Summary: A spell is cast on Harry which creates lots of angst. Draco comes along and creates lots of fluff. Hurrah. Not HBP/DH compliant. Slaaaaaash!
Voldemort is already dead in this fic. Use your imagination as to what happened.
Disclaimer: I own nothiiiiiing!
Rating: Ah… T?
A/N: Pleeeeeease review! You will receive love
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Chapter 2
Hermione sat on a hard plastic chair in Madam Pomfreys' office, her face pale, her hands gripping the seat tight. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning but she was wide awake, and scared. Ron stood near the door, biting his lip, staring through the open blinds at the door to the hospital wing. They were waiting. They had known Harry would never be able to hold off looking for trapped survivors, and Dumbledore had known it too. A trace spell had been placed on Harry that alerted at the first sign of their friend in danger - an igniting of the castors wand in a specific shade of cobalt blue. Dumbledore had performed the spell and somehow transferred it to Ron and Hermione so that their wands would also alight if Harry ran across trouble. And all three had been awoken maybe half an hour ago. Aurors had been sent out to find him by following the trace.
Hermione relaxed her hands when she realised her fingers were beginning to ache. She glanced up at Ron, and then away. She hated seeing him afraid. What was taking so long? The spell should show them exactly where Harry ought to be.
"Hermione," Ron said suddenly in a sharp voice. "They've got him."
They ran out of the office and into the brightly lit main room of the hospital wing. Three Aurors; Kingsley and two unknown men, accompanied by Lupin, were carrying a body into the room, ushered by Madam Pomfrey.
"Over here," she said, quickly leading them to the nearest bed and pulling the blinds around. Ron and Hermione dashed over as Harry was placed on the bed. Hermione gasped.
Harry looked awful. His face and hands were bleeding and there were tears in his clothes. He was deathly pale and his eyes were closed. The Aurors and Lupin were talking to Madam Pomfrey in hushed voices.
"… Old, abandoned house…"
"…Pulled him out from under some rubble…"
"…Tried to Enervate, but he hasn't regained consciousness."
They watched as Pomfrey examined Harry, taking his pulse and scanning her wand across his body.
"All right," she said. "Everybody out. I need room to work."
"But -" said Ron.
"You can't -" shrieked Hermione.
"Out, I said!" The four men exited the hospital wing, Lupin giving Ron a squeeze on the shoulder as he passed. "I will alert you two if there are changes and I will let you know once you may see him. Now out of my way!"
As Ron and Hermione turned to leave there was a faint moan from the bed, and Harry stirred ever so slightly. They rushed back to his side, watching fearfully as he rolled over onto his side, then back again, his fists clenching around handfuls of bed sheet. He let out a whimper of fear or pain and then began to mumble incoherently as he stirred.
"N-no - no…"
"What's wrong with him?" Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes.
"Out, you two! I need to take care of my patient." Madam Pomfrey chivvied them, struggling, out of the door and they glanced back as Harry's mumbles became moans and he clutched a hand to his forehead, seemingly unaware of his surroundings, soft, helpless noises of pain coming from his throat.
"No… no. No!"
The hospital door was slammed in their faces and Ron and Hermione turned to each other, horror-struck as screams began to sound from inside.
