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The first thing Harry hears upon his return to consciousness is… silence. An unnatural, hushed sort of silence all around him, unbroken by anything, that reminds him of deathbeds and funerals.
For one wild moment, he wonders if he’s dead. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.
But the light leaking in through his closed eyelids is orange, not white, and the warmth in the air tells him he’s not at King’s Cross, or whatever that place was where he’d met Dumbledore. In addition to that, if he strains his ears, he can make out hushed whispers that seem to be coming from all the way across a large room.
The bed underneath him is soft and painfully familiar. Once he’s recognized it, it only takes him a second more to figure out where he is.
The hospital wing.
Why though? As far as he recalls, he hasn’t fallen off a broom lately, or anything…
There’s the sound of a door opening, and the whispers grow clearer. Harry can make out two or three distinct voices. He still hasn’t moved, and he doesn’t know why he’s decided against opening his eyes and informing them of the fact that’s awake. It’s probably an old habit, feigning sleep in the hospital wing, something he hasn’t let go of from his student years. That, and he still hasn’t made out who exactly the voices belong to.
‘I still don’t understand why you’re here!’ one of the voices says angrily.
‘Oh, Ron, hush, he’s asleep-’
‘I’m not being loud-’
‘Yes you are, Weasley-’
The surprise of hearing Draco Malfoy’s voice in addition to Ron and Hermione’s almost has Harry sitting up, but he just barely manages to hold himself back. If he opens his eyes now, Malfoy will shut up and Harry won’t ever find out why he’s here. Ron and Hermione, he understands - they’re practically fixtures of the hospital wing whenever he’s in here, leaving their own daily lives to come see him. Draco, though. That’s new.
‘What happened, anyway?’ asks Ron, almost belligerently.
‘Well, Weasley, don’t know if you noticed, but we were attacked-’
Oh, right. The Death Eaters. Harry remembers now, remembers being ambushed in the loo of all places, how embarrassing-
‘No, I mean, how?’ demands Ron.
‘That passage in from Honeydukes,’ sighs Malfoy. ‘They sneaked in, Stunned the shopkeepers, and took the passage in the cellar to here. Followed Potter till they could get him alone.’
In the loo. Harry suppresses a groan. He hopes no one ever finds out.
‘I found him dueling them in the loo,’ Malfoy continues, and Harry immediately wishes he was dead. ‘Four on one, the dirty bastards-’
‘Draco!’
‘What, is it rude to call them dirty bastards? Would you prefer I said uncouth gentlemen?’
Ron stifles a laugh. Harry can just imagine the reproving expression on Hermione’s face.
‘Go on,’ she says after a pause, sounding disgruntled.
‘All right, so it was four uncouth gentlemen against Potter, and he got three of them before I found him. I, ahh, may have accidentally distracted him by barging in. Fourth one got him, and then I Stunned him. Called the Headmistress, and here we are now.’
‘And you?’ asks Hermione after a moment. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Missed a Crucio, but otherwise okay,’ Malfoy says dismissively. ‘Potter got the worst of it. Got knocked into a wall when he got cursed, hit his head.’
Hermione lets out a sympathetic sound. ‘He’ll be okay, though, won’t he?’ she asks anxiously.
‘’Course he will,’ says Ron at once. ‘It’d take more than that to get rid of him.’
‘Might have lost more than a few brain cells, though,’ Malfoy adds. ‘Though I don’t suppose it will make much difference to his intelligence, overall.’
‘Oi,’ begins Ron heatedly, much to Harry’s satisfaction. At least someone is standing up for him-
‘Ron, he’s asleep!’
‘D’you expect me to just shut up while my best mate’s intelligence is being insulted-’
‘It’s Malfoy, Ron, you know he doesn’t mean it! This is just how he and Harry are! Or don’t you remember last week when Harry told us he called Malfoy uglier than a Blast-Ended Skrewt’s rear end-’
‘At breakfast, no less,’ Malfoy cuts in irritably. ‘In the Great Hall. In front of everyone.’
Ron sniggers.
‘It’s not funny, Weasley! No wonder my students don’t respect me anymore! Who’s going to respect a Potions master who gets insulted on a weekly - no, daily basis! In front of everyone!’
‘Well, it’s not like you’re taking it lying down either, is it,’ Ron points out. ‘Didn’t you say looking at him was worse than looking at a troll’s pox-ridden-’
‘Ron!’ says Hermione before he can finish. Her voice is so shrill that if Harry really was asleep, this is what would’ve woken him up.
‘I didn’t say it, Hermione, he did!’
Harry can just imagine the beatific yet smug expression on Malfoy’s face. It’s a combination he seems to have perfected to an art form.
‘You’re both acting like children, honestly-’
‘I didn’t start it!’
‘-it’s so ridiculous, really,’ Hermione goes on like Ron hasn’t spoken. ‘I think the important thing to remember is that we’re all here for Harry!’
