Not Just an Empty Emotion

Purple Flame

Story Summary:
It's Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. When Draco Malfoy begins to learn what Voldemort really wants from his followers he begins to resent his father and everything he represents. He realises Harry Potter's fight has been the right one all along, and only now does he begin to do something about it.

Chapter 17

Chapter Summary:
"Fine Lines"~Draco has managed to get a seriously injured Harry back to Hogwarts, but who will he go to? The person he chooses makes promises- but can she keep them? And while Madam Pomfrey tries her best to heal Harry she can't make any promises of her own. And Ron still hasn't changed him mind.
Posted:
07/14/2004
Hits:
1,194


Chapter 17-Fine Lines

Draco was struggling to hold Potter upright; since he had thrown up he had not spoken or moved at all. Draco was trying not to let his emotion, and his terror that Potter was seriously hurt, cloud his judgement and his senses. He hoisted the boy into a more comfortable position, steadied him and then carefully freed one of his hands to knock on the door before him.

"Come on, woman..." he muttered through gritted teeth, glancing around the corridor, expecting a teacher to come along at any moment. He raised his fist impatiently to knock again, but was spared the trouble when the door opened.

"'Ello? Wassup?" said the woman, clearly still half-asleep.

"Oh thank God. Can we come in? We need your help."

The woman looked at him and blinked. "Uh...yeah...yeah...come in then."

"Cheers," said Draco, dragging Potter into the dark room as carefully as he could, and lowering him gently into a chair. He straightened up as the woman closed the door.

She scrabbled around on a table for her wand, waved it once and immediately the lamps flared.

Swan Jupiter was standing before him looking very ruffled, in a red silk nightgown, her long hair slightly messy and a slight frown upon her face. She sat on the end of her bed and said, "So.... what?"

"Um..." Draco said. Now it came to it he wasn't sure how to start, he didn't know how much it would be safe to tell her. He knew she could be trusted, he hadn't ever spoken to her outside of the classroom, but her classes were some of his favourite, and she seemed to like him. Or at least she didn't hate him.

"I...we...look, Potter's injured."

"What?!" She stood up, shocked. It had only just hit her that Draco Malfoy had just come into her office at 3am supporting Harry Potter. It looked as though Potter had taken her advice and spoken to Draco...and it also looked as though he was right about Draco not being the bastard he was supposed to be; his face was pale, and he looked genuinely worried about Potter's health.

"Draco why didn't you go to the hospital wing? I can't help you with this- I dropped out of healer training after less than a year! Come on quickly this is serious-"

"We can't, professor!" said Draco. "We...well, I'm not exactly sure what's happened to him and...well...we were somewhere we weren't meant to be."

"Tell me," Jupiter said, urgency clear in her quiet voice.

Draco told her hurriedly what had happened. "We followed Snape, and he led us to the raid on the Muggle Village...there were Death Eaters there-dozens of them, fighting the Aurors! I'm so sorry Professor, it was such a stupid thing to do, but...well...sorry," he finished, lamely.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not furious with what you've done, Draco, but there's no time for punishment now. We need to get Harry to the hospital wing and then I need to ask you some questions. I think it would be better all round if we just kept this to ourselves and Madam Pomfrey- we can tell anyone else that Potter is just ill. Flu or something, ok?"

Draco nodded dumbly.

"Right. Come on, quickly, let's get him up to the Hospital Wing."
She stood up and moved over to Draco who made to pick Potter up.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed. "You're injured, too! Oh Draco, what the hell have you done? You're going to have to tell me the whole story- I'm not satisfied with 'we followed Snape and got involved in the fight'. Firstly, who the hell did this to Potter?"

"Voldemort," said Draco grimly, closing his eyes for fear of her reaction.

"Oh shit. Right, well, you can't take him I'm afraid, if you're injured too."

Swan conjured a stretcher from thin air and magicked Potter onto it.

As they strode as fast as possible towards the hospital wing, Draco said, "Professor, why are you here?"

