Quidditch Accidents

Harry's POV

Harry turned his broom around, coming to a swift stop in the air. Currently Angelina had the Quaffle and looked as if she was about to pass it to Katie. Harry was so caught up watching the game that he didn't even notice Draco Malfoy fly to a stop beside him.

"Have you prepared your losing speech yet, Potter?" Draco smirked as Harry jumped, startled by the sudden voice. "What's the matter, Potter? Weren't you paying attention?"

Harry rolled eyes. "It's you who should be paying attention." Harry shot a mocking smirk and sped off towards the other end of the pitch, having spotted a gold glint. He was glad to get away from Draco. Harry had been avoiding him for a while, trying to keep his bodily reactions to a minimum.

Harry heard the whoosh of a broom and turned his head to the side a little. It was Draco. 'Figures,' Harry thought, 'it's not like he could win the game with a different plan of action.'

Suddenly, an elbow jostled Harry, knocking Harry off balance.

Time seemed to slow down. The Quidditch posts loomed closer as Harry tried frantically to control his broom. But his Firebolt was going much to fast. Right before his head slammed into the metal pole, Harry caught a glimpse of wild and frightened, pale blue eyes.

Everyone went quiet and a loud crack could be heard throughout the crowd as Harry's head made contact with the pole.

And then everything went black.

-----*-----

Draco's POV

'Oh Merlin,' Draco thought, watching Harry's head collide with the Quidditch post, 'what have I done?'

After Harry's head collided, he continued falling, his legs and other various limbs hitting the pole on the way down. Draco did what any other person would have done.

"Holy fuck!" he yelled, and zoomed down after Harry, scooping him up onto his broom. Draco flew slowly, not wanting Harry to fly off his lap. Clutching Harry's body to his chest, Draco noticed that his head was bleeding. "Shit, shit, shit!" he muttered, landing on the pitch. Madame Pomfrey arrived within seconds.

"Oh, my dear boy," she murmured, gently touching the source of the blood. Madame Pomfrey glanced up at Draco. "Well? What are you standing there for, boy? Help me get Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing." Madame Pomfrey began to walk towards the castle.

Draco's eyes widened. "You mean...wait, I'm not carrying the kid," Draco shouted after her. She turned back and glared.

"Mr. Malfoy, I may not be a teacher, but I am a member of this staff. I am your elder and therefore, you do as I say. If you cannot find an easier way, I suggest you pick up Mr. Potter and follow me." She snapped, and kept walking.

"Rawr," Draco said, sounding like a cat. He gulped and glared at Harry's body, which was still lying against his chest. "Bloody hell, Potter," Draco muttered, lifting the boy. "How much do you weigh?"

Draco tried dragging Harry to the hospital wing, glaring at everyone.

Soon Professor Dumbledore was striding alongside Draco. "I believe it would be more effective to carry him, Mr. Malfoy. I have this odd sort of feeling that his feet dragging against the ground and getting stuck on rocks will bring more pain for Mr. Potter and more work for you," he suggested, his eyes twinkling.

Draco swore under his breath. The moment that old man suggested it, Harry's foot got stuck on a rock. 'Damn that old coot,' Draco thought angrily.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled and Draco glared. "I warned you, Mr. Malfoy." He clapped his hands together. "Well, I'll meet you in the Hospital Wing. Your pace is much to slow for me." And Dumbledore set off, going considerably faster than Draco.

Finally Draco had enough with stopping to untangle Harry's feet and picked the boy up, wrapping Harry's legs around his waist and supporting his head on his shoulder. Draco gulped again, trying to ignore the position they were currently in. In Slytherin, it was definitely no secret that Draco fancied Harry, but he would rather the rest of the school have no knowledge of it. This means, under no circumstances, could Draco drop Harry on the ground and shag him senseless. So he really needed to stop thinking about it.

By the time Draco reached the gates to the castle, he was panting. He tried to open the door, but the boy in his arms was in the way. Moving Harry's face to the side so he could see his hands, Draco fumbled with the doorknob for a moment or two, until the door opened.

Draco was surprised to see Professor Snape standing there, waiting for him.

"Mr. Malfoy, give the boy to me."

"But Madam -" Draco protested, automatically clutching Harry closer.

"I am quite aware of what Madame Pomfrey said!" Professor Snape snapped, holding his arms out for Harry. "I was only going to make this easier. However," he said, dropping his arms to his side, "if you would rather carry the boy up to the Hospital Wing, by all means, be my guest."

Draco glared and handed Harry to Professor Snape. "Fine, fine. Take the kid."

"Mobilicorpus," Snape said, pointing his wand at Harry.

Draco was surprised. He hadn't even seen him take out his wand. Inwardly Draco chuckled at the innuendo.

Draco jogged after Professor Snape, who was already quite a distance away, considering his age.

Finally, they reached the hospital wing, and Draco winced as he heard hysterical shouting.

