Author's note at bottom.

Almost as soon as the two boys entered the ward, Madam Pomfrey was upon them.

"You two?" tutted the large older woman in white hospital robes, looking them over, "Why is it always you two?" Draco and Potter glanced at each other sheepishly. When she got no response, or perhaps, didn't wait long enough for one, she promptly got behind them and pushed them firmly towards a pair of beds. They knew better than to resist, and under her hawk-like glare, they obediently planted themselves down and awaited her assessment. Madam Pomfrey braced her hands on her hips.

"Quidditch injuries, I presume?" she guessed, judging from their robes. They nodded, and she peered at them gravely. "I would say the majority of students I get in here are coming from that blasted sport. Far too dangerous to be playing in schools if you ask me! But still… none of you listen." Madam Pomfrey looked at them with disapproval, as if daring them to say anything to negate her. "Well then, what happened? Go on! I don't have all day." Potter took the lead, and Draco was perfectly happy to allow him. He was sure that Madam Pomfrey, like practically everyone else in this school, preferred Potter.

"We had a crash landing during Quidditch trials today, Madam Pomfrey. I banged my head. It hurts pretty badly. And we think Malfoy broke his leg." Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"Be grateful it wasn't worse. Broken bones I can fix in five minutes, and Mr. Potter I'll have to see about your head. Though neither of you are leaving without a thorough checkup. Stay where you are. I have to check on the other patients and retrieve what I'll need for you boys. Stay." She repeated, pointing a finger at them so threateningly that they'd have been foolish to disobey.

"Well, looks like we're in good hands," Potter said with an amused smile, as she strode away. He pivoted himself to face Draco on the bed adjacent to his own, perched on its edge. Draco noticed how Potter's feet dangled an inch or so off the ground. Draco wasn't very tall himself, and it was always nice having the height advantage on someone for a change. He, like most people, he assumed, liked feeling dominant sometimes. Unsurprisingly, this particular train of thought led Draco down a very inappropriate track- one where dominance and height differences would come directly into play. He shook his head slightly, determined to clear his hormonally driven mind, as now was definitely not the time for this. But then Potter yawned, rubbing at his head again. He swung his legs up onto the bed, leaned back, and stretched.

Draco's mind promptly fried. He watched helplessly as the Gryffindor boy laid all the way down. He spread himself out, muscles tensing and releasing, and rolled around a bit, crumpling the bed sheets. Worst of all, he closed his eyes and made the most… delicious groaning sound, deep and throaty. You have got to be kidding me, Draco thought, as Potter finally came to a resting position, lying on his side with his head held in his hand. Then, he grinned at Draco, and the poor boy could've all but fainted. Hey, what better place to pass out than the infirmary, right? Right.

Does he have no idea what he does? Draco wondered desperately.

"Yup," he responded vaguely, in agreement with Potter's previous statement. His mind, meanwhile, was thoroughly engrossed with other things, such as curve of Potter's lips, the soft pale skin of his neck, the way his robes strained over his muscled chest. Draco hardly even noticed the look of puzzlement Potter was giving him.

"I've been here more times than I can remember," Potter said, without really being invested in what he was saying. Instead, he was staring into Draco's glazed-over eyes, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him. And now he tries to start a conversation, Draco marveled, exasperated. He attempted to pull himself back into the realm of the normal.

"I bet," he affirmed, truthfully, "I'm sure I can name a few times even. Don't suppose I sent you here once or twice…" Potter laughed shortly.

"Mmm…right back at you."

"But other times too…didn't you once get all the bones blasted out of your arm by Gilderoy Lockhart?" he recalled with a grin. Draco remembered the incident well. It was during a Slytherin verses Gryffindor Quidditch match their second year, actually Draco's first game ever as Slytherin's seeker. There had been a rogue bludger in that game too, and even with that bludger zooming non-stop at Potter the entire time, he had still managed to catch the snitch right out from under Draco's nose and win the game. Draco had gotten a lot of crap for that. He had insisted that the incident was due to nerves, rather than incompetence, but his pride was still irrevocably damaged afterwards. He'd been ashamed because he should have been better, should have beaten Potter and won the praise of his peers and the approval of his father. His only comfort at the time had been that Potter was, at that moment, probably even more miserable than he was. Dear Professor Lockhart had seen to that, and Draco could only sleep soundly knowing that his greatest rival was stuck in the infirmary, getting several dozen bones re-grown.

"Didn't you once get attacked by a hippogriff for acting like a pompous ass?" Potter countered, with a wicked grin. Draco colored. As much as he'd exaggerated the incident afterwards, his encounter with Buckbeak the Hippogriff remained somewhat traumatizing for him. Even now, he couldn't see a hippogriff, or even a picture of one, without flinching.

"Hey, I was thirteen, give me a break," he said weakly, "When I was thirteen, I was a pompous ass."

"So he admits it?" Potter exclaimed, with a grandiose triumphant air.

"You'll be glad to know I took something positive away from the experience."

"Oh yeah, what's that? Don't be a pompous ass?"

"Nope… Listen to instructions before approaching any and all potentially dangerous creatures."

"Ah…yes, very useful. Anything else?" Draco looked at Potter, whose eyes were glinting behind his trademark round glasses. Don't try and do everything Potter does, you'll only get hurt, Draco thought, thinking back. That had been a hard lesson to learn, and it had taken a lot longer than that day to learn it. In fact, he still struggled with it. Don't try to be like Potter, don't always try to follow him, or one-up him. You'll never be good enough, brave enough, strong enough. Not because Potter was the world's golden boy or because he was a spoiled obnoxious prat, as Draco liked to believe when he was younger, but because he was truly someone special. He had something in him that no one could ever fully comprehend, an inherent vitality and a strength that said he was going to be important, that he would change the world. Draco could now say, at least in his mind, in all seriousness, that Harry Potter was amazing.