"What?" she muttered distractedly.

"Why weren't you there? Fighting?"

"We can't send the whole Order into the fight, Draco, even those that are Aurors. It's too much of a risk that we'd lose all of us. Secondly, the Ministry couldn't send me there; I took this teaching job on with the understanding that my Auror duties would be suspended for as long as I was a teacher. And thirdly we needed someone from the Order to be in the school. On this occasion it was Dumbledore, Flitwick and I who stayed behind."

Draco nodded, but didn't bother to ask what the "Order" was, though he had heard it mentioned by two different people already that night, and they didn't speak again until they reached the hospital wing. Swan locked the door behind her, placed the stretcher onto the nearest bed and said, "Entrusnoc." A knock was heard on Madam Pomfrey's door, and seconds later she emerged, looking flustered but ready for business.

"What's the problem, Swan?" she asked, bringing the curtains around Potter's bed.

"Well, I can't say too much I'm afraid, Poppy" -Madame Pomfrey nodded, it seemed she was used to not being told the full story around Hogwarts- "but Potter has been badly injured by the Dark Lord. I don't know what he was hit with."

"Right," said Madame Pomfrey, beginning work on Potter immediately, though with a look that clearly expressed her feelings that students shouldn't be allowed to fight Death Eater's battles. As she worked Draco told her quickly, almost hysterically, exactly what had happened to Potter and what he had done. She magicked off his robes, and immediately the extent of his injuries became all too apparent.

"Oh shit," Draco and Swan said together. Potter's white t-shirt was stained deep red with blood, and the shining patches showed it had not stopped bleeding yet.

"This won't be pretty," Madame Pomfrey warned. She tore off his shirt quickly but delicately. There was a deep gash across Potter's chest which continued down to his stomach, bleeding freely. She waved her wand and a bottle of bright blue potion appeared next to her. She took a piece of some material from her pocket and wet it with the contents of the bottle. She dabbed at his wound for what seemed like an age, working in silence, the blue liquid mixing with Potter's blood. Eventually the bleeding seemed to slow and she set the bottle down.

"We will have to leave it like that for now. That needs to be re-applied once every two hours. It can slow the bleeding. Whether it will stop the bleeding is another matter...Now, that's our main problem sorted...you say he was sick, Malfoy?"

Draco nodded, "He made a funny noise-I don't think he could breathe either."

"Oh dear...it sounds to me as though his blood has been poisoned. These are classic symptoms of a magical poison. It will be a slow acting poison, you need a physical application of poison for the it to work quickly, however this is much worse if it's slow acting, they only occur through wand magic and it's very complex to do...most magical poisons target the lungs first, so that'll be why he had difficulty breathing...they burn the lung tissue. Don't worry, Mr Malfoy, in time we can repair that. But the poison is in his blood. There's only one thing we can do for that, and it isn't nice."
"What is it?" asked Draco, trying desperately to stop his voice trembling.

Madam Pomfrey didn't answer, instead she ran to her office and came back a second later with a bottle of green liquid and a needle.

"What's that?"

"Pure Dragon's blood," she replied grimly. "Not nice when taken intravenously, but it must be done I'm afraid...it's the only way to take this stuff...one of the only things we learned from Muggles, this practice..."

"Will he be OK?" Draco asked in a chocked voice. "He'll make a complete recovery, won't he? Won't he?"

Swan put her arm around him, and he screwed up his eyes, 'Draco Malfoy doesn't cry' he told himself firmly.

"We're not sure, dear," said Madam Pomfrey. "We can only hope for the best. He is a very sick young man."

She injected the Dragon's blood into Potter's arm. It took effect straight away. He became even paler than before, if that were possible, and he began to shake as though he were freezing cold and moan softly.

"It will take a few more injections and at least a week before he's in any sort of decent state, if at all, I'm afraid. For now all we can do is make him as comfortable as possible."