"Professor Dumbledore, I told you that I never wanted another student in here as a result of a Quidditch injury! I warned you! I refuse to treat Mr. Potter unless his situation is critical."

"Now, now, Poppy. Calm down. I suspect Mr. Potter only has a cut on the head and a mild concussion."

At this moment, Professor Snape and Draco entered. But Madame Pomfrey took no notice. "Mild? Mild concussion? Might I remind you that his head cracked straight into a metal pole?"

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, glancing at Draco and Snape nervously. "Now is not the time, Poppy. Can you please take a look at Harry? It would be an awful shame to send him off to St. Mungo's."

"Not only that," Professor Snape cut in, "it would also cause a lot of unwanted publicity. Imagine this, Madame Pomfrey, 'Hogwart's Nurse Refuses to Treat the Boy Who Lived.' Could you handle that?"

Professor Dumbledore shot Snape a grateful look. "Exactly."

"Well...I suppose one more is alright, if only for Harry's sake. Well, come on, lay him on the bed."

Professor Snape took away the spell and laid Harry down on the bed.

Madame Pomfrey tutted and glared at all of them. "Get out! I will not tolerate all of you in here while I heal patients." She glanced at their faces.

Hermione and Ron choose this moment to rush in. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

Madame Pomfrey sighed and turned to the two distressed children. "I was just about to take a look at his injuries."

"Can we stay?" Hermione asked, Ron panting at her side.

Madame Pomfrey glanced at Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore may stay and one of you students may stay. I will not have a massive crowd watching."

Hermione and Ron looked towards each other. They seemed to have this weird...mental communication going on. Finally, Hermione sighed and said, "Ron's staying."

Draco decided it was time for him to pipe up. "Hey, what about me? I didn't agree on this."

Professor Dumbledore stared at Draco for a while, as if trying to read into his very soul. After a while, he looked at Ron. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but I would prefer it if Mr. Malfoy stays. We need his account on what happened."

Ron glared at Draco and stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Hermione gave Professor Dumbledore a sad look, and went after Ron.

Snape rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Dumbledore, whispering in his ear, "I hope you know what you're doing." And stalked away.

Professor Dumbledore watched him go, his eyes twinkling.

Madame Pomfrey hurried over to one of the cabinets, grabbing salve and bandages. "Move out of the way, move out of the way!" she snapped, pushing through Draco and Dumbledore. "I need to be able to reach my patient!"

When Harry's head was bandaged up, she lifted up his eyelids, peering into his eyes. "Yes, Headmaster, he has most likely got a concussion. A rather fierce one at that," she said, letting his eyelids shut again. She stood up straight and glanced at them. "He'll have one hell of a headache when he wakes up."

"Now," Madame Pomfrey said, glancing at the door, "Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger most likely want to visit Mr. Potter as well. I won't let them in for long, mind you, but they may stay for a while." She turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, be a dear and go tell them that they may come in."

Draco hesitated.

"I said now, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sighed and popped his head outside the door. "Pomfrey says you lot can come on in."

Ron and Hermione brushed past him, rushing to Harry's side. Hermione peered up at Pomfrey, eyes brimming with tears. "Is he alright?

Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth, but Draco beat her to it. "Don't be stupid, Granger. Of course, he's all right. It's only a concussion."

Hermione glared at him, furiously blinking away tears. "Next time I want your opinion, Malfoy, I'll let you know."

Ron glanced at Pomfrey. "When will he wake up?"

Madame Pomfrey shrugged. "I don't know exactly when, his body will have to do it in its own time. However, if he doesn't wake up within the week, I will have to wake up magically."

Ron sighed. "Oh...alright then."

"Poppy, if I may have a word with you...in your office?" Professor Dumbledore asked, gesturing towards his office.

"Certainly." They walked away, talking in low whispers.

Ron and Hermione stood in front of Draco for a while, arms crossed and glaring.

"So," Ron began, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Harry is our best friend! You damn better explain yourself," Ron snapped.

Hermione laid her hand on Ron's arm. "Ron, just let him be here. He's not hurting anyone," she scolded gently.

"Not hurting anyone?" Ron whispered furiously. "Him just being here is making me sick."

"Leave him alone, alright? Just ignore him."

Ron glared at Draco and pulled up a chair next to Harry's bed. "Fine. As long as he doesn't speak."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just forget it. I'll come back later."

Hermione shook her head and caught him by the arm before he could leave. "No, wait. Just...stay, okay? I have a feeling Harry would want you here."

"Why on earth would Harry want Malfoy here?" Ron spat, eyes narrowing.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "Just forget it, Ron. Maybe someday he'll let you know."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Granger?"

Hermione closed her eyes, as if she was weary. "I'm surprised at you, Malfoy. I expected this naivety from Ron, but not from you. Surely you noticed."

"You better tell me what you're talking about right now."

