I know it's been a long wait—but here's a new chapter!

Enjoy!

Xxxx -DxH- xxxX

The voices stopped abruptly and the door was pushed open gently, revealing a menagerie of healers and nurses.

"Oh, Minister!" The wizard at the front of the group started in surprise. He evidently hadn't expected any one else to be in the room—much less the Minister of Magic. He walked further into the room, still flanked by a group of several other wizards and witches dressed in similar white robes. "What an absolute privilege."

Kingsley moved around the side of Draco's bed to stand in front of the man, shaking his outstretched hand. "Likewise. And you are?"

"Healer Davies, sir."

"A pleasure." Kingsley nodded. "I'm only sorry it couldn't have been under better circumstances."

"Yes, indeed." Davies cast a glance over to Draco's bed and startled slightly in surprise. "Ah! Young Mr. Malfoy! Awake at last I see! That's good news—although I'm a bit surprised."

Draco narrowed his eyes into a glare at the healer. "And why is that?"

"Aha! I shall explain momentarily!" Davies turned back to Kingsley. "Minister, I can only assume that the reason for your appearance here is due to Mr. Potter's injuries, yes?"

Kingsley frowned. "While it's true that I am extremely worried for Mr. Potter's well being, Healer Davies, he is not the only reason that I am here." He paused and cast a meaningful glance towards Draco. "Mr. Malfoy was also injured, and I am concerned for both of them. I always visit St. Mungo's whenever any of my Aurors are injured."

Healer Davies looked uncomfortable. "Ah, yes...Well..." He cleared his throat and looked backwards to his posse, clapping his hands. One of the witches stepped forward and presented him with a clipboard.

"This," Davies raised the clipboard and shook it a bit. "is some of Mr. Potter's data that we've taken while he was in surgery."

"Was?" Kingsley asked. "You mean then—"

"Yes, Potter is no longer in surgery," Davies confirmed. "We're still observing him though, as to why he isn't here with Mr. Malfoy."

"And? How is he?" Kingsley pressed urgently.

"Superficially, most of his wounds have been healed," Davies reported positively.

Kingsley frowned. "Superficially?"

"Ah, yes." Davies coughed slightly and glanced down at his stack of parchment. "I mean to say that most of the wounds that Mr. Potter received have been healed and are no longer a cause for concern."

"You're not making any sense! Just tell us what's going on!" Florence suddenly growled, bringing to attention his presence from everyone in the room. His normally cheery face was nowhere to be seen.

Healer Davies merely grinned. It was an infuriating type of grin that seemed to hint towards the man's arrogance. "Perhaps it would be better if we have Mr. Potter in here as well. Then I'll only have to explain this once."

Before any member of the room could utter a response, Healer Davies clapped his hands again. This time, the door to the infirmary suddenly opened, and several more witches busted through. In the middle of their huddled group was a medical bed, identical to the one that Draco was lain on. As the witches progressed further into the room, they pushed and pulled the bed along with them—wheeling it all the way into the room until it was parked in the middle of the space.

Kingsley immediately rushed to the bedside, staring at the pale-faced boy resting unconscious against the stark white sheets. "Harry..."

Healer Davies peered at Harry briefly before nodding his head in self-satisfaction. "As you can see, young Mr. Potter is doing just fine now that he's out of surgery."

Florence strode from his place beside Draco's bed and stopped at the foot end of Harry's. After a quick glance, he saw white linen bandages wrapped around Harry's shirtless torso. A slight peppering of crimson splatters were starkly visible against the bandages.

"Doing just fine, eh?" Florence remarked coldly, glancing pointedly at the blood coming through the bandages. "If he's doing so fine, then why the bloody hell is he still losing blood?!"

"I'll get to that in a moment," Davies replied cooly, signaling for Florence to step away from the bed.

The older Auror did so, begrudgingly, and resumed his perch a short distance away on the bed next to Draco's.

