CHAPTER FIVE:

The silence was deafening, packed with unasked questions and laced with fear. Torches burned strong in the corners casting an orange glow over the entire room, causing an eerie presence to wind its way through the sterile white room. Harry watched as people, healers and visitors, worked their way in and out of the room; none of them saying a word as they side-stepped each other to do what needed to be done. It was as if each person was invisible to everyone else, existing solely in their own tiny world.

The figure in the bed was unmoving. Harry stood in the corner with his hands shoved in his black slacks pockets resting against the wall. He had given up using his old invisibility cloak to sneak into the war wards of St. Mungo's; he had realized that no one noticed him anyways. They were all too caught up with their own duties and their own pain to notice his dark figure lurking in corners.

Her dirty blonde hair was memorable and her quizzical blue eyes which he knew were fluttering away behind her closed eyelids reminded him that his friends weren't free from harm. Her normally pale skin, now white against the starch white cotton sheets, reminded him that everyday people were dying because of him.

It was a horrible fate for anyone involved, but he had learned to accept his fate and theirs a long time ago. This was the path they had all individually chosen to follow and they all had to face the repercussions of that decision.

A warm voice startled Harry out of his musings. He turned see Pansy standing next to him, her eyes memorizing the sight in front of her, the sight of the woman in the hospital bed. She had been staying at Hogwarts, just hanging around, for almost three weeks now and he had gotten no closer to figuring out what her purpose was.

It seemed her schedule never changed. He had later discovered that she had been out flying the morning that Hermione had stormed off and it was something he could find her doing every morning at precisely 5 a.m. It seemed she was used to a strict schedule and he was amazed by that, much to his own dislike. It made him wonder what sort of life she was used to leading and he never hated his curious nature more than these past few weeks. He had to constantly remind himself that she was a Slytherin, a Death Eater, and he had to keep a tighter rein on his reactions around her.

Unlike Pansy, he had noticed, he couldn't keep a calm and neutral face in any sort of circumstance. She never looked surprised, or shocked, or angry; just calm. It was aggravating because she had this protective wall built around her and Harry had yet to figure out how to break it down. He needed that wall down to figure out why she was here, but he knew that meant getting close to her, pretending he trusted her, and that just wasn't going to happen. There had to be some other option.

He turned his eyes back to the bed just as its occupant began moaning calling the attention of the nearest healer. "What did you say?" he asked watching as the healer muttering a calming spell; the patient couldn't swallow potions yet to stop the pain so the only thing to be done was calm her heart rate and keep her outbursts quiet.

"I said, 'She'll live'" repeated Pansy looking at Luna Lovegood will wide eyes. She had always thought the girl insane, and she probably was, but she was a fighter; that earned respect from Pansy.

Harry pushed off the wall and made his way towards the bed. She looked so fragile and lifeless. "No, she won't." Harry ran his hands over the milky white skin of her inner left forearm, an action which made Pansy visibly shiver. He looked up at her. "Why are you here?" His voice was cold and devoid of all emotion.

Pansy dropped her eyes to the floor and straightened out her plain black robes. After living as a muggle for two years robes were a strange thing to wear, but it was part of her image, always had been, and she had slipped back into her pureblood witch role with ease. She mumbled something to the white and gray checkered linolium floor.

"Come again," prodded Harry not knowing whether to be amused or shocked that her defenses were down. His voice had grown somewhat softer, maybe she would let him in on her own.

"To write an article," said Pansy, her eyes snapping back up to his and her shoulders straightening up. Her wall back in place. "I needed to see the patient and talk to some healers for information."

Harry looked stunned. He didn't move or speak for a few moments. Pansy moved across the room to the nearest healer, as if to prove her honesty, and began asking questions about Luna's conditions. The healer looked at Pansy quizzically as if wondering whether or not to trust her, one had to be careful these days.

"Please ma'am," said Pansy her impeccable pureblood manners showing through, "I am a reporter and any information you gave me would help ensure that the story is correct and filled with truth."

