There a certain smell to hospitals, that could drain the hood from the most head strong person out there. They always smell clean, but dirtier than any bathroom. Harry had only been there once, when Dudley stubbed a toe, but the doctor had been much less frantic than the healers were now.

Other than his moaning, a faint whisper could be heard, that resonated from a older man with gray hair and a large gash on his face. The man spoke complaints to his nearby wife, complaining that Draco was simply overreacting and the healer's couldn't be as focused with him there, so they should move him or let the Malfoy die. On other days, Harry might've let his lion heart free and approach the man, but what would that do? The man would still believe what he wished to and Draco would still be falling back into a coma. Merlin, Harry was losing himself.

The moaning and whispers subsided when Draco began to mutter, clutching the bed with each word, as if it caused pain. "I made a mistake. I made a mistake." Draco muttered, over and over again. It was difficult to tell if he was conscious and saying this or the potions rendered him into a sleep state and this was a dream. "I-I m-made a m-mistake." He muttered again, shivering, like the words made him scared.

"Don't listen to him. We had to give him a potion to sedate him, so he's only dreaming." A nearby, female healer said, passing by and striding over to the old man. Harry knew what the mistake was, him. Dream or not, Draco thought ever giving him a chance was a mistake. Things like that carve scars into our heads and hearts.

Leaving would take the pain away, but he'd argued so much to come. Draco spoke again, soft and nearly a whisper, but Harry could hear. "H-Harry, I made a m-mistake." He said, but the next statement was so loud, everyone in the room could hear. "Please, Harry!" Draco yelled, clutched the sheets and clenched his teeth. The darkness that crawled under his skin, inched closer to his heart. He was speaking to Harry, not Lucius. So, what was the mistake?

Harry shook his head and walked over to the pale boy, grabbing a clammy hand from the sheets. He held it, hoping that the dreaming boy would somehow be soothed by his touch. It was obvious that every healer in this place was confused and hoping for the best with each potion given, as told by the array of empty bottles that littered the side table, that stood next to his bed. Vampires must not be their specialties and the venom must've been complex.

He let go and stared at his pale figure, once again, before turning away and hearing a crying moan that emitted from Draco. Harry's touch must have actually helped to soothe the medical mystery, but as Harry went to grab for the bony hand again, a firm, but shaking hand gripped his wrist, a healer. "Please, be extremely careful and refrain from touching him. We are uncertain of what could worsen his condition." The black haired healer said, with a scarily deep and demanding voice.

Just as he finished, Draco spoke. "H-Harry... I am s-s-s" He didn't finish before the healer pushed him out of the way and many healer's crowded around Draco. Harry heard one of the call him "unstable", which caused Harry to simply run out of the room and side down the nearest wall. Not crying, but laying his head in his hands and attempting to refrain from thinking.