Fear (Sequel to Love: ADS)

Chapter 12 part 1. St. Mungos

I awoke to a soft light on my eyelids, and a gentle murmuring of voices. I could distinguish Hermione’s voice among them, and someone that sounded an awful lot like a former schoolmate, but I couldn’t be sure.

 

I managed to crack my eyes open, and I felt something squeeze my hand. The murmuring grew louder, and I felt a cool hand press against my forehead. I blinked slowly, then again when my eyes had adjusted to the light.

 

A dry, cracked sound escaped my throat, and a blurry form held a glass to my lips. I sipped from it gratefully, the water soothing my throat, scratchy and dry. I blinked again, clearing my vision enough to make out who was who.

 

“There we are, dear.” That was Madam Pomfrey. I finished the glass, and she she took it away. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Ugh.” I managed. I heard a slightly tearful laugh from my side; I glanced over. “Hi.” I whispered. That wasn’t quite as bad as full on talking.

 

“Hi.” Hermione said back.

 

“You had us scared there, Mr. Malfoy.” Madam Pomfrey said, in a tone that was vaguely disapproving. “Even the healers from St. Mungo’s didn’t know what to do with you.”

 

I made a vague apologetic sound as I glanced around. I didn’t recognize this place.

 

Hermione seemed to notice my plight. “You’re at St. Mungo’s now.” she said. “And you have your own room, and you’re also guarded by aurors.”

 

“Aurors?” I raised my eyebrows. Or, well, I tried to. I was still disoriented.

 

“What happened… Well, it got big. You know, a student writes home, parents write to relatives, something gets to the Daily Prophet and everything goes downhill from there.”

 

I closed my eyes. “Please tell me it wasn’t the front page.”

 

“Front and center. Merlin only knows how they managed to get a photograph.” she sighed.

 

“Was it a really bad photograph?”

 

She swatted my arm. “You’re worried about that now?!”

 

“Not really.” I opened my eyes and smiled. “But I thought I’d ask.”

 

She pursed her lips and reached into her bag, pulling out a copy of the newspaper. She held it up.

 

“You know, all things considered, not bad.”

 

She swatted my arm again, but I could see her trying to suppress a smile. “So what, precisely, happened?”