the one | h. potter

13. st mungo's

It's cold. That's the first thing that registers in my mind when I first wake up. Everything is blurry, my ribs ache, and there's an annoying beeping noise right next to my ear.

I see the outline of an IV strapped into my arm. I try to lift my head to get a better look but immediately lower it again because of a pounding pain in my head. My throat is dry, my arms are peppered with goosebumps, and my toes are freezing; someone has removed my shoes.

I see a mediwitch walk over, holding a dropper with just a drop of sparkling blue potion. She places it on my tongue, and I'm out like a light.

• • •

The next time I wake up, I feel much better. My headache is gone, and the pain in my ribs has lessened to a dull ache. I open my eyes and adjust to the bright lights of St. Mungo's.

I lift my head and study my surroundings. An IV is still plugged into my arm, but someone has put a blanket over me, which is why I'm no longer cold. The room I'm in is painted a clean white. The walls are bare, and a bedpan sits on the counter beside me. I hear a loud beep and a mediwitch walks in.

"Ah, good, you're awake," she says.

"Hi," I manage to croak out. My throat is still dry and my lips are cracked. "How long was I out?"

"Not that long, only a day."

"A day?!" 

"Well, you were hit with an unidentifiable dark spell to the ribs. We managed to undo the spell, but there might still be some residual damage to your ribs. You'll be sore for a couple of days, but we'll send some potions home with you once you're discharged."

"A couple of days?" I ask. "Are you sure? I heal fast."

The mediwitch chuckles. "I'm sure you do, but we need you to rest. You can return to work tomorrow, as long as you promise not to overexert yourself."

I take a deep breath, which ends up being a mistake. Immediately, my chest burns with pain, and I begin to gasp and cough. The mediwitch rushes over and hands me a potion, which I rapidly gulp down. I recognize the sweet taste; it's a combination of a pain reliever and calming drought.

I lay back in my bed and sigh. I've taken this potion many times before; it's a good menstrual cramp reliever. Someone knocks on the door, and the mediwitch side-eyes the door and addresses the visitor. Through the open door, I hear:

"Can I see her?"

Draco.

I don't hear the witch reply, but she must have let Draco in because he rushes inside.

"Liz, are you okay?" he asks.

"Fantastic! One of the best days of my life, honestly."

"I'm not appreciating your sarcasm right now," he replies, pinching his forehead. "What happened? They told me you were hit with a curse in the ribs."

"I went on a mission," I say. "They found Yaxley at Smith Manor, and they sent-."

"They sent you, to deal with a Death Eater?" Draco seethes.

"Yeah. I'm pretty much the most qualified person to do it in the Ministry right now."

"You should've told me."

"Again, you're not my dad."

"I care about you, though," he says, placing his hand on mine.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, just basking in each other's presence. "I better go, don't want to upset mother."

"Give her my best."

"Of course," Draco says, "She sends her regards."

Draco kisses my forehead and heads towards the door but almost runs into someone else entering the room.

Is that... Harry?

It is. Harry walks in, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand. I internally squeal but try to focus my attention on finding a good excuse as to why his arch-nemesis came to visit me in the hospital.

"Uh-" Harry starts. "Hi. Am I interrupting something?"

My brain scrambles to respond to him. "No. Draco was just leaving."

"Potter," Draco says stiffly, nodding at Harry.

"What- what is he doing here?" Harry asks, sounding nervous.

"He was just leaving."

"Right," Draco says, and shuffles out the door quietly.

As clicks shut behind him, Harry turns towards me. He doesn't look happy.

"Would you like to explain to me why Malfoy was in your hospital room?"

"He's my friend."

"That's a good one. I saw him kiss your forehead through the glazing." I freeze. "Is he your boyfriend too?"

I shake my head. "Draco's been a family friend for ages," I tell him. "Our parents were good friends. We were raised sort of like brother and sister."

Harry deflates and softens his voice. "Oh. That's why you were at his trial?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well, I'm sorry." Harry looks around sheepishly, and when his eyes land on the roses he's holding, he holds them out for me.

"I got you these."

"Thank you," I smile.

"So, what exactly happened? Kingsley said you got hurt on a mission?"

I nod. "Yeah. I got hit in the ribs with some nasty curse."

"I hope you get better soon." Harry places his hand on my leg, sits down on the corner of the bed, and looks at me. 

"Harry, why'd you come?"

He gives me a confused look. "To make sure you were okay."

"Then why didn't Katie or Ron come?"

Harry chuckles. "Well, when I asked if they wanted to come with me, they giggled, which, by the way, I have never heard Ron giggle, and said they could wait until after we'd, and I quote, had our fun."

I burst out laughing and immediately grab my ribs. I laugh through the pain as Harry watches me, an adorable grin on his face.

"They ship it, don't they?" I ask, smiling.

"Do you?"

The question startles me. Harry asked the question without hesitation, almost like a reflex. He seems to have just realized what he said because his cheeks grow bright red and his eyes widen.

"You know what? You don't have to answer that."

I laugh nervously. "The question is, do you want to answer that question, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, Merlin," Harry laughs. He scratches the back of his head nervously. "Katie sure is something."

"Tell me about it. There was one time, in our fifth year, when she knew two of our friends had crushes on each other, so she staged a plan so it looked like they asked each other out. And guess what? They didn't even find out until months later!"

Harry laughs and smiles at me.

"I haven't known Katie as long as you have, but she sounds like a great friend."

"Bit of a drama queen, actually," I giggle.

"So, are you going to be back at work tomorrow?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Well, I've got to run, we've got some more training lessons in fifteen minutes. I'll see you tomorrow, then?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

As he stands up and walks out the door, I realize that I really wish he had stayed.