His Grey Eyes (A Draco Malfoy fanfic)

4. Draco and Madame Pomfrey

Chapter 4: Draco and Madame Pomfrey

I was aware of my surroundings. I could hear everything. I could feel everything. But I couldn't see or move.

That's when the yelling started.

I knew Clover's voice the instant I heard it. But that confused me more. Who could she be arguing with? It was definitely a guy. I tried to open my eyes but I must have made a sound because the talking abruptly stopped.

"Okay, so what happened?" I tried to say but I wasn't sure if they heard me. I felt really weak and my head was pounding. My eyes slowly opened but I had to squint from the bright light pouring through the glass. Where was I? A dark shape was looming over me.

I saw Clover's black hair and Celeste's grey eyes, but there was also blonde hair. Blonde? The only blonde I knew of was Malfoy. Oh, those eyes....

Snap out of it! Stupid brain…

What's he doing here? Why are they looking at me like I'm crazy?

"Did you hear everything we said?" Celeste questioned. She looked at me suspiciously, and that kind of scared me.

She was never suspicious of me, so I had reason to be scared.

"No, I didn't. Why? Is there something I should know?" The words gushed out of my mouth hurriedly and then I remembered that Malfoy was there. "Malfoy, what are you doing here? Why were you guys yelling? Wait, don't answer that. My head is killing me..."

“Umm, I don’t really know how to answer that,” Malfoy replied. Then, as an afterthought, he added with a chuckle, ”but then again, you told me not to answer.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Celeste roll her eyes and she opened her mouth to speak. “We aren’t sure what exactly happened but I know you fell asleep on your piano. Your muscles got really exhausted and, basically, you buckled. Your head hit the piano and now you have a concussion.”

Well, yay. I finally get an explanation and it’s bad news.

 “But Quidditch is going to start soon! Will I be ready by then?” I asked. I was truly concerned. I needed a sport and volleyball was already taken from me.

“You will be fine by then, just, maybe, change your position,” the old woman said innocently. Madame Pomfrey was, like, Dumbledore aged. No, not really. No one could be Dumbledore aged. It’s just not possible.  Anyways, WHAT?! Was she crazy? I play beater. It’s always been like that, and I can’t really play another position. I’m perfectly willing to change it up; the problem is I don’t know how. My body is muscular in my upper body, not lower body.   

“Why should I change my position?” I tried to be cautious while saying it, but I could feel the anger in the question.

“The position of beater is taxing and you can very well get hit in the head. The risk isn’t worth it which is why I don’t think you should play beater.”

“Not happening.” Did I really just say that? Nope, that was Malfoy. Of course, he would speak up; he’s the team captain. “She’s the best damn beater our team has seen and I’m not replacing her with some mediocre second year!”           

“I agree. I may be in Ravenclaw but this means everything to her; she can’t just leave,” Clover reciprocated Malfoy’s thoughts which was surprising because that rarely happens.

All of us were in agreement except for Madame, and it was pretty obvious that the concussion wasn’t even all that bad. The nurse just sighed in defeat and gave in.