Not Just an Empty Emotion

Chapter 18-Helpless

Harry had been in the Hospital Wing for four days now, and was still showing no obvious signs of recovery. He hadn't moved, or opened his eyes, and though the wound had, at last, stopped bleeding it wasn't even starting to heal. Hermione and Ginny had been visiting him every day (Ron refused to listen to them when they tried to tell him that Harry was in the hospital wing, even when Ginny had cursed him in her frustration, and Hermione had screamed at him that he was a "selfish, pathetic bigot with stupid opinionated views"). Their visits were in vain, however, as talking to Harry was useless, and there was never any change in his state. They would sit in awkward silence for perhaps an hour each night, leaving only when Harry was given another dose of Dragon's Blood, or when one of them voiced what the other was thinking, that their time would be better spent persuading Ron to listen to them, which at least they got a reaction out of even if it wasn't pleasant.

Swan Jupiter also visited Harry daily, between classes, or late in the evening. She would talk to Madam Pomfrey and question her endlessly about his health, but the answer was always the same: "No change."

On the fifth night Jupiter, Hermione and Ginny were all with Harry together. As usual they sat in silence, staring at Harry, willing him to move, or make some sign that he knew they were there. But it was, as ever, hopeless. They were effectively staring at a corpse.

Madam Pomfrey came round the curtains, which were still up, to check on Harry.

"Has there been any-" Swan began.

"No. No change," Madam Pomfrey said softly, sadness in her voice. "It's been five days..."

"What does that mean, Madam Pomfrey?" Ginny asked. "Is it good that there's been no change, or bad?"

The answer did not come immediately, and when it did, Madam Pomfrey sounded as though she would really rather not say. "With injuries like this it is generally said that no news, is good news. So no change is good. However," she was choosing her words carefully, "in Harry's case he has so many injuries, and possibly there are things wrong with him that we have been unable to discover yet...it could go either way. If his condition worsens it will be sudden. If he begins to get better we probably won't notice it until he wakes up. I'm sorry, but there is really no more I can tell you. It is just a waiting game, one way of the other."

Ginny nodded. She knew what Madam Pomfrey was meant, even if she didn't say it directly: with each day that passed it looked less and less likely that Harry would recover. They were all beginning to give up hope, though they kept up a brave front.

"Come on girls," Swan said heavily after a while. "We're not doing anyone any good by being here."

They got up in unison and followed Swan out of the ward silently, feeling worse than they had done when they had come in. It looked as though any hope that Harry would wake up was fading fast.

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

Draco listened to the conversation at the Slytherin table in hateful silence. He did not move, nor did he trust himself to speak. His face was white with fury, and he was gritting his teeth, willing himself not to react. In his mind, however, were insults and truths he was longing to spit out at those who surrounded him.

"-Potter's still not here! In the Hospital Wing with Dragon Pox my arse!" Pansy Parkinson screeched along the table.

"Yeah," said Millicent Bulstrode enthusiastically, "more likely he's got a spot he wants no one to see, just in case it makes him look bad!"

"Not hard..." grunted Theodore Nott, to much self-indulgent laughter along the whole length of the table.

Draco had heard enough. He stood up furiously, trying to make his face blank, as usual- to get the mask, which so often fell these days, back over his face. He turned and began to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going, Draco? You've got to come to-" asked Goyle bemusedly.

"I haven't got to go anywhere!" he snapped. "I'm going to bed. I feel sick."

It was true, but it was because of what they'd been saying and also...his worry about Potter...

He walked out of the Great Hall and headed down the steps towards the common room, almost in a trance. He passed the door to the room where he and Potter had had many a confrontation and stopped suddenly.

He opened the door and went inside, welcoming it's cool air. He leant against the wall, his eyes closed. Being here made him feel close to Potter, and here he could remember the sweet ecstasy of simply being with Potter, and those times they'd kissed.... the times they'd touched each other.

The memories may have been perfect, but Draco felt lost and scared as he realised that if Potter died then he would have no one to turn to. He couldn't talk to anyone else. Potter had almost become a part of him, and that part was being wrenched away from him unsympathetically...

They'd never speak again, let alone act as a couple.

Draco turned suddenly and kicked the wall as hard as he could, yelling in fear as he did so. He wrenched the door open again, and ran as fast as he could down the unlit corridors towards the common room.

*

Draco always hated going to Snape's extra lessons. It was Thursday and 7.00pm and he was sitting alone, detached from everyone else as usual, at the back of the dungeon while the others chatted noisily whilst waiting for Snape. Snape was always late- Draco knew it was just to make a point.

The door banged open and in strode Snape, looking even surlier than usual, if it were at all possible. He took a seat behind his desk and turned to face them all.

"Mr Malfoy, stop being ridiculous come and sit at the front. Such childish behaviour, to distance yourself deliberately..."