"Hippogriffs don't like me?" Draco offered, with a shrug, "Hippogriffs like you?" Potter smiled, but it seemed more solemn than before. Draco wondered how long it had been before he responded. It was easy to lose track of time when he got lost in thought. Potter was staring at him in concentration. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just-" he hesitated, and then, with more resolve said, "I was just wondering if…"

"Draco?" a soft, inquisitive voice called out, cutting off whatever Potter had been about to say. Draco turned around abruptly, peering around the room for the source. He knew that voice…

Of course. He smiled warmly, eyes locking on a thin bespectacled brunette sitting on a bed near the back of the infirmary.

"Hey Juli!" he called to her across the room, with a wave, "What brings you here?"

Draco didn't see his favorite 4th year Ravenclaw as often as he'd have liked, what with their differing schedules and separate commitments and all, but he still considered her pretty much his best, and close to only, friend. So, he took every chance he could get to meet with her, catch up, laugh… feel normal and welcome for a change. Even now, with his leg broken and with Potter sprawled out on a bed before him, interrupted when he was about to say something potentially important, shockingly, Draco couldn't bring himself to feel any sort of animosity towards the girl.

"Hey to you too!" She laughed, "And, uh…Potions accident." She shrugged and held up her hands, which were covered in a spectacular array of large, purple boils. "Slughorn had the brilliant idea to do a bit of experimental potions. Of course, I get paired up with the boy who likes explosions and thinks Muggle ping-pong is the most incredible game in the world. You were completely right, Draco. Slughorn is a bit of an arse." She smiled slightly, and Draco thought back to an earlier conversation they'd had in the library, shortly after his and Potter's Amiradus debacle. Potter was still lying on the bed, watching the exchange with casual interest. Draco supposed he was surprised to discover two people who did not openly despise Draco within the course of a few hours. Well, it was always nice to prove someone wrong, and with Potter this was doubly true.

"A bit?" he laughed sympathetically, "And ouch. That sucks."

"Tell me about it. But…It's not as bad as it looks," Julianne said grudgingly, "Doesn't hurt, and hey, they're a nice color at least." She sighed. "Merlin, I hate Potions." Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, nice optimism anyway, Juli." The girl brightened slightly at the nickname.

"Oh, believe me, I try. I just don't always succeed. And why are you here?" She glanced him over quickly, trying to discern any visible ailments, of which there were few, so she looked relieved.

"Yeah, I think I broke my leg. Quidditch."

Julianne winced appreciatively, wrinkling her nose.

"Ah. Of course. I've been there. Not fun."

"Nope," Draco agreed, suddenly wishing for the moment Madam Pomfrey would return. Thinking about his leg made the pain undeniably worse. Julianne must have seen something of it in his face, because the gaze she shot him was astutely concerned.

"Are you okay, Draco?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"Everyone seems to be asking me that today," he mused, "But I'm fine. Broken bones are nothing that can't be fixed. No need to worry."

"I know. Doesn't mean they don't hurt," she paused, seemed to consider, "You know…I'm pretty good at pain-relief spells. I volunteer at St. Mungo's on weekends and holidays... I really want to do something in biomedical wizardry, so I guess I'm getting a head start."

"I didn't know that," Draco commented, somewhat disheartened by the reminder that he did not, in fact, know Julianne very well, not as much as he would have liked, at least not yet.

"Well, now you do," Julianne smiled slightly, "Anyway, I was going to say that I could do a charm on your leg to ease the pain until Madam Pomfrey can get to you."

"Oh-"

"I mean, if you want me to," she added quickly, "They're actually not hard at all to cast, and I thought it might help. But you don't have to, of course. It was just a suggestion-"

"Hey, hold on a second!" interrupted Draco, laughing, "No, no that's honestly really nice of you. Thanks." Julianne's reaction was immediate. She turned bright pink and looked down at her knees, her long dark hair falling over her eyes. She tried to hide a smile.

"It's no big deal," she said quietly. She looked up at him through her hair. "So…do you want me to then?" Draco was about to respond when Potter, who had been silent and anonymous the entire conversation, finally sat up. His bed creaked loudly with the sudden movement, and Draco turned around. Potter worked himself to lean against the headboard of the bed frame. He yawned, grimaced, and rubbed intolerantly at his head, pushing his hand through his unruly damp hair. Draco stopped and stared, transfixed. Though he was by no means glad that Potter was in pain (his times of Potter-typified sadism were long gone by now, if they had ever existed in actuality at all), Draco had to admit that pain became the boy. Potter would close his eyes and clench his strong jaw. The muscles in his arms would flex and he would throw back his neck. Draco couldn't take it all in, not even close, and the sounds Potter made - deep sighs and throaty moans- sent shivers up his back. And how he wanted to run his fingers through the boy's hair. Then, Potter spoke, and Draco had to snap himself back to his senses.

"You're not going to magic all the bones from his arm, are you?" He was looking past Draco, and Draco was momentarily confused, before his short-term memory loss resided and he put two and two together. Julianne was there. Draco was talking to her. And now Potter had joined the conversation. What had they been talking about again?

Draco tore his eyes away from Potter to look towards his friend. Julianne was startled, to say the least, at this sudden intervention. She peered a little around Draco, leaning forward, and then shot right back, gripping the mattress of the bed. Her eyes widened dramatically behind her glasses.

"Oh!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, with a short nervous laugh, "Hi! I didn't even see you…"

"He gets his kicks eavesdropping, don't you Potter?" Draco said cheekily, partially in an attempt to re-gain control over the situation. The prospect of his best friend and his…whatever Potter was…meeting and having a conversation was…daunting, to say the least. Potter smirked.

"Nice maturity there, Malfoy."

"What can I say? You walked right into that one," said Draco with an innocent smile. Potter rolled his eyes and turned back to Julianne, who had been eying their exchange in bewilderment.

