nudes >> drarry

xxxii - a lot of words.

Harry clutches his arm as he makes his way into the hospital wing. The bright lights blinding him for a second before continuing to a chair and taking a seat. The pain in his arm barely noticeable and reduced to a dull throbbing ache, due to how much his head is still spinning.

In retrospect, it was probably not the best idea to go flying with the weather how it been, but everything was just too much. He had been so confident, so sure that the mysterious dragon had had been texting for the past several months had been none other than Draco Malfoy, but now.. he didn't know what to think.

Really it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. Blaise isn't too bad, he's pretty fit and can always have a good laugh. But he's still not Draco. Nott, he didn't even know him well, they've only passed a few words within all eight years, though they had not been kind words, though that was normal with a lot of the slytherins.

So yes, he was disappointed. Though it could've been worse, could've been Goyle.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a familiar voice break through the air. "Oh Harry! What have you done now? I swear you are in here far to often for it to be healthy!"

"Madam Pomfrey, how are you? You know I do this on purpose, just so I can come see how you're doing."

"Oh shush, let me see that arm of yours." He reluctantly lets it out of his grip and winces as she takes a hold. "How this time?"

"Flying" he shrugs.

"Well this really is on you then. You should've known better than to go flying in this wether. I swear you're trying to get yourself killed. Now go sit in a bed over there while I tend to my other patient."

For the first time since he had been here he took a look around the room only to see a pale, bruised figure with snow white hair. Silver orbs burn into his green ones.

-

"Oh Harry! What have you done now? I swear you are in here far to often for it to be healthy!" Draco's face drains of all color when he hears Pomfrey shout to the newest presence in the room.

Potter.

He snaps his head in the direction to see a mess of dark wild hair and a sheepish looking Gryffindor. An eighth year, Gryffindor to be exact. Which means..

Really he shouldn't be all that shocked, he spent months texting this boy, but he also spent years hexing him. Still he can't help but become frozen and numb all over when he realizes who it is.

A series of questions run through his head.

Does this change anything? Will he know it's me? Will he be disappointed when he finds out? If he finds out.

He doesn't realize that they have stopped talking until Harry meets his eyes and his jaw drops open and eyes widen.

Oh shit. He's pissed. He still hates me, probably regretting pulling me out of that fire right about now. He's probably just to shocked to pull out his wand and hex me. What should I do? Sneer? Cry? No. He thinks to himself, he's still in far to much shock to make any movements.

But shockingly Potter seems to rebound from the initial shock and sends a small, almost hesitant smile towards the blond.