Harry stormed through the hallways in his rush to get to Draco's room. Pushing several people out of his way, he skidded into the room where his unconscious lover lay on the small hospital bed. Draco was much paler than normal, to the point where his hair held more color than his skin. Harry dropped to his knees next to the bed and took Draco's cold hand in his.

"Draco, I love you, but you were stupid for putting yourself in danger like that," Harry said. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but you need to wake up, sweetheart." He continued to talk at Draco about anything and everything that came to mind until his mouth ran dry; he settled on just sitting to keep the comatose Draco company. Healers came and went checking on Draco's condition, changing bandages, and encouraging Harry to go home and rest. Finally giving up on trying to stay awake, harry pulled up an empty bed and put it next to Draco's. He curled his body around his boyfriend's and fell asleep next to the slow heartbeat beneath his ear.

For a week, Harry didn't move from his spot nor waver from his vigil he had dutifully taken upon himself. Hermione and Ron came a few times, worried about their friend's health, but otherwise they didn't try to stop him. On the verge of sleep yet again, the sudden movement next to him woke Harry up within an instant. Moaning lightly, Draco shifted again in an effort to sit up. Several healers surrounded the bed as the silver eyes began to flutter open. His brow furrowed together in his slight confusion.

"Draco, thank the gods you are awake. I thought I would never see those beautiful eyes again," Harry sobbed out. He ran his hands through the silken blonde hair before him. Draco's brow knitted together even more and opened his dry mouth.

"Who are you? And where am I?" he rasped out.