Chapter 1
Harry had finally realized that his suspicion about Malfoy was, in reality, concern. Malfoy looked too thin, too exhausted, too unhealthy for him to have any peace of mind. His skin seemed so much paler. Harry would say the correct word was translucent. Well, if you asked Harry, he would also claim that Hermione would agree with his statement. (Which she would, Malfoy really looked a minute away from death, but Harry need not know that.)
Finally, he had had enough. He would ask Malfoy what was killing him, if he could kill them and that would be it.
However, the Potter luck plus the tendency of Harry’s brain to sometimes not work crumbled the entire plan in its execution. He managed to follow Malfoy and here our hero asks you not to judge him for being creepy. He says there was no other choice, Malfoy is very good at not being seen when he doesn’t want to be seen.
Malfoy ended up in the third-floor girl’s unused bathroom. For one horrifying second, Harry thought of fighting another Basilisk with just his wand and half-working brain. Luckily, common sense kicked in and he realized it was one of the places in school where one could be alone. Well, if one discounted Myrtle’s moaning. With a sigh, Harry stepped into the bathroom.
And received the shock of his life. Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy, was crying. Full blown breakdown, body wracking sobs, crying. Harry contemplated if he was under some spell or if someone had spiked his earlier pumpkin juice with a Love Potion. Because, bloody hell, Malfoy looked even more ethereal, and Harry should be in Azkaban just for thinking how attractive Draco was while the bloke was having a mental breakdown a few feet away.
While Harry was busy berating himself, Myrtle took the opportunity to loudly moan, “Oh, Harry! You haven’t visited me in a long time. Of all people, I thought you wouldn’t be so mean.”
Malfoy looked up. Harry stared in anger at Myrtle, what was she playing at? Nosy little ghostie. Or blasted Potter luck. Harry, mean, indeed. Her moaning was meaner than any mean phenomenon Harry could think of.
Malfoy raised his wand and shot off a stunning spell. And here Harry’s tendency to be spontaneous with half his brain fried came into play as well. Instead of putting up a shield, his mind uttered the spell he had wanted to try for a long time.
“Sectumsempra!”
Harry only noticed Malfoy’s eyes widening in confusion at the unknown spell before Malfoy went flying back with blood pouring out of his nose and pooling on his chest.
In an instant, Harry was by Draco’s side.
“Draco, can you hear me? Oh please, no, I just- I just wanted to talk. I didn’t know what that spell would do, I swear it on my magic-”
“That is quite enough, Mister Potter.”
Harry whipped around to see Snape staring at him curiously.