"Sorry about that," Potter said to her, "So…you are…Malfoy's friend?" Julianne nodded.

"Yes. Er… I'm Julianne McLaulin. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Harry Potter," responded Harry Potter casually. Julianne nodded again vaguely, her mouth slightly ajar.

"Uh-huh."

Draco sighed. This kind of thing never failed to aggravate him, for a host of different reasons.

"Can we get past the whole 'oh my God you're Harry Potter' thing? For everyone's sake?" Both Julianne and Potter turned to frown at him, in a way that would've been comical to Draco if it hadn't been these people in particular frowning at him. "Please?" he entreated, in a softer tone.

"I'm sorry," Julianne admitted, to Potter, a moment after Draco spoke, "I didn't even think I was doing anything."

"You weren't," Potter insisted smoothly, "Believe me, I get that kind of thing all the time. I get a whole lot worse than that. So…no need to apologize." Potter ended his assertion with a friendly smile, clearly expecting that vein of conversation to end there, but his words only seemed to fuel Julianne's regret.

"No, really. I swear to Rowena I'm not a lunatic fan or one of those people who talks about you and spreads rumors and things. I probably seem like a total hypocrite saying that now, but I swear I'm not. It was…unfair of me, and I'm sorry. The last thing I want is to be part of that. All of it… must really get to you, doesn't it? How could it not?" Potter was clearly surprised. He had not been expecting all that. Draco saw something change in the boy's face as he looked at this eccentric relative stranger with new eyes.

"Sometimes," he said distantly, pensively, "I try not to let it." Julianne nodded understandingly.

"I think you do a better job of that than a lot of other people might have, in your position" she mused, but then seemed to consider her words, and quickly amended, "Not that I presume to know you or anything."She coughed indiscreetly, trying to cover the awkward moment. "So, what did you say before? Something about me casting a spell on Draco's leg?" Potter looked blank for an instant, but then recognition flashed in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"Oh, I was just joking."

"About?" Julianne asked curiously. Draco felt the need to intervene. As interesting as it was to listen to their conversation, and it had been, the notion of Julianne and Potter forgetting about him, as they seemed to be doing, turned his stomach dreadfully. A thousand what-if scenarios formed themselves in his head, none of them at all appealing to Draco. He spoke up, coolly and languidly, hoping to betray no sign of his bout of paranoia.

"Back in our second year, Potter accidently got the bones blasted out of his arm by Gilderoy Lockhart." To Draco's pleasure, Potter chimed in.

"I had to spend a night here having them re-grown. Definitely not fun."

"Doesn't sound like it. Hmm…Lockhart…Lockhart…right. My mum used to be a fan of his before that huge scandal about how he stole all his stories and swiped the memories of the witches and wizards who actually did the things he said he did. I remember reading about it in the Prophet a few years back. Didn't he completely lose his mind?"

"You read about it?" Potter questioned, "Don't you remember? I could never forget."

"Julianne's a fourth year. So she never had Lockhart," Draco offered, by way of explanation. Potter was surprised.

"Really?"

"I would've been nine or ten when you were in your second year," admitted Julianne, "I wouldn't have even gotten my letter yet."

"Oh, okay."

"I know a lot of older students though…." she added, and after a brief hesitation, "I'm friends with Ginny Weasley."

"Really?" Potter repeated, with twice the emphasis. Julianne read his reaction positively, and seemed glad to have a new facet of conversation to broach.

"Mmmhmm. Last year I got special permission from McGonagall to jump into a couple of classes early. So, Ginny and I were in the same Charms class. We've been pretty good friends ever since. So, um, you could say I've heard a lot about you. Like…more than the usual amount." It was fairly clear what she was implying, and Potter flushed, looking down at his hands, clenched tight in his lap.

"Right," Potter said. He sighed, "I wish she wouldn't tell people so much about that."

"Why's that?" Julianne inquired, cocking her head. Potter looked up at her, gaze guarded, and she hastily backtracked, "Sorry, none of my business. Forget I asked anything."

"Do me a favor and don't tell her I said that, won't you Julianne?" He was so solemn that it was all Julianne could do to nod her head and say,

"Sure. Yeah, of course."

"Thanks." He smiled just slightly and looked back down at his knotted hands. Draco felt a surge of mixed feelings go through him. Was there trouble in paradise? Was it too much to hope? And then again, should he feel guilty for harboring such hopes? Undoubtedly, it was ridiculous to be thinking that way, but he couldn't help it.

There were a few moments of relatively uncomfortable silence, none of them knowing what to say to each other, continually waiting, increasingly less patiently, for Madam Pomfrey to return. She was currently skimming around and through and under curtains and beds far more speedily than her age would seem to permit, constantly and actively tending to the packed ward of sick students. In comparison to many of those whom Draco caught a glimpse of through curtains and in dark back corners, he felt guilty for demanding any of Madam Pomfrey's time. All he had was a broken leg, and here he was spotting a kid who looked less like kid and more like an octopus. Without a doubt, the quick little old lady had more than enough to handle already, with a vast array of magical and otherwise induced ailments on her plate.

It was a testament to how far Draco had come that for once in his life he had no wish to flaunt his injury and therefore enjoy the perks that came with it, whether his "injury" was real, or fictional, or somewhere in between. After all, he had certainly done this in the past. He would take every opportunity to milk a malady for all it was worth and more. In complete honesty, Draco had hardly ever been injured at all, especially not in any serious way. Still, he loved the sympathy and the rewards that came with injury. Most of all, he loved being the center of attention- telling the epic story and being the brave, conquering hero, narrowly escaping death or worse at the hands of a mysterious and terrible threat. He relished all this, and, most ludicrously of all, felt an entitlement towards it. Only now did Draco realize how cowardly and pathetic he had been.

