A New Chapter at Hogwarts [Drarry] ✔

Chapter 43: A Quiet Kind of Courage

As the soft morning light spilled into the hospital room, bathing it in a gentle warmth that softened the sterile edges of the space, Harry found himself fidgeting beneath the blankets. He'd spent eight days confined to this room, and each one had dragged on with the same tedious rhythm of healing potions, diagnostic spells, and enforced rest. The thrill of knowing he'd finally be discharged today was enough to send his pulse racing.

Across the room, Draco moved with careful precision, tidying up the few belongings they'd accumulated over the week. He folded the charcoal jumper he'd brought for Harry—a garment that had provided some semblance of comfort during his stay—and set it aside with a thoughtful frown. Harry's stack of books was neatly arranged on the small table, a blanket with intricate silver threads folded on top. The blanket had been Draco's addition, an effort to bring a bit of warmth and familiarity to the otherwise impersonal room. Harry couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling as he watched Draco's practiced hands work through each item, preparing for their return to Hogwarts.

"I don't think I've ever been this eager to leave a place in my life," Harry remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Draco raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips as he set the blanket down. "Really, Potter? I'd think you'd grown rather attached to your hospital bed by now. Who could blame you—the endless potions, the impeccable culinary offerings..."

Harry rolled his eyes, unable to stifle his laughter. "Oh, don't make me nostalgic, Malfoy. If I could leave now, I'd be halfway to Hogwarts already. You've no idea how ready I am to get back to some semblance of normal."

Draco smirked, crossing his arms as he regarded Harry with a look that was half-amused, half-affectionate. "Normal, hmm? I seem to remember you complaining about the endless chaos at Hogwarts on more than one occasion. Teaching must really be growing on you."

"Alright, alright," Harry conceded, chuckling. "Maybe I'll regret it once I'm buried in essays to grade, but right now, even the idea of chaotic classrooms sounds like paradise compared to another day in this bed."

Just then, the door opened, and Healer Fairburn entered, a soft rustling of robes accompanying her steps. She was a woman of middle age, with kind eyes and a firm, no-nonsense manner that had won Harry's respect early on in his stay. "Good morning, Mr. Potter. Ready to finally break free, are we?"

"More than you can imagine," Harry replied, practically beaming.

She smiled, setting a parchment down on the table beside him. "Just a few things to go over before you're out of our hands," she said, gesturing to the list of aftercare instructions. "I understand you're keen on returning to your duties, but you'll need to take it easy for at least the next week. You'll need to take the Skeletal Mending Tonic once a day in the morning to help with bone resilience; the Nerve Regeneration Elixir, twice a day for your arm and leg to reduce strain on the muscles; and Healing Essence, a general recovery aid, every night before bed. It'll ensure you're not pushing yourself too hard without realising it."

Harry nodded attentively, though he couldn't help the impatient glances he cast towards Draco, who was watching the healer with his usual composed attentiveness. Draco's hand rested on the back of Harry's shoulder, his thumb absently tracing circles, grounding Harry's excitement just enough to keep him focused.

"Understood, Healer Fairburn," Draco said smoothly, nodding as she explained the rest of Harry's care. "I'll make sure he sticks to it." He picks up the parchment, his eyes skimming the words before he tucks it away in his robes.

Harry tried not to roll his eyes at Draco's serious tone. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, smiling. "Thank you for all your help. I promise to be a model patient."