Chapter Text
Draco knew he wouldn't have agreed to this if anyone had told him how agonizing it was going to be. He would have found another way, a potion or something. Or just let himself die and be done with it. The world wouldn't be any worse off.
He'd had his first chemo treatment less than an hour ago and already he was sure he was dying. He couldn't stop his stomach churning and his head swimming. His body had begun to shake and he was covered in a cold sweat. They'd injected him with something and given a potion for nausea, but it didn't seem to be helping.
The worst part wasn't how sick he was, but that everyone was there. Potter was there fussing over him. Luna was wiping down his forehead with a cool cloth. Hermione was trying to distract him, reading from his favourite book about potions theory. He knew he should be grateful, but right now he was just embarrassed and irritated. Draco didn't want anyone to see him this way, but he especially didn't want Harry bleeding Potter seeing him puke all over himself for the third time in 10 minutes.
For a while he had refused all treatment unless Potter left, but the man insisted that at least Luna be allowed to stay. So he put up with her gentle hands placing cool cloths on the back of his neck and changing out the bin liner every time he vomited. He let her settle the blankets back around him and give him ice to suck on. He let her get the nurse when his skin began to redeem and burn like fire. And when the blood came again, gushing up out of his throat and nose, he even let Potter back in.
Not that he could have stopped the man in the state he was in. But he didn't particularly want to. He liked how Potter seemed to sense what he needed, as infuriating as it was.
He caught a few words between Potter and the healers, enough to know this was a severe reaction and not how the treatment was supposed to go, so when Harry had come to the bedside shortly after, Draco expected comfort and false cheerfulness. Instead, the man sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on top of Draco’s.
”Malfoy, you’re allergic. It’s not supposed to be this bad. They're flushing out your line with saline now and switching to a different treatment tomorrow.” His voice was kind, but not soft and sickly sweet like most people.
It wasn't supposed to be this way? He wasn't supposed to be in this much pain? Draco broke down then, shame at showing this much emotion only fueling more tears. Harry adjusted himself, laying back with one leg on the bed, curling an arm around the man.