All eyes trained expectantly on Davies as the healer took his place in the center of their group. "Now," he started, flourishing his arms about as he spoke. "I can imagine the great deal of questions you all must have as to the unpleasant circumstances that have brought us all together on this day." He paused, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing. "When Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter were brought here, they were both in grave conditions. Mr. Potter was our priority, however, because he had sustained several large lacerations that were bleeding profusely. What we hadn't realized though, was that Mr. Malfoy had sustained just as grave of injuries—only his weren't visible to the eye."

Draco frowned deeply and opened his mouth to speak. However, Davies caught sight of the motion and immediately shushed him. "All in due time, Mr. Malfoy. Anyways, as I was saying—we had immediately started treating Mr. Potter's injuries because we were afraid of how much blood we were losing. His vital signs were also dropping quickly, so we knew that we had to seal up his wounds. Once we began working though, we realized that the wounds had been caused by dark magic—something that, while not impossible to heal, is extremely difficult."

"I coulda told you that much..." Florence grumbled impatiently.

"It was at this point," Davies continued, ignoring Florence, "that we realized that if Mr. Potter had been cursed with dark magic, then there was a good chance that Mr. Malfoy has been as well."

Again, Draco frowned, looking down at himself suspiciously.

"So, after testing Mr. Malfoy and realizing that he too had been exposed to the same dark magic that Mr. Potter had been, we realized that we had to work quickly to find a cure for both of them," said Davies. "Luckily for us here at St. Mungo's, we have several healers who are specialized in the research and healing of dark magic. After some trial and error, we ended up dispelling enough dark magic that we were able to start healing the large laceration on Mr. Potter's chest, in addition to expelling the dark magic that seemed to be sapping away Mr. Malfoy's vitals as well." Davies glanced around to make sure that everyone was still following along.

Kingsley nodded. "Please, continue."

Davies cleared his throat and resumed. "After we were sure that both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were safe and free of the dark magic that had been inflicting their wounds, we thought that we were in the free and clear. Unfortunately though, we were wrong."

"How so, Healer Davies?" Kingsley asked with a frown.

"As I said—we finished the surgeries and expelled the dark magic—but just to make sure, we then sent both of the boys through an additional scan to detect for any traces of dark magic that could still be lingering in their bodies. And we found some." Davies began to pace again, slowly—his charming face marred by furrowed brows.

"The scan in question revealed dark magic in both boys' bodies, in the same areas. This dark magic, unlike the kind that we dispelled from them, showed no signs of causing any sort of damage within either wizard's system. We ran many different tests on both of the boys, but nothing that we did seemed to affect the magic in anyway. So—while we waited for all of the results from those scans to be brought to us so we could study them further—we finally decided that we would take Mr. Malfoy out of surgery first and see how he would do after the anesthesia potions that we administered had worn off. Meanwhile, we would continue to monitor Mr. Potter under anesthesia while we continuing to try some... different methods of expelling the dark magic." Davies paused—waiting for a reaction.

The room was silent as all processed this information. Then, everyone exploded.

"You were treating my boys like guinea pigs?!"

"What the bloody hell did you do to me while I was under?!"

"Healer Davies, I'm not sure I can condone your actions..."

"Seriously, what kind of sick experiments were you trying to get away with?!"

"Minister, may I suggest that you conduct an investigation as to what's been going on here? Clearly this man isn't sane!"

Davies groaned and rolled his eyes as the squabbles—mainly of Draco and Knightly—filled the room with incessant noise. Suddenly a movement caught his eye, prompting him to snap his fingers. "Shush, shush. Look."

The sound of bed sheets rustling caught the attention of everyone in the room.

Harry stirred in his bed slightly, emitting a groan as his eyelids fluttered open. Kingsley and Knightly were at his bedside in an instant—peering over the young man with concern.

"Urg...Knightly...Kingsley?" Harry blinked to focus his eyes, taking in the figures hovering over him. He looked around the room next, catching sight of Healer Davies. "What happened? Am I...at St. Mungo's?"

