Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: OK, I don't really have much to say. This chapter uses a very familiar setting.

A/N 2: Wow, recent reactions to this have been unprecedented! Thanks guys! Just to say, if you like this, read A Silver Locket. I'll try to update this regularly, there's plenty of it.

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It was Monday afternoon when Harry woke in a very familiar place – a bed in the Hospital Wing.

"Oh, you're awake now?" Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled over to his bed. "Perhaps we should make sure we always have the same bed ready for you, Mr Potter, you're in here so often… You're as bad as your father was, honestly! I keep telling them how dangerous Quidditch is, I'm fed up with dealing with students who've fallen off their brooms…"

But Harry wasn't listening. "My dad used to end up in here?"

Madam Pomfrey made a small tsk-ing noise under her breath. "Of course. You know your father was a 'legend' on the pitch; it's always the famous ones I get in here."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows and put on his glasses, bringing the ward into sharper focus. He caught sight of Malfoy laying completely still on the other side of the room, and spoke before he could stop himself. "Is he OK?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned. "I'm afraid Mr Malfoy came off rather the worse from your collision. He'll be out for a while longer. Don't worry, he'll be fine…"

"Oh, I wasn't worried," Harry lied.

At this point, the conversation (if you could call it that) was severely disrupted by the entry of the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team; evidently lessons had just finished for the day. Madam Pomfrey started to object, but then gave up and retired to her office with a resigned expression on her face.

Harry was quickly surrounded by Euan, Natalie, Ginny, Jack, Timothy, Ron and Hermione, who seemed to have tagged along with the team. They all looked relieved to find him conscious.

After pleasantries had been exchanged, the conversation quickly turned to the match.

"One of your best catches," Ron said with a grin. "God, Malfoy'll be pissed… when he comes to."

They all laughed; fortunately no one seemed to notice how forced Harry's laugh sounded.

"How's the Snitch?" Harry asked. "I mean, I did land on it…"

"I think the Snitch must be used to it by now," Hermione smiled. "It must wish it had never seen you, Harry!"

This made everyone laugh again, and it did not take long for Madam Pomfrey's patience to run out. It was only a few minutes before she emerged from her office and herded Harry's visitors out. She then spent several minutes making sure that Harry was in possession of a fully working skeleton. Once Harry recovered from the initial shock of realising that he had had several bones mended while he was unconscious, he was not really surprised. The thing was, if Malfoy had come out of the collision worse than he had, how many bones must he have broken? This time Harry made a conscious effort to stop worrying about Malfoy's wellbeing.

Having received a Sleeping Draught from Madam Pomfrey, Harry spent most of the afternoon and evening sleeping soundly. It was dark when he woke to find the ward still empty except for himself and Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey seemed to have returned to her office. Sitting up, Harry saw that she was, in fact, fast asleep in a chair behind her desk. Not fully aware of what he was doing, and with absolutely no idea why, he extricated himself from the blankets and stood up. The floor felt cold under his bare feet as he padded across the ward. He stopped beside Malfoy's bed and looked down on his face. In sleep, there was no guile in the Slytherin's face. He looked like a child. 'He looks like an angel,' Harry found himself thinking. It was true; Draco's pale skin and light blond hair did give him that kind of look. His eyes completed the picture, but right now Harry was glad they were closed. The last time he had seen Malfoy's eyes, they had been grim and full of hate.

Harry shuddered as he remembered the look Draco had given him the previous Saturday night, after that horrible row they had had… Thinking of this brought back more… The terrible feeling he had felt in his stomach when he had seen Draco with Pansy… The week had not been too pleasant on that front; the crooning couple had taken to calling each other pet names, which had made Harry feel alternately revolted and jealous.

Suddenly, Harry realised that he was crying. He was instantly filled with mortification – what if Malfoy woke up? Silently, he shot across the ward and back into his own bed. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, silent tears still tracking down his face. He felt so angry with himself for the way he was feeling. He'd had five years of mutual hatred with Malfoy, so why was it upsetting him now? He knew the answer: he had had a good thing, and he had lost it. Why had he said those things? He DID trust Draco, he did!

Sounds of movement reached Harry's ears, and he immediately looked over at Malfoy. He cursed under his breath when he realised that the other boy was stirring. Harry pretended to be asleep as he heard Malfoy sit up. He heard more movement, and suppressed a frown. What was Malfoy doing?

As he lay still, Harry became even more confused, as he heard a prolonged scratching noise, then footsteps come closer to his bed, then leave the ward. This time, the frown passed across his features unchecked. Now certain he was alone, he sat up and looked around. Sure enough, Malfoy was gone. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a glint of white. He glanced down at his bedside table and was surprised to see a folded piece of paper that he knew had not been there before. He snatched it up, unfolded it and reached for his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered, and a faint light came from the tip of his wand. By this light, he managed to read the paper, not that he liked what he saw.

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Author's Note: Sorry about the cliffie there, but the next bit would, I think, work better as a chapter of its own. Wait and see!