A Small Bite 2.0

8. Third Year

The floor of their room in the hospital wing slowly got covered by a growing puddle of blood.

Polly disappeared from Draco's side, and he stared at the empty spot with wide, scared eyes. She couldn't just leave him covered in blood and with a dying man on the floor. He was about to call her back but stopped when he heard the door open.

Madam Pomfrey ran into the room and, without missing a beat, knelt by Lupin's side. She started whispering various spells Draco didn't know, hovering her wand over the teacher's body. The blood stopped running free as the gash slowly closed itself, colour returning on Lupin's face. Draco let out a long exhale in relief, feeling his body relax slightly.

«Get me a Blood-Replenishing Potion. It's over there» she gestured with her free hand to a white cabinet in front of the toilet's door, never taking her eyes off the injured man.

Draco scrambled to his feet and ran towards it. Inside, there were many different potions but, luckily, the one they needed was in the front. The dark red liquid was labelled with Madam Pomfrey's neat handwriting.

As soon as he gave her the potion, she helped Lupin drink by opening his mouth and holding his head.

«Is he okay?» Draco's voice shook as he ran a hand through his hair. Lupin looked better, even if his skin had a sickly colour and it was covered in sweat.

«He is» she smiled gently at him. «You took him here just in time» she flicked her wand and muttered a "Mobilicorpus". Lupin's body started floating, as if invisible strings were supporting him, in the direction of his bed.

With his back against the closed cabinet, Draco slid down until he sat on the floor. He couldn't keep his eyes off the older werewolf as his chest steadily rose and fell.

Lupin was alive. Draco hadn't killed anybody.

But he almost did.

He was the only one that could have hurt the man. His wound had been made by an animal, a beast.

Draco ripped his chest apart and left him to die. How long had he been lying there, on the cold floor? How long had he been awake, feeling the blood leave his body?

Draco pulled his knees to his chest and gripped at his hair tightly, his knuckles turning white. «I—» a choked sob interrupted his voice, one that he almost didn't recognize as his. «I did this— It's my fault—»

«It's not your fault» Draco's head snapped up at Madam Pomfrey's reply.

«I could've killed him!» he lowered his gaze and tightened his grip on his hair, probably ripping some off. «I— I attacked him! I did— I did that to him and he almost— He almost—»

Warm hands grabbed roughly his shoulders, forcing him to look up. Madam Pomfrey was kneeling in front of Draco, staring at the boy with a stern expression. «You did nothing. What happened is not your fault, because you weren't in control.»

Tears were falling down his eyes, but Draco didn't do anything to hide them. The matron gently took his hands and pulled them from his hair.

«It was not you »

The only reaction she received were loud, ugly sobs. Even if he hadn't been in control, it was still his fault. He decided not to take the Wolfsbane potion, putting the people at Hogwarts and in Hogsmeade at risk. Putting Lupin at risk.

Hadn't he acted like a scared child, he would have never hurt the first person that had treated him kindly knowing about his lycanthropy. Had he been smart, he would have told Snape from the start and accepted being another victim of his hate, if it meant being safe to be around.