Knightly nodded quickly, grabbing Harry's hand closest to him and squeezing gently. "You and Draco were injured on your mission, but don't worry—you have a team of the best healers helping to fix you up, ma'boy!"

Davies barely restrained a sarcastic snort. He strode to Harry's bedside and stuck out a hand. "Yes, Mr. Potter! An honor! I'm Davies, one of the healers who have been tasked with your care and recovery."

Harry shook the outstretched hand before Knightly shooed Davies away again.

"Does anything hurt? You have to tell us if it does, alright? Blimey Harry, you scared us to death!" Knightly wailed.

Harry dipped his head down. "...I'm really sorry."

"It's alright now Harry. What's important is that you're both safe and sound," Kingsley soothed with his deep and calming voice.

Harry nodded tentatively, then, seeming to remember something, snapped his head around. "Wait—what about Malfoy?" he asked quickly.

Harry heard a dry chuckle come behind Davies. As he and several nurses stepped to the side, Harry was finally able to see over to where Draco lay in his own hospital bed—lounging against the starched pillows with the air of prince resting in his bedroom—not of a patient in a stuffy hospital.

"Oh don't bother concerning yourself over my well being," Draco drawled.

Harry frowned. Before he could get a word in to reply though, Davies reappeared into his view.

"So Potter, how are we feeling?" The healer questioned, producing a wand from his white robes and lighting the tip with a swish.

"Uh, fine I think...?"

"Hmm..." Davies moved the wand-light around Harry's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, checking for...something. Knightly and Kingsley watched in silence as Davies poked and prodded Harry's face. After he was done, he gestured to Harry's bandaged chest.

"How's that wound feel?"

Harry glanced down at himself with slight surprise. He hadn't even realized that the bandages were there until they were brought to attention. Harry gently felt the wound through the layers of carefully wrapped bandaging with his fingers. It didn't really hurt, surprisingly. He grimaced. "...It's fine...I think. But how did I get this?"

Davies glanced over at Draco, and Harry followed suit.

Draco, however, studiously ignored the eyes trained on him in favor of inspecting his fingernails.

Harry exhaled in annoyance and turned his attention back to Davies, who began to personally inspect the wound.

"From what I heard, you met a nasty jinx in the form of dark magic," the healer responded, carefully unwrapping the bandages.

"Dark magic?" Harry frowned. "But I thought injuries by dark magic couldn't be healed?"

"Well we've come a ways in our technology so now, while still difficult, it's not a death sentence if you're cursed with dark magic." Davies paused as he finished unwrapping the bandages, then carefully peeled away the dampened gauze to reveal an ugly red slash snaking from the top of Harry's shoulder, down to the middle of his stomach. The wound was weeping clear liquid with drops of scarlet blood glistening at the surface—it's was honestly kind of hard to look at.

"I know this looks bad," Davies quickly interjected, seeing the appalled look on all of their faces, "but look here—this is part of the wound that's already been healed." He gestured to a thin silvery line that started in the middle of Harry's stomach where the wound was still bleeding. The silver mark continued down and disappeared underneath the sheets where the lower half of Harry's body remained covered.

"See? Not so bad!" Davies responded enthusiastically.

Kingsley sighed and nodded his head in agreement, gently patting Harry on his non-afflicted shoulder. "How much longer then should it take until the rest of the wound closes like that?"

"Hmm, I'd say overnight here should do the trick. We'll have to keep applying this topical potion to help it along." Davies walked over to a nearby cupboard, then returned with a jar of clear liquid, shaking it slightly. "In fact, I'd say it's about time we apply more anyways." He snapped his fingers and several of his nursing staff stepped forward.

"Gentleman," he turned to Kingsley and Knightly and made polite shooing motions. "If you would please."

