British Academy of Wizarding

What an awful day, he thought to himself, glaring dully out the window at his reflection and the storm lashed trees. His reflection glared back at him, and he took a few moments to make sure he was still looking his best, in case any one happened upon him. Sighing melodramatically, he pulled away from the icy chill of the window, just in time to jump as a gust of wind pushed a bucket of rain against it loudly. Sighing again, he stood up.

This was a stupid idea, he added silently, kicking the chair he'd been sitting in. Two months ago, his teacher, that bloody ex-Hufflepuff mudblood Lina Mayer had assigned him to the hospital. She'd been a seventh year in his first year at Hogwarts, and it was just his luck that she'd end up teaching his most hated class in the Academy of Wizarding, University Level.

Muggle Studies.

Whichever bloody secretary had decided that he, Draco Malfoy, should take a class as inane and useless as muggle studies was so far off their rocker that they ought to have been taken to St. Mungo's.

Still, after the demise of the Dark Lord, Hogwarts was still unsafe to attend, and most of the underclassmen had transferred to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons to complete their education. The seventh years, himself included, had been shipped to the Academy to finish their N.E.W.T.s. There was one conspicuous absence from everything, and as much as he scowled about it, Draco couldn't deny a sense of curiousity about the whereabouts of the famous Boy-Who-Lived.

"Mr. Malfoy?" The quiet voice at the doorway made him jump slightly, and his scowl turned thunderous as he barked, "What?"

Looking shy, the pretty young thing lowered her eyes. "Sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but you're free to leave now. Thank you for your help." She nodded once in his direction, and was gone.

Free at last! Draco crowed silently, and gathered his things. Professor Mayer had deemed him 'worthy' of attending the great bloody Muggle hospital, and volunteering for two months as his first term assignment, and he'd loathed every moment of it. Being told he was finally free to stop pretending to be a filthy Muggle set his heart soaring, and not even the insidious crack of thunder from outside could slow his happiness. He'd simply set a charm to keep the water off him while he was outside, and finally be rid of the brellum thing he'd been forced to use.

Wandering down the now-familiar hallways of the hospital, he found himself looking absently at the names on the doors. Pike, M.; Stainer, C.; Goodnight, R.; Clinton, H.; Potter, H.; Laramie, E….

Stopping so suddenly he nearly tripped over his feet, Draco did a classic double take on the name. How many people in this section of Britain would be called H Potter? Knocking on the door gently, he pushed it open and was assaulted by the scent of dozens of flowers, sparkly cards, and a steady insidious beeping. He knew from his volunteer work what the thing was, but still considered it a filthy Muggle device, and wondered how they could stand the beeping. Taking a closer look, he found a semi-attractive young man, about the same age as himself, with wild dark hair and a pale, oval face. Shifting the hair back from his forehead to check, Draco was stunned into silence by the familiar lightning shaped scar he found there. By Merlin's bloody beard, it's Harry Potter!

-------

He'd been trapped for so long, the lines between reality and this room had blurred. He'd never been free of the Room; that was just a distant dream. He’d never be free of it, either, and that was a rather up-close-and-personal nightmare, all things considering. He knew there was a world outside the Room; he could hear the women and sometimes men speaking around him in hushed tones. The same words kept cropping up, meaningless to him. "Comatose" and "Might never wake up." "A miracle...still alive."

After a while, even the voices stopped, and he forgot where he was, how he'd gotten there, and even who he was. He remembered things like Ron, and Malfoy, but had no idea what they were, or even if they were real, or just the insane ramblings of a shattered mind.

There had been no voices for such a long time, that when he finally became aware of the noise around him, he didn't recognize it at first.

-------

Draco was so stunned by the discovery, that he'd plopped himself unceremoniously into the nearest chair and was sitting there, staring like he'd lost his wits. "Harry Potter," he murmured into the semi-dark room. The beeping continued unabated, his only response. "What are you doing here, you bloody wanker? How in Salazar's ancient name did you find yourself in a Muggle hospital? Why the hell weren't any of us told?!"

