FicWad

Harry hated Apparating and was sure he always would. The sensation of ones lungs compressing along with the rest of his body was not something he ever wished to get used to. Regardless of how much time it saved, it was a completely wretched way to travel. He was still gripping Tonks' arm when he managed to draw in a full, sharp breath of fresh air. It sounded as if she was trying very hard not to laugh, and as he released her arm, he did catch a slight smile on her lips.

"You get used to it," Tonks offered, stepping up to knock on what Harry soon recognized as the back door to the Burrow. She didn't wait for an answer, instead, she removed her wand from her back pocket and gave the door a tap. Harry supposed the door would only open for a select few wizards and witches. A magical signature of sorts likely had something to do with this. Regardless, the door had swung open before a second tap was necessary. A sleepy looking witch in a flowery, pink, dressing gown was there to intercept them. "Oh, Nymphadora," she yawned, holding to edge of the door to keep it open as Tonks entered, ushering Harry in before her.

The Burrow was dimly lit, several lamps were all that illuminated the individuals still awake. Harry looked around, deciding that this looked to be more of a resting-place than an actual base. From what he could see of the next room there were camp beds and pallets spread out where they were needed. Eight or so, wizards seemed to be on this floor: five of which, he supposed, were asleep. Other than the tired older witch closing the door and trudging back to bed, Fred and George were at the kitchen table. They seemed to be sorting through a rather large pile of letters that were spread out between the two of them. Regardless of their evident workload, both abandoned the task at hand as they took notice of Harry.

"Harry," Fred called in a hushed tone, smiling and motioning their former schoolmate over.

Tonks nodded when Harry hesitated. "I want to find Lupin before we do anything, go on. I'll just be a minute."

Harry watched her disappear up the stairway with a slight pang of disappointment. Fred and George were his friends, but at the moment he was far too nervous to carry on any sort of light hearted conversation.

"Oi!" George leaned over the table, motioning extravagantly. "Harry!" he hissed a bit louder.

There was no way around this. Harry gave in and went to the table, taking the seat Fred pulled out for him. He remained seated on the edge. His subconscious was very uneasy about the matter of getting comfortable. There were more important things to do right now than relax.

"You're here because of that little git upstairs, right?" George had taken a seat again and was shoving some of the papers before him into a hasty, sloppy semblance of a stack.

Harry wasn't sure he had any right to insult Malfoy at the moment, and there was a noticeable pause before he nodded the affirmative. The twins seemed to pick up on his discomfort. Fred's tone was almost apologetic when he spoke up again, "We just don't see why he's here at all."

George shook his head. "It's because they knew Mum would be the only one who would take him." He handed a letter across the table to his twin.

"Mum's too nice for her own good. She just won't accept it when someone is no good," Fred concluded, taking the envelope from his brother.

Harry knew that Fred probably hadn't been referring to Malfoy then as much as his older brother, Percy. It seemed everyone but Molly had given up all hope for rekindling that relationship. Even Harry had to agree that this was a waste of time. Percy hadn't even been present at Bill and Fleur's wedding, which had been quite lovely and taken place over the summer. Of course, this was also one of the last things on his mind.

This was never a very pleasant subject for anyone and George didn't hesitate to change it. "How's Ron?"

So they didn't know the details behind why Malfoy was here. Harry didn't care to fill them in. "He's fine," he said quietly, leaving the matter at that and continuing to wait rather impatiently. He glanced back to the staircase Tonks had taken. This was making him uneasy. Had they been too late? Of course they weren't too late. Harry dismissed the notion and looked back to the twins, attempting to lighten the mood marginally. "What are all those?" he asked, motioning to the pile of letters.

"Orders," Fred held up a clipboard full of product names, customers, and a great deal of sloppy checks and scribbling along the corners.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes hasn't gotten much business since the war took off," George elaborated, ripping open the next envelope.