She laid a white sheet over his torso, and magicked it up so it did not touch his wound. The she spooned a small amount of pink liquid into his mouth after she had cleaned it free from vomit, to sooth his breathing.

Draco was reluctant to move from Potter, but had no choice as Swan held out his injured arm and Madam Pomfrey led them to a bed at the other and of the ward. She asked no questions, but managed to clean it up and mend it within minutes. As she fixed the bandage in place she said, "You won't be able to move it freely for at least a few days. I'd like you to stay here tonight"

"But- I- I can't!"

"You have no choice, I'm afraid, Mr Malfoy, you can and you will stay here. I'm sorry."

"Madam Pom-"

"Draco," Swan interrupted, "I would like you to stay here. You can go back to your dormitory tomorrow, OK? I need to have a word with you, too, if you're OK with that?"

Draco nodded sulkily, and glanced over at Potter's bed, which was being enclosed fully by the curtains by Madam Pomfrey, who then retired to her office, saying to Swan, "Good night, Professor."

"Night, Poppy," Swan replied. "Now, Draco. I did say before that I was furious, and I am. But no one need know, unless absolutely necessary. Did anyone see you?"

"No. No one knew we were there. No one made any sign they did, anyway."

"Good. We can tell a few.... white lies, then, to cover up the injuries. I will not punish you, Draco, because I think you being stuck in here with a bad arm, and your boyfriend fighting for his life is bad enough so-"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Draco said loudly. "He's-"

Swan raised her eyebrows. "Give me some credit, Draco! Look, don't be so panicky, it's only me who knows, and I don't think any less of you, OK?"

Draco nodded sullenly.

"As I was saying. I think that's punishment enough, so I won't be doing anything formal, not even points docked, or a detention. Now, I need you to tell me exactly what happened, tell me everything, no matter how bad it is."
It took all of his effort, but he told her everything. About how they had got there, the fight, the Muggle who was killed, the two Death Eaters and Snape, and how the Aurors had come to Duel with the Death Eaters...then he told her about the swarms of people, and how it was then that he got injured. As he got to the part where he and Potter had escaped and rounded the corner to find Voldemort there, his throat became stuck.

"Who was there, Draco?" Swan coaxed him softly.

"Him," he said. "The Dark Lord."

"What happened?"

Draco had tears in his eyes now, but he brushed them away angrily with his good hand. He told her what Voldemort had said to the woman, as much of it as he could remember, and then how he had just killed her.

Swan's mouth was open in disgust. "Who was it? Do you know?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm not sure...but I know who I think it was. I think she was related to Seamus Finnegan."

"No," Swan said, choked by emotion. "Jane? Jane Finnegan?"

"Who?"

"Jane Finnegan," she repeated. "Seamus' older sister. She's an Auror, but for the last year she's been in the Order-her family didn't know, of course, they believed Dumbledore had gone barmy last year, so she couldn't tell them...but now you're telling me he just killed her, just like that?"
Draco nodded, feeling desperately sorry for her. "She was your friend?"

"One of my best friends. We were in the same year at school-both in Gryffindor."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, let's not talk about that now," she tried to compose herself as she went on. "We're going to have to do something about that Arch. At least one good thing came of tonight-we know why it's there. I'll need to tell Dumbledore. I'll try my best to make it sound like you weren't there...This is vital information...anyway, go on Draco."

"And then...then my...Father.... turned up. The fucking bastard. He brought a child. They wanted to torture it. They were going to, but-Oh God! It's my entire fault! I made to go for my Father-I don't know what I wanted to do but I ran at him! Potter tried to stop me, but I wouldn't let him! We got between them and Voldemort cast the spell, and most of it hit Potter! They didn't know he was there because the kid got some of it-Oh shit it's my fault!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco, none of it's your fault."

"But if I hadn't-"

"Enough, Draco. Tell me what happened then?"

"We managed to get us away from them, and back here."

"How?"

"How what?" he said innocently.

"You know what I mean. How did you get back here?"

