The first thing that Charlie Weasley saw was brightness – excruciating, blinding brightness. Everything in his field of vision was almost a complete blanket of white. He flinched at this, unable to open his eyes completely after having been engulfed in darkness for what had felt like forever. Vaguely, he could see some fuzzy shapes and spots of color. The world through his eyes was finally starting to become clearer.

And his first nearly-clear glimpse was of a girl leaning over him. She had long brown hair that had been tied back loosely and wore attractively slim-fitting white robes. Her hands were busy, tucking his sheets around him and adjusting the bags of fluids that were being pumped into him by injection. Something about her seemed remotely familiar, and he squinted at her in an attempt to figure out where he had known her from. But he was distracted by the medicinal smell in the air, the obviously sterile environment, and the impossibly white walls that surrounded him on all sides. It didn't take too much time for him to realize that she was a Medi-Witch and that he was lying in a hospital bed.

He opened his mouth to speak but immediately found that his throat was too dry to do so.

"Oh, goodness," the Medi-Witch said with a breath of relief. "You're awake."

Once again, Charlie attempted to speak and came up short. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask – how had he gotten here? Where was he, exactly? What had happened? Did his family know? Could he have a glass of water? But nothing would come out.

"You've been here almost a month now, you know," the witch said as she continued to check his vitals and write things in his chart. "We were starting to think you were never going to wake up."

"Dr – drink," he finally managed.

"Oh! Of course, right away, Charlie."

As he sipped the water that she held to his mouth, he considered that it may have been a bit strange that she seemed to be on such familiar terms with a patient, especially one that she had not even been introduced whilst he was conscious. Still, his immense thirst trumped his curiosity, and he continued to drink until the glass was empty.

"Better?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"Much."

The nurse smiled. "I'm glad you're all right. Your family has been worried sick about you."

"My family has been here?"

"Well, of course!" She sat down on the edge of his bed. "Ginny has been in nearly every day since they transferred you from Romania General, your parents have come by rather frequently, Ron has brought your niece to see you a few times… everyone has visited. They were all so worried about you."

He struggled to sit up in his bed. "You seem awfully chummy with them."

She laughed out loud at that. "Well I ought to be, haven't I? I played Quidditch for Gryffindor for years, and each year I played alongside at least one Weasley."

"What's your name?"

"Katie. Bell. You might not remember me. I was just a first year when you finished at Hogwarts."

Charlie smiled. "Believe it or not, I do remember you." He paused for a moment and bit his lip. "So, have you been taking care of me the entire time I've been hurt?"

"No. Not exactly. You were sent to the hospital in Romania after your accident, but after about a week or so you still hadn't woken up. So they sent you to St. Mungo's where there's a much more advanced trauma unit." She laughed nervously. "You'd think with the dragon reserve in Romania that they'd have a better trauma unit, wouldn't you?"

"My – my dragons?"

She bit her lip. "Yes, Charlie."

"What happened?"

"Well, I'm a bit fuzzy on all of the details, you see. As I said, you were sent here after nearly a week. Details get lost in translation."

"What. Happened?" he asked, his words staccato for emphasis.

A pained expression crossed her face. "You were attacked by a Ridgeback. You were severely burned, and we nearly had to amputate one of your legs. A coma was induced because the pain was so awful, but we tried to Ennervate after healing the burns and the tissue damage several times, but you just wouldn't come to. Until now."

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm so sorry," she said with all of the sincerity in the world. "I know how much you love your dragons."

"I suppose the reserve thinks I'm an unnecessary risk to their reputation," Charlie said as he looked down at his hands. "There had never been a tamer who had been hospitalized while working there until me. If people wanting to work with dragons hear about this, people will start being afraid of them again."

"I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay," he said, cutting her off rather harshly. "You don't need to pity me."

"I don't pity you."

Charlie's eyes shot up to meet hers, and much to his surprise, he realized that she was being completely honest. There were a lot of clear emotions in her kind eyes – happiness, sadness, empathy – but pity wasn't among them.

"I think that you must have been doing something awfully stupid to have provoked such a fierce beast," she said, her gaze locking with his in a fierce glare. "You may think that you form relationships with dragons – that they trust you and that they know you – but the truth is, they're wild. You can never really tame them, and the fact that you thought otherwise makes me wonder how you did so well in school."

"Well thanks," Charlie answered sardonically.

"But I give you credit. Even after I told you what happened, your reaction to the dragons wasn't a bad one. You must really love what you do."

He nodded. "You're right."

"And I understand you. I've been hurt badly before. I've had to recover in this exact room. But I made it out of here even stronger than how I had come in. And so will you."

Impulsively, Charlie reached for Katie's hand. His eyes remained on hers, and silently, the two shared a moment. There was happiness from Katie because Charlie had finally awoken, sadness from Charlie because he knew in his heart that he'd never be able to return to his dragons, and understanding between the two of them because they both knew what it felt like to wake up in a hospital with injuries that they had received at least partially due to their own carelessness. And there was so much more between them that they had not yet even begun to explore.

"So you see, Charlie," Katie began, her voice soft but fierce, "I feel a lot of things for you. But pity isn't one of them."