"There's still a big demand for our Defense Against the Dark Arts lines though. We're actually making more money than ever on mail orders alone." Despite his words, Fred didn't seem very pleased. Both twins clearly missed their shop in Diagon Alley and Harry couldn't blame them. There were countless good memories he could associate with the Burrow but this wouldn't be one of them.

"Harry."

Harry looked over his shoulder immediately after hearing his name called from the vicinity of the staircase. Tonks was there and motioning him in her direction. As Harry stood, the twins went back to the business of sorting letters. "Try to talk Mum into going to bed if you can," George whispered.

"We tried to convince her that we'd watch him for a while, but she doesn't trust us." Fred faced the table again.

"I wouldn't trust us much either, but she might listen to you." George leaned his head into his hand and continued scribbling along the product names on his clipboard. Harry received something of a nasty shock as he realized that even Fred and George were beginning to feel the effects of this war. Given how quiet it was presently, they should have been disrupting the peace. At the moment, they didn't even seem to be in good spirits, much less in any mood to draw the rest of the house into their usual antics. Suddenly, Harry was very hesitant to see any other occupants of the Burrow right now.

Harry crossed the room, and went to Tonks. The sound of the stairs creaking slightly under his steps was louder than ever before though not louder than the pounding of his own heart. "How is he?" he asked before he had even reached her. The look on Tonks' face told him that he wouldn't receive the worst of responses, but he wasn't about to hear anything especially pleasant either.

"Remus said he's awake but in a rotten mood." Tonks moved back onto the second floor landing as Harry reached her. The look of surprise on his face was apparent.

"He's awake?" Harry felt his breathing ease slightly. The fact that he was still conscious was a good sign, wasn't it? Tonks could have exaggerated the severity of the situation earlier. Even if it wasn't likely, it was something to hope for.

Tonks led the way to a door Harry recognized as leading into Percy's old bedroom. "Make sure to close the door behind you. The room was sound proofed for a reason Harry."

Harry put his hand on the door handle then looked back to Tonks slightly alarmed. "You aren't coming in?"

"Oh no." Nymphadora shook her head and hands to emphasize this fact. "I have to get back to my own camp. So I'll see you around, Harry."

With a nod, he wished her a safe goodbye and opened the door. The reason for a sound proofed room was all too evident. The greeting he was met with on the other side was a glass shattering just to the right of his head. Harry hastily shoved the door back and leaned against it until it clicked shut. It was barely in place when he heard a familiar voice. "Get out!" The room was much too dark for Harry to see anything. The only light came from two wands on opposite sides of the room. It struck Harry as odd that not even a lamp was lit right now.

"Oh, not again." Mrs. Weasley's voice was not without hints of exasperation as the short, plump woman made her way from the bed to Harry. "For Merlin's sake. I'm surprised the window's held up as long as it has - Repairo - Honestly...oh Harry, dear."

Lifting his eyes from the sight of the glass on the floor fusing itself back together, he looked to the shadowed face of Mrs. Weasley. Even in this darkness, he could see how exaggerated the lines on her face seemed all of a sudden. The twins were right. She did need rest, though it would undoubtedly take a great deal of effort to convince her of that. "Tonks brought me here. I can-" He was interrupted by a flurry of rather vulgar exclamations from the bed. He could see the shape of a person there, squirming slightly in apparent disgust. It seemed Malfoy wasn't pleased with his arrival.

"I know dear. Nymphadora already told us to expect you." Molly replaced the glass on the nightstand as she went back to the bed.

Harry looked to the other lit wand to see who 'us' was. He was marginally pleased to see Lupin sitting in a ratty looking wing-back chair a few steps away. The remains of a lamp were on the table beside him, and Harry noticed immediately that he looked even more weary than Mrs. Weasley. "Do you want me to fix that?" he asked, unsure of what else there was to be said. It seemed his help wasn't as urgently needed as he had assumed.

Lupin only shook his head. "Thank you Harry, but there's no use in that. It has already been fixed four times."

"And counting," Mrs. Weasley added, stifling a yawn as she took a seat in a chair near the headboard.

