Harri’s pleated skirt flew out behind her as she made her way through the lightly populated corridors after the fleeting form of Draco Malfoy. Zooming around corners and down hallways and stairs after him until she came to a halt in front of the boys’ bathroom. Her chest heaved with labored breath, her lungs being pushed to their limits from running faster than she had thought possible.

Straitening herself out she glared at the doorknob as a certain thought came over her, how would she confront him? The look on his face as he faced Katie Bell was enough proof for her against his claims. She looked around the deserted corridor, searching for any prying eyes but found none. The thought of barging in and stupefying him was very tempting and the spell was on her lips the moment she yanked open the door. She stopped short though, at the sight of her most hated enemy.

Harri let her wand go limp in her grasp as she took in the scene before her. Faintly she could hear Moaning Murtle comforting him from a cubicle but the words didn’t and wouldn’t register until she had left the bathroom. Draco had his cotton sleeves pushed up to his elbows, water dripped down his face, pelting the mirror as he whipped around to face his counterpart.

No matter how hard he tried to smooth out his expression into its customary sneer, the memory of his crumpled, sorrowed face reflected back at her from the glass was burned into her memory.

Draco and Harri stared at each other and let the silence stretch on for what seemed like hours. Finally, she took one step towards him, Draco instantly reaching for his wand. He whipped out the dark hawthorn wand and had it leveled directly at her face, but the look in her emerald eyes had him stop short. His own grey eyes widened for a split second before his face turned back into a sneer.

“Don’t come any closer Potter!” he had shouted at her.

But Harri didn’t seem to hear him as she took another short step towards him. With determination in her eyes, Harri’s steps became stronger and surer. With each step, a forgotten memory surfaced, flash! First Year. Harri shoving the retreating Draco behind her and into the network of tree roots in a meager attempt to shield him from the approaching wraith figure…flash, Second Year. Harri grinning with triumph at Draco from across the field after besting him at Quiditch, not exactly missing the faint red flush that came to his cheeks (purposely mistaking it for anger)…flash! Third Year. Draco poking his head into their compartment and winking at her as he left…flash! Fourth Year. Harri picked up the white ferret of Draco with strange girlish glee as she petted his soft fur on impulse before dropping him in embarrassment…flash! Draco confronting her in the hall before the start of the tournament, reaching out to stroke her cheek before wishing her luck…flash! The Yule Ball. Draco had tilted his head away from her, with his hand outstretched asking her to dance. His cocky smirk as he twirled her around in a circle…flash! Sixth Year. Draco standing over her immobile form, taunting her about her family and crouching down to give her a brief kiss, saying it was probably all she would ever get before smashing in her nose with his foot. The shock, at the sight of her blood running down her ruined nose or at the hate full look she directed at him was overtaken by a strange detachment before exiting …flash! flash! flash! flash! flash!

Soon she was in front of him a small frown on her face. Harri reached up and gently moved the tip of his wand out of her face, him making no movement to struggle against her. She slowly brought her hand to his face, lightly touching his cheek. Seeming to become aware of her actions, Harri made to drop her hand away from his face. Surprisingly he leaned into her touch, body language saying,
Don’t stop. She complied.

Bringing her other hand up, also unsure, she wiped away a stray drop of water of his high cheekbones. His shield seeming to have been completely dropped Draco hung his head and inhaled deeply, his pride not allowing him to show anymore weakness in front of her. Harri opened her mouth twice, no sound coming out. Finally she got out the words she had been dying to ask before she had entered the room and was overtaken by this strange sense of sympathy and care.

“Mal--Draco…what did you do to Katie Bell?” in the softest voice she was capable of around the knot in her throat.

He brought his eyes to hers and in an instance she saw fear in those icy depths. In the softest voice she had ever heard from him he spoke to her.

“He’ll kill me…if I fail…” his voice was scratchy and husky from crying.

The warm and defenseless look he had given her was long gone and his lips were pursed in a severe line. He swatted her hands away and roughly shoved her from him and brought up his wand. He fired a spell at her as she dived ungracefully out of the line of fire.

She heard something shatter and rolled into an upright position, only to doge another spell by jumping to the other side of the sinks. Slowly, she leaned down on her knees to look for her opponent. With little time to react she rotated back on her heels to avoid another spell.

Draco jumped out from behind the sinks and aimed his wand in her direction.
When the first part of the spell left his lips, she reacted on instinct.

“Crui-”

“Sectumsempra!”

Draco fell to the ground with gashes on his body and face. Harri stood frozen, barley aware of Myrtle’s shrieks. She fell to her knees and crawled over the sodden floors to kneel beside his limp frame. She stared in open mouthed shock at the wounds that she had seen rip across his flesh, torn by unseen weapons. Shakily taking off her jacket she bunched it up and pressed it to the largest wound on his chest.

She felt her body run cold at the sight of blood seeping out into the water around him, spreading like dark red ink. Harri noticed the approach of someone, footsteps splashing in the water on the tiled floor. The imposing figure of Severus Snape came into view as he paused to intake the scene. He stooped down to scoop up Draco’s prone and bleeding form. Harri looked up at the Slytherine house head and nodded mutely at the order to stay there.

She looked from her wand to the bloody pool before her. Vaguely wondering how the Half-Blood Prince could ever create such a dreadful spell, marveling at her own brashness and stupidity, and thinking of the strange pang in her chest at the sight of the boy whom she had believed was her foe, bleeding to death on the ground before her.