It shamed his pride to take a leaf from Potter's book, but there was really something to how Potter never let getting hurt get to him. And if anyone was prone to injury, it was Potter. Between school and Quidditch and old fights with Draco and being "The Chosen One", Potter got his ass kicked, and hard, on an almost daily basis. But Potter never complained, never exaggerated or even announced an injury. He stuck it out, hid it away, and never let it slow him down. That, in Draco's eyes, was bravery. Others might call Potter's behavior stubborn or reckless or dangerous, but for Draco, it was an ideal to try and aim for.

Fucking hell, his leg hurt. Julianne seemed to read his mind.

"Draco?" she asked gently, "Would you still want me to do the pain-relief charm on you? Because I can." He would've let her, since, despite himself, he was in pain, and he trusted her enough to be confident she wouldn't turn his leg into a boneless vegetable. But-

"That won't be necessary, Ms. McLaulin!"

Madam Pomfrey had come back at long last. She emerged from a dense supply closet on Julianne's side of the ward, carrying a basket stuffed full of various magical and medical remedies. She moved swiftly and systematically, shuffling over to Julianne's bedside. Draco felt himself relax instantly, knowing relief was on the horizon.

"I apologize for the hold-up," she said in a clipped, business-like tone, "Busy, busy afternoon. If you ask me, you children are far too careless and your professors are far too lenient with you. You just never learn, and I have to handle the repercussions." She proceeded to pull out from her basket a small plastic jar of a cream-like substance. Presently, she handed it over to Julianne and began to relay her instructions.

"Apply this generously to the affected areas twice a day. Morning and evening," Madam Pomfrey reached into her stores again and gave Julianne a roll of bandages. "And keep your hands wrapped up, to prevent the condition from spreading. They're enchanted to stick when applied, so do not attempt anything on them yourself. I do not want you ending up back here if I can avoid it. The problem should clear up in two to three weeks. If there are any complications- if the boils change color at all or start to exude foul odor-" Julianne pulled a face, "…certainly come right away to get that checked out. But that's not likely to happen. Alright, dear, you're free to go. And tell that Professor Slughorn that I'd like to have a word with him about his teaching methods!" And with that, Madam Pomfrey nodded, whirled around and continued down the ward towards Draco and Potter, leaving Julianne still sitting on her bed with a small smile, staring after the competent old lady with a mumbled thanks on her lips.

Before Draco knew it, Madam Pomfrey was standing directly in front of him. He snapped his head to her, startled.

"Alright," she said, "Can you lift your leg, dear? I'm going to need to get a closer look to access the damage." She looked at him pointedly, and he stammered his ascent.

Getting his leg up to rest on the bed was harder than he'd imagined however. He hadn't moved it in a while, so sudden simulation was causing pretty intense pain. Draco held his breath, gritted his teeth, and, with the help of his hands, managed to swing his left leg onto the sheets.

Ow, fucking, ow. Swinging was easier on the ascension, so much harder on the landing. When Madam Pomfrey swooped in and rather roughly moved to push his pants leg up, jostling his calf, Draco couldn't help but gasp from the ache. Reflexively, he hunched over, moving his hands to protect the source of the hurt. Potter, who had been watching silently, voiced his concern.

"You alright?" he asked gently. Draco shook his head, still wincing, and made himself sit back again.

"I'm fine. On the down side, I think I really did break my leg." Potter laughed abrasively.

"Oh, you think?"

Draco was about to offer a sarcastic retort when Madam Pomfrey loudly and warningly cleared her throat. Once again, he focused his attention on her. This shifting of focus was more difficult than one might think.

"What is your name, dear?" she asked, matter-of-factly.

"Draco Malfoy." She squinted her eyes slightly, nodding.

"Yes, yes that's right. The Malfoy boy…I've seen you here before. And of course I know you, Mr. Potter. You on the other hand I can't keep out of my ward!" Potter smiled charmingly.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I guess I'm a little accident-prone."

"You don't say?" she exclaimed, but returned her attention to Draco, "Now, Mr. Malfoy, you're going to need to keep still for a few minutes so I can do a quick spell-scan. Can you do that?" Draco nodded. He pushed himself back a couple of inches and readjusted, looking for a comfortable position. Then, he made his body still as he could and waited.

Madam Pomfrey placed her basket down on a bedside table and removed her wand, a short, sturdy maple, from a waist pocket of her white robes. She raised both hands, holding her wand completely vertical, and positioned it at the top of Draco's left thigh.

"Revulem interous," she muttered. She brought her hands together slowly, and then moved them quickly back to their original distance from each other- about a foot and a half. Upon doing so, a smooth, luminescent blue sheet shimmered in the space between her hands. Through it, amazingly, the nurse could see through Draco's skin and muscle and view his skeleton. Oh so slowly, carefully, Madam Pomfrey inched the sheet down Draco's leg, checking each segment for the problem. Finally, halfway down Draco's shin, she paused, frowning. Draco waited in anticipation for the verdict, and at last Madam Pomfrey nodded and made an elegant circular motion with her hands, severing the connection and reducing the blue screen to smoke.

"Well, you're lucky it wasn't worse," she said brusquely, "You've fractured your tibia. Badly. But for me it's a fairly simple fix. Your leg will most likely be sore for a few days, and I'll have to insist that you refrain from partaking in anything overly active, especially Quidditch, for the next couple of weeks. The spell can only go so far, and you have to allow your body time to heal itself. And you don't want to risk aggravating the bone. Do you understand me?" A nod. "Alright then. I won't waste any more time. A warning, this will not be very comfortable on your part."

"Can't be much worse than right now, can it?" Draco grimaced. She shot him a pointed look.

"Trust me, Mr. Malfoy, I know full well what I'm doing. Now, prepare yourself." She lifted her wand, poised it in the air.

"Be strong, Malfoy!" said Potter, with a teasing smile. Draco jerked his head towards the boy with a scowl.