Knightly trained a wary expression on the healer, but complied when Kingsley tugged on his robes. The two backed a safe distance away until they were once again beside Draco's bed. Together, the three watched as the nurses prepped Harry—leaning his bed back and pulling the sheets down until the wound was fully visible and easily accessible.

"Now, try not too tense up too much, alright?" Davies had slipped a mask over his grinning face and pulled gloves onto his hands. He hovered over Harry's wound with the potion bottle firmly in hand as he gave the wound another survey.

Now that it was close enough, Harry could finally read the neat lettering "Essence of Dittany Super Strength Healing Draught" on the bottle's label. He willed his rapidly-increasing heart rate to slow down as memories of Hermione treating Ron's splinch wounds with a bottle of Dittany filtered into his mind. The sound of Ron's blood-curdling screams were filling his head and he could think of only one thing. This is gonna hurt...

"Ready?" Davies asked courteously, raising the dropper from the bottle.

Harry could barely nod, already bracing himself for the pain.

Davies pinched the dropper and the first few drops of the dittany splashed down onto the open wound. Though he had braced himself for it, nothing could have prepared Harry for the excruciating pain that the healing potion caused.

A feeling akin to burning fire crawled over the sensitive flesh of Harry's chest. He let out a scream, immediately thrashing to get out of reach as his skin continued to cry in excruciating pain. Davies, as though anticipating this, calmly gestured to a few of the larger male nurses. They stepped forwards and caught Harry's arms—effectively pinning him to the bed.

Kingsley and Knightly immediately jumped up when Harry began to scream. Knightly had already dashed over to Harry's side, but then a second voice joined the screams and caused everyone, even Davies, to freeze.

Draco, who has been watching the preparation for Harry's treatment with no small amount of smugness, had suddenly felt an indescribable pain in his chest, only seconds after Harry had started screaming. Kingsley immediately dropped to his knees and tried to calm Draco down as the boy screamed and writhed in pain on the bed. Kingsley glanced down at Draco to try and find the source of the pain when he saw something that made him freeze. Blood had started to dot through the thin fabric of Draco's hospital gown, staining the entire area of his chest a deep crimson red.

"Davies!" Kingsley shouted as Draco continued to cry out in unison with Harry.

Davie's quickly yelled to one of his nurses, "Anesthetic potions, now!"

The appointed witch scrambled to the cupboard and retrieved two vials, running over to Harry as Davies ran to Draco. She quickly un-stoppered the vial and poured it down a still-thrashing Harry's mouth. She then grabbed the second vial and quickly went to Davies' side—passing it over to him.

Davies wasted no time getting the potion into Draco's mouth as Kingsley tried to restrain the boy's arms. In a matter of seconds, the room quieted as both boys slowly went still.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Xxxx -DxH- xxxX

Knightly was the first to break the silence. "What," he whispered in horror, "in the name of bloody hell...was that."

Kingsley couldn't speak—he simply shook his head, unknowing. He strode to Harry's side. The nurses who had been previously restraining him had since retreated to entrance of the room—most likely to give them all privacy. The wound on Harry's chest still oozed and bled slightly. The end of the wound near his stomach appeared to have progressed another inch or so in healing—evident by the blood still dotted there but the lack of any open flesh. It appeared though that that was as far as Davies had gotten with applying the dittany potion.

He turned back and went to Draco's bedside, where Davies was surveying the other boy's appearance.

Davies hovered over Draco's still form, feeling the boy's steady pulse. He then pulled his wand from his robes and gave it a quick flick—effectively cutting open the front of Draco's medical gown.

Kingsley watched as Davies carefully removed the fabric—letting out a gasp as the skin underneath was revealed.

There, marred against the deathly pale skin of Draco's torso, was a wound, exactly like the one on Harry's. Knightly gaped at the wound in realized horror, darting to check the appearance of Harry's wound, then coming back to check Draco's.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind. Somehow, someway—Harry's wound had been replicated and manifested itself on Draco's chest.

