Multi-fandom Oneshots

The Comfort We Give {Draco Malfoy}

"Why do you defend him?" Neville asks quietly as he disrupts the silence we had entered as I was so deep in thought. I look up at him just as he turns around and walks back over to my cot with about nine different bottles all stuffed in his arms. He looks at me intently, and I look back. He doesn't break the contact as he sets them down next to me. "He caused this," He adds, motioning to my face. I instinctively wince. It's true, Draco had his hand in this. I wouldn't have been where I was if not for him. If I wasn't there, the twins wouldn't have even seen or been near me. And yet I couldn't really fault Draco. Not when the big picture was so muddled with different villains with their own separate yet equally vindictive motives. I look at Neville softly.

"These are terrifying times, Neville. And he's in deeper than any of us," I whisper so quietly it's almost inaudible. My heart aches for him in so many ways. Neville exhales sharply.

"You love him don't you?" He asks me, though it doesn't come out as a question. It sounds as if Neville Longbottom has never been more sure of something in his entire life. I chuckle faintly. Brokenly. I let myself fall back down onto the cot. My head hands off the other end and I simply stare at the empty portrait where Ariana usually walks through.

"Well I thought that was obvious," I say, once again hearing the jostling of the herb bottles as Neville gets ready to heal me as much as he can.

A few hours later and I'm now only slightly limping from the pain as I exit the room of requirement. The medicine had been administered but the cuts and bruises wouldn't heal for another few hours. But the ache from the Cruciatus curse has lessened significantly. I was grateful for that, at least. I swear Neville is a miracle worker.

I slowly trudge my way out to the courtyard, my destination being the tree he always seemed to enjoy sitting in. I cling to the wall to carry me through the halls, trying not to put too much pressure on my body.

Seeing the courtyard up ahead, I peer through one of the archways, looking for a mess of platinum blonde hair. I let my body rest against the wall as I look around. He had to be here. I looked across the yard and up into the trees. Just as I was about to leave and begin my torturous way down to the black lake, my eyes catch onto a patch of blonde mixed in with the green of the trees. A sigh of relief escapes me. I wait a moment or two before I feel physically ready to stand.

When I do, I try and walk as slowly and quietly as possible. But his actions stop me as instead of trying to hide, Draco jumps down from the tree and begins staring at me. We stood a few feet away from each other. I could see his eyes flicker over each of my healing injuries. He looks me up and down, seeing my slouched form as I try and relieve some of the more painful areas that still ache.

I look over him. Physically he wasn't injured at all. Mentally, he was completely tortured. I could see the storm of thoughts whirling in his head show through his eyes. The increasing rise and fall of his chest. The clenched fists. The ticking jaw. He was being tortured. But not by the twins, not by Snape, not even by Voldemort. He was in a torture of his own design.

It seemed he had had enough of looking at the pain he partly caused me. He spun in his heel and began walking at a speeding pace away from me. His back is what broke me out of my own daze.

"Draco," I call out as I start moving to chase him. My feet fall awkwardly against the grass as I try to walk at a quicker pace, hoping to keep up with him. He doesn't stop. He keeps walking along the yard and it urges me to move faster. Even if it hurt me too. "Draco, stop! I'm not mad at you," I shout across the grassy area.

Draco stops abruptly, causing me to stop as well. He spins around and the fury in his eyes wouldn't be settled. He wanted to make sure of it.

"And that's the problem," he growls out, his breath coming out in pants and his hands clenching and unclenching, small moon shapes pierced into his skin.