Chapter Text
Harry Potter was a hero till the very end, but even heros don't live forever. It's just unfortunate that being a hero couldn't even keep him alive. He even walked to his death, practically committing suicide, just so Voldemort would die with him.
When Harry's cold, dead body, was carried from the forbidden forest back to Hogwarts, all Ron and Hermione could do was silently sob.
Even Draco fucking Malfoy looked stuned, like there was something he regretted deeply. So it was only slightly less surprising when he tried to fight Voldmort himself.
Malfoy always said their was a thin line between being brave and being stupid when insulting Gryffindors. Although right now he wasn't being brave, he was being mindlessly stupid. Funny how he usually was the one saying that to the Gryffindors, especially Harry Potter.
Draco saw that Voldemort was weak and he took the chance, Hermione, Ron, a few Weasleys, some students, and a few professors following quickly. The rest was a blur, probably because most of them were crying. But the blur ended with Voldemort dying for lack of a better term.
People (including most of the Weasleys) started clearing out and getting medical treatment if needed, except for the few that fought Voldemort and some other close friends or family of those fighting.
The students must have been high on adrenaline or just general shock, because most of them had worse wounds then some of the adults getting medical help.
Everyone could see the shakiness in Malfoy's breath especially, the slow movement, and the dizziness in the sway that screamed tired. Not to mention he had quite a lot of wounds.
Madam Pomfrey realized that something was wrong, his vision was clouding over, he was staring at nothing and made clear signs he would pass out. She ran over to him, he slumped into her arms almost immediately after stumbling to stay upright and not fall over.
Draco's eyes fluttered before shutting. Succumbing to unconsciousness. A ringing noise filled his ears. A warmth spread over his left fore-arm.
Blood started soaking Malfoy's sleeve, Madam Poppy Pomfrey laid him up against a peice of rubble and yelled for someone to get her medical supplies. When Granger got the supplies and rushed them to Poppy, Poppy lifted up Malfoy's sleeve.
Time almost seemed to stop for what seemed like a millisecond. Everyone close enough to, saw Malfoy's arm, even Mrs. Malfoy, who stayed behind to make sure her son was okay.
Malfoy's arm clearly showed what look like someone — Draco trying to remove his Dark Mark by carving it off their arm. Most of it looked fresh, while a few parts looked old.
Some of it looked like the work of magic, but some looked like just pure knife-to-skin. The battle beforehand probably only made it worse and caused the cloting process to slow.
Among the main concern, their was other scars. They were most definitely self inflicted, whether the scars were on top of the remaining Dark Mark or around it.
"Holy shite." Ronald Weasley gasped.
Mrs. Malfoy just stared. Poppy Pomfrey cleaned Malfoy's arm and applied bandages to it, barley blinking.
She didn't quite expect this from Draco Malfoy, but she had seen things like this a few times. Most professors did atleast once.
Poppy turned to the remaining students then to Minerva McGonagall, who looked back at her. They both looked back to the students, and said;
"You will tell absolutely no one about this. Not even each other." Both professors started listening off consequences if they did tell someone with out Malfoy's permission, before finishing with, "Do you understand?"
All the students settled, Minne and Poppy got a variety of "Ok", "Alright", "Yes ma'am", and "Yes professors".
Draco woke up eventually, not sure how long it had been.
Draco looked around from where he was laying — It was fairly dark, he wasn't sure where he was but it looked like an average room. The room was smaller then his room back at the manor, yet for some reason the whole room had a green, silver, and black theme; just like his.
It was warm it the mysterious room but he was shaking shivering. What happened? Before he could wonder any further, almost on cue someone came into the room.
He saw Severus standing in the doorway.
Was he hallucinating? Was this all a joke? His godfather was supposed to be dead- how was he not? Then Draco saw the bandages covering severus's neck and the dark circles forming under the man's eyes.
"Severus?" Draco asked, unsure; almost wary.
"Draco." Severus paused.
"It's good to see you awake." Severus finished, he looked like he was struggling, so how he was saying full sentences was beyond both men.
Severus moved out of the doorway, followed by madam Pomfrey.
"How are you feeling Mr. Malfoy?" She questioned.
"Fine." Draco replied even though he was lying. He felt uneasy hearing the name 'Malfoy'. It made him feel sick, although it was nothing related to him previously passing out.
There were to many reminds connected to his last name-
Too many reminders of Potter, Harry Potter of his family.
"I'm just going to ask you some questions." Pomfrey told hin, signaling Severus to close the door.
A few of the questions were about how he was feeling. When the conversation drifted to his 'mental health' he always steered it away. He didn't get the chance to ask anything or even properly look at himself.
Both of the older adults tried to slip a question that was ever so subtlety about the war. They asked things like 'What is it like at your home?' That was not as subtle as they thought.
They even asked if he had ever been afraid of someone he was close to. They might as well have asked him if he was a Death Eater instead of tip-toeing around him.
Finally the prying ended and Pomfrey did a quick check-up on him. Severus set potions on a side table next to the bed, telling Draco when to take them, before he settled in a chair near the bed Draco was in.
Draco took one of the many potions Severus gave him, then prepared to ask him questions Like;
'Where am I?'
'Did you see my arm? Please tell me you didn't.'
'How are you alive?'
'Why does everything in my body ache?'
But before he could, he felt drowsy and shifted into a dreamless sleep. Again.