Top Harry Drabble: Harry/George O'Malley[Grey's Anatomy, Season 5]

One minute Harry was standing half on the curb and half not on the street and the next, he had been thrown towards the sidewalk. A bus careened through the street, right where he had been and hit the young man that had thrown him. Sharp pain flooded his wand arm as it flopped about, hitting the pole of a street sign hard. Harry heard the tell-tale crack of a broken bone and the loud, squish of a body hitting a very fast moving car.

Screams filled the air, people yelling to each other and as Harry lay on the sidewalk, confused and shocked, sirens came speeding towards them. The bus that had ran into the man slowed to a stop in Harry's pain filled vision and the bus driver got out, hurrying over to the side of the now squashed young man. The guy looked a mess, bruises everywhere and not an inch of pale skin visible under the mass of injuries.

The ambulance arrived three minutes later and Harry was too dazed to do anything but stand there, letting the American EMT's do their work, carefully lifting the guy onto a stretcher and helping Harry himself into the ambulance. Someone put his arm into a sling, cleaning and putting a butterfly bandage on his cuts. Harry's heart was beating so fast, faster than it had in a long while, ever since the last battle during the war.

Quicker than he knew it or maybe he blacked out momentarily, they arrived at the hospital, Seattle Grace Memorial Hospital. He could see the Space Needle out of the window of the ambulance and peered down at the guy who had most likely saved his life. The guy was a mess of a human being, didn't even look human right now. Too many burns, broken bones and fucked up skin in the way. Blood spurted out of every available hole and only a few holes had already been stopped or plugged by the EMTs.

"Coming in!"

Someone helped Harry out of the vehicle and into the hospital, over to a patient cubicle, while the doctors and residents took the guy into a separate room. He stared out at the hospital, at the people around him as he was sat down on a chair, someone gently holding his arm and laying down on a small table next to him.

Memories flashed through him of the war, of the time when Ron had gotten splinched. He blanched at the remembered sight, taking a deep breath and focusing on the younger woman who was taking a look at his arm. He could hear shouts and see a lot of doctors running into the room where they had taken the man.

"What's your name?"

He blinked and turned to the younger woman, taking in her long black hair that was pulled back in a tail and her blue eyes. She was wearing scrubs that were lighter blue, perhaps an intern and her name tag said her name was Lexie Grey.

"Uh, Harry."

He glanced again at the room, seeing one doctor run out again. Harry would have to wait for the opportune moment to see if he could do something about the younger man who had saved his life. Now wouldn't be very easy, what with five, maybe six doctors in there. Hopefully, the guy would survive that long.

Thoughts of the last person who had saved him ran through his mind. That had been Dobby and he hadn't lived past it. Harry intended for this guy to live but he would have to wait to make sure of it. Pain flaring up his arm drew his attention to the young intern who was making stitches up his arm, his eyes narrowing a little.

"You're awfully quiet for someone with an injury like this."

"I've… uh... had worse," Harry remarked, shrugging slightly. He would have to down a pain killing potion and fix whatever needed to be fixed later, as there were too many people in the ER. And not a one of them was a witch or wizard.

The young woman, Dr Grey, blinked and continued to stitch his arm. Harry turned to watch the separate room, keeping his breathing steady as little biting stabs of pain flowed up his arm and up into his shoulder, the pain that was nothing like the Cruciatus Curse. Or having all of the bones in his right arm vanished and having to grow them back. Or being bitten by a basilisk.

Another doctor came up to them, looking over Dr Grey's work and said something about redoing the stitches. Harry blinked at the man and then turned to squint into the room where his man was, taking in the several doctors in the room. "Is everyone here this attractive or am I hallucinating?"

Dr Grey and the man, Dr Sloan, both stopped talking and looked at him, blinking in confusion.

Dr Sloan let out a surprised laugh. "It's one of the benefits of being a Plastic Surgeon."

Harry snorted and then turned to look at the room once again, seeing that the door was open.

It took the doctors a while to deliver Harry's rescuer back to the ICU and Harry quietly followed the bed. It looked like they had taken the man into surgery and then realized that he had needed time to stabilize. Harry looked around at the bustling hospital, having persuaded the residents in charge to let him stay with the guy. The sun had gone down since the incident had happened and a shift change was happening in the midst of the usual hospital happenings.