‘Well, we are, I still don’t get why Malfoy’s here-’
‘Is it so strange that I should visit an injured colleague?’ asks Malfoy.
‘For all we know, you’re the one who injured him and now you’re here to finish the job!’
‘Really, Weasley? Well in that case, I suppose I have to finish off you and Granger too, just to make sure there are no witnesses-’
‘No, wait a second, Ron does have a point,’ says Hermione slowly. ‘How did you know where to find Harry?’
There is an awkward silence. Harry listens in with interest, though he works very hard not to give away that he’s awake. Yes, how did Malfoy know? Has he been following Harry? Is he up to something again? Harry remembers their sixth year all too well-
Malfoy lets out a little cough. ‘I may have been… keeping an eye on Potter’s whereabouts.’
‘You were following him, you mean,’ Ron says.
‘No, I was not following him, Weasley, it’s a bit more nuanced than that-’
‘You were stalking him!’ accuses Ron.
‘Is this another prank war?’ Hermione sounds exasperated. ‘Because I thought Professor McGonagall made you stop-’
She had, Harry remembers grudgingly. But if she hadn’t, he would definitely have won. Definitely.
‘First of all, Granger, if you think we don’t have our ways of continuing under McGonagall’s nose, you’re not as smart as I thought. Secondly - as much as it pains me to admit it - no, I was not actually following him just to prank him.’
‘So you do admit you were following him!’ Hermione sounds so pleased with herself that she entirely ignores the slight to her intelligence. Meanwhile, not trusting Malfoy at all, Harry makes a mental note to check all his underpants for Itching Jinxes later.
‘I’ve already said I wasn’t following him-’
‘Then how did you know where to find him?’ challenges Ron.
‘Well, the sounds of dueling were kind of a dead giveaway-’
‘Wasn’t that happening on the other side of the castle from the Potions classroom?’ Hermione asks shrewdly.
‘I wasn’t actually in the Potions classroom, I was walking by, and-’
‘You just said you were following him-’
‘Stalking, more like-’ cuts in Ron.
‘For the love of Merlin, no, not following, I was-’
‘Don’t say keeping an eye on his whereabouts-’
‘That is what I was doing-’
‘But why?’ demands Ron.
‘Because I was going to ask him out!’ bursts out Malfoy, stunning everyone into silence. Harry’s eyes fly open in surprise, but no one’s looking at him - both Ron and Hermione’s gazes are fixed on Malfoy.
‘You were what?’ Ron repeats, looking like someone’s hit him in the face with the business end of a broomstick.
Malfoy’s face is so red it would be funny in any other circumstance. ‘I wanted some privacy, so I was just waiting for him to be done with the loo, how was I supposed to know he’d get attacked in there?’
‘I mean, it’s Harry,’ Hermione says after a moment, still looking a little dazed. ‘Knowing him, it was bound to happen at some point-’
‘What do you mean, ask him out?’ Ron repeats, interrupting.
‘What do you think I mean?’
‘Malfoy, if this is a joke or something-’
‘Why would I joke about this?’ Malfoy asks irritably. ‘It’s hardly funny! Can you imagine someone like me, wanting to go out with someone like Potter? He thinks jeans are a formal outfit!’
‘Wait, really?’ Hermione asks with interest, distracted.
‘He wore them when I invited him to dinner with my mother-’
‘He had dinner with your mother?’ Ron cuts in.
‘After she got over the shock of the pants, yes,’ Malfoy answers.
‘For your information she said they were interesting!’ Harry bursts out, completely forgetting himself.
There is another silence as all three of them turn to look at him. Ron and Hermione look ecstatic to see him awake, while Malfoy is turning red again. It clashes horribly with his hair, in Harry’s opinion.
‘Harry!’ Hermione says, and throws her arms around him as he sits up. Harry winces as pain flares up in his ribs, but hugs her back gingerly.
‘Careful, he’s got two freshly repaired ribs,’ Malfoy reminds her.
She ignores him. ‘I’m so glad you’re all right!’ she says, letting go.
Ron takes the opportunity to thump Harry on the shoulder, making him wince again.
‘And a broken collarbone,’ Malfoy adds, in the tone of someone who knows they won’t be listened to.
‘How’s your head?’ Ron asks Harry, ignoring Malfoy much like Hermione had.
Harry feels at it with his hand. ‘Uh, feels fine.’
‘No bigger than usual, then?’ Malfoy asks, trying for casual and failing.
‘That’s rich coming from you, Mister My Father Will Hear About This-’ Harry begins heatedly.
‘Just so you know, Potter,’ Malfoy cuts in, crossing his arms, ‘when my mother said your pants were interesting, what she really meant was hideous.’
‘They’re not hideous!’ Harry shouts. ‘They’re my best pair of jeans!’