He felt cheated, and he knew it. Potter was supposed to die by the hand of Voldemort, or defeat the Dark Lord and return to school, like the rest of them, and they'd perhaps continue their old rivalry. Perhaps Potter would fall at Draco's own hands, making him a hero in the eyes of the fallen and scattered Death Eaters. Instead, Potter had disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. His friends had all mourned and moved on; they all assumed him dead. He'd done his job; the Dark Lord was gone, no more need for him.

Finally gathering his thoughts, Draco picked himself up off the chair, and stalked out. For a moment, he considered using Imperio to get what he wanted, and then realized that he was popular enough that use of force was unnecessary. Upon arriving at the nurse's station, he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it slightly, and offered an apologetic smile as he cleared his throat to get her attention.

The head nurse turned a withering glare on him, a glare that faded instantly upon seeing the mussed hair and smile on the usually pinched, perfect features. "Can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, almost sweetly. He nodded, and gestured towards the room. "Harry Potter, ma'am," he said, forcing his tone into lightness. "I'd like to know when he arrived?"

"Oh, are you a friend of his then?" A nurse’s aide who'd happened by just in time to hear him ask paused. "That's so nice! If I'd known, I'd've shown you long before now. He's been here nigh on a year, hasn't he Maggie? Came in comatose, and hasn't even twitched a finger. Doctors don't have no hope for him. You've not punched out yet, I can still show you what you're looking for. Night, Maggie!" Draco's eyes found her nametag; Felicia. He recognized her from his forced volunteer work at the hospital, but he'd never cared enough to learn who the rest of the workers were.

-------

Harry felt the voice leave as a physical ache in his chest. Don't go! The words echoed back at him, and he sighed, returning his eyes to the empty lot before him. He knew the voice; he'd heard it before. Mostly when he slept, he heard it, a distant memory pushed to the surface of his thoughts. "Scared, Potter?"

Oo is.

Scared, Potter?

Terrified.

Scared...?

"Potter?"

-------

Draco was back the next day, having reported to Professor Mayer that he'd completed his volunteer stint. She was ecstatic that he'd chosen to go back, though he hadn't told anyone the reason why. He was barely thinking it; he was a horrible Occlumens.

Sitting down near the bed in the same chair from last night, Draco leaned over on his knees. "Potter? Wake up, Potter." There was absolutely no reaction; not that he'd expected one. Sighing, he leaned back and wondered what he was doing there. He'd hated Potter from the first moment he'd ever laid eyes on him in Madam Malkin's. The hatred had grown when the Boy-Who-Lived snubbed his friendship in favor of a Weasley, and a mudblood. "I hate you," he informed the comatose man. Potter's hair was longer and wilder than ever, and the scar had faded considerably. Flipping through the papers at the end of the bed, Draco discovered that Potter had been there for just over nine months; since well before the start of the term at the Academy. Peering at the dates, he realized that Potter must have dispatched Voldemort, and come straight to the hospital. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, Draco added silently. What the bloody hell had happened that night?

--------------

One week later to the hour, Draco was there again. He'd become an even more popular figurehead at the hospital. Not only was he snarky-yet-sexy, he was a devoted friend. All the women gossiped about him when they thought he couldn't hear them, and the things he heard served only to puff up his ego. If he hadn't wanted to keep going out of curiousity, he might have simply to hear the nice things they were suddenly all saying about him. He even managed to tone down the attitude; they had, after all, been taking care of the savior of the Wizarding World without even being aware of it.

"Hullo, Harry," he said, addressing the comatose man like an old friend. Dropping into what had become his chair, he eyed the flowers the nurses had been delivering. Even amongst witless Muggles, Potter was a hero. "Still as popular as ever, I see. Even half-dead you're a bloody saint." He'd performed a small silencing charm on the beeping machine, effectively saving his sanity while he was there. Staring into Potter's slack face, he tried to imagine the last few things he'd seen. Over the past week, he'd considered and rejected countless theories in that chair, and he was still no closer to figuring out what happened. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him, and he jumped up so fast that the chair fell over. "Gods and Angels, I'm stupid!" he announced to the sleeping boy, and rushed over to the Nurse's station. "Ma'am," he asked, doing his best to look earnest. "Could you tell me where his belongings are?" She nodded, and smiled, and unlocked the small cabinet in the room for him.