Harry noted that Draco wasn't complaining anymore. Malfoy never had "nothing" to say. Even if it wasn't potentially deadly, there was indeed something very wrong with him if he didn't even have the energy to protest any further regarding Harry's presence. "If either of you want to rest I'll stay with him for a little while."

It was evident that Mrs. Weasley was about to object, but Lupin beat her to a response, "We aren't helping him, Molly. I'm sure Harry would be far more useful right now than either of us are. We could both use the rest."

For a moment it seemed Mrs. Weasley would still object. It was in her nature to be motherly to any youth that came to be stranded at the Burrow. She had been as much to Harry though he sincerely doubted Malfoy neither needed nor wanted any such thing. "You need to get back to your troops don't you?" Mrs. Weasley frowned and stood reluctantly. "All right, but you know where my bedroom is and Remus is just on the next floor."

Lupin stood as well, going to the door and lowering his voice once next to Harry "Try not to let him bother you. He just feels threatened here. I'm sure you would too if you were in his situation."

Harry wasn't quite so sure of that, but nodded in agreement. This seemed to be enough for both Lupin and Mrs. Weasley, who gave him a hug before leaving the room after his former teacher. As the door clicked shut again, Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he turned to face the bed. Drawing closer, he saw that Malfoy was facing the wall, as far away from Harry and the rest of the room as he could manage. This was more awkward than he could have imagined. For once, he didn't feel as if he had the right defend himself against anything Draco might have to say.

Wordlessly, Harry crossed the room, nearly running into the chair Mrs. Weasley had been seated in. He pulled the chair a little further away from the bed before taking a seat in it. "Do you mind if I turn on a lamp?"

"Yes," Malfoy said shortly, much to Harry's frustration. It was going to be a long night. "I hope you don't hover over me like Weasley's mother. That cow was nothing but a nuisance."

Harry could physically feel his sympathy for Draco lessening. "And here I thought you were a hostage. I think you're the last person who should be complaining about accommodations."

Draco snorted but didn't turn to face him. "That's right... I forgot you were the sort who would stay at a dump like this by choice."

It took a bit of effort for Harry to force himself to hold his tongue. "You're no in any shape to start something, Malfoy," he pointed out irritably, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms over his chest.

To his disappointment, Malfoy didn't seem discouraged. "You said it yourself, I'm a 'hostage'...If anyone is going to do anything to me it won't be you and it definitely won't be so soon." Even in a situation like this, his tone was nasty and condescending. Harry could have throttled him and really wasn't seeing any reason not to. Malfoy sounded tired and he couldn't see him well in this light but he was certainly still himself. Harry felt foolish for having ever been worried.

"I'm sure they're also under the impression you're injured," Harry grumbled, watching Draco's back gloomily. He was wearing a pair of pajamas Harry assumed must have belonged to one of the Weasley boys at one time. "Wouldn't want to disappoint them."

"If I'm all right then leave. I didn't want that cow around, I didn't want that idiot teacher around, and I still wanted their company more than yours. Get out, Potter." Malfoy's threats were empty. He was without his wand or either of his goons. The only damage he could do right now was verbal. Still, if he didn't want Harry's help, who was he to press his presence on him?


"Just shut it, Malfoy." Harry already wanted to leave but knew he couldn't, "I said I would baby-sit you and now I'm stuck here. Neither of us have a choice in the matter." Even in the dark, he could tell that this was angering him effectively now. He looked as if he wanted to get up but thought better of it. Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the shadows. He was sure his curse had hit Malfoy. What if he really was hurt? Harry wanted to see the wounds for himself, even if Malfoy wouldn't allow him a light. He stood as quietly as he could and leaned over the bed, doing his best not to make any noise. He could make out Malfoy's outline better by the slivers of glowing moonlight that made it from between the shutters of the window. He could tell that the other was curled up on his side. His blonde head was bowed down against the pillow, his hand and wrist against the side of his face so that it was obscured from Harry.