Draco stood up resentfully and moved to the front. He didn't want to be with anyone else, he had more important things on his mind than Potions, why was everybody always trying to force him to do things he didn't want to do, and at time when he really didn't want to do them? He really didn't need this right now... it was as though they were trying to make him miserable deliberately.

Hermione Granger moved her bag from the place next to her, looking questioningly at him. He hesitated for a moment. The other option was to sit next to Pansy Parkinson. He took the seat next to Hermione and said, "Thanks" awkwardly. He didn't know why she'd done it. She hated him, and he hated her- it was a well-known fact. So why was she behaving as though she were his friend?

Snape caught his eye as he looked up. It was only a split second but Draco was certain there was something different in the way his Head of House looked at him. He wasn't sure what it was, it was somewhere between fury, wonder, and confusion. Almost as if Snape knew that Harry had got his injuries from the raid...and almost as if he knew Draco had been there too...

"Well," Snape's quiet voice snapped, bringing Draco round to the lesson, "as Mr Potter seems to be otherwise occupied fighting off....ah...Dragon Pox, we are one less today. We will be studying the effects of Thestral hide in potions such as the...."

*

"You were there, too, weren't you?"

He jumped. He had been the last to leave the dungeon and hadn't know anyone was there. "What? Oh, it's you."

"You were there," Ginny repeated as she stepped out from behind the door. "When You-Know-Who got Harry."
Draco didn't reply.

"I hope you're worth it, Malfoy I really do."

"Weasley, unless you've got anything constructive to say then shut up," he snapped. "It's not just you who cares, you know."

Ginny looked at him quizzically, a slightly surprised look in her eyes, but said nothing.

"What's with Granger?"

"What do you mean?"

"She was...nice...to me. Why?"

"Because, contrary to what you might think she isn't a horrible person."

"Does she know? About me and Potter?"

"No. But she knows something's wrong with you."

"There' nothing wrong with-!"

"There is. Since you and Harry followed Snape you've looked ill. And Hermione and I have both noticed how you are around the Slytherins."

Draco nodded but said nothing. He had dreaded Potter telling his friends about him being gay, but from all accounts Granger hadn't cared about it. Judging from that and her performance today maybe- just maybe- if the time ever came that Harry would have to tell her about Draco, it wouldn't be too bad. The only thing was troubling him now was if that time would ever come...

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

The only sounds were outside of the windows; occasionally the wind would cause a tree to creak eerily, or an owl would hoot indignantly if it were caught by the rain, which was falling heavily. Inside the Hospital Wing there was nothing but a peaceful silence. The only person in the room was in the end bed, closest to the Matron's office. He was totally still, with only his head and shoulders visible because of a white sheet covering him. His eyes were closed and his skin was pale. His lips were blue.

He may as well have been dead.

Suddenly the doors at the end of the Ward opened silently. A figure stood framed in the dim light of the outside corridor. It stood and looked around for a moment, before entering the ward and closing the doors behind it. It walked slowly up to the occupied bed, almost as if it were scared of what it would find when it got there. It hesitated for a moment when it got close to the bed, but strode up to it determinedly.

What he saw when he got there nearly made him walk right back away again. It was horrible. He had never seen anything more sad in his life. Harry Potter lying stock-still.... though he still looked beautiful.

He moved closer and reached out as though to touch Potter's body through the sheet but stopped short. He didn't dare. Instead he knelt down next to the bed. Now he was this close he could just make out Potter's shallow breathing.

"So you're still alive," he muttered.

He stayed knelt by the bed for a long while, staring at Potter's young, innocent face, wiling the eyes to open. But they didn't. Just visible above the sheet, and in stark contrast to the pure white, was the top of the deep red gash on Potter's torso, still open. He shivered when he looked at it. It was the same colour as the scar that burned on the boy's forehead. This scar was the only thing that made him look alive.

"I had to come... I'm sorry...it's my fault..." he whispered eventually, standing up to go. He turned slowly and was about to leave when he changed his mind. He turned back hesitantly and reached out slowly. This time his shaking fingers did touch Potter's arm under the bed sheets. His other hand rubbed tears from his cheeks furiously. He bent over Potter.

He had come to say goodbye.

"I'm so sorry", he whispered. His voice was almost inaudible. "I love you."

He moved closer to Potter and looked at his face one last time before bending over and kissing his cold blue lips softly. "Goodbye."

Without looking at Potter, for he didn't feel he could, he turned away at last and walked sombrely towards the doors again.

The voice was weak, but still it spoke...and he heard it. "Malfoy...Malfoy...!"

He stopped in his tracks. He didn't dare believe it...yet it had sounded so clear....Potter had definitely said his name...

He turned at looked at the bed, his heart hammering. Still Potter wasn't moving.

"Malfoy!" his voice was weaker than even before.

Malfoy stared in disbelief for a few moments and then ran, as fast as he could, back towards Madam Pomfrey's office.

