𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭

In front of Harry lay a boy, the one his eyes always followed, the one whose scowl was buried deeply into his eye, the one whose name made his whole muscles tighten in awareness, the one who with just one word drew his focus, attention, eyes and thoughts to himself.

The one who harry almost murdered.

Draco lay on the wet bathroom floor, the water pooling around him. His own blood seeping out of his cuts and mixing in the water beneath. The skin which was moments ago as pale and smooth as jade, was now torn at places such that the bones inside were visible with cripples on it like wrinkled cotton due to being wet for long. His ragged breath echoed in the enclosed space, serving as a witness to his pain and life seeping away. For an instant, something like relief shone in his eyes. Relief – that he didn't need to suffer anymore, that the act he so much wanted to do but was too scared to perform was, now, gifted to him by someone else. Maybe he thought this was his last deed. Maybe not. No witness was present to tell us ultimately what those emotions in his eyes told. The only other person was too lost to recognize even himself. So the only hope we have is if the person himself survives. Maybe he will tell us?

Harry stared at the Draco. His eyes were blank and his thoughts had the picture of Draco crying before he made his appearance. He stumbled back with a jolt as his body was pushed backwards and Snape ran to Draco. His eyes panicked before changing to anger as he looked at Harry, scornfully saying, " Have you done enough damage? If so, please leave, Mr. Potter, and return to your dormitory." The words were spat out by Snape as his whole being exuded furious anger. He would have hexed Harry if not for the barely breathing Draco.

These words, as if a spell, bought Harry's consciousness back, enabling him to react. He realized that many students had already gathered outside. the loud noises drawing their curiosity. Scared as they already were, this commotion caused by him and Draco drew much attention. He took a step back followed by another and soon his boots were hitting the stone floor one after the other in rapid succession as he ran. His mind was a mess. With disoriented thoughts, confused emotions and a lost sense of direction, he ran. That was all he could do at the moment. Desperate, as if the answer for his erratic turmoil lay just beyond.

When Harry finally came to a stop, he was exhausted and heaving heavily. His muscles burned and calves wobbled but that did nothing to garner his attention, even temporarily. He stood there, as still as a statue, bathing in moonlight spilling out of the huge windows, drowning his body with it. He did not understand what he was feeling, did not understand his own emotions. Was that even possible?

Questions jumbled in his head. Why was Draco crying? What happened? What was he himself feeling? It was as if the arrows were shot but without an aim.

Was it guilt that made his throat clog up and heart squeeze? Guilt? Sympathy? Anger? Hate? Resentment? ….No. It was none of these. It was entirely different or maybe a well-stirred potion made of all of these.

Harry sat down on the hard ground, head leaning on the evenly checkered glass of the window beside him. He remembered how broken and helpless Draco looked minutes ago. Body in shreds, heart shattered and soul torn, just laying there. Harry did not want to sympathize with him. He did not want to feel guilty. After all, it was Draco who attacked first. He was the one standing on the wrong side. He was the one who made all the wrong choices. It was him who bore the mark. Harry was just defending himself. But what he thought and what he saw did not match. Was what he saw true or just another farce? Regardless of all these speculations, one emotion was still prominent. He wanted to fight Draco in such a way. He didn't want Draco to cry. He wanted Draco to scowl at him with disgust, to mock him mercilessly. Just like all those months back, not crying and helpless. He was not the Draco Harry knew. His Draco did not cry alone in the bathroom. He might hate people and bully them but would never try to kill them. No. This was not Draco. With this revelation in his heart, Harry drew up his knees and silently thought about the silver haired bastard whom he liked to call 'Malfoy'. He thought about the moments when all that was between them were a petty rivalry and not war like it was now. Suddenly, those fights seemed like a privilege to him. They had the power to draw his every thought to them. Maybe it wasn't the fight itself that drew his attention but the person with whom he fought.

The clock ticked away and the silver rays turned to golden ones. It was already the start of another day. With this, Harry finally sorted out the jumble in his head and decided to find out the answers to his questions from the source himself. He hurriedly made his was to the Griffindor common room. On entering, he immediately came face to face with Hermione and Ron.

Registering how he looked and remembering the situation last night, Hermione worriedly asked, "Where were you Harry? We searched for you all around. Are you okay? You are not hurt, are you ?"

Simultaneously, Ron said, "What was all that last night, mate? What happened?"

Ignoring them, Harry remembered Draco's condition last night and asked, "How is Draco? Is he fine?"

Hearing the anxiety in his voice, Ron frowned and Hermione replied with a horrified face, "His condition was quite bad. He was taken to Madam Pomfrey. The rumors have already spread all around the school. Everyone is terribly scared. Harry, What exactly happened?"

Before anyone could say anymore, Harry spoke up, "Hermione, I need to see Malfoy."

Hermione could hear the urgency and anxiety in his voice. Her brows frowned at the sudden worry she sensed for Draco in the voice. But Hermione was a smart girl, she knew when to step ahead and when to step back.

