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When Harry sees him for the first time since the trials, he looks different
Much different
Done, tired,
Though not alone.
Harry has no hate left in himself,
Good for Malfoy
He supposes
He looks happy, the other guy
Looks friendly, has this
In his eyes
That reminds Harry of Cedric
Harry forgets about Malfoy for a while
His friend looks like a cool bloke
“Oh, hi! Didn’t see you, sorry. The name’s Kyle. Pleasure to meet you.”
Malfoy’s friend holds out his hand, greets him warmly
Harry’s mind whispers
Slightly embarrassed that he assumes this just from the lack of hysteria
But he is, isn’t he
Malfoy and his muggle friend, huh
Malfoy looks at him, but quickly looks away
Uncomfortable, Harry assumes
Which makes sense, it’s been a war
“Hi, Malfoy,” Harry says
Is met with nothing else than a nod
Doesn’t expect anything else, really
And his friend’s
“Oh, do you know Draco? What a coincidence! How did you meet?”
“School,” Harry supplies
And lets Malfoy’s muggle friend
Kyle, was that his name
Because he’s good at talking, Harry can tell
“Right. Well, I and Draco were just about to leave, weren’t we?”
Malfoy nods, and Harry watches them leave, Kyle guiding Malfoy with a gentle hand on his shoulder
He seems alright
Kyle is with Malfoy the next time he sees him as well
Chatting with the other people in the bar
In his hand
In his eyes
Yeah, he seems alright.
Malfoy stands right next to him
Uncomfortable still
Harry sees his knuckles are white
As he is holding Kyle’s hand
Wait, Kyle’s hand?
He can’t say he expected that
But it would explain a few things, honestly
They seem like a good pair
Kyle would fit with anyone, honestly
Now he tightens his own hand around Malfoy
Says something into his ear
Malfoy turns white, whiter than he is
Harry wonders what he says
Of course, Kyle would top
He’s just that kind of guy
In his eye
After all
And now Kyle laughs, friendly pushes Malfoy like it’s an inside joke
Yeah, he seems alright
Malfoy looks half asleep
Head hung low, body
His neck is red
Harry tries not to look at it
Sees Malfoy’s tried hiding it with a scarf
It can only be a hickey
Yeah, has to be
Kyle’s a nice guy
Kyle has an arm around Malfoy
To stop him from falling over.
Malfoy says something
His bony hand poking Kyle’s shoulder
He turns around quickly
Looks at Malfoy with…
Worry, that’s it
Kyle all but storms out of the café
Grabbing Malfoy’s wrist,
Pulling him with him
Taking him home
Taking care of him
Yeah, he seems alright
Kyle says
Sounding surprised
Malfoy is bleeding
Holding his nose
Looking down
Draco fell,
You see
Kyle continues
But he’s okay
Harry doesn’t say anything
It is possible to fall on your nose,
After all
Kyle has some tissue paper in his hands
Dries Malfoy’s blood
Carefully, with
Is it love?
He’s okay
Kyle says again
We’re going home now
He seems alright
It is Harry who finds the body
Always Harry
Because he just has this tendency to
Get involved in troubled things
It is raining, like some fucking cliché, but it is raining
At first, he doesn’t recognize him
Features too deformed to describe his appearance
That is what sets off the alarm in his head,
Because this
This is like the war
He casts his Patronus, doesn’t watch it run away
Too focused on the body
There is blood
And more blood, too much
Impossible amounts of blood
The hair is a greyish, reddish brown
Discoloured by the blood,
He wonders who it may be
If he is loved
If he is a criminal
If he is just an ordinary bloke at the wrong place at the wrong time
What the story is
But he needs to save him, if he can
He casts all the spells he knows of, does every life-saving technique he knows
He isn’t breathing, so he tries fixing that first
Maybe he should have cast a cleaning spell before the CPR
Cardiopulmonary resuscitation, he remembers from Auror training
Yeah, he should have
He does
And jumps when hair turns white
Skin turns whiter
Too white
Even for him.
He knows who it is now
Immediately knows
How could he not have seen?
That freckle
Below his right eye
The elegant bow of his upper lip
The shape of his sharp eyebrows
The way he kept his hair
He knows it all too well
Knows him too well
Not to see right away
But he didn’t
And he can’t help but spell check the injuries
Blood turning cold
At the sheer amount
At the crushed bones
At the concussion
At the bruises in his face, on his arms, around his neck like a painted-on collar, everywhere
At the torn skin between his legs
At the broken nose
Fuck, broken nose
And he knows it’s too late
He’s too late
And he knows what’s happened,
At least in rough terms
And he cries,
Cries with the skies
Because he could have helped
Could have given him shelter, safety
Harry would have given it,
Would have given it all
Had he understood the seriousness
But he was too slow
To understand, to realise, to help
He should have seen it before
Harry doesn’t know
Doesn’t know if he helped at all
And he can’t help now
He bends down
Brushes the hair out of his eyes
Hugs him tight
Ignores the cold
The metallic smell
The lifeless passiveness
Ignores it all
And just cries
Until there’s a hand on his shoulder,
A team of Aurors, investigating
A team of healers, telling him what he already knows
And just cries
Lets them take him away
Lets them
Because what else can he do

And he goes home,
And just cries
Until late becomes early
Until he has nothing left to cry with
And he opens his cupboard,
Grabs some bottles
Casts Sectumsempra on them
Doesn’t know if it will work,
But it does
He watches them shatter
Watches his mess
And just cries