Chapter 8

I debated whether or not to confront Harry about it. He had pried into a very personal matter for me, even if he was just acting on curiosity. The death that I had seen as a child had scarred me, and it was almost physically painful to talk about it. The nightmares and memories of the Deatheaters who had taken her from me had to be calmed by my mother for months afterwards. I hated the cult with a passion, but Draco's father being a member formerly did not faze me.

I knew that he'd changed, and he was a second father to me. I knew that he would never do anything to, or let anyone, hurt me. Narcissa was the same, but she was on neutral ground as the wife of a former Deatheater. I loved her nearly as much as my own mother, and no one could insult or lay a finger on the gentle woman on my watch.

No. I decided as I made my way to Madame Pomfrey's to help her in the hospital wing. I would simply let it go this time, but I would not go so easy on him if it happened again.

The hospital wing was darkening when I arrived, and Mr. Filtch had not come to light the candles yet, but I needed light to be able to work. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and recited effortlessly "Lumos." Instantly, the tip of my wand erupted with a bright white light that illuminated the store room enough for me to see my dark green dress and two year old apron hanging on a hook by the door.

I changed out of my skirt and white blouse, folding them neatly and setting them on a shelf installed there for that purpose, After slipping on the dress and tying the dingy apron around my waist, I stepped out of the storeroom, grabbing some of my frequently used potions-most of which made by yours truly-and shoving them into the pockets of my apron on my way out.

By then Filtch was on a ladder lighting one of the many candles, and I said "Nox," before slipping my wand back in my pocket.

I tended the first patient, a third year Hufflepuff with a broken arm from a bludger. Quidditch season had not yet started at Hogwarts, but the teams were trying out new players since some had graduated the year before, or left the team for one reason or another.

I quickly healed the girl, pouring some of the BoneHeal I had made in my most recent Potion's class with the help of Professor Snape onto her broken arm. She sucked in a breath and held back a scream when the fractured bone snapped into place and mended. "There you go. You'll be alright now." I told her.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway leading to the hospital wing and I thought nothing of it, continuing to tend to the patients that Madame Pomfrey hadn't seen to yet.

The footsteps grew louder and I heard a boy groan in pain and a pair of feet sliding on the floor while another set strode slowly toward the hospital wing. It seemed the one of the pair was helping a lamed other to the ward. I assumed it was other Quidditch players; they were the only patients in here right now except for a girl who was in a coma and had been since the first week. The teachers were now debating whether to send her to Saint Mungo's; they'd already alerted her parents.

I heard a voice call out and I froze, unable to even blink because of who the voice belonged to. "Ivy." It called. It was the voice of the only boy who called me by that name.

Draco Malfoy was in the hospital wing.

I stayed frozen for a second more, then turned as slowly as was polite, not quite willing to look him in the eye just yet. I did look at my newest patient, a short, dark haired Slytherin with a broken leg, what appeared to be a dislocated knee, and a blood soaked face from a broken nose. Quidditch tryouts resulted in injuries far more than the actual games, even in my limited experience.

"Hello Draco." I greeted cautiously, moving away from my now drugged patient and walking slowly toward him, averting my eyes before they could ever land on his flawless face, scrutinizing my patient instead.

He smiled nonetheless and shifted the weight of his housemate. Draco had been named the Slytherin's Team Captain this year since he was the best player on the team, although Harry decided that Draco must have instead bought himself the position, or had his father some how get it for him, like when Draco had joined the team in his second year and the entire team were gifted Nimbus 2001s by Mr. Malfoy. That was before Harry got his Firebolt from Sirius the next year. Draco could still give Harry a run for his money even on his slower broomstick, so he wasn't a bad player. He was one of the best Slytherin had ever had in fact.

I sighed inwardly and wondered if they would ever do so much as declare a truce, no matter how temporary. I hated seeing my two friends fighting constantly, especially when it was over me. I felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war, always pulled between one or the other. They had occasionally questioned where my loyalties lay, declaring that I couldn't have it both ways. I hoped that they would eventually grow out of their rivalry.