Davies exhaled shakily, running a hand through his normally-impeccable hair. What the bloody hell is going on here? Where on earth did this wound come from? Draco came into the hospital with little to no physical wounds on his body—and there certainly wasn't a matching wound like the one on Harry's chest! The only major concern in young Draco's case was the internal injuries that he suffered from...also the fact that there was so much dark magic left in his body even after we took care of the stuff that was actually causing damage to his body...Unless...

"Healer Davies," Kingsley's deep voice broke through Davies' silent pondering. "Do you have any idea what's going on that could have caused this?"

Davies wiped at his brow nervously. "I...I may have a hunch." He paused. "But I'm going to call in another healer to help evaluate the situation." Davies turned to his staff. "Please fetch Healer Blackwell and tell him to report to me in the critical care ward. Tell him it's an absolute emergency regarding patients Potter and Malfoy."

One of the nurses nodded and immediately swept through the doors, white robes billowing behind him in his haste.

Knightly looked like he was about to faint from shock. "Healer Davies," he whispered. "What is going on? Are my two boys gonna be alright, or not?!"

Davies turned his gaze to the ground. "At this point, I don't think it's a matter of whether or not they're going to be alright," he said after a moment. "The problem is what this dark magic is doing to them in conjunction. And how hard it's going to be to expel the magic from the two of them."

Before either Kingsley or Knightly could question him further, the doors to the ward came flying open with a gust of wind. The nurse who had left only moments ago now scampered behind a new face as they both strode quickly into the room.

"Blackwell," Davies greeted the man with a tone akin to relief.

"Davies—what's going on?" The new healer, Blackwell, wasted no preamble as he strode over to where his colleague stood amidst the hospital beds. Upon inspection, he realized that both boys were unconscious. He frowned. Didn't I receive word that Draco Malfoy had woken up already? I was going to come check on him shortly before Davies' nurse came and told me to come. Did something happen?

As Blackwell shot Davies a questioning look, Davies coughed lightly. "Blackwell, this is Minister Kingsley." He gestured to Kingsley politely while eyeing Blackwell pointedly. "Minister, this is Blackwell—one of our healers who specializes in the research and treatment of dark magic."

Blackwell turned to Kingsley in slight surprise. Obviously he hadn't realized that they had additional company in the room. "Ah, how rude. My apologies, minister. It's an honor." The stoic faced healer extended a hand politely and shook hands with Kingsley.

"That's quite alright. We have more pressing matters at hand. The formalities can wait," Kingsley said.

Blackwell nodded and turned to Harry's bed, the closest of the two patients to him. "He was stable when he came out of surgery—what happened?" He examined Harry's face and took his pulse, pausing at the elevated beat beneath his fingers.

"That's just it Blackwell," Davies explained in exasperation. "He was doing fine—very well, in fact. Mr. Malfoy was as well. As soon as we tried to treat Mr. Potter's wounds though, the strangest thing happened."

Blackwell gazed at the wound on Harry's chest, then turned to Davies with a raised brow. "Yes?"

"Look over here." Davies strode somberly to Draco's bedside and stared at the wound there.

Blackwell followed his gaze with a frown, and froze when he saw the gash. "That's...how on earth?"

"It wasn't there when he was in surgery, correct?" Davies asked.

"Of course not. Mr. Malfoy's wounds were mostly internal." Blackwell shook his head in confusion.

"There's only one thing that I can think of that could've caused this..." said Davies tentatively.

"What?"

"The dark magic that's still inside of them..."

Xxxx -DxH- xxxX

Blackwell's eyes widened slightly as a wave of understanding crossed over him. "If they were each hit with a dark curse, and that curse left dark magic in both of their bodies..."

"There's a chance that that dark magic is somehow affecting both of their bodies at the same time," Davies finished with a nod.

"So what are you saying?" Knightly questioned with a frown.

