Draco Malfoy wasn't sure how he was in the hospital. Sure, he remembered having a duel, but he couldn't remember being beaten. Surely this was a mistake. Or the other person was worse somewhere. This was probably just a check-up.
His mother coming in shocked him. The way she fussed wasn't right, it wasn't the way Narcissa Malfoy acted in public. She piled pillow upon pillow on top of him, trying to make him comfortable but only succeeding in suffocating him. He lay there, one arm broken and the other trapped beneath a mountain of pillows, seething. He was Draco fucking Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Why was he still here?
He had lost track of time when he heard footsteps come into his room. At first he thought his mother, but there wasn't the familiar clack of heels. This was a gentle slapping, like waves against a beach. He waited for them to tell him he was good to go, that him staying so long had been a misunderstanding.
"Well, Malfoy, looks like you're here for a while." The tone was amused, and Draco groaned when he realised who it was.
"Granger. What are you doing here?" His voice was muffled, and he swore he heard her laugh.
"I work here, Malfoy, what are you doing here?"
"Fight me, Granger."
She definitely laughed this time, her voice much closer to his head. She started moving his pillows, taking half of them and fixing the rest so he could rest against them comfortably. "Maybe later, Malfoy, maybe later."
He drifted in and out of consciousness, barely coming to enough to swallow the potions. He thought it was the next day before he saw Granger again.
"Why am I here?" He wheezed slightly as the Pepper-Up potion did its magic.
"Did you hit your head during your fight, Malfoy? You're here to get better." Her tone was light, mocking, but she grinned at him in a way that made his head go fuzzy. Or it was already fuzzy.
His eyes slipped closed, and he tried to talk before sleep recaptured him.
"Fight m-" He broke off halfway through, overcome by coughs. Granger rushed to his side, casting wandless diagnostic spells to make sure he was alright. When he stopped coughing and lay back, his eyes watering, she smirked at him slightly.
"I don't think I would stand a chance against you, Malfoy. Maybe another time."
He woke the next day feeling much better. His arm was healed, and his head no longer swam constantly. His mother came in, and bustled about again, trying to fuss. When he snapped at her slightly, she beamed at him and left to sort the forms out. He read his chart quickly, his heart flipping weirdly when he read how many times Granger had signed it to show she'd checked on him. He didn't think she cared that much.
He went into the bathroom, stripping and having a fast shower. He'd have a proper one later, but he couldn't stand the weird clothes the hospital had put him in, and he wanted desperately to be in his own clothes. He thought he heard his door open slightly, but his mother didn't say anything, so he thought nothing of it. Probably an orderly to change his sheets.
He left, still towelling off his hair. Malfoys didn't use drying charms except in dire need. Hair was too precious. He didn't notice the coffee at first, as it sat on the bedside table. He grabbed his keys, and picked it up. He grinned at it, opening the lid to smell at the contents. He sipped at it as he left the room, pocketing the note underneath it.
Fight me on Friday? Over dinner?
A/N: Some light fluffiness because today was a crap day and I wanted to make myself feel better. Based on a Facebook post of a tumblr post about a stroy fo someone who was in hospital and tried to fight their nurse.