cursed
Harry was up briskly at 7:30, finding himself (excited? nervous?) to go to the Hospital Wing. The trek was mostly the same, not many were up in the morning yet, taking the Saturday to sleep in.
And when Harry approached the looming doors, he tried to ignore the lump in his throat strangely shaped like ‘Malfoy’ and he stepped through.
Inside was a much different scene than he had left last night, Pomfrey was running about from bed to bed, some distant groans could be heard, and there was a soft heat coming from her rooms, most likely from a fresh batch of healing potions being brewed.
“Mr. Potter!” Pomfrey sounded almost relieved to see him. “Come along now, Susie over there needs fresh wraps, chop chop!”
Harry wasted no time in getting started, he re-wrapped Susie's arm which had some horrific gashes that looked suspiciously like spider fangs, helped feed an older boy whos back was so screwed up he couldn’t even sit up, and spent a good 30 minutes trying to calm down an even smaller kid having a panic attack.
And that’s when Malfoy decided to get up. Harry was sitting in the little bed holding the child in his arms tightly, when he heard a swoosh of curtain, and there he was.
Ironically, he looked better than at the end of the Battle. Harry remembered cheeks hallowed in, skin so pale it looked almost transparent. But here, Malfoy looked like he was shining. His hair was lightly brushed forward, free and wild, much unlike the Malfoy Harry knew.
And his eyes, Harry noted, were the softest silver.
Only when Malfoy raised his hand to give him a small wave did Harry drop his eyes, flushing from embarrassment of being caught staring. But out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Malfoy confused at the sudden disconnect.
The little one, still in his arms, had quieted, so Harry laid them down onto the soft pillows, muttering an even softer “You’re welcome,” when they thanked him.
He drifted to the next bed, seeking that distracting feeling of helping someone, and making sure that someone was most definitely not a memory ridden Malfoy.
But a loud ‘bang!’ broke Harry out of his thought train, and he turned to see the Hospital Wing doors slam open, and a group of boys stepped through.
“See!” One exclaimed, quickly approaching the end of the wing. “I told you the bastard was here!”
They all started murmuring loudly together, when Madam Pomfrey swiftly stepped in front of them.
“Excuse me boys. This is a place of peace and quiet. So please take your rowdiness elsewhere.”
Harry doubted that would have any effect on the group, they looked determined.
“Peace? Here? Not when you have him! The death eater scum!” The tallest one shouted, pointing a brisk finger to Malfoy at the end of the row of beds.
“Yeah!” The group all seemed to shout together.
This was getting bad, Harry knew, the determined look on their faces weren’t the only thing that told him that, but each were grasping tightly to wands. Still, he simply stood and watched, blending into the background of the Wing.
“I will not have you disturb my patients young men. So please leave before I have you escorted,” Pomfrey tried to dissipate them, but still, the boys stood strong.
“No, he killed my friends. He's the reason most of these people are in here!” Another boy shouted to her, taking her words for nothing.
So together, they rushed past, surrounding Malfoys bed, quickly drawing wands.
Harry couldn’t see what was going on with the ruckus, and Pomfrey rushed to him.
“Quickly, find Minerva, I will do my best to calm this.”
He rushed out of the wing.
*
It was much later, the light barely creeping into Madam Pomfrey’s office.
“You have a gift Harry,” She said, taking a sip of her warm tea. “A healer in the making if I ever saw one.”
Harry gave her a soft smile, not the best at taking compliments.
“Do you enjoy it?”
Harry paused, his hand wrapped around a warm, but untouched, mug of his own tea.
“Yes.” He responded to her. “It's…nice. To be able to help people. Without the fear of hurting them I guess?”
Pomfrey nodded at his words.
“You’re a natural then.”
They settled into a gentle silence, and Harry looked down at the tea, watching it swirl, before blurting, “What happened to Malfoy? To make him forget?”
Pomfrey looked surprised at his words, her eyebrows raising, and a light smirk playing at her lips (though Pomfrey did not smirk, but Harry thought this was the closest she would get to it).
“Curious, are we?”
When Harry didn't respond, just stared at her, she sighed, and continued.
“At some point during the Battle, he was hit. With a barrage of unknown curses. The casters were inexperienced, that much was clear, and the stress of so many spells mixing and hitting him were too strong on his brain. It caused, how do I say this, a break if you will.”
She rested her tea upon the small table sitting between them.
“His memories were not erased, Mr. Potter, but clouded. He has no recollection of any of it, his family, school, even you. But he has a chance of recovery.”
“It is our goal here to help heal him. It is hard to not know what is in your brain.”
Harry cringed at this, memories of Voldemort quickly jumping through his mind which he swiftly shut down.
“Which brings me to this,” Pomfrey cleared her throat, crossing her arms on her lap.
“Mr. Malfoy is not safe out in the open right now, today made that much clear. He is too much of a target.”
“He is a death eater,” Harry prompted back, almost as if to remind her that some of it was justified.
“He is a boy. Same as you. A boy who needs healing.”
He shrunk at her words, knowing that it was the truth. Malfoy had saved him, multiple times, so perhaps he should be owed the thought of mercy.
“I have a private ward, supposed to be used for infectious and contagious conditions. I was going to move him there, for his protection.”
Harry looked at her, his eyebrows furrowing, “And you’re telling me, why?”
“He needs a caregiver of sorts. Someone to keep an eye on him.”
No, no, no, no, no, she was not asking him to watch after Malfoy. A Malfoy with no memory of him.
“There are two beds, a private bathroom. In between tasks here, you could stay there.”
Harry turned to the window that overlooked the wing. He thought.
Draco Malfoy was evil. He was a murderer, a death eater. But he supposed Pomfrey was right. He deserved healing just as much as anyone else. Maybe, just maybe, he could watch him. But just to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t revert back into, well, Malfoy. No other reason.
“Okay.” He whispered to her. “I’ll do it.”
She gave him a warm smile, and he cringed.
“Wonderful, I’ll get it set up.”