Unfortunately, he had barely shifted his weight to the edge of the mattress when Malfoy realized what was going on. "Get out!" He repeated only more urgent and panicked. Harry jumped back as the glass Mrs. Weasley had placed on the nightstand shattered once more. He gave a startled yelp as one of the shards grazed his cheek and stumbled back from the bed, crossing half the room in the process.

Harry put a hand to the side of his face. It took him a moment to catch his breath but when he did manage it. He was in a mood to rival Draco's. "Fine," he snapped, backing up the rest of the way to the door now. "I just hope they get you out of here soon. You're nothing but trouble to everyone here and I'm sure you can't wait to get home either. You're probably missing quality time with Voldemort already." Harry wasn't willing to give Draco the last word; though, he was sure he must have had something prepared. Instead, Harry opened the door and stepped out, closing it back in the matter of a moment.

Allowing his hand to linger on the door handle a little longer, Harry took another deep breath. He pressed his forehead to the door's cool surface for a moment, trying to sort this out. Going to get Lupin or Mrs. Weasley was out of the question though they would undoubtedly be angry with him for not staying the night with Malfoy. Was there any alternative other than going back in? Harry did have his pride to keep in tact, but there was also his word and going back on it at a time like this would only be an act of selfishness.

Then again, he had counted on Malfoy being unconscious. A wide-awake Draco was an entirely different responsibility and one he wasn't sure he could stomach sitting through. He should probably go downstairs to cool off before he thought this through any further.

Harry pulled himself away from the door only to have his heart leap into his throat as a hand gripped his shoulder. With a gasp he spun around, hand leaping to the wand in his pocket. He relaxed visibly when he realized that the person beside him in this cramped hallway was only Lupin. This relief was quickly dissipated as he realized he had just been caught abandoning the "post" he had only minutes ago offered to take. Quickly, he tried to sort out his words. "I was just going downstairs for a few minutes. I was going to come back." He wasn't sure if that was true, but he certainly hadn't decided against it just yet.

There was no need to make excuses however, Lupin didn't seem angry. In fact he looked as if he had expected this, as if he had been waiting here in the hallway for Harry all along. He nodded to Harry's wand hand before drawing his own wand. "Lumos." he said meaningfully. In the dull light, Lupin seemed to be smiling though he turned too quickly for Harry to be able to tell much else. There was definitely something different about him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. As the lit wand rose up the staircase, he was left alone with only these thoughts.

Harry looked to his own wand then back to the door. His mind worked the two over for a moment and he drew his wand before he could change his mind. "Lumos," Harry said quietly, opening the door once more, quietly this time. He made a point to close it back just as carefully, and watch his step as he moved back towards the bed. Malfoy was there as he had left him. He was still curled up on his side and seemingly oblivious to how close Harry was at the moment, even with his wand lit.

Silently, the young Gryffindor braced one hand against the wall as he leaned over the boy on the mattress. Beneath Draco's hand and stray wisps of white-blonde hair, Harry thought he could make out bandages. He would have to be closer though, and Malfoy would likely have to know he was here. It made sense that if he was going to alert the other to his presence, that he might as well catch him off his guard, and right now Draco was most certainly not paying his surroundings much attention.

Harry shifted his grip on his wand and used this same hand to grab Malfoy's shoulder, forcing the very startled youth onto his back. "Wh-" This was more of a startled exclamation than any sort of question. His free arm had gone immediately over his face in defense but Harry was practically on top of him now. Pinning down Draco's free arm was easier than he could have imagined with this sort of advantage. Just the same, Harry was thankful there was nothing left to break nearby. Though Malfoy was without a wand Harry could certainly feel just how powerful the negative emotions running through him right now were. With no outlet for similar energy, Harry had had his fair share of "magical accidents" around the Dursleys. Ignoring the possibility of more formidable hazards than exploding glasses, Harry forced Draco flat onto his back.

