Chapter Text
The blood was carnation red and it surfaced like a deathly rose, pouring out of three thin lines across Malfoy’s chest and up to his neck. Harry stood in horror, as the lines bloomed and spread out staining first Malfoy’s shirt and then the floor all around as it pooled rapidly out of the lanky boy and unto the floor.
“Murder!!!” Myrtle screeched. “Murderer in the bathroom!”
She was upset and the piping reflected that as water flooded along the floor, mixing and washing away Malfoy’s blood in mixed cloudy streams of blood and water.
Harry rushed to Malfoy’s body groping to apply pressure and trying to remember any spells he knew that would heal wounds before Malfoy bled out on the floor.
“Murderer in the bathroom!” Myrtle continued to screech, and Harry turned to her in desperation although he was afraid she was too hysterical to help.
“Myrtle! Get Pomphrey! Get help! Now!” His eyes were upturned towards her in plea even as his hands pushed down on Malfoy’s bleeding gashes. He clutched at the sodden fabric willing it to hold Malfoy’s blood back in place in his body.
Myrtle glared at him, but swooped away presumably to tell Madame Pomphrey. He prayed she did at least. Myrtle in the past had been keen on having more permanent company and he did not think that he could get Pomphrey before Malfoy bled to death.
Harry scrunched up his outer robes and pressed them against Malfoy’s wounds and pressed down hard, but it did not seem to slow the bleeding. He stared with the same steady horror into Malfoy’s still face as the minutes passed and the blood soaked through his robes as well.
“Episkey” Harry uselessly attempts along the edge of the wound to absolutely no effect, and useless tears formed in Harry’s eyes.
There’s so much blood and water all around them and it’s soaking into the knees of Harry’s trousers when finally Pomphrey arrives pale faced with a broom in one hand and an emergency medical kit in the other.