Draco had a terrible summer, and it was all thanks to the blasted World Cup. Normally, he looked forward to summer. He and his mother usually took a trip to their chateau in France to escape his father, but they weren’t allowed to go this year. This year he had to entertain the children of other Death Eaters at the manor while his father plotted to terrorize everyone at the World Cup, demonstrating that the Death Eaters still existed, and were not to be trifled with. This meant he had to ignore Parkinson’s conspicuous flirtations and tolerate Crabbe and Goyle following him around like lost puppies. Summer was usually the one time he could escape his dreaded housemates and he didn’t have to pretend to agree with his father's beliefs. This year though, he was forced to play mini death eater.
He was relieved to be back at Hogwarts where he could escape his father’s cane and spend time with his godfather Severus. Lucius knew better than to include Severus in their plan; as a spy, he couldn’t risk getting caught. This meant that Draco was unable to even rely on tea with his godfather as an escape. Now that he was back at Hogwarts though, he would be able to seek solace in Severus’s parlor.
The only thing driving him insane about being back at Hogwarts was Potter, but there was nothing new about that either. Potter always drove him completely mental, ever since he snubbed him before the sorting. This year though, it was different, something about Potter was off. When he purposefully bumped into him on the train, Potter seemed tired and didn’t put up as much of a fight as he expected. And when Crabbe sent that stinging hex at him, his back stiffened ever so slightly, as if he were in pain.
Thoughts of Potter preoccupied Draco as he packed up his stuff at the end of class. He made his way up the corridor next to Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle lagging behind him like the loyal lap dogs they were when he realized he left his quill behind. “I’ll catch up with you later, I left my quill in class,” he told his housemates as he was turning back, not even bothering to see if they heard him at all. Luckily, Crabbe and Goyle continued with the rest of their year.
He hurried back to the Potions classroom, hoping to catch his godfather, the quill was merely an excuse to talk to him about his father's plans. “Professor Snape, I trust you had a relaxing summer,” he said as he reentered the classroom. Relaxing was the keyword they had developed that indicated they needed to speak alone.
“I did, Mr. Malfoy, shouldn’t you be on your way to dinner?” Severus asked, not looking up from where he was grading their summer assignments.
“Yes sir, forgot my quill is all,” Draco walked over to his desk and picked up the quill he had purposely left lying there.
“Do try to be more mindful in the future, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape drawled still grading papers at his desk. “I expected more from your summer homework than this pathetic attempt. Your essay is hardly worth the parchment you wrote it on. It is what I would expect from Goyle or Potter,” Snape spat the last word with vehemence as if a curse, but it was the invitation Draco was looking for nonetheless, a veiled opportunity to speak with his godfather alone, away from prying ears.
“Yes sir, my apologies. I’ll strive to meet your standards in the future.”
“I expect you to, Mr. Malfoy, you are dismissed,” and with those words Draco made his way out of the classroom, looking forward to the conversation they would have later that night. Before meeting up with the others, he made his way to the bathroom. He was preoccupied as he opened the door, running through everything he needed to tell Severus in his head, so he didn’t notice the person lying on the floor until he tripped over his legs.
“What the bloody hell are you do-,” The words died on his lips as he looked down and saw the prone form of Harry Potter lying lifeless on the floor. Draco felt himself grow pale as he gazed down at Potter. He couldn’t move for a full minute, trying to process the image in front of him, it was as if time had halted. Then, all of a sudden it surged toward him, blood rushing in his ears as he knelt next to Potter. There was no way this was the same person he had seen merely an hour ago; he looked as if he had lost at least thirty pounds, his cheeks were hollow and sunken and his lips cracked as if he hadn’t had water all day. What was scarier though were the bruises marring his face, all different shades from yellow to deep purple indicating that they occurred weeks ago. This meant that they must have happened over the summer when Harry was home for holiday. Draco gulped as he tore his gaze down to Harry’s chest to see if he was still breathing and Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. Spotted against the white of Harry’s button-down was bright red blood, but luckily Draco also saw his chest rise ever so faintly. Draco let out the breath he was holding and rushed to his feet, leaving his bag on the ground next to Harry.
Running as fast as he could, he burst into the Potion’s classroom. “Severus, come quick. It’s Potter, something has happened,” he practically yelled in one breath before turning around and running to the bathroom, not even checking to see if Snape was following him. He burst back into the bathroom, Snape on his heels, and leaned down next to Potter, Snape doing the same on the opposite side.
“Fuck,” he heard his godfather swear as he reached for Potter’s wrist and he cast a diagnostic charm; that was when Draco knew it was bad. His godfather never swore.
Snape tore his gaze up to meet Draco’s. “Go inform Madame Pomphrey of what happened. I’m going to stabilize Potter and then I’ll bring him up to the infirmary.” Severus could hear the squeak of Draco’s trainers as he ran out of the restroom, before placing all of his focus on the student in front of him. He managed to find a radial pulse, it was thready and quick, but at least it was present meaning he was alive in the meantime. Quickly, Severus cast a basic diagnostic triage charm to assess what needed to be done to stabilize Potter before moving him to the infirmary. He didn’t take his eyes off the boy as parchment appeared next to him in midair, filling with all of the injuries in order of most deadly. Once he heard the scratch of the quill stop he tore his gaze from Harry to the parchment, keeping his fingers on Harry’s wrist the entire time to ensure he still had a pulse.
Severus took a sharp inhale as he glanced at the list and wondered how on earth the boy could amass that many injuries in the short time he’d been back to school. Unless…unless they occurred over the summer at his relatives. Snape threw up his occlumency shields, knowing that going down that line of thought would only bring up his past and do nothing to help the boy in front of him. No matter how aggravating he found Potter to be, how arrogant he was, and how irritating he found his blatant disdain for the rules, he was still a student. A student was gravely injured. Seeing that the biggest problem was the punctured lung, which explained the nasal flaring and quick respiratory rate, he quickly cast a charm to temporarily inflate the lung until more permanent action could be taken. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw Potter’s breaths even out.
The next pressing issue was the lacerated spleen causing internal bleeding. To remedy this, Snape quickly summoned a blood replenisher and spelled it into the boy’s stomach, knowing that was all he could do until he got him to the infirmary. After checking the list to ensure there were no spinal injuries that could cause paralysis he gathered Potter into his arms and rushed back to his office to floo to the infirmary.
Chapter 3