I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
this is my first fanfic so please BE NICE WHEN YOU REVIEW XP
SLASH AHEAD:: if you don't like... leave!
Chapter 5: Mediwizard
It didn't take Harry long to recognize the person who was strewn across his floor, in a shallow pool of blood. The white-blonde hair, the pale complexion, those stormy-grey eyes.
"Malfoy?!" He exclaimed, to no one really, because Malfoy was far from conscious at the moment. Numerous thoughts flooded through Harry's head. The one's coming out on top were that Malfoy was still with the infamous Death Eaters, who were slowly making a comeback, and he was their fearful leader. So, Harry just left him there, turning around and heading down the stairs.
He was going to attack me. It was self defense. Harry thought as he took the stairs slowly. Not my fault he apparated into my house. But a small hint of guilt plagued Harry as he thought up every excuse to justify the injured man at the top of his stairs, for he knew deep down Malfoy was on their side, though he hated to believe it. With an exasperated sigh he turned back around up the stairs and went over to the man who was lying on his floor.
He reached underneath Malfoy and picked him up, surprised to find him so light in his arms. He walked into his room, that he hadn't been in for many nights, and pushed away the covers, noting the small dent and clearing of dust in the center where Malfoy must have landed. He gently lay him down, and walked into his bathroom.
He pulled off four bottles and lay them on the nightstand next to his bed. Out of his back pocket he pulled out his wand. As he pulled it out he looked at it like it was the most amazing piece of magic he had ever laid eyes upon.
How thick can I get? He thought, disgusted with the fact that he forgot all about his wand when an intruder was thrown into his house. Though in this case, it was probably a good thing, because with the amount of threat Harry had endured when he was walking up those stairs, fire poker outstretched, he could have killed poor Malfoy.
Hah, poor... yea right. He scoffed out loud and rolled his eyes. He looked down at Malfoy on the bed, gave a heavy sigh, than began his work.
In his many visits to the hospital wing at Hogwarts, he had learned a lot of things from Madaam Pompfrey. It got to the point that if he had minor injuries, such as broken bones or cuts and wounds, he wouldn't even go to Madaam Pompfrey, because he could heal them himself.
So Malfoy's injuries were nothing new to Harry. First thing he did was mutter a spell to close the wound on Malfoy's head, wiping away the blood with the edge of his sleeve, Malfoy's sleeve that is. Than he opened Malfoy's mouth, pouring in a thick yellow liquid, which would help the swelling go down on the back of his head. Next, Harry looked down to the huge hole he had burned into Malfoy's robes.
Well, they are already ruined, He thought as he stuck his two index fingers into the hole, and ripped apart the boy's robes, shirt, and undershirt. Amazingly it all came apart very easily, as if it were made with cheap material.
"So much for that fine Italian silk," Harry said, mocking the rich life Harry thought all Malfoy's to have.
He poured a little bit of a blue liquid from one bottle, and a little more of a green liquid from another onto his hands and moved them over the burn, that had now begun to scab over Malfoy's pale stomach. Instantly the burn disappeared, as if it were being vacuumed up. Harry wiped his hands on a piece of cloth, again, Malfoy's robes, and closed up the potion bottles, putting them back in his cupboard over the sink.
He stood at the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He never noticed it before, but there were huge black circles under his eyes, a consequence of him not sleeping anymore. His shaggy hair, and slightly shadowed face reminded him a little of Sirius. He closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the sink tightly, shaking thoughts of Sirius away from his mind. But as soon as he opened his eyes again, he was face to face with the reflection of the only family he knew and loved. His fist slammed hard into the mirror, shattering it into tiny glass shards all over the bathroom. He cursed under his breath, and just wrapped a towel around his hand, not bothering to tend to his wounds.
He quickly walked out of the room, leaving Malfoy behind, and made his way downstairs and outside, to the woods behind the house.
Who would've known that Harry had such a talent for medical healing... plays the song sexual healing... it's coming... all in good time... all... in good time...
And quite sorry for the lack of updates... but now that I have successfully finished the summer reading project, I am free to write... until school starts Tuesday... cries