ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ 1-3

good

"I watched him buy that diary," he grimaced. "From Borgin and Burkes. And that was because he couldn't find it in Greece in that antique shop. I didn't know whose it was, or what it was for, but I should have known. He's been complaining about Weasley's fathers Muggle Protection Act all summer." He laughed dryly. "Hadn't said a thing about it when the year started."

"It's not your fault," I said gently. "Ginny's safe. We're all safe. Nobody blames you, anyway."

"How do you do it?" He asked me suddenly, looking at me again with those stormy silver eyes. "How are you so good?"

I wasn't sure how to answer this. Frankly, I didn't think I was. Any of my friends deserved to be called good more than me. I could be spiteful, petty, vengeful even. Dumbledore had said the Gaunts were unstable and temperamental, and I could see some of that in me.

"I think you're good too," I said instead of answering. "I just don't think you know it yet."

Even though he didn't respond, he stopped scowling and dragging his feet. I took it as a small success. We walked to the Hospital Wing in a calm silence.

Madam Pomfrey greeted Ginny with a happy squeal, attending to her quickly. News must have spread about Ginny's capture. She settled Ginny into a bed and fixed her a cup of hot chocolate, fussing with her blankets and trying her best to soothe her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat at her bedside, talking quietly amongst one another until Madam Pomfrey came to attend to me.

"I knew something important was happening when I turned and saw you'd disappeared from your bed," she huffed, ushering me toward a bed near Ginny's. She frowned at my ink-stained robes and thrust a set of pajamas over the bedrail. "What happened to you? Lose a fight with a pen?"

When I didn't answer, she looked around me and grimaced. "Where's the rest of you?"

"They're alright," I assured her. "I think when my soul got expelled from the diary my body joined it and I ended up concussed and bruised down my whole spine."

She did not understand a word I said about the diary, but when I lifted just the back of my shirt both Malfoy and Madam Pomfrey collectively gasped.

"Merlin," Malfoy had a hand over his mouth and his cheeks were pink. "You fought with that?"

"Is it really that bad?" I turned my body to face a mirror. My whole spine, as much as I could see, was basically purple, patches of blue and green in the more painful parts.

I blanched. "Adrenaline works wonders," I murmured.

"Well, we'll get that fixed up tonight. Sit down, please, I'll grab a healing draught," Madam Pomfrey directed me onto a bed and disappeared into her storeroom. This left Malfoy and I with the Weasley's and the few, still Petrified students, covered by curtains.

"Hermione's going to be livid," I laughed suddenly. Malfoy turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow. At this, I grinned. "She hasn't had enough time to study for exams."

Malfoy laughed at this too, and the sight sent another strange pang through my chest. "That should be the least of her worries, but you're right. She'll be peeved."

Madam Pomfrey returned with the healing draught. It was sweet, and went down my throat like honey. All the parts of me that previously ached started to tingle. The sensation was strange but not unpleasant.

"Alright, then. If you'll excuse me, I must finish administering the restoration draught," Madam Pomfrey grabbed two vials from a nearby table and sped off toward the closed-off beds, leaving us alone again.

"Lila Holmes, is it?"

Mrs. Weasley stood suddenly, and her husband followed. She walked over to the two of us. Malfoy seemed to be trying to make himself invisible.