“Sectumsempra!”

Harry’s voice rang through the boys’ bathroom. As the stream of light hit its target Harry felt elated, knowing that he got the upper hand against Malfoy. He couldn’t help the smirk forming on his face; he was about to say something when he heard it.

Harsh, labored breathing.

Hearing that sound stopped Harry; the confident feeling quickly disappeared.

Labored breathing, sob.

Harry stepped forward, his shoes making little splashing noises with each step. Harry was afraid of what he would find. The water running from the broken pipes was drowned by Harry’s heartbeat drumming in his ears.

Harsh gasp, sob, gasp.

When Harry got to the end of the row of stalls, there in the small puddle of water, Draco lay on the floor. Harry looked at the pool of blood that soaked Draco’s once-white shirt. He knew that he should help Draco, but he felt stuck to the floor.

What have I done? Harry thought.

___000___000___000

Draco was bleeding profusely. It hurt so much. He had thought being forced to take the Dark Mark was painful but, this was much worse. Draco could feel his blood leave his body. He tried to take in deep breaths, but the fiery pain from his lungs made that impossible. Draco could feel that the end was coming. In a way, he thought it would be a good thing; he wouldn’t have to carry out the Dark Lord’s bidding. However, there was a small voice in his head, pleading for him to hang on.

Draco took what he thought was a deep breath, but it only came out as a gasp. A gurgled sob followed by a gush of blood escaped Draco’s mouth.

___000___000___000

Harry was taken out of his frozen state when he saw blood splatter out of Draco’s mouth, and like lightning, Harry ran to Draco’s side. The boy slipped on the wet floor on his knees and slid next to Draco’s body. The blood and water mix soaked Harry’s pants, but he didn’t even notice or care. Having bloody pants was the least of his troubles.

Looking down at the broken teen lying in front of him, Harry couldn’t help to realize this was all his fault. Everything was his fault. Draco didn’t incite the fight, Harry did. Draco wasn’t looking for trouble, Harry was. And if Harry was honest, Draco hadn’t picked on him all school term. But Harry did. He tried to look for anything to blame on Draco.

His friends told Harry ever since he first stepped into the castle that Slytherins were terrible, and all of them came to be a ruthless, conniving witch or wizard. 

But this wasn’t the case. He, Harry Potter, was the one that was trying to start something. He was the one blaming people and bullying people. Now Draco was lying before him, dying because Harry had wanted to pick a fight with him. 

Harry was taken out of his thoughts by the door to the restroom flying open. Harry quickly stood up, about to inform whoever came in to rush, and get Madam Pomfrey. That request died in his throat when he saw who was walking towards them.  

___000___000___000

Severus was walking back to his chambers when he heard the commotion. He didn’t want to deal with it, but hearing the telltale signs of crashing debris, Severus sighed and turned towards the restrooms where the noise was coming from. 

“Dunderheaded brats,” Severus grumbled as he opened the boys’ restroom door.

Severus always shielded his emotions, but what he walked into was not what he expected.

The boys’ restroom was in shambles; there was hardly anything standing. Stepping inside, Severus looked down when he saw that he was stepping in water. There was water everywhere.

A strangled gasp brought Severus out of his shock. Ignoring the water and destroyed stalls, Severus walked further into the room. A single gasp escaped the adult, seeing what was in front of him. Two boys were on the floor, one on his knees and the other lying flat.

Severus rushed toward the prone form. Looking down and seeing the damage on the teen’s chest, his heart leaped in his throat.

Draco’s chest was shredded. Severus looked at Potter and saw the fear in his eyes. As Severus and Harry’s eyes met, it was easy to delve into the teen’s mind. Rage filled Severus. He wanted to lash out, but the problem was, who was the real culprit? Seeing the damage on the Malfoy boy, he knew exactly what curse was used. No one was supposed to know about it. So many times did his curses come back to haunt him. Severus couldn’t go to the Headmaster or he would have to explain where Potter learned the curse. How could he be so careless leaving his book unprotected.

Severus had to save Malfoy. He knelt beside the boy and began the enchantment to reverse the cutting curse. Severus had never created anything that didn’t have an antidote.

Severus’ wand softly moved across the deep cuts on the teen’s chest, and slowly Draco’s blood returned to his body. As the blood  returned, the strangled gasps slowed and stopped.

