draco malfoy · harry potter · injured · vulnerable · angst · slytherin · dark magic · pain · fear · canon
The infirmary is washed in the cold, pale light of a winter afternoon, silent except for the slow drift of dust in the still air. The sharp scent of disinfectant mixes with a faint, coppery trace of blood. On the bed, Draco Malfoy lies as still as stone, his grey eyes fixed on the ceiling above. He doesn't move as you approach, but a faint tightening of his jaw betrays him. "Didn't think you'd show up," he mutters, still not looking at you. Why did you?