Harry pulled over a chair and sat in it as he looked the guy over. The young man had pushed Harry away and had then gotten run over by the bus. He sighed, remembering how the guy had looked in the seconds before the bus came, remembering the smile he had turned Harry's way. The guy had been attractive, the perfect image of a stereotypical good guy and Harry's heart had done a flip in his chest at him.

"You shouldn't have done that," Harry whispered warily, before pulling his messenger bag up and onto his lap. He had been in Seattle for business, one of the wizarding businesses here needed to do some work with a business in England so they sent for him. Harry glanced up at the floor to ceiling glass walls around their room and discreetly palmed his wand, whispering wards under his breath.

Bright warding magic shot from his fingertips, enclosing the room within a bubble and keeping people from coming in. It would keep people out for an hour or two, making them think they were needed elsewhere, until Harry was done, or exhausted, whichever came first. Once he finished spelling the room, he downed a pain potion and spelled the other pain potion into the man's stomach.

He had taken two year's worth of healing lessons from Pomfrey after the war was over and it would probably be enough to make sure this man lived. He held his wand lightly to the man's stomach, or at least where the man's stomach would be, and began to mutter healing spells.

A transparent skeleton arose from the man's body, created from magic, and began to fill in, the veins made of red spell light, the organs a pool of blue light and so on. By the time the magical construct was done, Harry could see where all of the damage was, black light taking up most of the organs, skin, muscle and bones. There was a lot of damage but Harry started with the fatal wounds, encouraging his magic to flow into the man's body and heal.

He had to shore up the man's heart, knitting together the various veins and the actual heart muscle. It was a miracle the man had survived but Harry ploughed through, mending bones and organs and pressing some burn paste to the man's skin. The paste worked right away, healing the dead skin and bringing new, pink skin to the surface. He rubbed the paste over every inch of burned, rubbed raw skin, from head to toe.

By the time Harry withdrew, his magic halfway gone and needing sleep to recharge, the young man looked human again. There was not an inch of tire burned skin, instead replaced by fresh, pink skin. There was no blood visible, no dirt, no open wounds. Harry had left the man with a broken arm and broken leg, seeing those injuries as nonfatal and not on his list of priorities to heal, not when his magic was frantically healing all of the other potentially fatal wounds.

Harry's arm was fixed too and this time there had been no need to regrow the bones. He yawned, made sure all signs of magic were gone, and called the wards back to himself and then made himself comfortable on the chair and fell asleep, listening to the quiet beeping of the machines.

He was woken by gasps and shouts, exclamations of wonder, blinking his eyes open to see various doctors spread about the bed. He glanced out the window, saw that the sun was up and shining, saw that his guy was awake and finally looked to the doctors and residents that had filed in.

"What? What is it? Is the world ending?" Harry sleepily questioned, hiding a yawn behind a hand and looking within himself briefly to check his magic. He had recharged enough to apparate, if need be, so he raised an eyebrow. He had ended up half on the guy's bed, his right hand holding onto the other man's hand. "Something else wrong?"

Every single doctor and resident turned to look at him, their eyes wide.

"What." Harry finally gave up, seeing every doctor's open mouths and turned back to the guy who had saved his life. His wide blue eyes were open and he was looking straight at Harry, his mouth opening and closing.

"George!"

"George, you are not joining the military!"

"So… you're George then, I presume," Harry remarked, grinning a little. "I didn't need the life saving. That's usually my thing."

George blinked and then his lips twitched up into a small smile.

"I'm Harry, nice to meet you." Harry yawned and stood up, stretching his back and arms, hearing them crack. "I'll be in town for a week or two. I'd totally be down for a date, when you're up for dinner or lunch or hey, even breakfast. You're cute. I'm single. I don't know if you're single or gay or bisexual but… Well, it's been fun everyone. I left my number on your dresser."

"Wait."

Harry stared at George, felt the tug from the hand that George was still holding and went with it. He grinned into the kiss, feeling George smile into it too. There were yet more gasps and sharp inhaled breaths around them before Harry pulled away, not wanting to get the man in trouble.

"Talk later?" Harry questioned, his heart racing at the intrigued look in George's eyes and smiling at his nod before walking out of the room and hospital.