Draco thought of not replying but knew it would be no good. "I've got a Corden."

"What?! Draco, how the hell did you get one of those? They're very dark objects! And how do you know how to use it?"

"My Father. I'd never used it before, that's why we arrived half way up the astronomy tower... and I hated having to do it, but it was the only way."

"Bloody Hell...how many people know you have it?"

"Just my Father. He thinks it's locked in my safe at home. I took out of there when I realised the Dark Lord was near me. I've carried it round ever since."

Swan shook her head. "This is unbelievable," she mused. "I'm not going to confiscate it, but I want you to promise me that you won't use it again, OK? Unless it's absolutely essential. Promise? I'm putting a lot of trust into you, and some would say unwisely."

Draco nodded. "Don't worry. I'm not going to use it again in a hurry."

"Good. Now get some rest, Draco. You can go back to the main school tomorrow after Madam Pomfrey's seen you. Good night Draco, and I want to thank you, too. You're a very brave young man- so is Harry."

"Yeah...brave maybe...but even more thick."

Swan smiled, but did not reply as she left the Hospital Wing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had been let out into the main school, as promised, the next day. He walked through the corridors towards the direction of the Great Hall, ignoring the people bustling around him, with Gryffindors giving him hateful looks as usual, and Slytherins pestering him about why he had bandages on his arm. When he reached the entrance to the Great Hall, the first thing he saw was Crabbe and Goyle sitting at the Slytherin table, clearly at al loss for what to do without Draco there.

"Sod it, then," Draco muttered. He turned sharply and walked as fast as he could towards the Slytherin common room. When he muttered the password and stepped into the deserted room it did nothing to improve his bad mood. This room was everything he used to stand for, the hatred, the violence, and the arrogance that used to be his whole life. Now, however it signified everything he hated, with its cold furniture, and grand designs. He strode across it quickly and down the staircase towards his dormitory, where he flopped onto his bed.

He couldn't believe the trouble he and Potter were in. What had they been thinking, following Snape like that? And how would Swan cover up the injuries of himself and Potter, and at the same time make up a story as to why she knew about Voldemort's conversation with Jane Finnegan? It just wasn't possible, no one concealed anything from Dumbledore for long...

His mind wandered back up to the Hospital Wing where Potter was still fighting for his life. That wasn't exactly what Madam Pomfrey had told him as he left, but it was close enough; Potter was treading a very fine line between life and death. He hadn't been able to see Harry; Madam Pomfrey hadn't let him get too close. He'd only caught a glimpse of him through the gap in the curtains as she went in to reapply the blue potion. From what Draco had seen the bleeding still hadn't stopped and Potter was laying very still, his breathing not even obvious. His eyes had been closed and his lips were deep purple, his skin a very pale white as though he were made of wax. Draco knew he wouldn't have been able to bear watching any longer, even if the curtains hadn't been closed suddenly.

He hadn't dared to ask how he was, for one thing he dreaded the answer, what Madam Pomfrey told him was enough information, and for another, the last thing he needed was people getting suspicious; it was a very well known fact that Potter and Draco were enemies, and Madam Pomfrey was a very intelligent woman. Draco knew she would work something out sooner or later.

He buried his face in his hands and tried not to think of Potter's state right now. He was as positive as he could be in that situation, but still his mind flashed the image of him lying as though he were dead in that bed before his eyes.

Once again he felt the tears pricking his eyes, and this time he did nothing to stop them. Their warmth as they coursed down his cheeks was comforting. He remembered Swans words, "your boyfriend". That's what he was. Potter was his boyfriend. Draco knew he was in love with Potter, but until now he had had no idea how much love he felt for the boy. Potter was the only thing he could truly say he loved, and now he was suffering so much the feelings became more pronounced.

What if he goes? Draco asked himself. What if he dies? He's all I've got, without him there is nothing for me... He had always told himself that Potter didn't really care about him, and that, to Potter, this relationship was just a bit of fun, but he had always been able to overlook that fact, because as long as Draco had Potter, it would be OK.