___000___000___000

Harry watched in morbid fascination, his mind going a mile a minute. The thought of killing another human being flooded his mind. He didn’t like Draco, but he didn’t want the git to die. That would make him no better than Voldemort. He would be that madman.

The look Professor Snape gave him let Harry know that he was beyond trouble. Harry would be surprised if he would even be a student of Hogwarts by the next morning. Harry wanted to run out of the restroom, but it seemed as if his legs didn’t want to move.

When Professor Snape finished, he looked up at Harry, the professor’s cold, hard eyes bearing down at him.

Fear was always a great motivator. Harry had learned how to get away when confronted with fear; growing up at the Dursleys, Harry knew how to get out when someone was more than just angry. Seeing that same look on Snape’s face brought up those old fears. Moments before, Harry didn’t think he could move; now, he jumped up from his position. Slipping slightly on the wet floor, Harry tried to run out of the restroom. When he got to the door, he found it locked.

“Not so fast, Potter,” Severus snarled.

Harry turned and faced his horrid deed. Draco was no longer gurgling on his blood. His breathing was still labored, but even. Professor Snape stopped the bleeding and closed the wounds.

___000___000___000 

Snape transfigured his handkerchief into a stretcher and levitated Draco on it.

“You don’t get to run away from this,” Severus growled. “I’m going to take Malfoy to the Infirmary. You will go to my office. If you are not there when I get there…”

Severus left the threat open. The green tinge in Potter’s face let the Potions Master know that he would obey that order.

Severus walked towards the door, Draco floating next to him. When he got to Harry’s side, he leaned towards the teen’s ear. “My office, now.”

___000___000___000

Harry ran down to the dungeon. Disobeying Snape’s order was the furthest thing from his mind. His legs felt weak. His heart pounded against his sternum; tears streamed down his cheeks. When he stopped, he was standing in front of Snape’s closed office door. 

Standing still, Harry noticed his tears. He used his sleeves to wipe the streaks, but it didn’t matter. More fell. Harry leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees and put his head down. His shoulders shook from silent sobs.

He wasn’t him. He didn’t want to be him. He was supposed to be the hero. The Boy Who Lived. Some chosen one, Harry thought.

“I’m not evil. I’m not evil. I’m not evil,” Harry hoarsely cried.

___000___000___000

It took half an hour to stabilize Draco. After Severus made sure that Draco was resting comfortably, he needed to deal with the Boy-Who-Thinks-The-World-Revolves-Around-Him. The entire way to his chambers, Severus occluded so as not to do anything he would regret.  

When he reached the corridor to his office, he saw Potter sitting curled up against the wall.

“Inside, Potter,” Severus said.

Harry lifted his head. He pushed himself to stand and slowly walked into the Professor’s office.

The instant the door closed, Harry started pleading.

“Professor Snape, please, I’m so sorry,” Harry cried. “I didn’t know that would happen. You have to believe me.”

“Enough,” Severus said, raising his hand. “You will start from the beginning,” walking behind his desk, sitting down, “what happened?”

Harry lowered his head and sighed. 

“My eyes are up here, Potter,” Severus snapped. “If you are going to cast a dark curse, you better be brave enough to face the consequences.”

Harry’s head lifted, and he looked at his enraged Professor.

Dark Curse. That can’t be true—dark Curse.

“POTTER!”

“S...sorry, sir,” Harry said softly. “I didn’t know it was a Dark Curse.”

“I can fill up the entire Library of things you do not know, Potter. I want to know what happened. Also, where did you learn that curse? It would be advisable if you did not lie to me.”

Harry’s mouth opened and closed several times with no sound uttered.

“Potter,” Severus said, rubbing his forehead. “It has been a long day and an even longer evening. I would like to end this soon.”

“I’ve been trying to prove,” Harry started, “that Malfoy was bad.”

“You’ve been doing that with little success, might I add.”

“Yes, Sir. So, I was going to find proof.”

“And what was this proof?” Severus asked, sitting back in his chair. 

“He kept secrets,” Harry said. Hearing it out loud didn’t sound as convincing or a legitimate reason. 

“Keeps secrets,” Severus said incredulously. “My dear, let’s cart him off to Azkaban right now.”

