Cold as Ice

Chapter 5.

What happened next seemed almost unreal to Harry. Ron stepped away from Draco, then brought his clenched fist and drove it into Draco's face.

'No!' Harry yelled. Draco flew backward against the wall and crumpled to the floor.

'You idiot!' Harry cried at Ron as he ran to Draco's side. 'You stupid idiot!' Blood was pouring from a large cut on the back of Draco's head, matting his blond hair. Ron looked awkward.

'Harry, I-'

'Shut up. Just shut up,' Harry sobbed. He felt for Draco's pulse. It was very faint.

'Please be OK, Draco,' Harry whispered, touching the blond boy's face where a dark bruise was already forming. Then he carefully picked Draco's limp form up in his arms and set off for the hospital wing as fast as he could. As he passed Ron, he shot him a look of pure loathing.

About ten minutes later, Harry struggled into the hospital wing. Draco's head was still bleeding profusely, and his pulse had weakened even more.

'Madam Pomfrey!' Harry gasped. 'Please help!' The plump nurse bustled out of her office.

'What on earth happened?' she exclaimed as she saw Draco, who was now lying on a bed where Harry had put him. The pillow on which his head lay was already half stained with red blood. Ron had obviously got a very strong fist to have hurt Draco this much.

'He hit his head on a wall, really hard,' Harry explained.

'What about this?' Madam Pomfrey pointed to the large, ugly bruise that covered mot of Draco's left cheek and eye.

'Uh...' Harry had to think quickly. If he told her about Ron, Ron would be in trouble, but if he didn't tell the truth he'd have to make something up. He decided to tell the truth, partially. He was too worried and tired to think up some lame excuse.

'Someone punched him. Hard. That's why he hit his head, 'cause he fell backwards he sighed. Madam Pomfrey frowned, then carried on with what she had been doing, carefully applying a potion to the cut on Draco's head. Harry watched for a moment as the potion worked its magic.

'Will he be ok?' he said quietly.

'Eventually, I hope. The cut's deep, but I can fix that. I'm more worried about the damage that he could have got to his brain,' said Madam Pomfrey seriously.

Harry's heart froze.

'Damage to his brain?' he choked.

'Whoever hit him must have been very angry.'

'He was,' Harry said coldly, a fierce hatred for Ron boiling up inside him, a hatred only equalled by the hatred he had for Voldemort.

'Maybe it's best if you leave now, Mr Potter,' Madam Pomfrey said gently. 'Thank you for bringing Mr Malfoy to me.'

'I'm staying. I can't leave him now,' Harry replied firmly. He knew that what he saying would sound odd, and sure enough, Madam Pomfrey gave him a very strange look as she went back to her office, but frankly Harry didn't care. He wanted to stay with Draco.

He stayed by Draco's bed all day. Every so often, he would check to see if Draco still had a pulse and that he was still breathing. Sometimes, the pulse in Draco's slender wrist seemed weaker, and other times it was stronger. At least he's still alive, Harry told himself.

Harry didn't eat or drink anything that day. He couldn't leave Draco's side in case something happened. By eleven o'clock, his face was aching from yawning so much, so he reluctantly set off to the dormitory - Madam Pomfrey had outright refused to let him sleep in the hospital wing.

The common room was buzzing with chatter when Harry climbed through the portrait hole. As he passed various groups, he heard snatches of conversation.

'...Weasley, apparently. Knocked him flat out...'

'...still blood on the floor...'

'...probably did us a favour...'

Harry's anger flared again. Everyone was talking about Draco being hit by Ron. And they were happy about it.

'Harry.' Hermione was at his elbow.

'Hi, Hermione,' Harry grunted.

'I heard about Malfoy...Draco. I'm sorry,' Hermione said softly.

'Thanks.'

'Will he be alright?' Hermione had been making a big effort to be nice about Draco since Harry had explained his situation. Harry sighed.

'He may have brain damage,' he said flatly. 'Thanks to him,' he added, spotted Ron sitting alone in a corner of the room. Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

'He-'

'Don't tell me he didn't mean to,' Harry snapped. Hermione fell silent.

'I'm going to bed. See you in the morning,' Harry sighed. Hermione nodded helplessly and Harry tried to smile for her, but he couldn't, so he went upstairs to bed without another word.

He fell asleep before he could even get undressed. His dreams were troubled, however, and he woke up many times during the night. By half past six, he couldn't get back to sleep, so he changed into his robes, picked up his school bag and set off. He was going to see Draco before lessons started.

Nothing had changed during the night. Draco still lay unmoving on his bed, which had clean sheets and pillow cases on. Harry didn't notice this minor detail. He just sat beside Draco and took his hand.

'Draco,' he whispered, 'please be OK. I need you. You can't go. I love you.'

Harry closed his eyes to stop the tears that had been threatening to fall since he had brought Draco to the hospital wing spilling over his cheeks. In his head, he kept repeating the last words he had said... 'I love you'. It was true, and Draco wasn't even awake to hear it.

Draco's head felt like it was ten times bigger than usual. But through the pain, Harry's words filtered into his aching brain. Draco moistened his lips.

'You always were a sap, Potter,' he croaked. Harry's eyes flew open.

'You're awake!' he cried, his face lighting up as though someone had switched a 1000 watt light bulb on in his head. 'How do you feel?'

'Like I have a Hippogriff on my head,' Draco said dryly. 'Nothing a little - a very little - kiss couldn't cure.'

Harry didn't need telling twice. He leant forwards and gently pressed his lips to Draco's.

'Mmm,' Draco sighed as Harry pulled away. 'That's a bit better...ow...'

Harry looked concerned. 'Shall I get Madam Pomfrey?' he said, standing up.

'No...no I just need to sleep,' Draco replied. He closed his eyes, a small frown knitting his brow.

Harry smiled as Draco closed his eyes.

'I'll be back later then,' he murmured, taking Draco's hand again. It was limp. Harry frowned - Draco couldn't be asleep already, could he? He slid his fingers up to Draco's wrist.

There was no pulse, no flicker of life under the white skin. Harry stood in disbelief for a second, then ran full-pelt to Madam Pomfrey's office.

'He's got no pulse!' he gasped as he skidded to a halt in the door. 'Draco's got no pulse!'

Madam Pomfrey leapt up and went to Draco's bed.

'I'll try and bring him back, Potter, but I can't promise anything. It's best if you go to breakfast.' Madam Pomfrey's words barely registered in Harry's brain. He let himself be ushered to the door without protesting once. He was numb.

Yet under the numbness, the hatred he had felt for Ron yesterday was increasing ten fold. Ron had killed the one person Harry loved, just out of pure jealousy. Suddenly, all Harry could think of was avenging Draco's death.

Draco was floating away, however hard he fought to stay alive. He was above his body, looking down on Harry and Madam Pomfrey both fussing around his bed. Draco hated it. It was cold without a body, and weirdly empty, lonely. He watched Harry leave.

'Harry...' he said softly. His voice echoed, but neither Madam Pomfrey nor Harry seemed to hear it. Draco was all alone.

Pomfrey was doing something to his body. Resuscitation. There was a great pull, and he was back. Back in his body, gasping for air.

'Welcome back, Mr Malfoy.'