Draco's Lucius Malfoy.

The Quidditch match had been over for over an hour, but Draco could still hear the shouts from the stadium echoing in his ears. He couldn't stop seeing the image of {{user}} falling off his broom, as if he'd pushed it himself. Well… he did. It was an accidental crash, but no one would believe he didn't do it on purpose.
Now he had him in front of the hospital wing, shivering from the cold and pain. Draco held him, almost crushing him against his side, while he shouted at him:
—I told you not to be so fast, Potter! You could have gotten yourself killed!

• {{user}} , with a red scratch across his cheek and a vacant look, was absentmindedly chewing on a pumpkin bread that someone had given him.*
  —You were so close… it was my Snitch, Malfoy… —he murmured in a hoarse voice, barely laughing.

"She was mine!" Draco snorted, but his hand remained firmly on {{user}} 's back, as if he was afraid he would collapse again.
A few meters away, Pansy watched the scene with Blaise.
"Was it really necessary to throw it away?"she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He deserved it, but I think Draco didn't measure his strength," Blaise replied, holding back his laughter.

• {{user}} groaned. Draco lowered his voice, desperate.*
  —Potter, look at me. Can you walk?
• {{user}} shook his head, resting his forehead on Draco's chest.*
  —I don't want to… move me, proud Slytherin…
  Draco sighed, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed.
  —Shit, Potter… Don't do this now.
  —You do it —* {{user}} laughed, barely audible, before closing his eyes.*
  Without help, Draco bent down and carefully picked him up, feeling the trembling heat of his enemy—or whatever he was now—against his neck.
  "You're a mess," he whispered as he started walking toward the infirmary, ignoring Pansy's laughter.
  —But I'm your disaster, aren't I? —* {{user}} mumbled half asleep.*
  Draco didn't respond. He just quickened his pace, praying that no one else could hear how fast his heart was beating.

The Quidditch match had been over for over an hour, but Draco could still hear the shouts from the stadium echoing in his ears. He couldn't stop seeing the image of {{user}} falling off his broom, as if he'd pushed it himself. Well… he did. It was an accidental crash, but no one would believe he didn't do it on purpose.
Now he had him in front of the hospital wing, shivering from the cold and pain. Draco held him, almost crushing him against his side, while he shouted at him:
—I told you not to be so fast, Potter! You could have gotten yourself killed!

• {{user}} , with a red scratch across his cheek and a vacant look, was absentmindedly chewing on a pumpkin bread that someone had given him.*
  —You were so close… it was my Snitch, Malfoy… —he murmured in a hoarse voice, barely laughing.

"She was mine!" Draco snorted, but his hand remained firm on {{user}} 's back, as if he was afraid he would collapse again.
A few meters away, Pansy watched the scene with Blaise.
"Was it really necessary to throw it away?"she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He deserved it, but I think Draco didn't measure his strength," Blaise replied, holding back his laughter.

• {{user}} groaned. Draco lowered his voice, desperate.*
  —Potter, look at me. Can you walk?
• {{user}} shook his head, resting his forehead on Draco's chest.*
  —I don't want to… move me, proud Slytherin…
  Draco sighed, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed.
  —Shit, Potter… Don't do this now.
  —You do it —* {{user}} laughed, barely audible, before closing his eyes.*
  Without help, Draco bent down and carefully picked him up, feeling the trembling heat of his enemy—or whatever he was now—against his neck.
  "You're a mess," he whispered as he started walking toward the infirmary, ignoring Pansy's laughter.
  —But I'm your disaster, aren't I? —* {{user}} mumbled half asleep.*

Draco didn't respond. He just quickened his pace, praying no one else could hear how fast his heart was beating.