When Draco Malfoy suddenly awoke again, Lucius and Narcissa had already quietly left.
The moonlight was dim, the night was deep, and the ward was dark and gloomy. The candlelight flickered, a mournful wind blew, and the air was desolate and deathly still.
The tranquil atmosphere cast a painful reflection, and Draco sighed in exasperation, wondering if he was hallucinating—he could hear the sound of bones growing in his ears.
When the pain struck, he felt an overwhelming sense of desolation.
He was the only one in the ward.
Or perhaps not.
In the darkness, he keenly heard a faint rustling sound.
"Who is it?" Draco asked warily, a sharp pain shooting through him as he spoke.
"It is me." That was Harry's voice.
"What are you doing here, Harry?" Draco asked, somewhat confused.
Harry did not get the Golden Snitch... He must be furious right now.
Harry probably will not want to talk to me any more, Draco thought to himself, feeling sorry for himself.
"I wanted to see if you were all right. That rogue Bludger seemed to be aimed at me, and you were affected by it." There was a hint of guilt in Harry's voice.
Harry would think that? Draco was extremely surprised.
Harry does not care who caught the Snitch, nor who lost the match; instead, he is worried about me? Amidst the pain, a faint, strange feeling welled up in Draco's heart.
Harry seems to genuinely consider me a friend.
"That is none of your business. I should have been more alert and dodged it," Draco said. His jaw twitched as he spoke, his face growing paler. "In fact, this match was not fair. You spent almost half the time dodging that rogue Bludger instead of looking for the Snitch."
Deep down, Draco wanted a fairer playing environment.
He was no longer the naive boy from his past life who used pranks to skirt the line.
He...did not want to win unfairly.
He wanted to see if he could beat Harry based solely on his own strength.
At that moment, Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak. His face suddenly appeared above Draco's line of sight. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then suddenly perked up his ears and froze on the spot.
"Listen!" he said frantically to Draco. "Who is talking?" He leaned close to the stone wall by Draco's bed, listening intently whilst glancing around.
"What?" Draco asked, puzzled.
He heard nothing but Harry's voice.
"That voice—do not speak yet—"
Harry's face vanished abruptly above Draco's line of sight, stirring a slight breeze. He seemed to be tracking an invisible monster, darting rapidly past the row of beds in the Hospital Wing, urgently calling out, "Listen!"
"There is nothing there!" Draco said, wondering if there was something wrong with his eardrums.
Harry did not say anything more. He stopped walking. He stood frozen in the corner for a long time, finally lowering his head.
"It is gone now." Draco heard his frustrated voice coming from the other end of the ward.
"I did not hear anything," Draco said with difficulty, his limbs screaming in pain.
"That is not surprising." Harry sat back down by Draco's bed and said dejectedly, "Hermione and Ron did not hear it last time either; they thought I was mad."
He asked Draco, his tone dejected, "You think so too, right?"
The moonlight flickered, and the clouds dispersed. In the bright moonlight streaming through the window, Draco slowly raised his head a little, finally able to see Harry's face clearly—he saw Harry smiling bitterly.
"I do not think so," Draco said seriously, no longer caring about the pain.
Hurried footsteps sounded, the sound coming from outside the Hospital Wing.
"Hide quickly!" Draco said urgently, pretending to be asleep and closing his eyes. Harry hurriedly hid under Draco's bed, the thick sheet hanging down beside the bed blocking his view and preventing any prying eyes from looking under the bed.
"What is going on?" Draco could not turn his head, but he could tell it was Madam Pomfrey's voice, which had risen several octaves.
"Another attack." It was Professor Dumbledore's old and weary voice as he slowly said, "Minerva found him on the stairs."
There was a rustling sound, as if someone was moving something.
"Could he have taken pictures of the attackers?" Professor Dumbledore asked, a hint of anticipation in his voice.
A pungent smell of burning plastic gradually wafted from next door. Draco could not help but wrinkle his nose slightly in the darkness.
"By Merlin! It is all melted!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.
Several professors exclaimed in shock. After exchanging a few anxious words, they hurriedly left.
Madam Pomfrey went to Draco's bedside and checked on him. Draco immediately pretended to be asleep. Not finding anything amiss, she poured some more Dreamless Sleep Potion into his mouth, hurriedly left, and closed the door of the Hospital Wing.
When all was quiet, Harry crawled out from under the bed again. He did not say anything to Draco immediately, but instead made his footsteps echo at the bedside next door.
"It is Colin Creevey, he is Petrified." After a moment of silence, Harry returned to Draco's bedside and said gravely, "I saw him before I came, and he asked me where I was going. He must have been following me. Good heavens, it is all my fault! I thought… I had shaken off his pursuit."
"What does this have to do with you?" Draco hissed, barely suppressing the excruciating pain of his bones growing. "It is not as if you Petrified him."
Draco's heartless words gave Harry a strange, inappropriate sense of comfort.
Deep down, he had a similar thought. He truly had nothing to do with this matter!
Like everyone else, he was shocked and heartbroken by the news of Mrs Norris being Petrified!
But why would Filch suspect him?
He did nothing. Why was Mr Filch so adamant that he was the one who Petrified Mrs Norris? Lately, the caretaker had been following him around, feeling that he should be held responsible and at least give a reasonable explanation.
"I will be watching you." He remembered Mr Filch's gloomy face and what he had said.
Even under Mr Filch's relentless surveillance, some gossip had begun to spread around him—some students had started to whisper amongst themselves that he was the heir to the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin.
This panicked him. He remembered what the Sorting Hat had told him, that he would succeed in Slytherin. Could he be a Slytherin? Could he be the heir to Slytherin?
In his confusion and anxiety, Harry desperately needed someone to step forward and speak up for him in his defence.