"Oh, shut it!" he exclaimed. Potter just grinned more widely and gave Draco a sort of mock salute. Draco turned back to Madam Pomfrey, rolling his eyes, just as she spoke the incantation.

"Bomendio," she breathed, pointing her wand very stilly and specifically at the fractured area of Draco's leg. For a moment, Draco felt nothing, but then a great chill ran through his body and a shudder up his spine. Goosebumps sprang into being on his arms. His leg didn't look any less than normal, but Draco panicked because it felt frozen stiff, like ice. He couldn't move it and all he could feel was cold, a cold that grew more and more frigid until it burned, more like fire than ice.

Just when Draco was sure he couldn't take another second of it, the pain subsided, and all that was left was a general dull ache where the bone had been damaged. He slumped back onto the pillows with a relieved huff, closing his eyes a moment. He brought his hand up to his forehead, which still felt hot, his hair was plastered to his forehead by sweat.

"Alright, dear, you're finished. That should take care of it. But, please do stay and rest for a few minutes. It's a long way back to the Dungeons, after all, and you need to give the spellwork a little time to settle in." Draco nodded absently. As if he was planning on leaving…

Besides the fact that he never wanted to get up again after that ordeal, Potter was still there, and if anything was worth sticking around for, he was.

"You okay, Draco?" Draco was asked, for the millionth time that day. Languidly, Draco looked up from the pillow to see Julianne gazing down at him, her purple backpack slung over one shoulder. Oh, and there's that, he remembered.

"Fine. Again," he laughed, a bit impatiently, "Wasn't fun, but I'm good as new and I'm just going to lie down for a little while and maybe sleep for the next two months."

"If that were possible, I would join you," she said empathetically.

"Anything's possible if you believe, Julianne," he sighed exuberantly, nuzzling into his pillow. Draco stared past her to where Potter was sitting up on his bed, apparently relaying the full story of what happened to Madam Pomfrey, who was prodding at his head with her wand. Potter, wincing and talking though he was, saw Draco look over and paused a second to offer him a short smile. Draco grinned back, the flutter in his chest heightened by tiredness and perhaps the healing magic coursing through his veins.

"You don't believe that," Julianne stated, rather seriously. He looked back at her, met her eye, and realized what she'd said.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Why, do you?" he asked casually, though he was curious. She considered.

"I don't know. Sometimes." She shrugged slightly. Draco disapprovingly and exaggeratedly clucked his tongue at her.

"You don't know? How disappointing. I thought you had all the answers…" Although he was mostly joking, there was a hint of sincerity in his words.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Julianne smiled, "I'm honestly just as clueless as the rest of you."

"Then I guess there's no hope for the rest of us…" Draco sighed dramatically.

"No, don't think like that!" she chided, sounding worried, "You don't seriously think that way, do you?" Did he? Draco wasn't even sure what he was saying anymore.

"What can I say, Julianne? You are just so amazing the rest of the world pales in comparison."

Julianne smiled suddenly, caught off guard. She looked down at her feet, face flushed.

"Do you mean that?" she asked quietly. Though a little confused by her earnestness, Draco gave a grin. He shrugged.

"Sure," said Draco, and then he added, "You're my best friend." The words felt funny coming from Draco's mouth (after all, he'd never said them before, to anybody) but it was somehow very nice to say them. He'd been thinking it, and he meant it, so why not say it? Julianne McLaulin was his best friend, and he'd be damned if the world didn't know!

Her reaction was unprecedented, however. Her smile faltered, just for an instant, and something flashed in her eyes. Then, before a second had passed, she was jubilant again, like nothing had changed at all.

"Likewise," Julianne said, with a nod of her head, "I'm really glad we're friends, Draco…I like you a lot."

"I like you too, Juli."

"I really don't see you enough!" she exclaimed suddenly, his comment spurring her enthusiasm, "We should… meet up sometime? Do you want to?"

"Sure. Definitely. We'll..." Draco trailed off abruptly, his eye now caught by something else.

Sitting on the bed opposite Draco's, Potter's face was scrunched up with pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw tight. Madam Pomfrey was presently holding him in some sort of head-lock. Although he was unsure as to how that would help a head injury, Draco accepted this without further question. It was best not to argue with Madam Pomfrey.

"Draco?" Julianne called bemusedly, "Hellooo?"

"Oh, uh…we'll make plans. We'll figure something out," Draco finished lamely, his true attention elsewhere.

"Ow. Owwww." At Potter's audible show of pain, Julianne too looked towards him, following Draco's gaze.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, judging from your story you would do well to heed your friend Granger in the future." In response to their blank stares, she impatiently added, "You have a concussion," and rapped Potter once on the head with her wand. That time, Draco winced for him. So there it was, he thought, the fabled existence of that mysterious injury. Madam Pomfrey continued.

"Luckily, there is a simple magical cure for it. Understandably, concussions are more of a hazard for Muggles. In our world, they are so easily dealt with that they've become almost obsolete. Why, many wizard-born children have never even heard the word before! Dangerous or not, that kind of ignorance is simply careless." She shook her head frowningly, and Draco tried not to feel guilty. He'd never before considered how Muggles could know things he did not. It was a novel thought, and it frightened him a little, but less so than it would have scared him just a few months before.

"I know what concussions are," Potter said to her, as she rummaged again through her basket, "I lived with Muggles for ten years of my life."

Madam Pomfrey nodded surely.

"My point exactly- there is no such thing as wasted medical knowledge!"

Julianne, smiling, leaned back and whispered in Draco's ear.

"I think she's pretty admirable, actually."

Draco guffawed, "That's one word for it."

"…try to clear your head of all disruptive thoughts. Take deep breaths, and relax," Madam Pomfrey was saying, "Alright…cabeparose." She flicked her wand shortly once, and then sharply turned her wrist. With body perfectly still, Potter's head began to shake wildly, almost violently, so much so that it worried Draco. Then, as Madam Pomfrey withdrew her wand, Potter relaxed all at once. The shaking stopped immediately, and Potter's head flopped loosely back on his neck. The rest of his body followed, until he was lying back down on the wrinkled sheets, curled up on his side. Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Ow," Potter repeated, eyes still shut, "It felt like my brain was rattling inside my skull."