The light near the pillow was enough to make out details now. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the hazy dimness of the room, but he knew immediately that he had not been mistaken about the bandages. He felt his breath catch as he noticed the way they ran across Malfoy's face, covering both eyes completely. In the few moments Harry sat there startled, his grip on Draco's wrists also eased. The blonde beneath him didn't waste the opportunity.

As Malfoy pulled his arms away, he jerked to one side and out from under Harry. He made a mistake in attempting to get up, however. Unprepared for the pain the move undoubtedly caused him, Draco let out a sharp cry, which startled Harry enough to bring him completely to his senses. There was another short struggle as Harry forced the other back down. He readied his wand again, prepared to use some sort of spell to restrain him. Tonks' mention of the defensive magics surrounding Draco came to mind and he immediately thought better attempting anything magical. Harry resorted to using the bedsheets: tying the corners to Malfoy's wrists and sequentially the structure of the headboard.

It didn't surprise Harry that Malfoy hadn't the energy to fight, but it did worry him that the other seemed to have nothing to say in retaliation. Drawing the light from his wand closer he began to understand why Tonks had stressed the urgency of the situation. While Draco's features had always been sharp they seemed sharper now and his skin paler. Hesitantly, he raised his free hand to Malfoy's collar, unfastening the buttons there. When it seemed that the former Slytherin was still out of sorts, he continued.

The first thing Harry noticed, as he brought his wand closer for inspection, were more bandages. Though disgusted, he had used the spell three times and certainly wasn't surprised. The bandages seemed to be made of cloth. He supposed the Weasleys had no reason to use bandages for any extended period of time. Other than being a little bloodstained they seemed clean. There was one set running at a slant across his neck then down to his shoulder. The last of the gauze was the longest still, extending from his right shoulder to his left hip. Everyone here had done their best to dress the wounds despite their obvious lack of experience with the task.

The very next thing to catch Harry's attention was how thin Malfoy was now. Towards the end of their sixth year, Harry had noticed that Draco had looked sickly and had been losing weight. He had never stopped to think that the stress on Malfoy then must have been nothing compared to what he must have gone through this summer. It would take some convincing for Harry to believe that Malfoy was tough enough to be comfortable living amongst Death Eaters.

It didn't take long at all for Harry to succumb to curiosity. As he reached forward Malfoy began to stir, evidently able to come to his senses now. He still wasn't well enough to really protest though, only managing to pull futilely against his restraints and slur a few angry "Stops". It went without saying that Harry ignored him and began to unwrap the bandages at the other's neck first. Harry would have liked to believe that he was genuinely concerned for Draco and not merely fulfilling a morbid impulse to survey his own handiwork.

Harry had used Sectumsempra before, but had the subsequent wounds always been this deep? Lying these bandages aside he began to pull away the ones over Draco's chest. He could number Malfoy's ribs beneath his fingertips and it made him feel queasy. The sight of the gashes that would soon scar, did nothing to ease this. He ran his fingers the length of the wound, across the other's gaunt form and to a sharp hip at his opposite side. Following his own touch with the light from the wand he noticed the slight redness of the injury itself. This, paired with the unusual warmth of Malfoy's skin made him nervous. "You're running a fever. These are probably infected." He sat the other bandages aside and waited patiently for Draco to piece together a response. This took a little longer than Harry would have anticipated.

"Your hands are just cold...Get off me..." It seemed Malfoy was trying to make his tone sound at least marginally threatening. His voice only sounded hoarse and he didn't even bother to struggle this time. "Go mind your own business, Potter."

"I can't. Neither of us is happy about this, so just be quiet, Malfoy," Harry said halfheartedly, brushing Draco's hair back and pressing the back of his hand to the other's forehead. "And you are too running a fever."

Malfoy leaned away from Harry's touch irritably. "No, I'm not," he muttered almost inaudibly as if to make sure he got the last word in. After a moment's silence, it seemed curiosity had gotten the best of him as well "How bad is it?"

