Enemies to Lovers: DreamNotFound Hogwarts AU

7

A/N: Sorry for the late chapter, I've been revising for a chemistry exam but I'm here now :) TY FOR 2K READS BTW!! One important note for this chapter is the reminder that the contents of the notepad are to REMAIN SECRET until a further chapter! Now let's get on with the story

George awakens with a dull pain underlying the numbness in his right arm. To him, he feels like he's enclosed by the strong stench of medicine, and the noises of prescription pills rattling rang in his ear. Even before he opened his eyes he knew he wasn't in his dorm room. Where was he? Oh. That's right. He had fallen off his broom the day before, or the week before, or even months before. George just couldn't remember. Then it dawned on him: Clay was dragged down with him.
When George did decide to open his eyes, his vision was blurred and almost untrustworthy. All he saw were moving shapes and light and darkness fading in and out. As his vision cleared, he looked around him and noticed he was in the infirmary. He was wearing blue hospital clothes and felt something weigh down on his arm. Glancing down, it dawned upon him that he was wearing a white cast around his arm.

"Oh good, you're awake,"
George jumped and looked to his left and was met by the sight of Clay. He was wearing the same outfit as George was, except his arm wasn't broken - his leg was. It was held up with some sort of magic ropes. Clay caught him watching his leg.

"Broken leg. No quidditch for a while I guess," Clay gave a smile but his eyes didn't express the usual happiness - his dimple wasn't found.

"I'm sorry- I don't think quidditch is for me, I don't know why I even tried to get on the team- I mean obviously, you're really good at quidditch, you know all of the right things to do and-" George rambled. Clay held up a hand, signalling for him to stop talking.

"It's fine, George, don't worry about it. It'll only be broken for a few weeks or so. Besides, missing lessons doesn't seem that bad." Clay grinned.

"Missing lessons? We have two Potions classes this week and I'm so behind," George complained.

"It's fine don't worry, I can give you my notes once we're out of here." Clay smiled. George turned away from him and stared at the hospital band around his wrist, which he had only just noticed was even on him. On the little slip of paper, it read November 22nd, Quidditch dismount, Mild damage. He had to admit that 'Quidditch dismount' was a bit of an understatement. A bell rang and wheels could be heard scraping across the floor, causing George to lift his head up. He was met by the sight of one of the nurses walking towards them with a trolley full of food and medicine. She had blonde hair and was wearing a red dress covered with a white apron, accompanied by a matching white bonnet. As she neared, George was able to read her nametag, which read 'Niki' on the label. 

"Here's your food, please eat slowly because you're both not sitting up fully straight," Niki placed the bowl of soup on their laps and gave them spoons. She also gave both of them clear bottles filled with what looked like sparkling water, but in reality, was a potion for a speedy recovery. Clay and George ate in silence, occasionally glancing up to each other to share an encouraging smile.

***

It was now the first of December, and George had fully recovered, he had only chosen to stay in the comforts of the hospital room to keep Clay company. Clay could now walk around the hospital room without limping too much, but still occasionally leaned on George when he practised walking because his leg 'suddenly had a huge cramp'. Over the nine days they spent together in the hospital room, Clay and George had grown particularly close - they told each other stories from their childhood and gossiped about the people in their houses. Overall, the two of them decided they enjoyed time in the other's company.

It was early in the morning on this December day, around 8:30 am. Frost lined the roofs of the other buildings and the leafless tree branches were lifeless; everything was still and silent. George was sat on his bed, flipping through the pages of his notepad and occasionally scribbling something down. Clay watched him, concentrating on how his face scrunched up whenever he had to focus on writing something, or how there was a shine in his eyes as he sketched something. What the contents of what was on those pages, Clay thought he'd never know. Soon, the sound of shoes walking through the recently polished floor could be heard from across the hospital room - George lifted his head up and saw Blade walking into the room. Blade gave George a smile, but it didn't show in his eyes like it used to before. 

"George!" Blade almost shouted as he neared towards George. George looked up and softly closed his notepad.

"Hi Blade," George smiled and placed the notepad on his lap, "You haven't visited all week" a frown appeared on George's face.

"Yeah, I was really busy I'm sorry," Blade stood over George, who was just sitting on his bed the whole time. Clay looked at Blade, a stone-cold expression on his face to prevent himself from revealing any of his emotions.

"I brought something for you," Blade reached into his bag and brought out a small blue box. He placed it in George's hands, waiting for him to open it. George slowly unwrapped the black bow and lifted the lid off the cube. Inside, little pressed daisies lay on a mini white silk pillow. George looked up at Blade, who gave a smile at him. Blade bent down and leaned in to hug George, which was a weirdly angled hug considering George was laying in the bed and Blade was standing up. As Blade leaned in, he whispered into George's ear.

"Maybe this will help expand your, let's say, interesting notebook," Blade pulled away from the hug, leaving George in shock. His notebook? How would Blade have known this would relate to his notepad unless he read it? Blade gave another ear-wide grin and bent down to George once again, this time giving a soft kiss on his cheek. He then stood up again and walked out of the hospital room door, the heel of his shoe being the only noise that cut through the silence. George turned to Clay, who was just staring at the empty space where Blade had just been. He turned around yet again and looked at the box in his hand once more.

What the fuck.