'You're not fine,' said Charlie decidedly, although he let go of Draco's arm. 'You just nearly got yourself killed. And that's my jacket.'
'Oh, what, you want it back now?'
'No, I don't want it back. I want you to stop being a complete prat and come back to the tent and get some sleep. And eat something.
And maybe get your stomach pumped. You don't look good.'
'But I feel good,' said Draco, opening up his silver-black eyes very wide. 'I feel great. I feel like I could do anything. I could fly, I could ride a dragon, I could — ' He broke off and looked at Charlie intently.
'What would you say if someone offered you powers that would allow you to rule the whole wizarding world?'
'I'd say ruling the world isn't all it's cracked up to be,' said Charlie gently. 'Long hours, waving at people all the time, never your own boss…'
'And now with the mockery.'
'I'm not mocking you,' said Charlie, gently. 'I'm worried about you.
Trying to feed yourself to dragons, asking me crazy questions, I know you've been through a lot lately but — '
'You don't know. Even I don't know. I can't believe I'm even confused about this. What's to be confused about? On one hand, certain death. On the other hand, power and eternal life and all my wishes granted. I could be young and pretty forever. Not everyone can say that.' He looked up at Charlie and shook his head. 'I hate Harry. This is all his fault.'
'What the bleeding hell does any of this have to do with Harry?'
said Charlie in exasperation. 'Okay, that's about enough.' He reached out and grabbed at Draco's wrist, meaning to pull the boy away from his broom — and sucked in his breath in surprise. Without thinking, he exclaimed, 'What's happened to you?'
Draco's head went up, his eyes narrowing.
Charlie could feel the shocked blood pounding in the wrist that he held, cold blood under colder skin — someone with a body temperature that low must be dying, he thought.
Draco looked at him, and his eyes showed anxiety but no surprise.
'Did I hurt you?'
'You're freezing cold,' said Charlie. 'Like ice…are you ill?'
'It's happening fast,' said Draco. 'Isn't it?'
Charlie just stared at him.
'I should go,' said Draco, retrieving his wrist. Charlie let him. 'Don't tell anyone I was here.'
'Draco,' said Charlie, trying to sound patient, 'I can't do that. You nearly got yourself killed tonight, do you realize that?'
Draco looked at Charlie, the moonlight striking cold white sparks from his eyes. He said, ''Don't force me to make you forget you ever saw me.'
Charlie blinked. 'I'd really rather,' he said slowly, not quite sure that he meant it, but wanting to mean it, 'that you didn't go.'
'You know I can do it,' said Draco, as if Charlie hadn't spoken.
'Promise me.'
'I-' Charlie cleared his throat, feeling suddenly both bewildered and uneasy. 'What makes you think I'd keep a promise like that?'
'You're a Weasley,' said Draco, hoisting his Firebolt. 'You won't lie.'
'All right,' said Charlie. 'I'll promise. On one condition.'
'What?'
'Let me get you some food and a change of clothes, at least.'
Draco looked at him blankly for a moment before nodding. Charlie took off jogging towards his tent, his mind racing even faster than his feet. Something very odd is going on, he thought, as he threw together a quick bundle of food and some clothes — some jeans and a pile of sweaters, the boy was obviously freezing. But it's June, said a voice in the back of his head. Why is he so cold?
He was halfway positive that Draco would be gone by the time he got back, but he was still there, a quiet and oddly forlorn huddle of dark clothing and pale, untidy hair sitting at the base of the tree, holding his Firebolt across his lap as if it were a weapon.
Charlie stopped dead and stared at him. 'Draco,' he said. 'Where's the sword? Did Sirius take it?'
'I gave it away,' said Draco, standing up and flashing Charlie an smile that would give him nightmares for several years. 'It'll come back. It's with me now, even when it isn't with me.' With which nonsensical statement he reached out and took the bundle of clothes and food out of Charlie's unresisting hands.
'Be careful,' said Charlie, realizing how inadequate this sounded.
'Come back if you need — '
'Thanks, Charlie,' Draco interrupted, got on his Firebolt, and took off.
Charlie was both sorry and not sorry to see him go.
Lupin followed Sirius down the crowded hallway at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. As they approached the room where they had been told Dumbledore was, they saw a crowd of people gathered there. Reporters — Lupin recognized the banana-yellow robes and glittering spectacles of Rita Skeeter — doctors, and half-hysterical Ministry beaurocrats milled about like ants.
Sirius and Lupin pushed their way through the knot of people, only to be stopped at the door by a white- coated mediwizard wearing glasses and a harassed expression. He threw out an arm to block their progress. 'This