And now I'm going to lose him.... he thought bitterly. Waves of guilt were breaking over Draco like waves.... he could not shake off the feeling that it was all his fault.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the roof of his bed through a haze of tears, lost in thought. After a while, with no thought to his lessons, he felt himself sinking into slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione looked along the table at the hordes of students shouting and yelling as they ate their breakfast. Still Harry was nowhere to be seen. She had wanted to speak to him that morning, to see how he was, but when she had entered his dormitory he was not there. Assuming he was already at breakfast she had raced down to the Great Hall. Now she knew he wasn't here, she realised he had no choice. She turned to Ron, who was sitting next to her, concentrating hard on the bowl of porridge in front of him.

"Ron?" she tried not to sound nervous.

"Mmm?"

"Er.... I was just wondering...have you seen...um...have you seen Harry toady?"

Ron froze for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Who?" he asked innocently, with a defiantly cold note in his voice.

Hermione glared at him for a moment, anger swelling up inside her, but before she could say anything there were hurried footsteps behind her.

"Miss Granger," panted a voice. Hermione turned to see who it was.

Professor McGonagall was wheezing slightly, as though she had run from the other side of the school.

"Professor?" she asked.

"I need you to come with me, Miss Granger, it's urgent. Never mind about your classes, girl, come on!"

Hermione had been spluttering but was silenced at McGonagall's words. "What is it Professor?"

"It's Potter. Come on, Mr Weasley, I want you there too, it involves you, after all you are his best frie-"

Ron stood up suddenly, knocking a goblet over. "I have to get to Charms," he said shortly.

McGonagall stared at his rapidly retreating back, looking as though she would dearly like to call him back to shout at him.

"They fell out, Professor," Hermione said weakly.

McGonaghall looked at her quizzically for a moment and then sighed. "Come on then, Miss Granger..." she said resignedly and led the way out of the hall. As they passed the end of the Griffindor table Hermione caught sight of a small red-haired figure, breakfasting alone. Her hand shot out and grabbed the girl's arm.

"Wha-?"

"Shhh! Ginny, shh, I think you'd better come with us," Hermione said. She knew McGonagall would not protest.

They were led to the Hospital Wing, walking quickly and in silence. McGonagall stopped outside the Hospital Wing door, her hand resting on the handle.

"No..." Hermione said, suddenly, understanding. "No...please, don't tell me he's-"

"I'm sorry, girls, this will be a bit of a nasty shock. Last night Potter was injured. We're not sure how yet but his injuries are very serious indeed. He's not in a good way. Do you want to go inside?"

Hermione nodded. Ginny said, "Is he conscious?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

They entered the ward together and saw the curtains around the bed closest to Madam Pomfrey's office.

"I'm going to have to leave you, girls, I have a class to teach. Professor Jupiter is free, she is with Potter at the moment, she will stay with you for now."

They started to walk towards the concealed bed slowly, dreading what they would see when they reached it. They heard the door behind them close, and looked at each other, the dread clearly etched on their faces. Hermione reached out and took Ginny's hand, and squeezed it tightly. As they reached the end of the ward Swan appeared around the curtains, her expression sombre.

"Hi girls, look I need to explain something before you see him." Without preamble she began her, slightly modified, version of events in a quiet, hurried voice. "Last night Harry managed to get involved in a fight between Voldemort's Death Eaters and Aurors. It was Voldemort's first raid since he came back, it shows us he is ready to truly reveal himself to the world as what he is. Potter was injured by the Dark Lord. As you can imagine his injuries are very serious, and Madam Pomfrey is doing all she can to make him well."

"How bad is it?" Hermione asked after a while. She had toyed with the idea of asking for more details about the events of last night, but somehow got the idea that Swan wouldn't be willing to tell her.

"It's very serious I'm afraid. Touch-and-go. No one can tell what's going to happen yet, we'll just have to see."