"That's perfectly normal," said Madam Pomfrey calmly, "The feeling will let up in a couple of minutes or so."

"Brilliant," Potter laughed incredulously.

"Think you'll survive it, Potter?" Draco asked, with a grin. Potter looked over at him.

"I think there's a pretty good chance," he said cheekily, "Disappointed?"

"Oh, without a doubt."

Julianne, who stood between their beds still, had her head cocked to one side, observing the boys' conversation. She seemed to be contemplating something.

"Wait," she spoke up suddenly, "Did you two come here together?"

Draco shot her a look. He was surprised that Julianne, intelligent as she was, had not picked up on that before this point. They had walked in together, were sitting on adjacent beds, and were both wearing dirty, damp Quidditch uniforms. It wasn't that difficult.

"Yeah," he said, confusedly, "I thought it was obvious. You seriously didn't know?"

She looked down, embarrassed.

"I had a lot on my mind," she said, somewhat defensively, "And I was distracted. I didn't see Harry until he started talking, and I didn't notice you guys walk in. I guess I just didn't put two and two together." She crossed her arms.

"It's okay," Draco said gently, "No big deal."

She shook her head.

"So…you two were at Quidditch? And Draco broke his leg, and Harry got a concussion. What happened?"

Draco and Potter glanced at each other quickly. A new idea seemed to occur to Julianne, and her brow furrowed.

"Hold on," she said anxiously, "You didn't….get into a fight did you? Is that how you both got hurt? Did you do this to each other?"

"Wait, what?" Potter asked, sitting up on his elbows, looking troubled.

"Were you two fighting?" she asked again, urgently, "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my bounds here, but I just know you guys didn't always get along, especially last year, Ginny's told me about it… that you were actually pretty notorious for not getting along, and I really really wouldn't want you to get hurt, and I hate it when people fight like that, after all there are so many better ways of resolving things, and-"

"Wait!" Draco interrupted, laughing a bit frantically, "If you'd just let me explain…you're overreacting." Julianne raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, waiting less-than-patiently for clarification. Potter seemed almost bitterly amused.

"Well, she's pretty excitable, isn't she?"

"You have no idea," Draco said to him. Madam Pomfrey, who had been teetering around the ward, tending to other patients, spoke up again as she approached them.

"Nobody will be getting excitable while I'm around, thank you kindly. I won't have you aggravating injuries." From the vast expanses of her basket (Draco was beginning to suspect a space-altering charm), she pulled out a small transparent jar containing a type of white shimmering cream. She opened the jar with a firm twist of the cap, thrust her hand into it, and promptly reached over and began to generously apply the cream to Potter's face. "For the cut," she offered, as by way of explanation. Potter nodded. After hardly a few seconds had passed, the deep slash began to heal and fade before Draco's eyes.

As he watched, it occurred to him that he hadn't seen his reflection once since the accident. He didn't even know if he had sustained something similar during the fall.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asked of no one in particular, "A cut or anything I mean?" Potter looked up, his eyes making a quick scan of Draco's face, and he was about to respond when Julianne beat him to it.

"Nothing as bad as Harry's," she said, "But you have a little scratch…right…there." Julianne lifted her hand tentatively to his cheek, bringing her fingertips up to brush against the light mark there. "Does that hurt?" she asked, her voice soft.

"No. Not really," Draco answered, and it didn't. Julianne dropped her hand and put it in the pocket of her robes, looking away. Potter watched on, his expression cool and composed.

"Don't worry," Madam Pomfrey said, "You're next." Draco tried to ignore the ominous sentiment of that announcement.

"You don't have to stick around," he said to Julianne, "I'm sure you have better things to do than watch me get cream rubbed into my face. I don't know how long it's going to be anyway…" Draco didn't exactly want her to go, but he saw no reason why she should stay, or why she would want to, or even why she'd been hanging out this long already. Plus, if she stayed any longer he could see things taking an awkward turn that he'd rather avoid.

"I don't mind," Julianne said, surprising him, "Besides, I'm not leaving until you tell me the full story here." Draco sighed.

"Okay, uh…it was nothing like that. Really. No fighting. It was just a Quidditch accident. A normal, ordinary Quidditch accident involving a bludger and a crash into the ground. It had nothing to do with me and Potter fighting, so…I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about."

"Oh."

"He's telling the truth," Potter added, "Malfoy and I are…we're friends now. No more fighting."

"That's right…we used to loathe each other, but now….we're just right chummy, aren't we, Potter?" Draco laughed weakly. He hesitated, "And, uh…don't believe everything Ginny says, alright?" He glanced nervously at Potter, waiting for a negative reaction, but Potter didn't protest. Julianne was nodding.

"Well, I think it's great that you guys managed to work out your differences. It's really great," she smiled, relieved and happy, "If only more people could do that…you know, get over petty rivalries like you two did? It's really great."

"Uh-huh," Draco said.

"Great," Potter repeated. There was a moment of silence before Madam Pomfrey exclaimed:

"Your turn, Mr. Malfoy!" Before he knew it, cold, moist fingers were on his face. Vigorously, they rubbed over his cheek, so that ow, owww, okay that did hurt. Plus, they smelled strange: an odd, not entirely pleasant odor from the cream. Madam Pomfrey's fingers were so close to his mouth that Draco could practically taste the stuff on them, and he was trying not to gag….but soon enough, it was over, and he reached his own hand up to his skin, which tingled as the ointment worked its way into his pores. He rubbed his thumb over the spot Julianne had identified, but any scratch that had been there was now gone, leaving only the greasy residue of the medicine behind. He wiped the film of it on his trousers, wishing he could wash his face. Well, he supposed, could have been worse.