Harry’s face heated at the sarcasm. 

“Speaking of secrets, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, leaning on his desk with his hands folded. “Where did you learn that curse?”

Again, Harry seemed to lose his voice. His mouth was open, but no sound came out. 

“Once again,” Severus said, “I will not sit here and see you continue to imitate a fish. Answer. My. Question. Where?”

“A book,” Harry said. 

“How very astute,” Severus snarled. “What book?”

For the entire school year, Hermione had wanted Harry to get rid of that book. Before, he didn’t want to, there was too much valuable information. Now, Harry wished that he had never seen the book. 

“A potions book,” Harry whispered.

“I’m sorry? What was that?”

“A potions book,” Harry said a little louder.

Severus’ face changed. The once furrowed brow smoothed out. His lips parted when his jaw slacked. 

“Bring me the book,” Severus ordered. “Bring it to me.”

Harry was about to say something when Severus snapped. 

“Bring me that book, Potter!”

Harry rushed out of the office. Severus got up and started pacing back and forth the length of his office. 

___000___000___000

Five minutes later, Harry knocked on the door. Snape wasn’t behind his desk anymore. 

“Professor,” Harry called out. 

“Bring it here, Potter,” Snape said. His back was facing the door.

Harry held out the worn Advanced Potions Making book. “Sir.”

Snape turned and snatched the book, putting it in his inside pocket without looking at it. 

“How did you come about this book?” he asked. His voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been.

Harry looked up at his Potions Professor. At that moment, he realized that he wasn’t as grown as he had once thought. All year he had wanted to be treated like an adult, but now he saw that even though he was sixteen, there was still a lot he had to learn before he was an adult.

“I got it from the cupboard in the Potions classroom,” Harry said. “Ron and I didn’t get our books because we didn’t know you weren’t teaching Potions.”

“Did it not occur to you that you should have turned it in?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry wanted to say no, but it died in his throat. He didn’t want to admit that Hermione had been telling him that all year. So Harry kept his mouth shut.

“No,” Severus said, nodding his head. “Of course, why would the great Harry Potter, the Chosen One, think he wasn’t above the rules.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Harry yelled. 

“Really,” Severus challenged. “Sectumsempra.”

Harry’s response once again stopped in his throat. 

“How…”

“How do I know?” Severus finished. 

Severus turned and walked to his desk, leaning against the side. 

“The property of the Half-Blood Prince,” Severus said. 

Harry nodded. 

“That’s me,” Snape said, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry’s jaw fell open. Once again, he was wrong. He had judged him wrong. First-year, Harry had wanted to believe that Snape was the one that was after the stone. Harry had wanted to believe that he could never learn anything from the “Bat of the Dungeon.” Knowing now that he had learned so much this year from that same Bat. 

“Don’t seem so shocked, Potter,” Snape said. “If you are going to survive this war, you need many allies. Stop these false notions.”

Harry turned and headed for the office door. 

“Oh, and Potter,” Snape called out, walking back to his chair. “You have detention with me.”

“When?” Harry asked. There was no attitude behind his question. He had caused enough trouble. 

“Starting tomorrow,” Snape said. “After dinner. Get out.”

Harry turned and left, closing the office door behind him.

Harry climbed the stairs. He had a lot to think about. When he got to the third floor, he turned down the corridor and headed to the Infirmary. It was late, but Harry needed to see how Draco was doing.

Slowly opening the door, Harry slid in the crack of the door. He saw that there was only one bed occupied. Trying not to make noise, he tiptoed towards the bed. 

__000___000___000

Draco was sleeping. He wasn’t feeling the pain in his chest as he did earlier; Madam Pomfrey had given him a potion to ease the pain an hour ago. Waking, Draco reached over slowly to get a drink of water. 

He hissed at the pain in his chest but was surprised when he felt the water glass slide in his hand. Looking up, he saw who was standing there.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco asked. “Come to finish the job?”

Harry shook his head, sitting down on the bed next to Draco. 

“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” Harry said. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“What did you mean to do?” Draco snarled. It didn’t sound too harsh as he hissed in pain.

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “I—I don’t have a reason. Just know that I was wrong. Everything I thought. I was wrong.”

Harry stood up and walked out of the Infirmary before Draco could respond.