Harry, who had been debating over whether to try his hand at cleaning the wound or to simply replace the bandages, looked up now. "I'm not really sure. I'm pretty sure it's going to scar though." He was about to go on but hearing a groan from Malfoy realized that was probably all he had been interested in knowing. "How do you feel?" Harry asked instead. He knew how awkward it must have sounded.

It came as no surprise that Malfoy didn't give him the most amiable of responses. "Like I'm the hostage of incompetent fools." Even injured he could manage a his usual drawl "Damnit, Potter, did you tie my hands?"

"It took you long enough to notice," Harry muttered, standing and scanning the room. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, a sink perhaps. In the darkness he could make out three different doors, one of which led into the hall. He was sure the second was a closet of sorts, but the third? Harry stood and crossed the room.

Malfoy must have felt the shifting of weight on the mattress. He sat up as best he could, seemingly troubled by Harry walking away. "Hey...wh-where are you going? At least untie me first!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry assured him desmisively, opening the door to a decent sized bathroom. It was nothing spectacular, a sink, a toilet, and a claw-foot tub. Even so, he was pleasantly surprised. He even noticed a folded, tattered sheet on the counter. The bandages must have come from that. "I didn't know Percy had his own bathroom."

"What does that have to do with anything? Get back here and untie me!" Harry heard a few hollow thuds as Malfoy shook the bedposts in his frustration. "How did you...Why are you so good at this...?"

"Whatever you think Malfoy...that's exactly why I am." Harry sighed, going back to the bed. He was almost relieved to see a familiar smirk on Draco's face again as he worked out the most vulgar of possibilities in his mind.

"Well that's bloody terrible. Does the media know about this yet?"

Harry rolled his eyes though, overall, he was thankful Malfoy couldn't see him at the moment. Whether that had been meant as an insult or not, he had cracked a smile. "Only the tabloids." He leaned over Draco again, this time to untie him. "Can you walk?"

"Of course I can walk," Malfoy said incredulously. Harry was sure he was lying. A moment ago, he had hurt himself simply trying to get up, but he was sure he would get plenty of grief if he didn't at least let him try. "Where?"

"Just across the room," Harry kept an eye on the gashes across Draco's neck and chest as he began to prop himself up. "Those have to be cleaned or they'll get infected."

"And you know what you're doing?" Malfoy didn't give Harry a chance to answer. Sitting up did prove to be a bit too painful. Even Harry winced as he saw more blood, specifically around Draco's shoulder and stomach. As he dropped back down to the mattress Harry wrapped one arm beneath his back, draping the other over Malfoy just as carefully. "What are you doing now?" he sneered once again, doing his part to make the task at hand all the more difficult.

"I think you're sharp enough to figure that out." Unsurprisingly, Harry found Malfoy very easy to support, though certainly not from lack of trying "Stay still." Harry moved the arm he had situated over Malfoy beneath his legs now. The entire situation was unbelievably uncomfortable. Everything about this seemed so wrong.

"You just have to be the hero, don't you?" Draco didn't seem to notice as Harry gave his wand a slight swish, lighting the unbroken lamp in the bathroom.

Harry didn't answer him. He looked to the floor once the small room was completely lit. Much like the rest of Percy's room it seemed to have undergone regular, meticulous cleaning. He supposed any surface in here was as sanitary as the next and promptly went to the sink. "Hermione would probably know more about this than I do." Harry sighed, running water and looking around for any sort of disinfectant, though, he already knew he wouldn't find any. He should have thought of bringing Hermione along earlier.

"Granger's still alive then?" Malfoy made sure to stress the disappointment in his tone and Harry cringed. Things had almost been tolerable between them for a moment there. "She looked out of place in the fighting. I assumed she would have gotten herself killed by now."

"No," Harry said shortly, kneeling back down with a towel he laid down to keep the floor dry. "Both she and Ron are doing just fine. In fact, both of them are doing much better than you right now." That kept Malfoy quiet long enough for Harry to slip his shirt off and reach up to wet a clean washcloth. "I'm pretty sure this is already infected." Harry said again, sounding more confident now that they were in better light.