"Everything is merely speculation, at this point," Davies responded slowly. "But we think...that the dark magic that we couldn't get rid of—the magic that we said we found in both their bodies in the same spot...There may be a chance that that magic was the result of a curse that was placed on them...A curse that may be inflicting damage on both of their bodies."

Silence once again swept the room.

Davies snapped. "Nurse, please bring me all of the surgery notes for both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, as well as the results of the dark magic screening that we did on both of them.

"Yes, sir!" One of the nurses squeaked, dashing out of the door.

"In the meantime, I think we should apply more of the healing potion onto both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy's wounds while they're under anesthesia," Davies suggested, turning to Blackwell. "What do you think?"

Blackwell opened his mouth, then hesitated. "Why don't...we only apply it to one of them for now?"

"Only one?" Kingsley frowned. "Why?"

"Well, I want to test a hypothesis. If Davies treated Mr. Potter's chest wound and that wound showed up on Mr. Malfoy's chest, then maybe any wound—or treatment of wound—that one of them receives, the other receives as well," Blackwell explained thoughtfully.

Davies nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's try that then!"

Once preparations were complete for the ointment to be applied yet again, Davies' hovered over Harry's chest, dropper in-hand. Knightly stood across from him, watching Harry's wound closely. A short distance away, Blackwell and Kingsley were in similar positions hovered over Draco's body—both sets of eyes trained on Draco's wound.

"Alright, I'll start applying the wound—so let me know if anything changes," Davies said, glancing at each of three other members. With a nod from Blackwell, Davies slowly squeezed the dropper. Like before, several drops of the the high-strength healing topical splashed onto Harry's wound. Almost immediately, the wound seized up and began to cauterize where the liquid touched open skin. Davies applied several more drops when he heard a gasp from behind. He met Blackwell's astounded gaze.

"Young Malfoy's wound...it's healing..." Blackwell darted over to Harry and surveyed the wound. "Both wounds are healing at exactly the same rate..."

"You were right in your hypothesis," Davies breathed with a nod.

"So that means that somehow, the dark magic in both of their bodies are tied together..."

"I have the reports, sir!" The young nurse who Davies had instructed to leave had just returned through the doors of the ward—a small stack of parchment papers in her hand.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Greensberry." Davies snatched the parchment without hardly a second glance at the girl. Blackwell's tall frame peered over Davies' shoulder as he turned and examined the pages. Together, both wizards read through the surgery notes.

"Multiple sources of dark magic infection...wounds...couldn't expel...," Davies murmured as he read.

"There." Blackwell suddenly placed a finger on the page. "What does that say? 'Dark magic scan results'..."

Davies cleared his throat and began to read out loud from the parchment. "We've found additional traces of dark magic in both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy's bodies. The magic is of the same caster and seems to have come from the same spell. The magic is located in the same area (upper left chest/shoulder area) in both patients. At this time, all attempts to expel the magic were unsuccessful. The magic is active, though it shows no signs of harming either patient. At this time, the patients will be placed under observation, and we will forward their cases to Healer Blackwell in the Dark Magic Specialists Wing for further investigation..."

All eyes went to Blackwell.

"Apparently this hadn't gotten to my desk yet," he mumbled.

"So basically that told us nothing," Knightly deadpanned.

"Well, not entirely..." Blackwell supplied hesitantly.

"Oh? How so?"

"The analysis from the scan tells us for sure that the magic we're dealing with came from the same caster, and, most likely, came from the same spell. With that in mind, we can deduce that the magic inside each of them is one and the same."

Knightly squinted at Blackwell. "Now I'm not some smarty-pants healer like you folk, but I'm pretty sure you just repeated everything that we already know, and just phrased it differently."

"What Blackwell is trying to say," Davies cut in, "is that now based on the report that we have, we can guess with almost certainty that Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were most likely hit with the same spell. Likely, one of the wizards they were up against hit them together with the same curse—which means that however that curse affects one of them, it'll affect the other one just the same."

