Potter's Twin Sister || Draco Malfoy

42

As the adrenaline of the daring task ebbed away, a group of us gathered at the entrance of the enclosure.

There stood Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, Hagrid, and me, having dashed out of the arena in my hurry to see Harry.

Harry and Viktor were now tied for first place, both earning a solid 40 points. Bagman, the commentator, had announced Harry as the fastest to retrieve his golden egg.

"Harry, that was incredible!" My jubilant cheer burst forth as he landed and dismounted his broomstick.

Without a second thought, I enfolded him in a tight embrace. I sensed Harry take a deep breath, allowing himself to relax a fraction despite his injured arm, the golden egg, and his Firebolt to manage.

As we pulled apart, I spotted Hagrid gazing at us with shimmering, moist eyes. After a couple of blinks, he managed to regain his composure.

"Brilliant job, Potter!" Professor McGonagall beamed proudly, her hand trembling slightly as she placed a reassuring touch on Harry's uninjured shoulder.

"You did it, Harry!" Hagrid chimed in with his trademark cheer, his voice ringing with genuine joy. "You did it!"

Professor Moody wore a pleased expression as well. "Well done, Potter. Sometimes the slow and steady approach wins the race."

"Right then, Potter, off to the first-aid tent!" Professor McGonagall instructed, gesturing towards it. "Madam Pomfrey will look after you. She's already had to patch up Diggory."

With Harry by my side, I led the way out of the enclosure and headed towards the tent where Madam Pomfrey awaited.

She stood at the entrance of another section, concern etched on her features.

"Dragons..." She muttered, her tone laden with distaste as she ushered Harry inside.

The tent was subdivided into individual spaces, and I could discern Cedric's silhouette.

Madam Pomfrey immediately set to examining Harry's shoulder, her words a rapid stream as she worked her magic. "Last year Dementors, this year dragons. What could possibly be next on the roster of school hazards?"

Frustratingly, Malfoy's name crept into my thoughts at the most inconvenient times, uninvited and nonsensical.

Think about something else, I told myself.

Lyra? No, she's his cousin.

How about potions?

Scratch that, Malfoy and I were once paired in Potions, and we remain neck and neck in our Potions prowess.

Perhaps a book will distract me.

Nope, it conjures the memory of that time he took my book.

Silvermist, my owl. There, that should suffice.

Though, as I visualised both their images, I realised his eyes share an uncanny shade of grey with Silvermist's feathers.

Merlin, I beg of you.

"Miss Potter, would you be so kind as to fetch the vial with the purple liquid for me?" Madam Pomfrey's request snapped me out of my mental meandering, her wand diligently tending to Harry's shoulder.

Vial with purple liquid—perfect.

"Certainly." I complied and procured the vial, promptly handing it over to her.

"Thank you, dear." She said, applying the purple liquid to the cut on Harry's shoulder without warning.

A sharp hiss escaped Harry's lips as the stinging sensation intensified.