The Fire~ Drarry Oneshot

The Fire

Draco's P.O.V.
The fire.
It's always flickering at the back of my mind.
Never to be put out.

I still get the flashbacks, panic attacks, fainting. The works.

I can't see fire without thinking of that day in the room of requirement.

We were in potions class with the Gryffindors. Longbottom's potion exploded into flames. I couldn't look away. Images of Crabbe falling. The flames getting closer. I feel myself start to hyperventilate. Why now? Blackness starts to creep into my field of vision. I was quickly becoming light-headed. I only snap out of it when strong hands wrack my small frame.

I quickly press my palm to my forehead, unaffectively wanting to stop the pounding. Trying to slow my breathing. Furiously wiping the tears that have pooled in my eyes. Theres a ringing in my ears that I can't seem to shake.

That is until I hear a voice, "DRACO! COME ON! HELLO? DRACO!" And the shaking on my shoulders is back and doesn't stop until I look at the person hovering over me. A worried expression etched on his face.

Harry.

My head is still spinning. Why won't it stop. My chest tightens up and I can't breathe. Gasping for air that is not being supplied I tear my eyes away from him and back to the fire that Longbottom is desperately trying to put out.

Crabbe. He's falling again. I can't grab him, not without falling. I'm too much of a coward to let myself die. The chair I held onto slipping slightly. The little breath I have is shortening. The darkness is back. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness surround me.

When I opened my eyes the bright white of the hospital wing was blinding. My eyes snap shut again and slowly ease back open, adjusting to the light. I stare up at the ceiling, wondering how I got here.

I cast a wandless tempus and see that it's near 3 am. Soon realizing that there's a weight on my left hand. I turn my head to see a hand clasped tightly around my own. Following the hand upwards is the sleeping form of a man. Messy raven hair. Thin circular glasses. Golden tan skin. Lightning bolt scar.

Harry Potter, a.k.a. the boy who wouldn't die, a.k.a. my crush, is holding my hand. Out of sheer panic, I try to pry my hand out of his tight grasp, but to no avail. My movements still as he shifts. My eyes glued to him as I worry what will happen when he finally wakes. And as if right on cue, his head raises from where it was rested on the corner of the bed, he blinks a couple times before looking over.

"You're awake!" He shoots up from the chair and promptly wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. Not knowing what was happening or what to do I just awkwardly patted his shoulder. I dropped my arms back down to my sides but when he kneeled on the bed, pulling me closer I hesitantly wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sensing that he wasn't letting go any time soon.

I melted into his embrace, my arms tightening around his shoulders. He buried his face into my neck and sighed. "So Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the honor?" I asked, chuckling.

He hugged me tighter, if possible, and whispered into my neck, "Being awake." I was shocked when he kissed my neck briefly and pulled his face back to look at me. He laughed a bit at the expression on my face, but simply pecked my forehead lightly and sat back in the chair, his hand connecting with mine again

"So.. um.. not that I'm mad about it or anything, but uh, what is happening right now?" I asked, very confused.

"Oh this?" He raised our conjoined hands, "I like you, that's what's happening." At this I squealed and my jaw dropped to the floor. He laughed. This boy laughed. How dare he.

I shook my head. Trying to rid it of its thoughts. "I- I like you too- mphhh" my words got cut off by him pressing our lips together briefly. When he pulled away I smiled at him as he nudged me over slightly in my bed and crawled in. I can honestly say that was the best sleep I'd had in a long time. No more nightmares. No more fire.