Predictably, Draco knew little about medicine and even less about Muggle "infections." He certainly didn't seem to like the sound of the word.. "And what does that mean?"

"It means you should be begging Hermione to help you. I'm sure she's read a book on the subject, which is more than I can say for anyone else here." Harry held the washcloth over Draco's neck so that the water fell into the wound, irrigating it. Malfoy winced, unprepared, but really seemed more angry than anything else.

"And what if I don't?" He asked between trying to mask obvious cringing.

Harry wet the washcloth again. "Well. serious infections can be fatal." He noticed Draco pale a bit further and smiled. This was one way to convince him to do something he was adamantly against. "So you won't mind if I bring her here tomorrow then?" He took Draco's silence as a 'yes'. "Wonderful." Harry continued to run water over the remaining gashes in silence.

Once finished, Harry put the cloth aside and reached for the tattered sheet to make a few more bandages. He was pleased to find that there were more than enough prepared to dress the wounds again. Harry re-bandaged the wounds as best he could. It was a little sloppy, but effective. Malfoy seemed to be trying to keep a brave face, but Harry knew that he must be in pain. He was only surprised that the other wasn't taking every opportunity he had to complain. "There," Harry tied off the last bandage and sat back.

"It's about time," Malfoy pulled himself forward a bit and away from the wall only to be pushed right back to it once more. "What now?"

Harry had assumed it was obvious. "I'm not finished," he admonished, reaching out for the bandages around Draco's eyes.

No sooner had his fingers settled on the knot in back did Malfoy pull away. "Don't do that."

"I'm nearly finished." Harry began to unwrap the bandages and was met only with further protests.

"Damnit, Potter, that hurts!" Draco's tone had become more urgent. "Stop it!" It wasn't as if Draco hadn't protested before now. Harry only ignored him and soon found that the bandaging was thicker over his eyes. Malfoy truly did seem to be in pain, but surely, he was merely overreacting. How much more could this really hurt compared to the other wounds? He only got a momentary glance at what was left of Draco's eyes as he peeled back the cloth completely. The shattering of a nearby lamp made sure of this. A moment was all he had needed to realize that Draco was blind.

It took him another few moments in the darkness to realize that Draco was now unconscious again. There was no need to wonder why. The gash there had been the first of Harry's to connect. It was also the deepest and, upon first glance, inconceivably more painful than the others. Harry had taken in little detail, but even the knowledge that the gash had run deep and ragged through Draco's eyes made him gag.

Covering his mouth with the back of his arm, he edged away. After a short bout of coughing, he managed to draw in a few shaky breaths and swallow back his nausea. What had he done? What had Draco done to deserve this other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time? This was all because of a misunderstanding. This was all because Harry had made a hasty assumption. This was all his fault.

"L-Lumos," /Harry took another deep breath and steadied his wand hand. "Lumos."/ Light came, hazy and flickering, from the tip of his wand. He made a point to avert his eyes as best he could as he tied the bandage back into place around Malfoy's eyes. With that out of the way, he took great care in pulling Draco back into his arms. The room was quiet now but, aside from Malfoy's unsteady breathing, this only made Harry all the more nervous. For once, he would have given anything to have Draco to say something rude or harsh. At least that would have been easier on his conscience.

Harry took a step away from the bed after laying Draco down. He was sitting down when a thought suddenly occurred to him. There was something more he needed to know; though, Harry was doubtful that he could handle any more truths in the same night. He leaned over Malfoy once more, taking the other's wrist into his hands. Reluctantly he unbuttoned the cuff and rolled down Draco's sleeve. The same nausea rose up in Harry. This time, however, he was both prepared and completely unsuprised.

Harry pushed Draco's sleeve back over the Dark Mark. His motions were distant and detached as he fastened the cuff again then pulled back, taking a seat in the chair nearest the bed.

"Nox."