Another Turning Point

The Aftermath

(Draco's POV)

I didn't know what to say in response and my head started to spin. But it took me a moment to realise that this was mainly because of blood loss. I glanced down at my arm again and I was shocked, I had never seen that much blood in my life. For a second I just sat staring, I was terrified I knew I could die, and I didn't want that, not really. The thought shook me to my core and I let out a dry, panicked sob. The enormity of what I had done to myself was too much to bear.

I suspect that Harry would have let me sit there and bleed to death until he realised it wasn't what I wanted, the sheer terror that must have been stamped across my face jerked him into save-the-world mode.

"You need to go to the hospital wing. Can you walk?"

"I can't go there, they'll think I'm mad. They'll want explanations and the whole school will find out, they'll even tell my parents."

I hadn't wanted to talk about my parents any more than I already had, but I was weak and shaking and any way I could convince Harry not to take me to the hospital wing was good.

I don't know why he didn't go straight for Madam Pomfrey, or any teacher. I could have died but he still respected what I wanted. Ducking under my good arm, with his arm locked round my waist he half lead, half dragged me along corridor after corridor for what seemed like ages, while I felt myself growing weaker, everything seemed to be slipping in and out of focus and I felt very very tired.

Eventually we stopped outside a door, which I knew I recognised, but in that state I couldn't for the life of me fathom why.

"What's the password?" Harry's voice sounded faint and far away; and for some reason the situation seemed suddenly hilarious and I started to giggle. Harry gave me a rough shake. "Come on Draco, shut up or someone will come, they'll think I'm trying to kill you or something! What's the password to the bathroom, you're a prefect you must know" I heard myself mutter 'toilet duck' through the giggles but it sounded odd -as if it wasn't me talking but someone else far away. The door opened then I suppose because I felt Harry pulling me along again. Then I passed out.

When I awoke I was lying on the floor on my side, something soft was under my head as a pillow and I could feel the weight of several cloaks piled on top of me. Hushed voices were coming from somewhere close by.

"I've stopped the bleeding the best I can, and that potion should revive him, but those cuts need cleaned and bandaged, and the amount of blood he's lost is critical. He needs to be in the hospital wing. He needs proper help."

"I know," a harsh voice cut across the worried female one "I'll take him down soon but he asked not to go, I have to help him Hermione, I'll take him when I can persuade him he needs to go, just give me a chance." There was a desperate edge in his voice. Hermione sighed, and she sounded as if she'd really rather not be there making that decision.

"Fine, fine, but if he isn't there in half an hour I'm going to tell Professor McGonagall what you've done and that you forced me to help you and to keep quiet" with that she turned and left, and once more I was alone with Harry.

Attempting to push myself into a sitting position pain shot through my arm and my head swan horribly with the movement. For a moment I was sure I would either faint again or be sick but in a split second Harry was at my side supporting my weight. I squeezed my eyes shut until the spinning stopped but when I opened them again everything was still blurry, and I was still a bit dizzy. The last hour came flooding back to me, everything I had done, and what had been said in the potions classroom. I turned to Harry bursting with questions, but when I met his gaze I found myself speechless. There was something in the way he was looking at me that I'll never forget. That quality, the mysterious emotion that shone through the intense green still haunts me to this day. No one else in the entire world has ever looked at me with quite such an expression on their face.

It was the sheer intensity that got me, the way pure hatred somehow managed to blend in with a love that must have pierced his heart. The way he looked terrified, but I've never seen anyone look so calm. And the way his worry and pity for me seemed to be matched almost exactly with the true happiness he felt because he was with me. God only knows how he could manage to feel so many emotions and not burst. I have difficulty managing just 2 or 3 emotions, hence the self-harm.

Slowly he raised a hand and gently touched the side of my face, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, all the time watching me with those eyes. Then ever so gently, so tenderly he kissed me lightly finally closing his eyes so I didn't have to watch his soul any longer.

I blame the blood loss for me not running away in horror, and I found myself kissing him back in that same gentle way. I had never kissed nor been kissed quite so tenderly in all my life. Kissed as though the person loved me more than they loved themselves.

Inside my chest my heart exploded.

All my life really I had stored away my pain, I was the secretive type. And I had parents who thought that their duties stretched to plying me with lavish gifts. I knew my mother loved me but that's all she was, a mother, she could never be a mum. It's the price you pay for being rich.

All those years I had bottled up my worries and my hurt. Even my hopes and ambitions had to be kept where no one could get to them so no one could destroy them. It was as if Harry had taken that bottle and smashed it inside me. The shards of glass impaling my heart and my lungs, making my breath catch in my chest. All the years worth of pain coursed through my veins wreaking havoc. I pulled away from him crying. Raw emotion took over me and my body was racked with sobs, tears coursing down my cheeks. Harry didn't seem to know what to do, he'd broken the unbreakable indifference that makes a Malfoy. He tired to pull me to my feet saying something about Hospital. A knock at the door made him freeze.

"Are you OK?" It was Professor Weaving's voice. She must have heard me crying as she passed. Actually I'm surprised the whole school couldn't hear me. Of course I was crying too hard to be able to answer her and Harry was looking like a rabbit in the headlights so she knocked again. Getting no response she muttered the teachers' password and pushed open the door.

Harry instinctively drooped my arm and took a step back, wanting no doubt to separate himself from me and my injuries. Professor Weaving ignored him and spoke to me instead.

"What happened to your arm?" I managed to gasp that I had cut it and she nodded. "Potter go to the hospital wing, bring Madam Pomfrey here. Now." He hesitated for a moment then sighed and hurried out the room. I wanted to explain to her that I didn't want any fuss, that I just wanted to be left alone. It seemed so much easier to let her take care of it all though, so I buried my face in my knees and cried my heart out while she crouched next to me with a supportive hand on my shoulder until the matron arrived.