A/n: I just finished rereading the HP series, and despite having reread it multiple times, it's still an emotional rollercoaster. Anyway, this is pointless and dysfunctional and short, but I've been wanting to write something Drarry, even if it's slight. Enjoy!


Harry closed his eyes, as he stood in Madam Pomfrey's. Taking a shuddering breath, he willed his eyes open to witness the scene before him. The Hospital Wing was partially demolished, and every bed available was filled with injured fighters and students. Others were transporting bodies, and Harry felt a pang of sorrow shoot through him as he slowly looked at Neville, who was surrounded by members of the DA, and Bill and Fleur, surrounded by Hermione and the Weasleys, and all the others who had bravely fought. Harry hesitated, seeing Mrs. Weasley sob, and turned away. They needed their time to grieve. And so did he, he realized. The relief and jubilation at Voldemort's death was also bittersweet with all the lives that had been lost.

He absentmindedly looked up and saw one bed unsurrounded. He bit his lip, and walked over to the figure that was picking at a large gash in his side.

"Draco," Harry said quietly. The blond looked up, marks of recent tears bright on his pale face, but his mouth set in a grim line, and grey eyes defiant and miserable.

"Potter," he whispered. He opened his mouth, but shut it quickly, as if afraid of what he would say.

Harry swallowed and glanced around. "Where are your parents?"


"Oh." A horrible aching feeling for Draco curdled in Harry's stomach.

Draco snorted almost inaudibly. Then sighed. "I'm sorry."

The words held no anger or resentment, but just regret. Harry, who had been staring at the steadily growing bloodstain near Draco's ribs, looked up quickly and words came out in an uncontrolled rush.

"Don't, I know he was forcing you to do a lot of horrible things-and fuck, Malfoy, I should've tried to help you somehow, and your mother saved me, and-"

"Will you stop it?" Draco said tiredly. "I don't need your pity. It's over."

Harry wiped some blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt and nodded haltingly. "It's over."

They both paused and Harry used his newly-fixed phoenix wand to cast a spell, cleaning Draco's wound of the blood and summoned bandages. He awkwardly placed them over the cut, feeling a sharp sting of self-loathing as he saw the scars over Draco's abdomen.

"Thank you," Draco murmured.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry for-" he said, gesturing towards the scars. Draco's brow furrowed then cleared.

"Look, I deserved it, I shouldn't have tried to use an Unforgivable on you," he replied, sitting up straighter to look at Harry. "I-I was an idiot- no, I AM an idiot and why you're even talking to me, I have no idea," he finished weakly.

Harry blinked and shrugged slightly. "You are an idiot," he agreed gently. "But you're not a bad person."

The sun cast a warm glow over the room and Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, suddenly exhausted. Draco lay down and they silently contemplated the future.

A/n: Review, please!