Chapter Text
Harry noticed the lights dim as he ran towards Knocturn alley
What should have been a routine raid had gone badly wrong. He’d picked up more than a few bruises, and now his chest burned as he coughed up blood, still expected to track down the person behind the killing sprees in Muggle London.
He slowed as he passed Borgin and Burkes.
Harry heard muffled voices from inside the shop. Harry couldn’t make out who they belonged to, but through the dusty window he caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone stood at the counter, slipping a ring onto their finger, a black stone, edged in silver.
Before he could get a better look, a familiar voice spoke beside him.
“Rough night, then?” Ron asked , scanning the alley.
“Did you catch him?” Harry said still startled by Ron appearance.
Ron nodded. “Yeah Pansy did, she did quite a number on that one” as Harry said nothing, just lifted an eyebrow and grunted.
“Let’s get you patched up at,shall we.” Ron said.
“I’m fine.” Harry replied.
Ron gave him a look. “You’re coughing up blood.”
“It’s probably temporary.”
Ron snorted. “Brilliant. I’ll put that on the report. Auror Potter: temporarily bleeding.”
Harry shifted, wincing. “I’ve had worse.”
“Yeah, and that’s exactly why Shacklebolt will have my head if I let you wander off.”
Harry opened his mouth to argue but Ron didn’t give him the chance as they apparated.
Harry stumbled on landing, grabbing Ron’s sleeve. “Are you mental? You could’ve splinched us.”
Ron steadied him without comment. “Could’ve,” he said. “Didn’t”
They took the stairs to the fourth floor.
Harry barely registered the ache in his shoulder as they reached the landing. His attention shifted to a figure further down the corridor , silver-blond hair, healer’s robes.
For a second, he thought he recognised him.
That was impossible.
“Strolling around hospitals again?” Padma said from the desk, not looking up. “Do you need treatment, or are you here to vandalize hospital property again?”
“That was once,” Harry said. “And he attacked me.”
Ron cut in, nodding towards Harry’s arm. “Dislocated shoulder. Happened during the raid.”
Padma finally looked up. Her expression softened just a little before she sighed.
“Right,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry. Long shift.”
She tapped her quill against the clipboard, clearly running on caffeine and stubbornness alone.
“Second bed,” Padma said, jerking her head towards the ward. “A Healer will see you shortly.”
Harry hated hospitals.
They were cold, dull, and had a way of making him feel like he was being inspected rather than helped, so much for his saviour complex.
“What’s brought you in tonight?” the blond Healer asked.
Harry looked up. If anyone had asked him, he’d have said Draco Malfoy looked very different from five years ago—worn down, his robes no longer pressed to perfection, his face paler than usual and marked by dark circles beneath his eyes.He still wore the same irritated expression, though, like the world had personally inconvenienced him.
“I’ve got a dislocated shoulder,” Harry said. “But it’s fine if you don’t want to treat me.”
It came out ruder than he’d meant it to.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “If you’re expecting anyone else to drag themselves out of bed at this hour,” he said dryly, “you’re welcome to try.”
Harry scowled. “You make it sound like a favour.”
Malfoy glanced at the chart. “You’re bleeding along with it, get patched up and give us both a break.”
Harry obliged, answering Malfoy’s questions as best he could about the nature and extent of his injuries. Malfoy cast a quick spell over the bruising, murmuring under his breath as the marks faded.
Whenever Malfoy used his magic, Harry felt strangely warm. He blamed it on shock. Or maybe a fever.
“This will hurt,” Malfoy said.
Before Harry could respond, Malfoy’s hand settled firmly on his shoulder—and with a sharp, efficient movement, pushed it back into place.
Harry shouted as he felt immense pain, his raid wasn’t have bad as this pain.
“Merlin’s beard—what was that? Still a prick right?,” Harry snapped, breathless.
Malfoy didn’t even look apologetic. “You won’t feel much pain now. I learned the Muggle way of doing it. Easier for the body to recover from.”
To Harry’s surprise, he was right.The sharp agony was gone, replaced by a deep, aching soreness. It still hurt,but nothing like before.
“Take this potion for your shoulder,” he said, setting a blue vial on the bedside table. “It should be better by morning.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “Anything else I can help you with?”
“Nothing,” Harry said. Malfoy nodded and turned away, Harry could see him visible relax, Malfoy nodded and turned back to his chart, quill scratching across parchment.
“Draco,” Harry said suddenly “Thank you.”
For a moment, Malfoy looked startled, just a flicker of it, caught off guard by his name instead of his surname.
“It’s my duty,” Draco quietly, before walking out.