Parchment Paper
Harry pondered as Snape lectured on about a remembrance potion. ‘You’re making it worse.’ Making what worse?
Those words were glued in Harry’s mind, and they kept him in a trance till Hermione tapped his shoulder for a fifth time.
“What happened last night?” She asked, dipping her quill in ink before jotting down a few notes from their lesson.
“What do you mean?”
“Draco is missing from class again. You were the last one with him last night, did you do something?” She questioned, her eyebrow raising.
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Harry defended himself. Yet there was a strong twinge of doubt in his mind, a feeling he couldn’t shake. ‘You’re making it worse.’
Their attention was caught by a snap across the room, Snape angered by their lack of attention to his teaching. Putting a pin in the conversation, they put their heads down and scribble the notes on the chalk board.
Neville was beside Blaise and Pansy, an empty seat at the end of the table. No doubt saved for Draco in case he made an appearance before the class was over.
A small movement caught Harry’s eye as Blaise passed a small piece of parchment under the table to Pansy, who read it and passed it to Neville, reading it over as well. Harry squinted as best he could but failed to read it from so far away.
And in a moment, Neville had gotten up and thrown it in the trash. So much for destroying evidence.
When class was dismissed, Neville followed Blaise and Pansy out the door in somewhat of a hurry. Harry tried to see where they were going, but lost them. He rushed over to the trash can, the note crumbled in a ball on top.
He grabbed the paper quickly and unfolded it. ‘Meet at the Astronomy tower.’ Harry crumbled it back up and shoved it in his pocket, racing out the door.
He followed the footsteps down the hall, making sure they weren’t aware that he was trailing behind them. They began up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, Harry on their trail far behind.
“We need to help him,” He heard from up above, hiding underneath the top of the tower. Pansy sounded miserable, as if she’d been holding back tears since class started. “Before it’s too late, he grows sicker by the day.”
“But we’ve tried to convince him to rid himself of it and he keeps refusing, we can’t force it on him can we?” Blaise was pacing, his steps quick and frantic.
Neville sat upon a wooden bench, contemplating their next move. “We can’t let him risk his life like this, no matter how strong his feelings may be. He’s not worth it.”
He? Who is he? Were they still discussing Draco or.. no it couldn’t be. They weren’t talking about him were they. And what did they mean Draco was sick. His life was at stake?
The more Harry thought, the paler he became. Retreating down the stairs, he made no effort in being undetected.
The group turned over their shoulders to hear footsteps, yet they couldn’t tell whether or not someone was coming up or going down the winding staircase. Either way, they ended their conversation before retreating for lunch.
Harry sprinted around the corner, hearing steps ascending down the stairs. He couldn’t be caught, not like this. In a panic, he dashed behind a poll as they walked by, and held his breath. When they had turned down the corridor and made their way to the Great Hall, Harry sighed in relief.
Yet his stomach felt queasy. Was he somehow involved in Draco’s unwellness? He became lightheaded as he began to force unfinished puzzle pieces together, to no luck.
Deciding to return to the Gryffindor common room to nap on things, he snuck out from behind the poll. He began to walk and turned the corner, only to bump into someone harshly.
Both had fallen to the ground, dazed and dizzy. It was a girl, whose hand was placed atop her head where Harry had bumped it. Her hair was short and dark, her lips thin with a dark red tint, her arms decorated in dozens of bracelets.
Pansy Parkinson.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” Harry struggled to stand, dusting off his pants as he stretched out his hand. She took it gratefully.
“Don’t sweat it, Har, not your fault,” She smiled. Harry would never admit it but he heavily admired Pansy, her calm and laid back personality mixed with her talent with clothes, makeup, and hair as well as her sense of humor made her seemed so cool to Harry. He found himself sometimes jealous of how put together she was.
“You haven’t seen Draco by any chance, have you?” Shoot. Why did he ask that? He didn’t want others to think he was going out of his way to find the blonde. He was just curious, nothing more.
Pansy lifted an eyebrow, rather suspicious. “Why? Are you looking for him,” She asked hesitantly, hoping for a positive answer.
“No, I’m just worried about him, that’s all. He hasn’t showed up to class much lately, I’m sure Lucius isn’t too happy,” Harry chuckled. When Pansy didn’t laugh with him, he swallowed awkwardly.
“Draco’s parents aren’t on the grandest of terms with him at the moment,” She said, taking a seat on the ground, leaning against the pillar Harry was previously hiding behind. “They don’t speak much.”
Oh. He knew Draco’s relationship with his parents wasn’t outstanding, but to barely communicate with them sounds horrid. Harry knew what it was like to live without the guide of parental figures, and felt remorseful on his previous words.
“I see,” he said, sitting next to her. “What happened yesterday?” The moment didn’t seem too ready for the question, but he was still desperate to know.
“Y’know, when he.. when that happened.” There was no real way of putting it into words, and he hoped Pansy understood what he meant. She sighed beside him.
“It’s not my business to say. All I can tell you is that he’s doing the best he can right now,” She mumbled, before standing back up. “It was nice to talk with you, Har.”
And with that, she was back on her way and out of sight.
‘He’s doing the best he can right now.’ Harry wasn’t buying it, the Slytherin still on his mind. But why? He’d never really cared about the blonde, nor grew cautious when he was missing from class. But then again, he hadn’t been missing weeks worth of classes then either.
Seeing Draco so unwell last night had really struck a core with him. It was a horrifying sight, and it had practically sunk into his veins. He was unable to forget what he saw.
Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table for lunch, Harry attempted to think of something, anything other than Draco.