"His clothes are a bit wonky," she explained, "but they seem nice enough." Draco shoo'd her away, to dig in privacy. The things he found made his breath catch in his throat. A phoenix's feather, an invisibility cloak, his glasses, a time-turner. A large blank bit of parchment, and a silver sword, studded with red gems. Finally, the thing he was looking for; Harry's wand.

"Prior incantato!" Draco whispered hurriedly, tilting the tip of his wand against it. A wispy green light trailed from the tip of Harry's wand, and Draco dropped them both in surprise. Breathless, Draco stared at the wand, still trailing green, as though it would leap up and kill him there on the spot.

The last spell Harry cast was avada kedavra. The knowledge trickled through his brain like a finger of ice. Knowing that Harry had killed Voldemort, and seeing the tangible proof of it were two utterly different things.

"Deletrius!" He whispered, and the green smoke vanished. Putting Harry's belongings away, he picked up his own wand, and tucked it back into his pocket. Returning to his seat, he stared at Harry silently for a long time before leaving.

-------

The more he heard the voice, the more he recognized the words being spoken to him. The man came to him, and spoke of things like Hogwarts, and mudbloods, weasels and dark lords.

The mention of 'Dark Lord' caused him to black out; he didn't regain what passed for consciousness until the voice was long gone. He now recognized his name as Harry Potter, and that he'd done something monumental. The minor details - who the mysterious voice was, where he was, the details of this monumental accomplishment - were all missing, and he found that he didn't really care. So long as he could continue to hear from the voice, nothing in the world mattered.

-------

Draco couldn't stop going to see him. His Muggle studies class went by almost alarmingly quickly, and he lost his alibi for returning to the hospital, day after day. He spent a few days away, but found that he craved the silence of the room, and realized he looked forward to unloading his day’s trouble off on the sleeping man. Telling Zabini and Parkinson to sod off one night, he went back.

-------

Harry had no sense of time, but he was aware enough to figure out that it had been an extraordinarily long time since his Voice had returned. Have I chased him off? Harry wondered, disconsolately. Will he ever come back? That was the question that haunted him most. Will he come back? He was the only bright spot in Harry's dark, nightmarish world, and he missed the Voice greatly.

He nearly cried with relief when he heard it again, a soft tenor that had just a hint of ice to it.

"Sorry, Harry. My Muggle Studies class ended, and I couldn't think of a way to get back here without people wondering. Blaise has been driving me nuts with questions; 'Where do you go, Draco? Who are you seeing? When will you introduce us? Are you going to bring her back to the dorms soon?' Nosy sod,"

He recognized the names Blaise and Pansy, from his Voice's talking of them before, but it was the first time, he realized, that he'd heard the name of his savior. Draco. Savoring the sound of it, he repeated it to himself over and over, and longed to see the face of the man who kept him sane. Combining the warm timbre of the voice to the name, Harry envisioned a tall, lanky man with pale skin and dark hair. Maybe not black, but rich shades of auburn and red; fiery like his personality. He had perfect teeth; he sounded cultured, and reasoned that he must be rich. His manners proved that he'd been raised right; even when he was furious, Draco never failed to greet him by name before launching into the tirades against his friends.

As often as he was irate, Draco was amused, and often came in laughing with humourous tales of the things he and his friends had gotten into while at school. "We're like the Golden Trio of Hogwarts," he'd joked, and the name jarred Harry's memories. He'd gone to Hogwarts, once; it was a school. He'd practiced magic there.