His smile fell when he realized that I refused to look at him. He cast his icy gray eyes down and helped his housemate onto an empty cot. I pulled the white curtain and gave my newest patient a sleeping potion since it would be easier to take care of his extensive injuries with him knocked out, and it wouldn't hurt as much. I finished the preliminary examination and discovered that he also had a broken collarbone, a couple of broken ribs. I knew that I was right to give him the sleeping potion, healing him would have hurt like hell otherwise.

"What happened to him?" I asked the Slytherin Captain professionally, setting all of my potions onto the bedside table and sprinting back to the store room for more. When I returned Draco had situated his housemate straight on the bed with his arms folded over his chest and was wiping the blood off of his face with a damp cloth.

I stopped, struck by the contrast of the boy who I'd become used to seeing and the boy whom I saw now. He looked so kind and beautiful as he gingerly tended to his teammate. I sucked in a breath and my eyes sparked. Maybe the boy that I'd known as a child was still in there; perhaps all hope was not lost for Draco Malfoy.

I smiled lightly and arranged the medicines and ointments on the table in the order I'd use them. Draco spoke then, and I finally had the courage to look at him. It seemed so unlike a Gryfindor to be afraid, but there were different kinds of courage, some harder to muster than others.

"He was trying out to be a chaser." The blonde explained as he wiped the rest of the blood from the boy's face. "A bludger hit him in the shoulder and he hit the goalposts before he fell and his broom broke." He straightened the boy's disheveled hair. "He's only twelve." Draco said solemnly.

I pitied the battered second year and empathized with Draco, but our friendship was not back on track. He still had a lot to answer for and I wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

A high point though was that I saw the long lost sensitive side of him coming out as he cared for the boy. I hadn't ever seen that at school, and the last time I did was when I was invited to go to the Quidditch World Cup with him and his parents; the rest of my friends were not pleased.

I could have analyzed his multiple sides all day, but I had a job to do. I pulled my wand from the pocket of my apron and pointed it to the boy's fractured nose after Draco had wiped all of the blood away. I took a deep breath and said, "Episkey." There was a snap, and the boy's nose tweaked back into place. He stirred. I sighed. The pain must still be enough to partially wake him, or he was somehow resisting the sleeping potion.

Just to be sure I recited, "Dorme." He fell back into a deep slumber that no amount of pain could wake him from for several hours. His injuries were extensive, and I was the only healer in the Hospital Wing at the moment; everyone else was off at dinner.

I was glad that Umbridge had not barged in on me. She would have detained me for not only working alone, but probably for not using practices that were up to par; as in using student brewed potions and not letting Madame Pomfrey do all of the work.

My mind shifted back to the task at hand, and I started removing the boy's leather guards so that I could get a better look at his injuries, and some of the potions that I knew I needed to use, my signature BoneHeal specifically, needed to be poured on bare skin to work properly. Draco stayed my hand. I looked into his icy eyes, puzzled. "Let me do that." He said softly.

"I think I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself." I grumbled.

"Please Ivy." He begged. I blinked in shock. He was turning back into the young boy I'd known all those years ago right before my eyes, all condescension and prejudice gone from him. He hadn't been like that since before our first year. What was happening to the Prince of Slytherin?

I allowed him to remove the boy's armor himself while I uncorked most of the bottles and gently poured a few down the boy's throat.

"His name is Raymond Savvoy." Draco said quietly. I turned my head to look at him. He nodded his head toward our patient as he removed the boy's leg guards.

"Oh." I answered, not really knowing what else to say.

He rolled up Raymond's blood soaked pant leg after he removed his boots. I had a green bottle of BoneHeal in my hand and winced when I saw the damage. I was more grateful than ever that I'd had the foresight to put the second year to sleep before I started. What remained of his leg was not a pretty sight; the Fibula and Tibia of his left leg were exposed and poised at odd angles, and the flesh was mangled and red with blood, though most of it had already dried.

Draco's eyes grew wide as he took in the injury. My mind was spinning as I marveled at the way Draco had brought Savvoy in with such extensive injuries. He answered before I could ask. "I had no idea he was that bad."

"What really happened? Tell me everything Dragon." I demanded as I thought about the best way to help the comatose boy who laid on the now blood stained cot. He was hurt far more than I anticipated. I began to think that healing him might be outside of my expertise and considered advising that we send him to Saint Mungo's along with the girl in the far side of the wing. I shook my head. Even if I doubted myself, I knew I at least had to try.

