Story has been updated a little and have some minor changes that DO NOT alter the current line whatsoever, but is a little more enjoyable to read now. However, it is still not beta-ed, if you would like to do this story that favor, please message me!

It was a normal day. The sun shone bright, all was well in the wizarding world.

Except maybe for the raiding party furiously throwing hexes, on a desolated side of Knockturn alley. Mostly dark curses were violently exploding down walls, cracking or scorching stone here and there, heads would pop like moles out of holes, a hex would be thrown and then the head would hide with the expertise and flow of someone doing this for years, and men! …They might as well had been on hiding for years.

Aurors were on the opposite side of the conflict, as expected, holding down as they could the situation. The most riskier ones were trying to win ground on the alley, but with all the curses going on, that was nearly a suicide wish.

So then it was time to get the big guys out. Red sparks went flying up to the upmost wall of the alley.

A pop sounded near one of the Aurors, turning, a Redhead saw with bliss and a welcoming, but weary, smile on his lips the silhouette of his partner, friend and most brilliant Auror in the department –and himself too– appear and clap his shoulder. Not saying anything, just nodding to get the briefing.

Obviously, they would bring Harry to this case, thought Ron, giving him the warm-up as fast and exact as he could get with the explosions bursting and interrupting him, but Harry was rapt, hearing him well enough to have a scowl firmly parked on his brow.

Wand on hand, Harry did what he always did, started to get the Aurors whom were nearer to do exactly what always got them out of this kind of situations unscathed and safely home. Getting a few orders here and there, the group started the formation, the ones nearer the wall approached the suicidal squad in the front to let them know Harry was there and the new plan of action.

All set, Harry gave the sign to Ron, who just nodded curtly and began chanting. Other three Aurors did too. They were few in number but cleverer in matters of handling Dark wizards trying to break havoc on his territory.

Harry did not chant, but was in charge of setting up wards for them. Since Ron, Amanda –another Auror whom he commanded to step up with them, who was also as brilliant and quick-handed when throwing defensive spells was called for–, and him were going to approach the hostile group and force them down with direct hexes and not the hide and seek game they were playing until now.

Harry was assigned to most cases, but as backup. He was not given Hero privileges or anything. He just had a life and also appreciated his safety, so he made a pretty damn good impression of himself and were posted as near as Head of Aurors he could be: Head of a Hit-Wizard Division for quick not-so-demanding cases and Backup Senior Auror for these particular cases. He was okay with that. It cost him three full years of full time hands-on Auror duty, but it was worth it.

Now he just seemed to get to the places to get things done. As expected.

And yes, he got the job done.

As they stepped out of the alley wall, with thick wards around them, the hexes from the other side ceased for a split second, but then they became nastier and even angrier. This was not a game anymore, hopefully, the incantation the other Aurors were supporting, made that kind of hexes harmless upon casting.

Harry started getting his curses out, as powerful and legal as possible. Ron too was quick to follow while Amanda helped putting up shields, to block whatever else could or might get past Harry's wards. Some minutes into this slow curse, advance, curse, pause, curse, rhythm; something went flying over them like a torpedo aimed to harm.

Amanda was quick to put a shield up a meter in front of them but the object went by as if nothing could stop it, directly to her face.

Auror and Quidditch reflexes did Harry no good when he catched the object with his left hand, without even thinking, two inches from Amanda's forehead.

The ball, a green crystal clear sphere started to cloud inside and became even murkier and in seconds it was dark-acid green and burning Harry's hand like a branding stick.

Shouting, Harry tried to get rid of the ball, and throw curses still. By now, seven out of the other twelve Dark wizards were out scattered away from the others, some really badly injured, but his companions were paying no mind to them.

The pain, burning sensation and burnt flesh smell got Harry sufficiently worked up to fire a curse barely legal which Hermione had been strongly against him using nowhere around people or even in almost live-or-die situations if there were people around him.

Fuck it. Ron could stand it and Amanda was desperately strengthening his own wards.

He leaped to his feet one second not knowing when he kneeled down. Then he motioned a wide circle with his wand arm, like throwing a lash, pointing at the Dark wizards left there.

"Hostibus Exarserit!" he cried out loud over the searing sensation and adrenaline.

All bodies fell to the floor convulsing violently for a few seconds and then went rigid like with a body binding spell, Ron and Amanda made faces of pain which were almost gone when they turned to him.

In a hiss, Harry managed to mutter "Please take care of them," teeth bared and dropping to his knees one more time grabbing his wrist which he felt was about to split or detach from his body. The ball was still dark, the cloud of smoke inside was swirling furiously. Harry tried a couple of spells to get it off but nothing was happening.

"Agramento!" he shouted angrier than when he casted the mind flaring curse, but that only made the ball swirl more.

Ron was beside him trying to think of something, Amanda was nowhere near, maybe taking the Dark wizards bodies together with the other Aurors, since they knew that Ron was enough to be around Harry when they were busy cleaning up.

However, he felt the ball burn more intently the next minute; he bit down on his lip to stop from shouting even more. This made it draw blood instantly. The sphere glowed vivid green when a drop of his blood dripped and touched its surface, then it rolled and disappeared inside Harry's hand like melting ice. And sure it felt cold too, but all his body felt cold next, and he started shivering uncontrollably.