"Right now, Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey are still tending to him. The best time to break in would be at midnight but Professor Snape might still be there. The Dinner might be next best. We could cover up for you.", Her voice was serious and reply accurate to Harry's need.

With the plan ready, the only thing to do now was to wait. The day passed by student questioning Harry about last night and what happened, trying to know everything that was there. But regardless of their efforts, Harry only had the tears sliding off pale cheeks in his thoughts. Dinner soon came. The hallways emptied as students rushed to sate their hunger.

Harry silently made his way to the infirmary. With the invisibility cloak sneaking out was as easy as breathing.

Draco was sitting on his bed. A book was floating in front of him but his eyes looked empty, lost in another world. He did not seem to realize Harry's presence even after he took off the cloak.

Deciding to draw his attention, Harry gruffly said, "Malfoy"

Startled, Draco snapped his head towards the voice. His eyes wide after registering Harry. He asked, "What are you doing here, Potter?" His words were angry but his voice was pained and gruff from the toll he took yesterday. His face into turning into a scowl at the sight of Harry's face.

Harry's voice was neutral, not revealing even a bit of his actual intention, "Why were you crying, Malfoy ?"

Draco stared at Harry, processing what he heard. Not believing that Harry would take it upon himself to interrogate him and even more so after hearing his question. He could not make the head or tail of Harry's question but it was the answer that made his heart squeeze all over again. Seconds passed and Draco eventually said, "What is it to you, Potter? Looking for another chance to show off your heroism?" He said in an equally monotone voice, all the while struggling to get out of bed. To get away from the question, away from Harry.

Emerald eyes gleamed darkly, reflecting the pale figure scrambling to get out of bed. And before Draco could know what was happening, strong hands forcefully pulled him back on the bed, grasping his elbow with a frighteningly tight grip. He tried to pull back and struggled fiercely, all the while his other hand searched for his wand.

Getting closer, Harry asked again, "Why?"

Draco's struggles increased. At this point, he wildly flailed his arms and legs around, hitting harry, shouting insults at him, doing anything that could help get him free. But all of this could not even budge his captor.

Minutes passed but neither gave up. Draco could feel his muscles weaken due to his lack of energy, could feel Harry's grip bruising his arms. His eyes burned but he did not know if it was from anger or pain at his situation. It was as if years of emotions which were choked up in his heart, all threatened to break free. They were clogging up his throat and pooling in his eyes. The dam he had built around his emotions was starting to overflow. With its opening shut tight, refusing to let even a drop escape, the dam was filled to the brim, threatening to shatter completely. As the first crack appeared, the first drop slid down the sickly pale cheeks. More cracks appeared as more drops fell. Soon a part of the dam fell and a strangled voice echoed the infirmary. As the dam shattered completely, so did the struggles .

Now, the only thing that remained were the tears and cries rushing out of a boy in another's arms.

Harry looked down at Draco. The arms which were moments ago hitting his back in an attempt to break free now tightly held his shirt as he tightened his arms around Draco. He had got his answers. He got them in the most purest and crudest way. He could feel his magic shake with Draco's every wail. He had questioned himself if this was a farce staged to trap him or not. Now, he felt the answer to this question. These tears were not a farce. These emotions, this magic around him swirling with desperation, these were not false. Draco did not change but he was pushed to this point. Pushed to the point that he broke.

Draco did not stop and Harry did not leave. Both too lost, too in pain to even think about letting go of the only anchor present.

Outside the infirmary, two figures stood with their heads down. The taller one holding onto the more petite one as she muffled her cries in his shirt. They were both overwhelmed by the scene. Ron and Hermione had left the dinner early to warn Harry about Professor McGonagall requesting all the professors for an urgent meeting and witnessed this scene after getting here. They were first shocked and then grieving for someone they never thought they would. The figures soon left as it was getting hard to just be there hearing their enemy's hoarse cries as he wept on their best friend's chest.

Inside the infirmary, Draco tried to lock up his emotions in his chest again but failed miserably to the constant heat and pressure surrounding him. He did not know what Harry wanted. Did not know why he was still here. He wanted to run away, wanted to stop, but he did not know how. So, for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy let go. He cried and cried thinking that this might be his only chance he cried on someone's shoulder, let someone know his pain, even if that someone was his enemy for years. There were no words spoken but he knew Harry understood, maybe he found them false, but at least he understood.

Harry held Draco, not once loosening his arms. He made no effort to comfort Draco, with actions or words. His head down and chin touching Draco's ear, he stayed in the same position, not moving an inch.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours as the cries stopped and Draco slumped in Harry's embrace, unconscious from exhaustion. He got out of bed and gently laid Draco down, slowly pulling the covers up. Standing at the bedside, he looking at the puffy eyes and wet cheeks. At that moment something rose in Harry's heart. It was dark, cruel and sinister but it wasn't wrong.

In the silent night, a small whisper was heard by the walls, "Just wait, Malfoy. Just wait "

In the haze of tiredness and slumber, Draco heard a deep voice whisper to him, "...Wait~ ....Just wait~"

And Draco thought in the engulfing darkness, ' Wait ? Wait for what? Death or a life worse than death?'