse. I hadn't been aware I was screaming until Madam Pomfrey appeared, throwing the drapes open and demanding I shut up before I wake the other patients.

Before I could ask her what the fuck was happening, she rammed a spoon into my mouth and cool liquid slid down my throat, stopping the pain almost immediately.

"You've been through quite the mill, my dear," she said brusquely, plumping up the pillow behind me. "And you need your rest."

She reached out and pulled the spoon out of my mouth. Exhausted, I flopped back down against the pillow, grateful for its plumpness.

She left, snapping the curtains back shut behind her.

Left by myself, I struggled to sift through the fog in my brain, trying to recall the events that might have led me to being in the hospital wing.

My stomach, as far as I could tell, was severely wounded. But how, I couldn't remember.

It was only when I heard the hushed voices of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger from beyond the curtains, did my memories slowly trickle back to me.

"Did you hear that, Ronald, she's awake!"

"And so am I now! Bloody hell, woman, what are you still doing here? I thought I told you to go back to the dormitory."

"And leave you here alone with that cold blooded killer? I don't think so!"

"You heard what Harry said, it wasn't her, he had been mistaken."

"Then tell me who has been running around the castle sending poisoned mead to the teachers?! It's barbaric that they let her stay on this wing with you here!"

Harry defended me? I was so confused. Why would he do that? He was the one who almost killed me, after all.

And then another memory flashed in my mind: of Harry holding me and begging me not to leave him.

Before I could ponder this development any further, however, I experienced a sudden great wave of tiredness, clearly Poppy's potion having something to do with it.

Yawning, I carefully turned onto my side and closed my eyes, allowing myself to succumb to blissful oblivion.

******

The following morning, I found myself having to contend with a long string of visitors. All of whom were Slytherins.

"We got yer these," Crabbe said, holding up a bunch of half dead weeds in a great beefy hand. "Sorry, but it's the best we could pinch at such short notice."

Goyle patted my arm as Crabbe fussed around trying to arrange them in my jug of drinking water.

"Don' worry," Goyle said kindly, "we're gonna kill Potter for yer. No one gets away with hurting our friend."

I beamed, touched.

Pansy and Blaise's visit was extremely tiring, however.

"HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO MEEEEE?" Pansy wailed as she threw herself down dramatically across my wounded torso. "I COULD HAVE LOST MY BEST FRIEND!"

Blaise, unamused, gently coaxed her away as I tried not to vomit through my pain, assuring her I wasn't going anywhere yet.

Daphne and Millicent came bearing strawberry bootlaces and gossip.

"I heard Snape's got him in detention for the rest of the school year," Daphne proudly shared, chewing on one of my bootlaces. "I can't believe he wasn't expelled though. I mean, his actions almost killed another student. Who does that?"

My stomach knotted with guilt as I nodded in agreement.

Millicent smiled and shared with me that "Greggy" was going to spend the summer with her and her parents ("He says his parents are awfully busy with work stuff lately.").

Every single time I heard the sound of the curtains being pulled open, I would glance up hopefully. And then I would smile politely at my visitor, trying to ignore the dull thud of disappointment in my chest.

Yet, I refused to admit, even to myself, that, despite knowing it had just been a dream, I still couldn't help but look for the boy with the scar.

******

A/N: Hey beautiful readers, I would love to know your thoughts on how you feel this story is going. Please feel free to drop a comment either on here or pm me. Personally, it's been a struggle for me to have Harry as a love interest but I think he really works for Draya in this story. Those of you who have read my Henrietta series know how much I love this dynamic!

Also, thank you for reading ❤️

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