Disclaimer: Like usual, I own nothing. Although if you let me borrow Harry and Draco,  or Sirius, I'll be good. I promise. ^_^ Alas, that only happens in my dreams. Harry Potter and company all belong to JKR, Warner Bros., Scholastic, etc. No copyright fringement intended, just the working of my muses and some plot bunnies we found under the bed.

Cookies, chocolate, and sincere thanks go out to all my reviewers. You inspired me to crank out this chapter while riding the bus to the University (not an easy thing to do on a bus in Brazil). So, Draco huggles for all of you! You rock my world!

Sweet and Sour Chapter Five – Worse than a Hangover

Sweet Merlin, his head was pounding. He struggled to open his eyes against the bright light he could feel upon them, but decided it was fruitless. Light? What the hell? He distinctly remembered the blood and throwing himself off the cliffs. There was a dog though. Sirius… no… no… Sirius was dead, right… there had been a funeral… they were all dead… all just faded memories… dead… like him…

"How long has he been like this?"

"Dobby does not know, sir. Dobby found him three days ago while Master was away. Dobby does not know how long, sir. Dobby thinks he looks familiar."

Voices? Voices. Dobby.  He felt as though he knew that name from somewhere. Fingers gently touching his face. No, not his face, something on his face. Bandages. He could barely feel them through the layers, but he reckoned that was his cheek, then forehead, all covered.

"Did he have anything on him?"

"No, sir. Dobby searched, but Dobby found nothing. No wand, no money, no papers. Dobby found him on the beach. Dobby knows master is a kind man and Dobby guessed master would not mind."

"You did the right thing, Dobby. I just wish we knew who he was."

Why did the voices sound so familiar? Was this what happened when you died? The last few moments, a hodgepodge of memories? Was this death? Was this a dream? But no, the pain felt real. So real and strong that he knew it was useless to try and move, or to attempt to open his eyes for that matter.

"Master?"

"Yes, Dobby?"

"Dobby… sir… When Dobby found him, he… he had many cuts, sir… on his arms… Sir… Dobby… Dobby thinks perhaps he… he…"

"He tried to kill himself?"

"Hurt himself. Yes, sir. Dobby does not understand why a wizard would want to-"

"A wizard?"

"Yes, sir… Dobby knows. Dobby can feel. He is a wizard. Dobby does not understand why a wizard would want to hurt himself, sir. Dobby did find this, though."

What was this? What had this Dobby person found? Wait, why was there silence? What was going on?

"Master? What it is master?  Has Dobby done something wrong?"

"No… no... Dobby has done well. This… I… someone I once knew once had something like this."

What? Couldn't they just tell him? He felt an onslaught of pain. Definitely not dreaming. Definitely not dead. Why did things never turn out the way they should? There were a few more minutes of silence before he heard two sets of footsteps leaving the room. He lay there for quite some time. Someone came and changed his dressings and tried to get him to drink something foul tasting. Foul tasting, yet familiar. Strange. The person left and he felt a cool breeze blow over him and the faint sounds of the waves crashing somewhere in the distance. It didn't feel quite so bright. Might as well try to open his eyes again. As he fluttered them open, he realized that one of them, the left, couldn't see anything, but felt something covering it. The other was still blurry. He could make out the bed he was on, a table, two chairs, a fireplace, windows, no, was that a door, leading outside. Slowly, he tried to sit up, but lifting his head just made it spin. Just wait a little. He closed his eyes. This was good. He turned his face to the breeze. That felt nice, yes, very nice. He let his eyes open again, or eye more like it, and let it focus on the curtain fluttering in the breeze. He tried flexing his fingers, feeling the bandages on them. He smiled weakly, at least he had done pretty well. He'd just have to finish it off later. Deciding to give it another try, he said up and screamed hoarsely at the pain that shot through his side as the spots flashed before his eyes, not noticing someone rushing into the room and gently laying him back down and giving him something to drink.

"You shouldn't be sitting up. Lie back down. That's it, take it easy. Rest."

Soothing words. Comforting. A hand pushing back his hair, it felt longer than he remembered.

"That's it. Close your eyes. Just relax. There you go. The potion should ease the pain."

Potion? So confusing… memories that didn't fit. Missing pieces. He sighed, wincing at the pain that seemed to come from his ribs.

"I'm sorry about the pain. We can't really do much at the moment. Dobby went to go fetch a proper medi-wizard though. He didn't want to leave you alone while I was gone."

Dobby. That name again. Who was Dobby? He felt he should remember. Where was he? He felt the hand brushing his hair back again. Why did a simple thing like that feel so nice and yet hurt so much? He swallowed.

"Are you allright? Can I get you anything?"

He shook his head no, wincing slightly at the movement and opened his mouth to speak.

"What is it?"

"Who are you?"

Author's Note: Yes, I'm evil. Deal. I do have occasional benevolent days as well. Cookies and huggles to whoever guesses the identity of our mysterious friend. And special mention in the next chapter. I was toying with the idea of giving it away, but Rafi, one of my muses, decided against it and commandeered the keyboard. So blame him for the lack of closure/cliffhanger in this chapter. As for Dobby, I couldn't resist. He just popped in while I was on the bus. You know the deal, reviews good. And don't worry, I won't take too long with the next chapter, just enough until you get incredibly impatient. ^_^