Unconscious
Alicia, still in her dark green Quidditch robes, stepped harmlessly through the glass storefront of the abandoned Purge and Dowse, Ltd., wasting no time to hurry up and snatch a place at the back of the small queue forming in front of the reception desk of St. Mungo's. Impatient at the slow progress of the queue, she began tapping her foot in agitation on the floor, ignoring the glares of the witches and wizards around her. At long last, the man standing in front of her with copious amounts of purple smoke being belched - literally - out of his ears moved off to the ward doors, and Alicia rushed up to the desk.
"I'm here to see my friend, Oliver Wood. He's just been taken here due to a Bludger injury," Alicia demanded, before the annoyed-looking Welcome Witch behind the desk could get more than a couple syllables out.
Rolling her eyes, she replied, "'Artefact Accidents,' that way. Quidditch-related injuries, first door on your left. Next!"
"Yeah, cheers to you too," Alicia muttered angrily, before hurrying off through the double doors at the end of the room, and through a smaller set of doors leading to the "Wacky Winky Shubberkins Memorial Quidditch-Related Accidents" ward. A very flustered looking Healer glared as Alicia burst into the room.
"Miss, I -" he started, but Alicia cut him off.
"I'm here to see a friend of mine, Oliver Wood, he's being treated for a Bludger injury, the mediwizards just brought him in - where is he?" She said all this very quickly, not pausing for breath.
"Um, ah, yes. Well, then," the Healer cleared his throat, clearly taken aback. "It appears that your friend should be at the last bed back there, but - hey!"
Alicia ignored the Healer and ran to the end of the ward where he had pointed, right to the very last bed where Oliver Wood lay, blue Puddlemere robes still on, his chestnut hair hidden with bloody bandages around his head. Upon reaching the bed, however, Alicia slowed, feeling uneasy at the sight of her friend in such a state.: his eyes were closed, his face unnaturally pale and sweating.
"Um, O-Oliver?" Alicia asked timidly. He gave no sign that he even heard her, and in his current fevered condition, she doubted that he did. Alicia collapsed softly into the plain wooden chair next to his bed, deeply disturbed. Throughout all the time she had known him, Oliver had always cast off this aura of strength, invincibility almost. And, as ridiculous as it sounded, she believed he was invincible; a rock, an anchor, the epitome of stability and guidance.
And now...
"What've you done to yourself, Ollie?" Alicia murmured, fondly referring to him by the nickname that bothered him so much back at Hogwarts. She placed a wet cloth on his burning-hot forehead from the water basin on his bedside cabinet, feeling her throat strangely close up on her.
"Ugh...a...Aluuh..." he muttered suddenly, his voice thick as if his cheeks were stuffed with cotton.
Alicia paused in the act of re-wetting the cloth, staring at Oliver's unconscious face with shock. He frowned, obviously in pain.
"Aluushah..." he groaned again, trying desperately to form some word.
'Alushah?' Alicia thought to herself, bewildered. 'What the hell is...'
"Oh!" she exclaimed softly, finally putting two and two together. She then grasped his hand, squeezed it, put her palm to his burning cheek. "Oliver? Can you hear me, Ollie?"
"Alushaa..."
Even as Alicia sat there, trying to rouse her friend while he tried to say her name, she knew she shouldn't be here. The ward would soon be swarmed with visitors; Oliver's parents, his friends, the rest of the Puddlemere United team, not to mention the hordes of fans and reporters wanting to see the injured star Keeper.
No, she should just wait for a few days, wait for him to heal up a bit, see his family, his friends.
She sighed, and made to stand up, when someone squeezed her hand - tightly. Alicia looked back at Oliver, calling his name lightly again.
He opened his eyes, slowly, and gave a small, weak smile as he caught sight of her.
"Alushaah..." he said in content. Alicia smiled and sat back down, knowing that she was right where she needed to be.