"And today, Luna Lovegood came in wearing the most ridiculous red hat I've ever had the displeasure of looking at in my LIFE," Draco was saying. "It's been a year and a half since the school closed down, and she's not changed a bit. I remember a few years ago, she wore a lion on her head."

Harry smiled alongside him, trying to picture a girl named Luna with a lion on her head. The image was enough to make him laugh out loud, and the sound echoed back at him in the emptiness of the place he was. Ignoring it, he listened to Draco talk until he left. He was becoming more aware of the things around him in Draco's absence; a consistent beeping, and more voices than he'd heard in a while - people outside, murmuring about different patients elsewhere, and visitors.

-------

Draco couldn't believe how much he'd come to enjoy the company of Potter in such a short time. He'd been going to the hospital for two months to 'volunteer' before he'd realized Potter was laying just a few doors away, motionless in a bed for almost a year. He'd always been so vivacious, so full of joie de vivre - even Draco, as much as he'd hated the boy, could admit that - that it had been painful to see him in the bed for a while. Now, it was part of his daily routine. Get out of class, and come to the hospital. Potter had become like his personal diary; he told the comatose man everything, everything he'd never dare breathe to anyone else. Harry Potter had been so much a part of his life for so long, that it was simply natural by this point, to seek him out.

It had been almost two months now; nearly a full year since Harry had first come to the hospital, beaten up and comatose. Two months, and Draco had been going to his bedside almost every night.

This time, he'd come during the day however; he and Blaise had fought over something stupid - he didn't even remember what now - and he'd needed to get away. Nodding to the nurses as he passed the main desk, he made his way to Harry's room. The decor was familiar; green and silver, like his old Slytherin house, and the flowers had been neatly arranged over by the sink so that they didn't overwhelm every available surface. A month had been long enough for Draco to deal with the sterile whiteness of the hospital room, and he'd used his own money for the plush green rugs, green wallpaper trimmed in silver, and mirror and pictures. Most of them were Muggle ordeals, waterfalls and such, but they were mechanized to look as though they were really moving, and if a switch was flipped, they made noises like running water, too. Draco loved water; it was his element, and he knew it. The somewhat large tabletop fountain had been his addition, as well. When the silence became unbearable, he'd charm the fountain on, or the pictures, and soak in the sounds of water falling.

Today was one of those days. He'd charmed the heart monitor silent, and turned on the fountain, and was simply sitting in the room, staring out the window. The sky was grey, and it matched his mood, but the rain was hovering in the air, as though waiting for a moment to strike. The door opened, startling Draco out of his reverie, and he was shocked to see Pansy Parkinson standing there, framed by the doorway.

"DRACO MALFOY!" she shrieked, horrified. "All this time - you've been coming here to see POTTY?"

Draco could hear the nurses rising from their station, preparing to do battle with the noisy wench who was interrupting their work, and he un-charmed the monitor so they wouldn't notice anything unusual. While Pansy was arguing with the nurses about whether or not she had a right to be there, Draco noticed something different. The steady beeping of the heart monitor had changed. Having gotten rid of Pansy, the nurse Maggie came into the room, and was checking the machines, looking excited. Draco moved back out of the way, and watched, making sure she wasn't doing anything bad. As a result, he was the first to notice the slight twitching of Harry's fingers. Pointing it out, the nurse looked even more excited, and shoo'd him out. He joined Pansy outside as the rain started to fall.

"Tell me, Draco, that this is the first time you've ever been here." she said coldly.

"I won't lie to you, Parkinson," he replied just as frostily, before pulling out a clove cigarette and lighting it. Her face turned several shades of white, then red.

"How could you betray us like that?!" she demanded. "How could you betray your family-"

"Don't bring my family into this!" Draco roared; smoke pouring from his nose and mouth, giving the impression of a dragon about to flame. "They deserted me long before I found Potter! He saved us ALL, Pansy. Every last one of us, and he landed forgotten in a Muggle hospital. MUGGLE!" He began pacing, warming to his subject. "The things he's given up, the life he's lead, the time he's spent in the hospital, all for the safety of US, who never even gave him the time of day. You should be on your knees in there begging for his forgiveness! Not standing there glaring at me like I'm a blood-traitor. We're not at Hogwarts anymore! There is no Slytherin!"

