Blind - drarry

Chapter 5

Published: November 27, 2020

Updated: September 30, 2021

Over a week had gone by and he had finally managed to get all the triangles on one side. He was not discouraged, though. He would beat it. Harry often praised him for getting further than he ever got and he also stopped by almost every hour, now, causing more people to do the same. Anjos, a restaurant owner, now gave him a cup of tea and small skillet bowl every morning as he passed by, no matter if he tried to refuse or pay.

Madam Malkin hauled her son, Richard, over to make him apologize for attacking him. The boy seemed contrite, and brought him a blanket and occasionally lunch. Though he leaned into Harry every time the boy or his friends came by.

"I don't think he's gonna attack you anymore, but I like that you look to me to protect you," Harry drawled, nudging his arm.

Draco scowled and muttered, indignantly, "Go screw your-" But then stopped himself. They weren't friends, and Potter was capable of making his life hell.

"Relax, Wyvern. I was just picking on you. I like when you get salty anyway."

"Why?" Draco queried. Why would anyone want that?

"Cause you're not acting then. I don't need you to be appreciative and humble all the time. I like seeing the real you."

"The real me is a prat."

Harry laughed. "Merlin, the things you say."

Draco huffed and asked, "So... when's you patrol rotation up?"

"Still have a few more months. Don't worry. I'll still need lunch breaks. You're not getting rid of me."

"It's not necessary. I have survived on my own for nearly a year."

Harry paused, but then murmured, "Yeah, well, I suck at it."

Draco turned toward him, confused. "What?"

"I hate living alone and being alone. I get bad nightmares, and there's no one to talk to."

"Why don't you go to a mind healer?" he asked, concerned.

"I'd lose my badge. Aurors are supposed to be level-headed. Heck, they'd probably take my wand away if they asked deep enough questions," Potter admitted.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, it's relaxing to talk to you. So, it's somewhat self-serving to butter you up all the time."

Draco snorted. "And I had to suffer this whole time."

"Yeah, I'm sure. But my mates are getting married and needed a place of their own. So, I moved back home. I didn't want to walk in on them snogging... or worse."

"The horror."

"It is. Well, I have to go early for dinner tonight over at my mates' new place. So, if you are just staying here later for me... you don't have to."

He snorted. "Who's going to patrol then?"

"Oh... it's Sunday. I don't work on weekends. I just come to hang out with you."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "What... really?"

"Umm... yeah."

"It's not necessary, P-Harry," he said. It was still so weird not to call him Potter, even after a few months.

"Well, I have nothing better to do. Maybe I have dinner plans after my shift, sometimes. Or maybe I'd have to babysit my godson, and that's about it."

"They have a baby?" Draco blurted out. Potter hadn't mentioned that Weasley and Granger had a kid.

"What?" Potter said, a little surprised.

"W-Your mates?"

Potter laughed. "Oh, no. My godson is Teddy Lupin. His parents, Remus and Tonks, were killed at the Battle of Hogwarts. He's been living with his grandmother, Andromeda, right now, but I sometimes go over and help out."

"Andromeda Black," he whispered.

"Yeah... you know her?" Harry prompted.

He nodded. She was his aunt, after all. "I know of her. I've never met her." His father had ordered that his mother shun her, but she had the last laugh. She named him after the stars, like her sister, Andromeda.

"Yeah, well, Aunt Andy says she's fine caring for him, now, but if something happens or if he gets to be too much, then he's probably going to come live with me."

Draco nodded. His cousin's son was Potter's godson. Stranger things have happened.

"Well, I should probably go home to change and shower before dinner."

Draco grimaced, as it was too cold to wash in the river now.

"What's wrong?" Potter asked.

"Nothing. Enjoy your night with your mates. Thank you for checking in with me, Constable."

"Why do you call me that? You don't like calling me Harry, I've noticed."

"I don't think I have a right to call you that," he murmured. "Aside from talking to you, I've never done anything for you. I've actually done the opposite, and you've done everything for me. I'll never be able to repay for your kindness."

"Friendship doesn't require gifts or favors. You give me companionship and that's completely fine with me."

"But you shouldn't be friends with someone like me. You're one of the good guys, and I am a bad one."

"Holy Merlin. You are so dramatic. This isn't black and white and right and wrong. It's what is in your heart. Do you hate me? Do you wish me ill?"

He shook his head.

"Then that is all that matters. The past doesn't. I forgive you of anything you've ever done, as long as you see that it was wrong. Redemption is always possible, unless your soul is really gone. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, but not everyone thinks as you do, Chosen One."

