A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for the lovely reviews on the first chapter, they made me smile (which is a difficult task, first thing in the morning when I know I have to go to work.) So many thanks to you all :D
to 59ukefan: I never said it, but in my mind he works at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in downtown Chicago (I have spent a lot of time there, I know it well ahah)- just cause you said you wanted to know ;)
and to bakaneko817: I agree, I can see Draco doing what he does and wanting to save lives. And details are important to me too- plus, I just find the idea of Harry smoking sexy...kind of a guilty pleasure in my thoughts ahaha

And now here's my next installment...


Chapter 2

The first thing that Harry became aware of was a constant beeping. He wondered vaguely what on Earth that could be, and decided to open his eyes and find out- which ended up being a colossal mistake.

The second thing that he became aware of was a headache that threatened to split his brain in two. It hurt to simply open his eyes, and when he did it felt like looking through sandpaper. He blinked a few times, and instinctively reached out for his glasses. When he finally found them on a table next to…wherever he lay, he pulled them on and the world came a little bit back into focus.

He searched around for a bit, and finally found the source of the beeping- it came from a machine next to the bed he was in. When he finally gained full consciousness, he realized that he was in a hospital- and not St. Mungo's, but a Muggle hospital. Images suddenly came flooding back- the stakeout, walking back to his hotel, the car…oh god, the car had hit him.

Just then, a cheerful-looking woman came into the room. "Oh, you're awake!" she exclaimed, seeing him sitting up. "That's excellent!" As she checked…whatever she needed to check, Harry wondered for just how long he had been out. And he was about to ask her as much, when she announced that she would get the doctor- and Harry decided to ask whoever that was when they came in.

The nurse left, leaving him alone for a few minutes. He examined the various tubes and wires that protruded from his body, wondering vaguely what they all did- and what had happened to him to require them. But all of that was forgotten when the doctor walked in, because Harry would have recognized the platinum blonde man anywhere in the world. "Malfoy?!"

The blonde adopted his typical smirk- oh yes, definitely Malfoy- and replied, "Good morning, Potter- I see you are finally awake." He set down the chart he'd been holding, and walked over to Harry's bedside. With a start, he realized that Malfoy meant to touch him, and immediately recoiled.

"Relax, Potter, I am a trained professional," he said with a quick sigh. "Unfortunately for me, I have taken a Hippocratic oath which forbids me from killing you- so stop cowering like a child and let me examine you."

He pressed his fingers to various parts of Harry's abdomen, which he hadn't quite realized hurt until that moment. "Ouch!" he hissed, as Malfoy hit a particularly painful spot near his ribs. Malfoy merely wrote something down on his chart, and otherwise paid Harry no mind.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you -ow- doing here?" he asked, figuring he might as well talk while being prodded at.

"I am saving your bloody life, is what I am doing," the Slytherin replied wryly, that trademark smirk still evident on his face.

Harry sighed. "No, I meant what are you doing here, with…Muggles?" he corrected, the last word spoken in a hushed voice. The last place on Earth he would have ever expected to find Draco Malfoy would be exactly the place where he was now. Harry was astounded.

The blonde adopted a faraway look for a moment, his grey eyes oddly out of focus. It was such a strange look for the man that Harry immediately felt a strange pang in his chest that seemed eerily similar to sympathy. For the first time, he noticed how…beautiful the man really was.

That thought was quickly shut out of his head. The accident must have done something to mess with his brain, because he did not just think of Draco Malfoy as beautiful. That was impossible- as was the sudden urge to reach out at grab his hand, which Harry quickly tried to quell.

Finally, Malfoy spoke again. But he ignored Harry's question, and instead replied in a clipped tone, "I am not in the habit of discussing my personal life with patients, Potter- and I am sure as hell not about to start with you. I'll be back again in a couple of hours." And then he was gone.

-------------------------------

Draco was furious. Harry Potter had no right to just waltz back into his life after eight- no, nine- years. The man had been a thorn in Draco's side since they were eleven years old, and now he was back to start it up again! It was completely unfair. Draco was finally happy…okay, he was as close to 'happy' as he figured he'd ever get- and now Potter had fucked it all up! It just wasn't fair for the Gryffindor to come back to his life, with his black hair even more mussed up than usual, looking sexy even after a horrible accident…

What the hell? The doctor thought frantically. Where did that thought come from? Potter isn't sexy, he's a bloody menace! Harry Potter was not sexy. Draco just had to keep telling himself that.

It became his internal mantra over the next couple of days, in order to maintain his sanity as he watched over Potter. He forced himself not to care that sometime in the last nine years, the man had traded in his thick round glasses for a pair of lightweight silver frames. He ignored the fact that they looked incredible on him. He trained his eyes from ever really looking at Potter, because he knew that if he did, he would never stop.

After all, the somewhat awkward boy he'd first met in Diagon Alley all those years ago was gone. He'd been replaced by lanky muscle, sculpted from many years of playing Quidditch (prompting Draco to wonder if he still played at all). The boyish roundness of his face had filled out into finely chiseled features. And his hair…well, Draco supposed some things would never change. His hair still stuck out in every direction, but now instead of looking like he didn't own a comb, it gave him a just-shagged appearance that Draco pretended didn't make his heart jump into his throat. He quickly repeated his mantra: Potter isn't sexy.

...Shit. This could not be good.


A/N: Alright, Chapter 2 is up! Let me know your thoughts =)

xx,
JB