"No..." said Potter. "No...Malfoy...I need...talk..."

Mafloy stopped helplessly. He didn't know what to do; he was torn between getting Madam Pomfrey, as he knew he should, and going to speak to Potter.

"Please, Malfoy."

He walked cautiously to Potter's bed.

"Thank you..."

"Potter, you need Madam Pomfrey- she needs to know you're awake!"

"No, I don't think I'll be away for long...need to speak to you...to.... thank you..."

"No," Draco shook his head firmly. "No, you can't thank me. There's nothing to thank me for, it's my fault you're like this-!"

"Shh...no...not...I want to say...thank you...for...getting me back...for waking me up..." Draco was still shaking his head, but Harry went on regardless, determined to say all he wanted to before he was stopped even though it seemed to take all of his energy to keep on speaking. "...and for...being there...for being my friend...for helping me...you made me...happy...thank you..."

He stopped talking and rested his eyes upon Draco's face. He was still looking deathly. Draco looked at him for a moment longer, undecided on whether to be happy that Potter had woken up, emotional at what he'd just heard, or terrified that Potter was right and that he wouldn't be awake for much longer...

He snapped back to his senses suddenly; he ran to Madam Pomfrey's office, not caring that she would know he was here in the middle of the night, visiting his worst enemy. He hammered on the door until she came to it, looking slightly disgruntled.

"What?" she demanded, sleepily.

"It's Potter-he's awake, he opened his eyes and spoke to me-!"

She pushed past him and raced to Potter's bed, bending over him.

Draco hung back. He was scared.

"Malfoy," she called, "go and get Professor Jupiter and Professor Dumbledore, quickly!"

*

He returned ten minutes later, with Dumbledore and Swan at his heels.

"Poppy?" Dumbledore asked at once. "How is he?" He strode over to the bed and began to converse with Madam Pomfrey in hurried whispers.

Swan turned to Draco. "What happened, Draco?"

Draco told her. He was glad that she didn't ask why he was visiting in the middle of the night. When he had finished she pulled him into a swift hug.

"Poppy's doing everything she can for him. If anyone can help him now, it's her."

He nodded mutely, his eyes fixed on Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore.

Five minutes later Madam Pomfrey turned to the room at large.

"Well," she said breathlessly, "he is still very sick but with the right potions and treatment there is no reason why he shouldn't make a full recovery."

Draco sank onto the nearest bed in relief.

"Thank God," Swan breathed.

"Thank you, Poppy. Admirable work," Dumbledore said. "But now, I think, bed for us all, now that we know Mr Potter is going to be OK. Goodnight." And he turned and left the room. Madam Pomfrey said goodnight, too, and retired to her own office, leaving Swan and Draco alone.

"Come on," said Swan, "bed."
"Oh, but Swan can't I-"

"No, Draco. I'm sorry. You have to get to bed. You can visit him tomorrow-during the day."

Despite himself he smiled sheepishly and allowed himself to be escorted out of the room with one last look back at the form of Potter, lying peacefully in his bed.

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

"What?" Ginny mouthed impatiently across the Great Hall to Malfoy.

He pointed outside and held up 10 fingers to represent "Meet me outside in 10 minutes."

"Fine," she mouthed back. She didn't want to do it, but something about the look on his face made her curious.

A few minutes later she saw him stand up, and walk out of the Hall, looking pointedly at her. She gave him a few minutes and then followed. He was across the Hall, standing in the open doorway of the room McGonagall had taken her too when she had first arrived at Hogwarts. She walked over and he pulled her inside and shut the door hurriedly. She frowned at him.

"What, Malfoy? What the hell's all this about?" she demanded impatiently.

"Potter," he said at once. "He's awake."

"What?! How do you know? When? Is he OK? What happened?"

"Calm down, not too many questions at once! He should be fine, he just needs the right treatment and potions and stuff... Madam Pomfrey said to give it a week before he's strong enough to sit up and in a few weeks he should be out in the main school. It happened at 1am this morning and...I know because...well...I was there," he admitted, feeling slightly guilty.

"What?" Ginny said dangerously. "Why where you there?"

"I had to see him. I needed to...I wasn't sure if..." he trailed off, not sure of how to finish his sentences..

Ginny didn't speak for a moment. "Thanks."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"I said 'Thanks'," she repeated. "For being there. For letting me know, for caring about him and...for not being a bastard. When can I go and see him?"

"Tonight, but Madam Pomfrey says no more than two people in there at once. And he'll probably be asleep."

She nodded. "Thanks Malfoy. Have a good day." She turned to leave, but at the last minute looked at Draco and gave him a swift hug before snatching up her bad from the floor and hurrying away to tell Hermione.

Draco simply stood, sunned at what had just happened, in the middle of the empty chamber before he remembered he was due in Potions.