The healer's eyes narrowed for a second, but she nodded her head in agreement. "The patient is Luna Lovegood; she is nineteen years old; her injuries include blood poisoning, deep liaisons, minor cuts and bruises, and hallucinations," the healer offered. Pansy nodded her head occasionally taking notes on a notepad that she had picked up off the desk before her.

"A reporter?" said Harry skeptically as Pansy moved back towards the bed and began taking observations of Luna.

"Yes," said Pansy without looking up. She was currently placing the back of her hand against Luna's hand. Her skin had barely held contact with Luna's for a second before she pulled her hand back as if she had been burned.

"Why do you need to be a reporter?" asked Harry.

"Money. Nurse," called Pansy waving her hand to get the nurse's attention. "Did you know this woman has a high fever?"

The nurse nodded. "That's what causing the hallucinations."

"And what do you need money for?" interrupted Harry.

"Rent, Potter," she replied in an irritated voice; it was the first time Harry had heard any emotion at all in her voice. She turned to the nurse, placing one of her hands on her hips while the other was used to punctuate what she was saying. "And have you not tried to lower it? A fever this high could cause brain damage or worse, kill her." Harry's eyes dropped back down to Luna's from; he had told Pansy she was going to die.

"Without her being able to take a potion there isn't much we can do," said the nurse before turning away.

Pansy pursed her lips together and furrowed her brow. Quickly she watched as the nurse on duty disappeared into a back room, most likely to receive a potion for one of the other patients in the ward. She moved to close the curtains, but Harry stopped her by grabbing the white cloth in his own hands and wrenching them back open.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, suspicious of her actions. She probably was planning on killing Luna right then and there.

Pansy seemed to read the thoughts that were running through his head and she let out an agitated sigh. "Potter, honestly, I'm not going to harm her. You need to learn to trust people more." She reached over and smacked the back of his hand causing him to release the fabric and she pulled them shut once more. He opened his mouth to retort but she held up her finger which quickly silenced him, much to her surprise; of course, that didn't show. She pulled her wand out of her robes pocket and muttered a quick charm to produce a silent bubble around them.

Pansy smiled. "Now you can yell at me."

"I trust plenty of people, thank you," he said, his voice raising on every word, "it's just your type that I tend to be a little wary of."

"My type?" Pansy questioned raising her eyebrows at him. It was something she did whenever she was confused by a statement or thought a stupid question had been asked and it annoyed the hell out of Harry.

"Yes, your type," he started, "the type that ruthlessly kill people without a second thought, the kind that have hundreds of secrets to hide from others, the kind that only care about themselves."

Pansy's look instantly hardened and she forced back the urge to slap him for being so stereotypical with people. She instead just shook head and turned her wand towards Luna.

"What are you doing!" exclaimed Harry jumping forward and smacking her wand out of her hand.

Pansy turned towards him, anger evident in her features. It was a scary sight, Harry thought briefly, before Pansy started ripping into him and cutting him down to size. "Don't you dare touch me like that again, Potter, or I swear I will not hesitate in hurting you! I was going to save this young woman's life until you so rudely stopped me, and while you may not care if she lives or dies, I don't want to live with that on my conscience when I know I can do something to prevent it."

Pansy bent over to pick up her wand and turned her head back to Luna's form. She raised her wand and muttered a spell that was foreign to Harry and watched as a silver-purple light weaved its way around Luna before disappearing into her temples. Once the spell had finished Pansy raised the back of her hand to Luna's forehead and let out a reserved sigh.

"Slytherins don't have consciences," said Harry watching as Pansy restored the war ward to normal and ripped open the curtains. She thanked the nurse on duty for her help, promising to keep the article as close to the truth as she could, and left the room with a second glance back.

Her footsteps echoed down all the way down the hall to the elevators. Once inside the elevator she let her shoulders slump and her eyes drift close. The silence was welcomed but short, and soon she found herself on the bottom floor of St. Mungo's. She hurried out of the hospital and into the cold rain of November just needing to get away from that place. She hadn't been to that ward since Draco's death and she had no desire to go back.

She burst into a run and ran three blocks before turning into a dark alleyway. There she leaned against one of the stone walls trying to regain her composure before heading back to Hogwarts.