"The look on your face right now is hilarious, Malfoy," Potter said laughingly. Draco glared at him half-heartedly.

"Alright, dears," Madam Pomfrey said, restoring the unpleasant cream to her basket, "You can go, all of you. In fact, I insist. Please leave now and don't come back for as long as you can help it." Her expression softened a little, "Try to be careful, alright? Good-day." Then, she turned and strode away, wiping a hand across her forehead and mumbling about this dangerous school and those reckless teenagers.

The three reckless teenagers grinned at each other.

"Do you suppose we should go, then?" Draco wondered aloud, half-kidding.

"I think she might try to kill us if we stay any longer," Potter noted, "So, yeah, probably a good idea."

"You may be right," Draco said with a sigh, "Regrettably." He heaved himself off of the hospital bed and watched as Potter followed his example. Potter gestured to the door with a slight flick of his head, flipping his unruly bangs across his forehead. Draco sighed and glanced down at his shoes. He is so infuriately cute.

"After you, oh great Chosen One," he said, looking up with a smirk.

"Prick," Potter responded, but he smiled.

"Are you coming, Juli?" Draco asked her. She started, and her eyes took a second to focus on him.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she said. Together, the three of them made their way to the hospital doors. Potter stopped to look back and direct a parting wave to Madam Pomfrey, who acknowledged their departure with a stiff nod. Draco grinned as Potter rolled his eyes endearingly, and then Potter pulled open the door by its brass handle and stepped back for the other two to pass. Draco shot him a look and allowed Julianne to go before him. She smiled at the gesture that he had hardly even noticed. After staring Potter down for another second or so, Draco finally reached the door frame. A hair's breadth away from the other boy, he smirked and said:

"You know, I can open doors for myself, Potter…" The dark haired boy took a shallow breath. He spoke quietly, with a cool air.

"It's called chivalry…Malfoy. You should try it." Draco cocked his head to the side.

"Ooo, very cheeky, Potter," he said, his volume matching Potter's so that he spoke almost confidentially, "Always were the Gryffindor…"

"I guess I am, aren't I?" Potter said carefully. Their faces were barely an inch apart. Draco felt his mind go blank as his eyes flickered from Potter's bright eyes to his pink lips. Potter held his gaze, and the moment seemed suspended in time.

Then, Draco gulped, took a deep breath, and walked through the door. Potter followed him, so closely behind that their shoulders brushed. The three of them stepped out into the corridor and stood quietly, a slightly awkward silence looming.

"So…" Potter said, "Where are you two headed now, you think?"

Draco and Julianne shot each other an uncomfortable glance.

"Well, uh…" stammered Julianne, glancing at her watch, "Potions is over by now, but I do have a class I should probably be getting back to..." She made a face as if contemplating something unpleasant.

"Oh, what class?" Potter asked.

"From the look on your face it's something pretty horrible," Draco added, laughing a little.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she admitted.

"That is horrible," Potter said, with a shudder.

"You'd certainly think so," noted Draco. Julianne seemed to be encouraged by their apparent interest.

"I'm honestly a bit terrified to show up to Professor Snape's class ten minutes late. What does he even do to someone who shows up ten minutes late?" Draco laughed.

"Be glad you're not a Gryffindor. Then you'd have an even smaller chance of coming out alive."

"Fantastic," she said numbly, "Well, I guess I'll be going then. And where are you guys going?"

"I'm just gonna go back to the common room, I think," Draco said, deciding as he said so. He could get some homework done and then make time to get down to the Room of Requirement. That was a project he was really desperate to get some headway on. His stomach turned over with dread.

"And I'll head back to the Quidditch pitch," Potter was saying, "See how Ginny and Ron are getting along. If they're done yet…"

"We're all going in separate directions," Julianne observed, "So I guess this is goodbye."

Draco nodded.

"Yeah. So, I'll see you soon, Juli, okay?" Draco lifted his hand to wave goodbye, smiling slightly, and thought to end it there, but Julianne leap into action. She ran straight into his arms and hugged him tight, her head resting on his shoulder and the edge of her glasses poking his chin. Draco was very much caught off guard. He didn't have much experience with this kind of thing, and he wasn't exactly comfortable with it, nor had he been expecting it, but he supposed… it was kind of nice. After staggering back a step, he accepted the hug and slunk his arms around the eager girl's waist.

"We'll make plans, right?" she said into his ear, sighing contentedly.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll make plans." After a second longer, she pulled away, grinning at him. She turned to Potter, who stood a few feet away, looking awkwardly off to the side.

"It was nice meeting you, Harry. Really…really nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too," he said amiably, "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Absolutely. So…goodbye then!". Julianne smiled and waved and, after a hesitant bounce on her heels, swooped in and gave Potter a hug as well, so quickly the boy hardly had time to react. She waved one more time and began to back away. "Bye Draco."

Julianne glanced at her watch. "Crap. Gotta run! See you!", and she bolted down the hallway, her brown hair flying behind her.

"Good luck!" Draco called after her.

She rounded a corner and she was gone, leaving Draco and Potter alone once more.

"Quite an interesting character, that girl."

"Ha. Tell me about it," Draco said with a smile. Potter paused uncertainly.

"Er…I don't mean to pry, but…do you have…something… going on with her?" Draco snapped his head up. Potter was looking down at the floor.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it just seemed…I don't-"

"Something…going on? With me and…Juli? No! No, of course not. I mean, we're just friends. Why would you think…?" Draco had the distinct feeling that the more he tried to assert this very valid point, the more it seemed like he was hiding something that he was most definitely not hiding. Well…certainly not the something that Potter was imagining, for reasons totally unprecedented to Draco.

"Okay, I get it," Potter said with a smirk, "It was stupid. Forget I asked."