He mumbled something to Ron who had him already gathered up on his arms and told him to brace himself since he was going to apparate.

Well, that lasted and eternity and when they reached St. Mungo's, Harry already passed out, cold, purple lipped, eyes rolling back and all.

-.-.-

Ron was pacing up and down the corridor out of Harry's room; Hermione, Ginny and Arthur were there. Mrs. Weasley was taking care of Rose at the Burrow.

Ginny was leaning against the wall opposite the waiting couch, Mr. Weasley was sitting next to Hermione who had his face against her knees, hands clasped together in front of her crown.

"Ron, drilling the floor won't get you to Harry," observed Ginny on a clipped and low voice, but gently.

"Maybe we could knock? Surely, they had some news by now."

Just right when Mr. Weasley was voicing his thought, the door to the room swooshed open and a tall figure followed by two nurses, came out of the room. The nurses bowed them. One entered the room again; the other nurse stepped aside and went away with a thick file, hurrying off to archive it.

"Malfoy?!" was the croak who left Ron's mouth, making him wince, clear his throat politely and then phrase the question again. Grudge gone and all, Ron was still weary of the Malfoy name, even after this particular one redeemed himself in the best manner possible.

Draco Malfoy became a Healer. A rather fine Healer. He was vastly knowledgeable on Potions and an expert on Curses and Dark ailments caused by them.

Funny, thought Ron, that he was going to treat Harry. But he stuck with being polite for Harry's sake and only his sake.

"Healer Malfoy," he corrected with a nod of acknowledgement "How is he? When is he going to wake up?"

"Mr. Weasley… and family," Malfoy answered also politely curt, putting his eyes on all of them one by one in one fluid motion. "Mr. Potter appears to be fine. We didn't find the sphere you described inside any of his organs or body parts, solidified at least." Uneasy pause.

"However, there is a curse on him, which I will have to keep on checking and investigating. It is something rather unique." When he saw mouths about to open, not only in front of him, but also at the back, he quickly added, "It is very serious but nothing is threatening his life at the immediate moment. He is stable, the coldness which accompanied him over here is gone, and it was his body's response to fighting off the curse as the immunologic system will do for a common illness," he explained on his most professional tone.

Sighs were collective on the hallway and Hermione stood up at last, Ron was at a loss of words now. Malfoy thought that was her cue, and that was their mechanics, as a married couple will be expected to act, when one failed, the other would be there holding on. Malfoy almost sighed.

"Can we go inside? Even if he is not awake, we want to see him," her voice small, it did not seem at all like her, the strong and collected Ministry worker she was.

"You shall, but only after the nurse is done with the last check-up," he looked at his watch briefly "She should be done by now."

Just a handful of seconds after, the nurse opened the door, wide eyed, speaking directly to Malfoy.

"He, He is awake, Mr. Malfoy, but, He…" the nurse pursed her lips in a worried fashion she was used to do when something out of the ordinary happened with his patients –which was awfully constant– so she just shook her head and stepped aside the open door.

Malfoy was quick to follow, he motioned the nurse to close the door and hold the anxious waiters outside.

Surprisingly, Potter was up and more to that, sitting on the bed as if he just had a nap. Draco swiped his wand and the desired file appeared on his hand. He took a short magic quill from his inner pocket and stared at Harry intently.

Harry looked at him in surprise, as if he was trying to remember Malfoy, but also as if he could not associate him with the room he was in.

"How are you feeling Mr. Potter?" was Malfoy's only question.

Potter kept his eyes on him some more; he seemed to be deciding on an answer.

"I feel… fine, I guess," he said, in a low voice, sounding too hoarse and whispery. He thought it was due to his fore-night trip to lalaland.

However, Malfoy's expression was all but good. It seemed a theatre. His neck was thigh, one of the muscles on his jaw was flinching slightly every two seconds and his eyes were stuck on a fixed position.

For a solid minute, the blonde just started at him. Redness was creeping through his neck, but he blinked and a second away, it was as if nothing had happened. The professional demeanor was back on his face like a mask set in place.

Harry frowned when Malfoy just scribbled something down.

"Is something the matter, Healer Malfoy?" Harry said at last, opting for maintaining the politeness between them.

Malfoy looked up at him when he said his name, brow fussing slightly, then not. He opened his mouth as if to answer him, but he closed it again, looking fully at him. He approached him by the side. His wand moved a few times… No answer was given.

"Are you going to answer me or not, Malfoy?" Harry started feeling just a tad exasperated at this.

Malfoy looked him up in the eye when he said his name, lips pursing in concentration this time.

"I am afraid, Mr potter," he said at last, and Harry internally sighed, finally answers! "…that I cannot understand what you are saying. Please be prudent when I tell you this, you will need to stay in this room for a few more days at this given situation." He paused.

Harry opened his mouth as if to demand him to go on, but Malfoy raised his hand to stop him and went on, with a gentler, even condescending voice now, "You are speaking in Parseltongue, Potter," was his statement. "You seem to be under a tongue-binding spell. Why Parseltongue? It is something I will immediately look up, and this adds up to the effects of the curse you were bound to by that Dark sphere. So far, the only one shown," he paused one more time.

