Albus lay in the hospital bed, the smell of mixed potions were strong, mingling with the faint scent of his own Skele-gro as he shifted restlessly beneath the thin hospital sheets. Pain radiated through his body, particularly in his ribs, each breath a reminder of the fall that had landed him here. It felt like a heavy weight pressing down on him, making it difficult to find a position that brought even the slightest bit of relief.
He tried to distract himself by focusing on the small details of the room—the ticking clock on the wall, the distant sounds of the trees dancing outside. But every time he thought he could escape into a moment of calm, a sharp pang would surge through his side, jolting him back to reality. He winced, biting his lip to stifle a groan, feeling frustration bubbling up inside him.
As he glanced at the clock, the numbers glowed softly in the dim light: 4:30 in the morning. Albus let out a heavy sigh, realizing how long he had been awake, wrestling with both physical pain and the anxious thoughts that swirled in his mind. He thought about his parents, wondering if they were worried about him. He missed the warmth of their hugs and the comfort of their presence. The thought of Harry sitting by his side, sharing stories to distract him, felt like a distant memory now.
He closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to drift off, but the pain was relentless. It felt like a cruel joke, with every attempt at sleep thwarted by the throbbing in his ribs. Albus shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only intensified the ache. The night felt endless, and he longed for the dawn to break, hoping that with it would come a sense of relief.
Albus finally managed to close his eyes, hoping that sleep would come and provide an escape from the pain that gripped his side. Just as he began to drift, he was jolted back to awareness by the sound of the door creaking open. His heart quickened slightly, curiosity piquing as he fought against the urge to open his eyes fully.
Instead, he peeked through his eyelids, just enough to catch a glimpse of the figure entering the room. It was Scorpius, his silhouette framed by the dim light in the hallway. Albus felt a flicker of relief wash over him; It was no shock to Albus that Scorpius Malfoy was one for being up first thing in the morning.
He watched as Scorpius approached the bed, a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hand. Albus wondered what it could be—maybe a note? Scorpius' was walking lightly across to Albus' bed and Albus couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation.
As Scorpius drew closer, Albus could see an unfamiliar smile forming on his face, the kind that usually meant he was surprisingly not feeling down. It was a welcoming sight, and Albus felt a warmth spread through him, momentarily distracting him from the ache in his ribs. Scorpius quietly cleared his throat, and Albus could sense that whatever was on that parchment was important to Scorpius.
With a deep breath, Albus opened his eyes just a fraction wider, enough to catch Scorpius' gaze.
"What's that you've got?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
Just as Albus was about to ask again, Scorpius suddenly jumped, his eyes wide.
"Blimey! I thought you were asleep!" he exclaimed, quickly hiding the parchment behind his back as if it were a secret treasure.
Albus couldn't help but let out a small, pained chuckle. "I was trying to be," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
He closed his eyes tightly again, willing himself to drift off, but the pain was relentless. It felt like a cruel joke, with every attempt at sleep thwarted by the throbbing in his ribs.
He shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only intensified the ache. The night felt endless, and he longed for the dawn to break, hoping that with it would come a sense of relief.
