“Oh, does it hurt?” You said, leaning closer to Draco from his right side.

You had been out the day before on sick leave—having to stay in your dorms all day. And, it happened to be the day that Draco nearly ‘died’ from a Hippogriff. He seemed to get ahead of himself, cocky and haughty, until it clawed him and caused his limbs to lock dangerously.

“It comes and it goes. Still, I consider myself lucky,” he said, a low grin curling onto his lips as he stared down at your face. His arm was in a sling, right around his right shoulder where he was struck. Crabbe and Goyle then turned their gaze to each other, trying not to laugh. “According to Madam Pomfrey, another minute or two, and I, uh, could've lost my arm. I couldn't possibly do any homework for weeks.”

“There’s no way they’ll fall for that—“ Goyle grunted, nudging Crabbe in the stomach before his hiss of pain was cut off by your words. Draco had been hurt for a little bit, of course, but he seemed to be laying it on thick in the presence of you.