"I won't hold your past over your head, Wyvern. I never will. But I'm sorry, I do have to get going."

"Goodbye... Harry."

"Thanks, Wyvern," Harry said and dropped two sickles in his cup as Draco grumbled. "For dinner, my friend."

Draco nodded in thanks. He heard Potter walk away. He worked on his puzzle and went to buy a cup of stew, but the café owner gave it to him for free. He thanked her and ate it before heading back to Knockturn Alley. He was just about to his sloped alley when someone grabbed him from behind and brought his arm behind his back. A well-placed kick shattered his guide stick and, suddenly, a knife was at his throat.

"Don't resist! Come with me!" hissed a voice in his ear.

"I will," he breathed, and the man pushed him forward past his alley and proceeded further into Knockturn. He knew they had passed by other people, and though onlookers had wands, they did nothing. He was scum in their eyes, like a white elephant. His abductor forced him to a dead-end alley that he had slept in before and kicked out his knee. He dropped to the ground, painfully.

"Oww... please..." he whimpered.

"Shut up!" his unknown assailant spat and kicked him several times in the side.

"You can take all my money... please don't hurt me," he begged, through the kicks.

"You bet I will! That Auror gives you money every day! Where is it? Accio!" he shrieked, and sickles and knuts flew out of his pockets toward the robber. "That's it?!" he roared and punched him a few times.

"I don't have anymore! I buy bread at the end of the day."

"Or you hoard it! You gutter rats are all the same."

"Please... I don't have anything else!" Draco cried, his face and side already swelling in pain.

"Let's find out, bottom feeder," he growled and patted him down. His tin cup, gloves, and even his shoes were pulled off. Draco didn't try to stop him. He stayed still and just let him do whatever. "What's this?" the man asked, as he pulled out his Rubik's cube.

Panic overtook him and he whimpered, "No... please don't take that!"

"Shut up. Is it valuable?"

"It's just a muggle toy, please!" he pleaded. It was the only thing he had.

"No, it's mine, now. Parasite," his attacker sneered.

Draco reached blindly for his leg and the man slashed at him. The knife only cut through the left sleeve of his robes, and the man hit him hard in the face with his other hand.

"Sodding wanker! Do you want to die? Wait... what's that?" he said and then stepped on his left hand. Draco left out a howl of pain, but froze when the attacker hissed, "A bloody mark! Death Eater scum are yeh?"

He felt his fear skyrocket as the knifepoint went to his neck. He thought he was going to die. "Please...."

"That's rich. An uppity pureblood begging a lowly half-blood for mercy? You assholes rejected me when you were running the Ministry, but I'll show you your place now, bastard."

"Please, I'm blind!"

"Yeh... that's true. Death is too good for you. You should suffer, but let me remind you of what you are."

He hissed in pain as the mugger cut a deep line through his mark.

"Don't ever forget what you are, scum."

Then he left him there, taking the cube. Draco cried from the pain in his side and face, but the gushing blood coming out of his arm made him move. Walking was out. He wasn't sure that his leg could support his weight, and his ribs were killing him. He wasn't far, though, and crawled to his alley and rolled down the sloping cobblestone, stopping when he hit the water. He knew that he just had to make it under the bridge, then he'd be through the Muggle-Repelling Charm. He slowly crawled down the path, losing blood and now was cold and wet, but he made it.

"Murtagh... Murtagh... please..." he called weakly, praying to whatever deity he could that he could hear him.

"Laddie?" he called back and then yelled louder. "Ralph... come help! He's hurt!"

Warm hands grabbed him and they awkwardly dragged him across the cement and into their hole.

"Who the hell would do this?" Ralphie growled.

Another voice cried in alarm. "Sweet Mary and Joesph! He's covered in blood!"

"'ho did this lad?" Murtagh growled.

"I don't know. He took my cube, my money, everything."

"Hush, boy. It's alright. Don't worry about that, cause we'll take care of you," Ralphie assured him as he gently patted his hair. He seemed as concerned as Murtagh was about him, though they barely talked.

Murtagh's calm voice cut through everything as he settled next to him. "Git a fire goin' Fergus. We gat ter clean the cut before it gets infected. Let me see yer arm," he ordered, and Draco didn't even have the strength to argue as Murtagh opened his left sleeve further. "Aye, it's deep. Get my kit, Ralph, and the roll of toilet paper out of my bag. Let's get these clothes off yeh."

"No, it hurts," he whimpered, wishing they could just magic the pain away, but they were all muggles, himself included.