"Oh, well why didn't ya say so!" Knightly rolled his eyes. "When Draco woke up before you came in he did tell us that he and Harry were both struck with a curse—but he said that it didn't seem to do anything."

Kingsley nodded. "Yes. Based on your information, it's safe to say that dark curse Mr. Malfoy was referring to was the one that's causing this damage..."

Blackwell rubbed his chin in thought. "I think that we should try waking the two of them up now, and see if we can get some more answers to help us solve this puzzle."

Davies nodded in agreement.

"Wait!" Knightly suddenly exclaimed. "Why don't you finish putting on that healing potion while they're still knocked out? It obviously wasn't a good idea to do it while they were still conscious..."

"It's not a good idea to apply it too much when they're unconscious either," Davies retorted.

"And why's that?" Knightly settled his hands on his hips defensively.

"Because we can't gauge any side affects of the potion as well if we apply it to an unconscious person," said Blackwell. "Besides—applying the potion when the patient is conscious will help it to work in tangent with their body to help speed up the healing process naturally."

"This topical is sort of a double-edged sword," Davies added. "While it helps to heal the wound quickly, it's also extremely painful for the person receiving the treatment. Thus, we can only apply it in small dosages as the patient tolerates the pain. We wait a few hours between applications to help the pain subside, as well as to give the body a chance to assist in healing the wound itself, as Blackwell was saying."

"I see." Kingsley nodded.

Knightly grumbled under his breath but made no further comment.

"Now—where were we..." Davies glanced around before striding over to a nearby cabinet. After rustling inside for a moment, he returned with two small jars of what appeared to be colored rocks. "Blackwell?" Davies passed one of the jars over to his comrade.

Blackwell took the jar with a nod, moving over toward Draco's bedside as Davies moved to Harry's.

"Ready?"

Blackwell nodded.

"1...2...!" Blackwell and Davies both opened the jars and held them underneath the noses of their respective patients. After a moment, they both retreated and Blackwell passed his jar back to Davies.

After a moment, Knightly frowned. "Is something...supposed to happen?"

Davies rolled his eyes and passed the jars to a nearby nurse. "Patience, my good man."

Blackwell strode to Harry's bedside, resting his fingers on the still-unconscious boy's neck to check his pulse. He nodded, then went to Draco's bed and repeated the same action. Both healers monitored the appearance of their patients carefully as they waited for a sign of either boy starting to stir.

Just as Knightly was about to raise his voice at the lack of "waking up", there was a groan that emitted from one of the beds.

"Ow...bloody hell..."

"Harry!" Knightly breathed a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Easy, give the boy some room," Blackwell cautioned.

Harry grimaced and blinked a few times to get used to the sudden bright lighting. There was still a dull pain in his chest, but it was hardly an ache compared to mind-numbing pain that he had felt before. "Did I...pass out?" he asked hesitantly. That was all he needed—for everyone to think that he was some baby that passed out from a little bit of pain. The last thing he could recall before everything went black was the sound of someone screaming.

"No, no, we...had to anesthetize you..." Davies explained slowly.

"Oh." Harry closed his eyes and tried to swallow his embarrassment. "It's because I was screaming, wasn't I?" His voice was flat. It was more a statement than a question.

"Ah, no! Well, actually..." Davies eyes drifted over to Draco's bed.

Draco had finally begun to stir.

"...Draco...?" Kingsley called gently. He was the closest to Draco's bed.

"Is he waking?" Blackwell strode over to Draco's bedside and peered down at the boy.

Draco's normally pale face was flushed and beads of sweat glistened against his forehead and neck. His eyes were still closed but he was stirring—tossing his head back and forth and mumbling aloud.

"Is he waking up?" Davies asked with a frown.

Harry peered over to where Kingsley and another person who he presumed to be another healer were huddled over Draco's bed. "Is...something wrong?" he asked Davies.

"I'm...not sure."

"Nnm...no...no!..." Draco jerked a few more times and whimpered—still unconscious.

"He's having a nightmare."