Bedside Manners
Year One
Harry's head was pounding. It turns out that being hit with You Know Who's spirit felt a lot like being hit with a ton of bricks. His whole body hurt and after his talk with Professor Dumbledore about the mirror of Erised and Nicholas Flamel, his head hurt a lot too.
What a year it had been. Meeting Hagrid, finding out he was a wizard, arriving at Hogwarts, making friends with Ron and Hermione, battling a troll, eating more than he'd ever eaten in his life, flying, learning to do magic, his first real Christmas, meeting Norbert, the terror of the forbidden forest, and facing off against the monster who'd murdered his parents.
Let's not forget the joys of coming face to face with Snape and Malfoy. Harry still couldn't understand what Malfoy's problem was. Why he was constantly antagonising Harry.
Just then, Harry heard a small squeak, like the hinges of a door and looked towards the entrance of the Hospital Wing. As if summoned by Harry's own thoughts, a very pale, blonde boy stood in the doorway, hovering as if unsure whether or not to enter.
Harry cursed inwardly, knowing he was in no fit state to battle Malfoy, and unsure as to where his wand had been stowed by Madam Pomfrey.
Malfoy's eyes locked onto Harry's and he swallowed visibly, 'Ah, you're awake.' He muttered, looking like he might turn tail and close the door behind him.
'What do you want Malfoy?'
'I-' Draco stiffened at Harry's tone. 'Nevermind.' He shook his head, turning to leave, but paused in the doorway. 'Are you okay?'
Harry's mouth dropped open, stunned. Maybe something had happened to his ears that Madam Pomfrey hadn't noticed.
'What?' Draco didn't turn around, but Harry noticed a pink tinge creeping up the pale boys' neck and staining the tips of his ears.
'Are you okay?' He repeated, a little louder this time.
Harry was baffled. This boy had given him absolute hell from the second he'd arrived at Hogwarts, and now, here he was, asking if Harry was okay. Was this some sort of a joke?
'What are you up to Malfoy?' Harry asked, narrowing his eyes as Draco heaved a very well performed sigh before slowly turning around to face Harry while keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
'Will you please just answer the question Potter?' He asked with a note of exasperation.
'Not until you tell me what's going on!'
'Nothing's going on.' Malfoy answered, his gaze flicking to Harry's quickly. 'I heard what happened. Hell, the whole bloody school heard what happened.' He paused, swallowing again before meeting Harry's confused gaze. 'I'm asking if you're okay?'
'O-okay?' Harry stammered, wincing as the memory of Quirrell resurfaced in his mind. 'You're asking if I'm okay? You've been an absolute bloody prick to me all year, I had to fight my way past a three-headed dog, escape from a plant trying to strangle me, play a game of chess that damn near killed me, fly through a swarm of deadly keys, drink a potion that could have been poison, walked through fire and then came face to face with the man who killed my parents, and you're asking if I'm okay?'
Malfoy's complexion had paled even further during Harry's heated speech and he winced visibly at the end but didn't back down. His eyes ran across Harry's battered body, hovering momentarily across each cut, bruise or gash, before opening his mouth and saying the very last thing Harry ever expected to hear.
'I'm sorry.'
And with a final glance at Harry, an unreadable expression flickering across his face, he turned on his heel, leaving Harry staring confusedly at his back, at a complete loss for words.
To be continued….