Pansy slapped him, cutting his next words off. "You think I don't know that? You've got nothing left, Drake! All your money, your lands, all of it was because of Voldemort, and you lost it because of him! You should HATE him! Why are you in there at his bed-side like a lost lover?"

"I'm going to make my own fortune, Pansy. I'm going to make the Malfoy name great on my own work, not because I'm a good ass-kisser."

Suddenly, the moment of heated anger was gone, and they were both laughing, so hard that they had to lean on one another or risk falling over. Maggie followed them out, smiling to see them getting along, and cleared her throat to get their attention, much the way Draco had so long ago when he'd first asked about Harry.

"Draco, Miss," she said, nodding to each of them. "Draco, there's someone who's been asking for you," she smiled, looking as though her kid had just won two or three Nobel prizes. Draco's eyes went perfectly round. "He's not," he breathed, and Pansy glared. Maggie nodded, and Draco dashed into the building.

"That's a man in love," Maggie commented, and Pansy made a gagging noise. "Love? Drake HATES Potter. Has ever since first year at school." Her tone suggested that Maggie was blind, stupid, out of her mind, or most likely all three.

"Well, this isn't first year, now is it, young lady?" Maggie asked, and suddenly Pansy felt as though she'd stepped on a baby snake.

"I don't think its love," she argued, but knew that it was weak; she'd seen Draco dash off just the same way Maggie had.

-------

Draco skidded to a halt just outside of the familiar room, and took time to catch his breath and straighten his hair. Walking in calmly, he was utterly shocked to see Harry sitting up in bed, rubbing the dust off his glasses, his wand poking up from under the blankets, tucked so close to his body it was almost under him.

Realizing that Harry was awake, and remembering the terms they'd parted ways on, Draco braced himself for a hex, or even one of the Unforgiveables. He was greeted instead with a pleasant, "Hullo Draco."

Raising his eyes to Harry's vibrant green ones, he felt his breath slowly sucked out of his body by a warm smile. "You don't look anything like I'd pictured," was the next stunning comment from the famous lips of Harry Potter.

"Gods, and Angels," Draco murmured, and hit his knees. Alarmed, Harry peered through his glasses down at him. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice husky from disuse.

"You're Harry Potter," he said stupidly, and received a grin in return.

"So you've told me," was the wry reply. "You're Draco M...Mal...?" He trailed off, looking confused. Draco's stomach hit his hips.

"You don't remember me?" This was... an interesting turn of events. Harry shook his head. "I don't remember anything from before you talking to me." Stomach having found a new home against his hips, Draco's heart took the hint and hit his throat.

"You...heard me?" All those days of whining and tears, happiness and fears, and Potter had…heard everything?

"Most of the time," Harry nodded, and Draco returned to his seat, still staring at Harry as though he'd suddenly started glowing.

"Harry... Let me start over. I'm Draco Malfoy." He offered his hand with a small smile.

Harry returned it broadly. "Harry Potter," he said. "Pleased to meet you."


~Finite~

Author's Note: This was started, forgotten, found, and finished XD Dedicated entirely to my friend Rae, (Aki-Hoshi), whether she likes it or not. Gift-fic, also, for her, so no touchy! Please leave a review if you like it. I live for reviews!!

EDIT: Beta’d by Aki-Hoshi herself XD ^______^ How incredibly awesome is that? Thank you for reading, and reviewing, and I’m sorry there isn’t an update yet on anything. I’m having a hectic few days here. I’ve not forgotten anything, though.

There seems to be a bit of confusion regarding the ‘brellum’ bit near the beginning. Being a Wizard, he’s unfamiliar with regular muggle words, such as ‘umbrella’ and had only heard the name of it in passing. Same thing with the possibly confusing, ‘oo is.’ He’s only half remembering the words “You wish,”