This time Harry could see the struggle in Malfoy's eyes, even with his professional and polite mask on, his grey eyes let much about what he was feeling –uneasiness, contempt, anxiety and most of it intrigue–, or was it Harry's sharp Auror-trained instinct letting him know this? Moreover, how was he so collected after hearing the current state of his own health?

Malfoy blinked slowly and shook his head, "I will let your family know your state." He transfigured some objects from a near table to a muggle notebook and a muggle marker. Harry was surprised it was not parchment and quill.

He looked with bewilderment, and thought the look Malfoy gave him was of understanding, and that caught him off guard. "I would suggest you to refrain from speaking at all to them given the circumstances, as not to augment their shock. They have worried enough for the last 13 hours." The mask of professionalism was in place again, and his stand was taut and detached.

Harry nodded and raised the marker, wrote very quickly on the page and showed his brief "Thank you" to Malfoy, whom just nodded once again in that curt fashion, approaching the door with any further ado.

-.-.-

"Oh! Harry!" was the little whimper Hermione left after seeing he was okay, but as Malfoy said, he could not speak at the moment. She stared at him, and Malfoy ended up also telling them about the parseltongue part but as if he planned in telling them all along. "You are going to be okay," she whispered and came near him to hug him in one of her welcoming warmth-casting hugs.

"Even though I don't still trust him, he speaks like he knows, and has your case under control. You will be alright, I will make sure of it," was Ron's firm and comforting verdict.

"Is it true for sure?" Said Ginny from behind Ron and Hermione, staring directly at him.

He nodded but she kept on staring. So Harry sighted and said "It's true" as if intending to tell it in English, like his own will of changing his language will be enough to let him speak English again. But on his mind, and to his ears he was talking in English.

Hermione gaped, Ron scowled and Mr. Weasley shifted uneasily from the chair he was seated. Ginny, on the other hand, went on staring, not giving in.

"Say something else. Tell me your birthday, the message on the snitch Dumbledore gave you or the name of your muggle cousin. Tell me something else!" her voice was not raised, but the beat of her statement declared she was upset, not at all okay with Harry's condition. Of all of them, Ginny hated the Dark Arts and Dark artefacts more because of the diary experience. She looked at him without blinking, waiting, but he could make the shine at the corner of her eyes were building tears.

Harry said it, even when Malfoy told him not to speak. He had to do that for Ginny, she needed the confirmation, and to overcome the shock. If Malfoy was to find the counter-curse, Ginny will not rest until he did.

At last, she nodded, face falling, shoulders hunching. Harry saw the tears but moved his eyes away not to betray her and focused on Ron. He wrote, 'I'll be fine,' for him and Hermione to see and, 'Bring the others along when they can,' for Mr. Weasley, who scowled at him and said, booming, "They will come as soon as the news is out in the family, I'll bring them tomorrow."

"We will shush the reporters," said Hermione a little bit exasperated and turning back to being herself if just for a minute. "They know not a bit of privacy respect or Hospital-driven restraint. Good luck there's some of the Hit Wizards from your and Ron's group with us here, they volunteered to get them out and force them away for the term of your stay here," she smiled a little, shifting like she wanted to hug him once more.

He did not let her but smiled warmly at her, then wrote, 'You all should rest.' He hoped they understood his cue and left him to rest. Even when he woke up without any side effects, now he was feeling growingly tired.

Ginny took the hint, since she was keeping track of him whenever he scribbled, but not looking at him directly, and said, "Let's go people, let Harry rest."

Everyone bid their good byes, Ginny lingered behind, and Harry understood why. "Even though we are not together any longer, you know I will not rest until you are back to normal." He just nodded for her. "So, please be safe. I, I'm here, this time I will wait."

She had not said those words for a long, long time, and since they were out now, Harry let out a deep sigh of relief when she closed the door. That was a healed wound now.

With that in mind he moved, leaving the notebook on the bedside table, to get some sleep, eyes shutting on their own on him.

-.-.-

Back at his office, in the privacy of his four walls, Malfoy sat quietly, with a hand on his chest. His mask was still in place, but his head was burning with a thousand degrees flames.

He was in shock, all unethically and unprofessionally speaking, in shock. One thing was properly seeing Harry Potter for the first time since his trial after the war, entering his ward and then being assigned to him only. Then another much entirely, reality contorting, was hearing Harry speaking in bloody parseltongue again.

He thought about it on his way to his office, it gave him time to compose himself, to deal with his own sensations. Sensations he ruled over by now, and thought they ought not to show at all.

He breathed slowly, counting the seconds between inhalations and exhalations. It was strange, he was composed and calm, but the pang his heart and stomach had performed when hearing Potter speaking in parseltongue felt so foreign to him.

It was even amusing how he could not grasp the full swing of that feeling. He though it was surprise. he way his stomach had flipped upon hearing a particular word that sounded strangely exactly to his family name spoken out of Potters mouth, was definitely not shock or surprise.

If he could give it a name, it would not be arousal but had it really been, Excitement?