Ardenia | Draco Malfoy 18+

CHAPTER 55

He slowly let go of her wrist, "A few drops should do it, just don't– don't open your eyes." Sounding shaky. The gray hues would look at her tightly shut eyes every time.

Draco felt terrible from his condition, powerless. His beliefs of failure towering over him when it came to her.

There's one thing about Draco Malfoy that makes him feel worthless — he didn't have time to make things right.

"I'm– are you ready?" Her hands shook when she held the dropper filled with Dittany.

She pressed her fingers softly on the rubber, letting a drop fall in the air, and plunge deep into the wound.

More painful yells muffled into the fabric, the seas of his suffering cut deep into her ears.

Her eyes squeezed shut with the harsh sounds he would make. Underneath her, she could hear him shuffling from the discomfort, not saying a word for her to stop.

"Talk to me, Malfoy, tell me that you're okay," Claude's breath shook, continuing to hear him whimper at each drop.

"Stop—"

When she heard the word, she released the pressure she held on the dropper. Her breath was heavy, just as he had been, after feeling all the pain rush through the veins in his arms.

Another form of shuffling filled her ears; he was trying to wrap the wound himself, but even before that she knew.

Before all the lies, the hatred, and pain – there was a reason he didn't want her seeing his arm. She knows.

He doesn't know that she knows, but it is obvious from the hiding he's done, the things he's been keeping from, and the late at night strolls.

"You can open your eyes." His low voice uttered quietly; only a small whimper from his lips at the end of it.

The girl on his side had peeked through one eye first before having them both staring at his arm. It was wrapped.

Her damp hair pushed past her shoulder as she tightly shut the flask, placing it down on the tall table beside the bed.

They both hadn't said a word, his eyes turned to the side, staring blankly at the curtain, not even paying attention to the girl – he thought she would've left.

"Don't move too much, alright?" Claude whispered, her hands messing with the covers that fell from the sides of the mattress.

She moved closer to him, "I don't know if they could open, but it was cut deep." A tear at the end of her words.

An hour or two has passed, and students should already be asleep in the hall.

Pansy was the only person she could think of, but Claude never promised to be back – she intended to be until she saw her worst nightmare.

He hurt.

"You need to go to with Pansy, she's alone and—"

"Why do you keep doing that? Pushing me away, why?"

"I'm not pushing you away, when Madam Pomfrey sees you here she'll ask questions." From the bed, he muttered, speaking about her 'pathetic' question.

The red eyes she kept darting at him would slowly close. She was tired but had too many questions.

At times, her eyes would look as if it was squinting, but she was trying to shake herself awake on the inside.

"The doors to the hall are locked, I'll be here for the night." Her arms crossed over her chest, as she leaned beside him.