The Storm | The Sister book #3 | A Harry Potter Fanfiction

chapter thirty-three

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The hospital wing feels desperately quiet as I sit, hands tangled together on my lap as my eyes glaze over. How long have I been here? Hours, definitely. Madame Pomphrey worked over him for god knows how long while I waited outside, but now he's lying silently in bed, blankets pulled up over him and smoothed over. His face is pale and motionless, and his hand- His right one, closest to me-  is above the blankets so Madame Pomphrey to check is heart rate. 

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump, turning to see Pansy. 

"Come on," She says quietly, and I shake my head. She sighs, "He's well cared for here. You should get some sleep."

"If Daphne was in that bed, you wouldn't leave either, don't deny it," I answer, and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, raising an eyebrow. 

"Fine," She murmurs, "Someone'll bring you food probably at some point, you lovesick dumbass." She pats the top of my head, and then turns and heads towards the door. 

I sit for a moment, watching Draco's chest rise and fall. I wish I could be angry at Harry. I should be. I should want to scream his head off and tear him to pieces, but it could just as easily have been him, not Draco, lying unconscious in this bed. That doesn't mean I'm not angry at all, I just- I don't feel the need to kick him that much more than I usually do. 

Eventually, I get up and begin to close the curtains, glancing out at the dark landscape. Night is falling slowly, the sun is now hidden by the mountains and the colours of the sunset have retreated, leaving behind a dark grey. I pull roughly on the thick fabric, hiding the glass panes as the few others in here who can stand begin to close the curtains as well. 

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn, seeing Draco's head tilted slightly towards me and his eyes open, his forehead creased. I goes to move and winces, glancing down at his chest. I roll my eyes, 

"Don't move, you idiot. You'll hurt yourself." I pull my chair closer to the bed, and place my hand on his. He squeezes it gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I've felt better." He croaks in response, nodding towards the glass of water on the bedside table. "Can I have some?"

I take a spare pillow from where I stashed it under the bed, and slowly help him prop himself up on it. I then hand him the glass and he gingerly takes a sip, wincing as he hands it back. He's making a bit of a fuss about it, but then again, it doesn't surprise me. This is the boy that swears ferociously if he so much as thinks about stubbing his toe. He settles back into the pillow, looking at me numbly. 

"How long have I been here?" His voice is clearer now, 

"A day." I answer, "You'll be fine in a week or so, though knowing you, it'll take a few months for you to stop using it as an excuse for late homework." 

"Hey, I always hand in homework on time-"

"And then you tell the professor how lucky they are and how good you are because you did it despite almost dying or whatever." I chuckle, and he puts up his middle finger at me, which seems to take a lot of energy. 

"I don't know if you I want you here anymore." He says, raising his eyebrows and looking away. I roll my eyes, standing and kissing him quickly, softly, but when I go to pull away, he tries to follow. 

"You're in a hospital bed, don't ask for more." I scoff, and he smirks, sighing.

"I'll kill your brother."

"You know all too well that it was both of your faults, and it could just as easily be him in a hospital bed." I retort, "But I do plan on ripping him to bits, so in a way, I agree with that sentiment." 

"I'd love to see that." 

Suddenly, Draco's expression changes to a scowl, and he turns his full attention to something behind me. I turn, jumping when I see Harry standing barely a metre away from me. I stand, gulping and crossing my arms. 

"What are you doing here?" I snap, 

Harry sighs, biting his lip, "I came to apologise." 

"Has it ever occurred to you, Potter, that I don't give a fucking rats arse about whatever apology you have to offer-"

"It's not to you, Malfoy," Harry says, not looking at Draco and staring only at me. "Look, Clara, even though I don't actually care whether or not he survived, I want to say I'm sorry for any pain what I did has caused you."

"That's a very contradictory apology," I say, gritting my teeth. This boy is an actual idiot. I am related to an imbecile.  

"Yeah well, you get what I mean. I know you do." He says exasperatedly, "So yeah, I'm sorry." 

I nod curtly, and Harry turns and heads out of the infirmary without so much as a goodbye. I turn back to Draco and share a look of absolute confusion, and also a decent bit of amusement. 

Draco eventually tells me to go to bed in my own bed, and I slowly walk back towards the common room. This whole situation is insane, I mean, how did that happen? Harry and Draco having a full on duel in the boy's bathrooms? If one of them had gone too far, someone could have been seriously injured or even killed. I'm all for rebellious and mildly dangerous activities, but I'd rather I wasn't at risk of losing either of the people I care the most about. Apart from Ink. She's rather important. 

xxx

Sorry for being late today, guys! 

There was a ton of rain yesterday (like washing cars down the street kind rain) and though my house and everything is fine, the internet threw a hissy fit. Sorry!

Someone tell me to watch the half-blood prince to get re-inspired thank you xx

Also, that video is the NaNoWriMo recap that I uploaded about a week ago

Lots of love, 

Taylor xx