"No, really, though, Potter," Draco stressed, "There is nothing going on between me and Julianne."

"I believe you."

"You do?" asked Draco dubiously.

"Yeah, I do. I understand where you're coming from. People always think me and Hermione are dating, and she's practically my sister. It creates a lot of unnecessary issues. So, I get it. No big deal." Draco visibly relaxed, relieved, and also a bit guilty, remembering the times in the past where he himself had made jibes about Potter and Granger being together in that way.

"Okay, good," he said, unable to meet Potter's eye, "Well, then… I guess we'd both better get going."

"Yeah," Potter said gruffly, "I'll… see you in Potions!"

"Yup."

"And…Malfoy?" Draco met his eyes. "Er…thanks, again, for everything." Draco felt a little jolt in his chest. He nodded with assumed smugness.

"Just know I still plan to kick your arse first Quidditch match, Potter. Nothing changes that." He smirked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Malfoy."

Not knowing what else to do, and hating goodbyes, Draco held out his hand to Potter, with a shrug as if to say 'see ya'. Potter looked down, perplexedly, at the other boy's outstretched hand. The moment prolonged itself and Draco was feeling increasingly awkward when Potter finally looked up, a peculiar smile on his face.

"What are we…closing a business deal?" he said.

"Excuse me?" Draco squinted at Potter.

"Making an unbreakable vow?" Draco lowered his hand.

"I honestly don't have an idea in hell what you're talking about, Potter," he said, speaking evenly. Potter shrugged.

"I mean, why do we have to be so formal about it?"

"How do you mean?" Draco asked, a little warily.

"Look. We've been friends for a little while now, right?" Draco raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. "Well, I feel… pretty comfortable around you. And you feel pretty comfortable around me as well, don't you?"

"…I suppose," Draco said, looking down. Potter's eyes widened a fraction, and then he smiled and said:

"Yes. Right. Exactly. Look," he said again, "Your friend, the girl-"

"Julianne," Draco supplied instinctually.

"Julianne," Potter repeated apologetically, "Julianne hardly knows me at all, and I hardly know her, and she…hugged me before she left. So…why must we be so formal?" Potter stared at Draco then as if this was supposed to have some sort of obvious meaning. Draco frowned.

"Still not getting that point of yours, Potter."

Potter sighed. He pushed a hand through his hair exasperatedly. Then, his eyes met Draco's, a look of hard determination set in them. Draco felt his pulse speed up and his heart beat frantically as Potter took a step towards him, quickly and resolutely. Potter leaned in and Draco's thoughts were in a panic, his body terrified into paralysis. The beautiful boy of Draco's waking dreams drew closer, and no words could form themselves on Draco's lips as Harry Potter reached forward and…

Embraced him.

Draco breath caught. Harry's hands snaked under Draco's arms, held still at his sides. They circled around Draco's waist, hands both strong and gentle, and came to rest near the small of his back, Harry's right hand holding on to his left wrist. Harry's fingertips lightly brushed Draco's back, and his head leaned into Draco's, wild dark hair tickling Draco's cheek as he held tight. They were so close that their entire torsos were touching.

Draco couldn't breathe, too overwhelmed to think, shocked stiff. It felt like a great electrical current was sweeping his body, setting his nerves on end. It was like fire, burning deep in Draco's chest and into his heart. And he couldn't get enough.

Through some miracle, he managed to take in some air through his flaming lungs, and through his scorching head, he regained thought process enough to react.

Slowly, Draco brought his arms up, and up, until they reached Harry's shoulders. He was almost afraid to touch him, but everything within him was screaming at him to do just that. So, Draco allowed his arms to lift up, to fold around Harry's shoulders and encircle his neck, brushing against the soft hair there. He let his forehead fall upon Harry's shoulder, nose pressed against the collar of his cloak. He breathed deeply, at last relaxing into the other boy's arms. He closed his eyes.

It was far worse than Draco had thought. Harry Potter was better than air, better than water, or food, or anything else Draco could think of. This was all he needed in the world….to be right here, in Harry's arms, for the rest of time.

It was a train wreck doomed to happen. A glorious addiction. A beautiful disease. He realized this, and was powerless to stop it.

After an indeterminable period of time, Harry began to let go, fingers trailing across Draco's skin as he pulled away. Draco, taking the cue, slowly and reluctantly lifted his chin, detached his arms, and started to back away. He opened his eyes at the last second to find Harry's usually steady gaze staring back at him, rapt with feeling. Draco almost wanted to say something, but he couldn't find any words even close to sufficient or appropriate.

"I-" Draco said. Suddenly, Potter's gaze broke. He looked down, his posture abruptly guarded. He swiped a hand frantically across his forehead and began to back away quickly, step by step until he was out of Draco's reach. Draco stared after him, uncomprehendingly.

"Well, bye then," Potter huffed, not looking at Draco, and before Draco could muster up a response, Harry was gone…sped off down the corridor and around the nearest corner he reached.

Draco stared after him, unsure what on earth or hell to feel. All he could think was: What the fuck just happened?

"Well," a voice from behind Draco made him jump violently and spin around, "Wasn't… that…just… touching."

Update! Yup yup! Well, I have no excuse besides life gets in the way. But, here you go and I hope you enjoy. This is the longest chapter I've ever written, so to those wanting longer chapters...haha...well, there you have it! And to everyone going "JUST LET THEM MAKE OUT ALREADY!": I understand completely where you're coming from, but these things have to happen organically. After getting this far, I'm not about to push it without it getting there first. And trust me, it's almost there. Like...I have it planned. I know how it's going to happen, and when it's going to happen (relatively soon). But, to hold you over until then, here's a nice angsty hug. I thank you endlessly for your support and all you've given me. YOU ARE AMAZING PEOPLE! As always, please let me know what you think about the chapter, because reviews are my galleons. Love and Drarry, Ariel 3