"Can we see him then?" asked Ginny, her voice uneven.

"Of course but I must warn you it's not good."

She was right. As Hermione and Ginny stepped around the curtains they gasped in horror, and Hermione had to swallow hard to stop herself from retching. Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth.

Harry was not moving, and looked as though he were more dead than alive. The blanket that covered his wound had been pulled back, and the wound was still bleeding freely.

"I'm really, really sorry girls."

They sank into chairs, too shocked to say a word.

The door of the Hospital Wing banged open again and two pairs of footsteps made their way over towards Potter's bed. Swan rose and went out to see whom it was.

"Ah...Professor Dumbledore, Severus," she said, somewhat coldly.

"Hello Swan," Dumbledore's voice was grave, "I received your owl. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. But not-"

"And Professor Snape is here because he needs to speak to Madam Pomfrey about one of his students, who was injured last night."

"Right," Swan said stiffly. There was a pause, and then Snape's footsteps moved towards Madam Pomfrey's office. Swan and Dumbledore did not speak audibly again for a while. Snape knocked on Madam Pomfrey's door.

"Yes? Oh, it's you Severus. I need you to fill in this form for Mr Draco Malfoy...just routine."
Ginny and Hermione heard a scratching of a quill on parchment. Then-

"What happened to him?"

"He came in last night to see me. His arm was injured. From what I can gather, Mr Crabbe had a bad dream and happened to snatch up his wand in his sleep...the result was a serious gash in Mr Malfoy's arm."

Swan coughed.

"Hardly surprising, the boy can barely spell his own name," Snape said smoothly. "How bad are his injuries?"

"Not too serious. He'll be fine in a day or two."

Seconds later they heard his footsteps leave the Hospital Wing. After a small pause Dumbledore stepped around the curtains, followed by Swan. He did not seem surprised to see Hermione and Ginny with Harry.

"Good morning, ladies," he said pleasantly.

He turned to look at Harry, a serious expression on his face. "We can only wait...." He said quietly. "Swan, I need you to tell me. It is vital."

Swan avoided his eyes.

"Miss Granger and Miss Weasley know what has happened to Potter, I presume?"
Swan nodded.

"Then we can conduct this urgent conversation in their presence. Swan, please."

"But he trusts me. I can't-"

"I do not ask you to tell me everything. As long as I am told what I need then that will be enough. He will not be punished once he is better" -his voice faltered slightly here, but he carried on- "nor will any mention of this incident ever be made again. I will not ask more than is necessary."

Swan looked at her Uncle. She knew the best thing was to tell him, she knew that he needed the information Draco had told her. But she had made a promise, not only to Harry, but to Draco too. She had also told them she would think of a cover story- but even when she had told them that she knew it would not be possible.

"Swan?"

"OK, OK. I'm really sorry Harry... OK, what happened..." she sat down. "He managed to follow...someone," -Dumbledore nodded to show he understood that by "someone" she meant "Snape"- "he was with him when he travelled to the village. You know the details of what happened, but Potter was caught up in it all, under James' cloak. He stumbled upon Voldemort and Jane Finnegan..." she recited everything Draco had told her the night before, about what Voldemort had told Jane before killing her. And then how Lucius Malfoy had brought a child to be slaughtered by Voldemort but part of the spell had hit Harry.

"I see," said Dumbledore. "Thank you, Swan, as you know that information will be vital to the Order. I will thank Harry for his bravery when he wakes." He seemed to place special emphasis on the word "when", determined to show himself and everyone else that he believed Potter would recover. He asked no more questions, nothing about how Swan knew what Potter had heard, how he had got back, or even how she had found him.

"Thank you, Swan," he said.

She nodded, as he turned to leave. "Get well, Harry," he muttered as he left. He waved his wand and immediately the voices outside the perimeter of the curtains became oddly muffled.

At that point Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, brandishing another needle full of green liquid and another cloth, to try and uphold Dumbledore's belief.