Draco chuckled at the use of his old childhood nickname. He took a deep breath and then explained fully. "I was in the air watching it all." He stopped for a moment as I looked up at him from the boy's leg from which I was trying to wash all of the blood away. The bleeding had stopped, but the thick fluid stuck to his skin and turned the skin and bone a deep crimson. I couldn't see what I was doing with his leg in that state.

Draco glanced at me, his eyes now a warmer gray and full of emotion, peering deep into mine. "Raymond was heading for the goals, but one of the bludgers trained on him and shattered his broom. He went spinning and..." He stopped talking again and I could see the glint of tears forming in his eyes before he lowered his head. I gazed at my classmate gently, caring for him again as he began to break down over his story.

I laid my hand on his arm and he tilted his head up to look at me. "It's okay Draco." I whispered.

He wiped the water from his eyes and continued his narrative. "He went spinning and either the other bludger came at him or it was the same one, I'm not sure, but one of the bludgers hit him in his shoulder blade, shoving him into the goal post. Then he fell off of his broom into the gap between the stands and the Quidditch Pitch."

I winced, able to see the accident clearly in my head. "He hit the beams didn't he?" I guessed. He nodded.

"Poor kid." I breathed, stroking the sleeping boy's hair gently. I took out my wand again, now knowing exactly what I had to do, but I needed to put him under as much as I possibly could so that he wouldn't feel anything. "Dorme Maxima." Soft blue light poured out the tip of my wand and fell onto Raymond, putting him into a magically induced coma so deep that only magic could wake him up.

Now that I sure that Raymond would never feel anything, I want back over to his leg and gently nudged the fractured bones back in place for a seamless mend. I took my trusty bottle of BoneHeal and poured a small amount onto the bone, then looked away as the bones healed. It truly was bizarre the way the bones snapped back into place and healed; it was close to vomit inducing to watch it when the skin was broken and the bones were exposed. Draco followed my lead and looked away.

When the potion had done its work, I set it back on the table and poured one of the many other potions on Raymond's mangled skin, causing it to fuse together again without a scar. Working in the Hospital Wing was a grim business, but one of the most rewarding in the school, and it was encouraged for students to do an extra-curricular after their first year. Quidditch counted.

His leg healed, I turned my attention to the next injury that needed his leg healed to mend: his dislocated knee. I pulled the leg of his trousers up more and examined his knee. The tell tale swelling and shifted joint confirmed that my initial diagnosis was right; Raymond Savvoy, on top of everything else, had a badly dislocated knee cap.

I'd hoped that my diagnosis had in fact been wrong, fixing a dislocated knee was a two person job. I motioned for Draco to come over to my side of the cot. He looked at me quizzically, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do. I puled his arm and he stumbled over to me.

"I need you to hold his leg here." I said, wrapping my hands around Raymond's thigh about half way up. He replaced my hands quickly and I moved to Raymond's lower leg. "I need you to hold onto his leg firmly, okay?" I said. He nodded.

I grabbed hold of the boy's leg and looked at Draco. His eyes told me that he would not let go. "On three?" I said. He nodded again. I counted, and pulled. The joint snapped back into place with an audible crack.

The rest of Raymond's injuries were easier to tend to, and within another half an hour Raymond was well and I lifted the sleeping spell off of Raymond; he would wake in a few hours.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" asked Draco sharply after Raymond was sleeping soundly.

Suddenly enraged, I grabbed the lapel of his coat and pulled him into a far corner of the Hospital Wing. I stared into his face with my hard stare and frankly froze him in place. "Why am I avoiding you? You insulted me Draco Malfoy. You insulted me in front of my friends."

"When?" he asked indignantly.

I scoffed and resisted the urge to punch him in the jaw. "You insulted me when we got off the train. And don't even try to tell me that you didn't think I was listening because you looked right at me Draco. You knew that I would hear."

He was obviously taken aback by my outburst, but said nothing, still to proud to admit that he was in the wrong.

"You need to go." I answered back evenly, moving to go into the store room.

When I changed back into my normal clothes to head down to what remained of supper, Draco was gone.