"I know, boyo," he said and patted his head. A couple of the muggles helped pull the wet robes off him, but left his shirt and trousers on. "Good, lad, easy does it. The water cooking, Fergus? Good. Alright, I'm going ter take off yer blindfold, 'kay?"

"No, I'm fine," Draco whispered, trying to avoid his hands.

"Lad, come on, now. Let ol' Murtagh see it. He hit yeh pretty hard."

Murtagh didn't wait for direct permission and pulled it off. Draco didn't resist, but he hated being without it. He didn't like people looking at his perfectly normal eyes and ask if he was lying. Plus, people liked to test whether he was blind. Murtagh didn't do that. He gently pushed around his eye socket, and it did hurt a little. He then pressed against his nose, and Draco cried from the pain.

"Sorry, laddie, but it's nat broken, though. Would we 'ave some ice," the Scot muttered.

"I can go get some," someone offered and Draco felt some relief that muggles were going to help heal him, even if it was the muggle way.

"As much as yeh kin, please, Randy, thanks," Murtagh said and someone left out the hole. "'Ow's that water? Just get it scalding."

"Almost there," Fergus, he assumed, said.

"Here's your kit. Is the toilet paper gonna be enough?" Ralphie asked.

"Should be fur now. If I 'ave ter suture it, we kin go steal sum gauze. But I'll pu' an ankle wrap over it, an' if it bleeds through, we kin go from there. Tha' okey, laddie?"

Draco nodded. "I trust you." Draco didn't know what they were saying, but he had no idea how to do muggle healing. He could only hope that they would make it hurt less.

"Good lad. Brin' the water over. Alrigh', this is gonna be painful. We need ter clean it. It's covered in dirt an' we gat ter clean wit' water. It's gonna burn, but it shouldn' gat infected. Then I'll pu' sum antibiotic cream in the cut and wrap it up, okay?"

Draco nodded, as he had no way of summoning magical help. Pain was something that he was used to at this point. He could see the light of the small fire was flickering, and Murtagh called for a torch. It got brighter and Draco turned his head away.

"Good lad, stay still. We're gonna rinse it wit' cool water an' wipe it down firs'."

Draco winced as they cleaned it, and he was getting drowsy. He wanted to sleep the pain off.

"What kind of tatt is that?" Ralphie asked. Draco froze, though he doubted any of them were wizards. "Looks like they purposely cut it."

"It's not a tatt. It's a brand." Murtagh declared.

"A gang brand?"

"His 온라인카지노게임 makes sense now, an' why they cut it," the Scot declared

Draco didn't affirm it, though for muggles, "gang" would work.

"Alrigh', bite down on this lad. It'll hur'," he said and offered him a wad of cloth. He listened. The water was scalding, and they had to hold him down as they poured it into the cut. It almost hurt more than the cut itself.

"Good lad. The cream will sting, bu' naut as bad," Murtagh warned, as he smeared it on and then wrapped his arm tightly with the toilet paper and wrap. "It's not bleedin' through yet. We gat ter get his shirt off. It's soaked an' filthy. Come on, sonnie. Sit up."

He didn't even try, but Murtagh pulled him up, and he groaned in pain. They took his shirt off and cleaned the blood and dirt off. Murtagh felt his bruised side and declared that he had some ribs that might be broken that he would try to wrap it tomorrow.

"Git me an extra shirt from my bag," Murtagh asked someone, as he gently patted his back.

"T-Thank you," Draco whimpered, still racked in pain.

"I gat yeh lad. Let me find the tosser tha' did this," Murtagh huffed, as he worked the shirt on him, before settling him down in the blankets. "Grab me pillow, Ralph. The kid needs it more than I."

"No... I'm fine," Draco tried to say.

"Hush, lad. It's only gonna ter hur' more tomorrow. An' if tha' cut gits infected or yer side fills up wit' blood, we're takin' yeh ter the 'ospital. I ain' gonna let yeh lose an arm or die, an' yeh ain' gonna argue wit' me, alrigh'?

"Okay, Murtagh. Thank you."

"Yer a good lad. I jus' can't believe.... but we'll ice those bruises if Randy kin git some. Now, 're these wankers gonna keep hurtin' yeh? 'Re yeh in the middle of a gang war or somethin'?"

"No... it's over. Everyone is gone but me. That was just a lowlife who wanted to remind me I'm nothing, but I don't know if he'll do it, again."

"Well... yeh're not goin' anywhere 'til yeh heal up. Don' worry abou' food. We can find yeh sum."

"Thank you... so much," he said, before breaking down and crying. Murtagh didn't leave his side all night long.