‘They’re jeans!’ Malfoy fires back. ‘It was clearly meant to be a formal occasion-’
‘Well, you just said it was dinner!’
‘It was Mother’s birthday dinner, you moronic, insufferable twat-’
‘Let’s leave them alone for a bit,’ Hermione whispers to Ron.
‘You don’t think they’re going to start dueling, do you?’ Ron asks, looking a little too excited at the prospect.
‘No, Ron, let’s go-’ She tugs him to his feet, and they both make a quick escape, Ron throwing a disappointed look over his shoulder at the thought of possibly missing an epic duel.
Harry ignores them entirely. ‘Well, you could’ve told me it was her birthday, how was I supposed to know-’
‘Because I mentioned it-’
‘And besides, you’re one to talk! You showed up to Teddy’s birthday in dress robes and that poncy cane! You looked like a right wanker-’
‘Just because I was the only one dressed appropriately for the occasion-’
‘It was a child’s fifth birthday party! The invitations said to dress for comfort!’
‘Well, I was! You, on the other hand, wore joggers!’
‘Comfortable joggers-’
‘Joggers nevertheless! To a celebration!’ Malfoy looks positively aghast.
‘Well, clearly it doesn’t bother you that much, since you still wanted to ask me out!’ Harry retorts.
‘Believe me, it’s not as if I can help it!’ Malfoy fires back. ‘If I had any measure of control over my feelings I’d have chosen someone much better dressed, believe me you!’
‘And I’d have chosen someone much less pretentious-’
‘Oh, that’s a big word, Potter, learn it all by yourself, did you?’
‘Oh sod off, Malfoy, you know damn well I’m right-’
‘Well, if I am to go out with you then you have to dress better, all right?’ interjects Malfoy. ‘I can’t be seen in public with someone who looks like he just rolled out of bed - and the hair! Dear Merlin-’
‘I can’t control the hair!’ Harry retorts. ‘And just so you know, I refuse to go out with you if you insist on dressing like you butchered a peacock and had a roll in its feathers!’
‘Fine!’ snaps Malfoy.
‘Good!’ snaps Harry.
‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ Malfoy all but snarls.
‘Whatever,’ Harry retorts, before going still immediately as Malfoy’s words register. But by then it’s too late - Malfoy, smirking, is already leaning in, and the next thing Harry knows they’re kissing.
It’s not bad, actually. Malfoy’s pretty good at it. Harry lets out a small sound of surprise and leans into it, reciprocating, hands tangling in Malfoy’s robes, while Malfoy slides a hand in Harry’s hair-
‘No kissing in the hospital wing!’
They break apart immediately at the sound of Madam Pomfrey’s voice as she comes bustling out of her office. ‘Really, and from teachers too!’ she admonishes. ‘I’d have expected better from you! Professor Malfoy, please let go of my patient right now!’
Malfoy does so, looking smug. Harry, in contrast, can feel himself going red in the face.
‘If this happens again I shall have to ban you!’ Madam Pomfrey informs Malfoy. ‘Are we understood?’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Malfoy says at once, making a great show of keeping his hands off Harry.
She gives him one last suspicious glance before turning around and returning to her office.
‘That went well,’ Malfoy comments once she’s gone.
‘Yes, well-’ Harry mumbles.
‘Don’t you do that again, though,’ Malfoy cuts in, getting off his chair and sitting at the edge of Harry’s bed.
‘Do what?’
‘That,’ Malfoy says nonsensically, waving a hand in Harry’s general direction.
Harry understands. ‘Well, it’s not like I can control getting hurt! I certainly didn’t choose to be ambushed in the loo-’
‘Just - don’t do it, okay?’ snaps Malfoy.
‘Aw, were you worried?’ Harry teases.
Malfoy raises a brow at him. ‘Don’t make me jinx you, Potter.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ dismisses Harry, ‘’cause you like me-’
‘You are such a child-’
‘You like me.’
‘Potter, I am warning you-’
‘You like me!’
‘Potter-’
‘Like-like me-’
‘I will curse you, make no mistake-’
It’s not a very effective threat, considering Malfoy is nudging Harry over and getting in next to him in the bed. Harry grins widely as he lies on his side to face Malfoy. ‘No, you won’t, because you fancy me,’ he sings, perfectly aware he’s being childish, and not caring at all.
‘I don’t even care that you’re injured, I will end you,’ Malfoy tells him, throwing an arm around him.
‘No you won’t,’ Harry repeats, closing his eyes, still smiling.
‘Shut up, Potter.’
‘D’you think Pomfrey’ll care that you’re in bed with me when she wouldn’t even let you kiss me?’
Malfoy snorts. ‘Let her try and stop me.’ Then, a moment later, ‘Goodnight.’
‘’Night, Malfoy,’ Harry replies contentedly, throwing a leg around Malfoy.
‘Ugh. Your feet are freezing.’
‘Shut up, Malfoy.’