Hermione just shook her head. "Forget about it. Come on Ron, we better tell Ginny how Harry's doing. She's really worried."

Ron glared at Hermione. "Whatever. It's not like our best friend would want us here, right?"

"Oh, don't be such a moron, Ron. Let's just go." Hermione grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him out of the Hospital Wing.

Draco shook his head at their antics and sat down in the chair that Ron had pulled up for himself.

"Hey, Potter. I don't know what I'm doing here," Draco whispered. "I was so scared when your head hit that pole...then that Pomfrey Cow made me carry you all the way to the front gates. Luckily, I ran into Professor Snape and he did that blasted Mobilicorpus spell."

Draco sighed and stared at the frail boy in front of him.

"I'm sorry for bumping you up there. I just...I wanted to win so badly. I didn't think you would get hurt..." Draco trailed off and wiped a piece of hair out of Harry's face.

"I don't know why I'm being so sentimental. This isn't like me. But...it's just...I don't know what I would have done if you had...fatal injuries."

Draco rubbed his eyes with his fists and yawned. "Merlin, I need sleep." He glanced towards Pomfrey's office. Dumbledore was still in there, his hands waving enigmatically as he spoke.

Draco stood up and glanced back down at the bed. He was startled to see Harry's eyes open.

"Um, I um...I better go," Draco said stumbling over his words. He quickly walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Harry shocked and confused.

-----*-----

Harry's POV-ish

'Wait, what?' Harry thought with his mind in a daze. 'Why is he going?'

"Wait!" he tried to call, but Harry's voice came out in as a throaty croak.

Unfortunately, Madame Pomfrey heard it. She came rushing out of her office, Professor Dumbledore trailing behind her, still talking. Harry heard something Quidditch and not dangerous.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, "how are you feeling? Where'd Mr. Malfoy go?"

Harry winced as she laid her hand on his forehead. "Head hurts. Want to sleep. Malfoy disappeared," he managed to choke out.

Madame Pomfrey tutted and turned her head to speak to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, if you would please grab the Conquassatio Potion." Madame Pomfrey looked back down at Harry; a fond look had come over her face. "Professor Snape was practicing with it and was kind enough to give me a few. Bless his soul, he's such a dear."

Only when Madame Pomfrey had turned back to Dumbledore, did he dare to make a squicked face.

She poured the potion into a cup and gave it to Harry, ushering him to drink it. "Come along, Mr. Potter. I don't have all day to wait for you to take the potion."

Harry tentatively sipped the potion, and upon finding that it didn't taste quite bad, he gulped it down. However, he was not prepared for an aftertaste. "Blech!" He spat, sitting up. Harry was relieved that his head did not pound or spin when he sat, though. "Well, you could have warned me about the aftertaste," he said, handing the cup back to her. "But it worked."

"What did you expect, dear? All potions have one taste or another; none of them tastes particularly good." She patted Harry's head and pushed him back down on the bed. "I'm sure your friends will be by sometime after dinner. Now, Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey said, turning to face the old man, "as we discussed earlier, I am no longer treating students with Quidditch injuries. I have told you time after time how dangerous it is, and you wouldn't listen to me. Well, it's too late. Now get out of my Hospital Wing so my patient can rest."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Alright, Poppy, I'm leaving. And Harry, next time you play Quidditch, try to refrain from getting serious injuries."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Professor Dumbledore left, leaving Harry alone with Pomfrey. "Alright, my dear. I'm going to let you rest for a while. I'll be back in an hour or two to check your condition. After that, we'll see about letting you go."

Madame Pomfrey spoke to a few other people who were lying in beds, and then stepped back into her office, shutting the door behind her.

"Psst, Harry!"

Harry sat up and looked around. "Who said that?"

"It's me, Neville. Come here for a second!"

Harry walked over to a bed a few beds away. Sure enough, Neville was in bed, both his legs broken. "Sweet Merlin, Neville. What the hell happened to you?"

Neville blushed. "I was walking in the corridors and I tripped over Trevor and fell down the stairs. I just happened to hit a Slytherin and he cursed me with the Bat Bogey Spell."

"Oh, I'm sorry Neville. Your legs are going to heal soon, right?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Madame Pomfrey wants them in casts for a while, just in case. I'm probably going to be sitting in this bed for a long time."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Madame Pomfrey about to leave her office. "Shit, I gotta go." Harry jumped into his own bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that the blasted Quidditch game will be rescheduled to 3 weeks from now."

"3 weeks?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, 3 weeks. And, it seems that you are well enough to get up and walk over to Mr. Longbottom, so I expect you're well enough to leave. Just a quick run through and I'll let you go."

She performed some quick checking spells and let him go. Harry quickly left the hospital wing and wandered the halls for a while, before deciding it was time to go to the Great Hall.

Harry pushed open the doors and walked over to the Gryffindor table, taking his rightful seat between Ron and Hermione.

"Hullo," Harry greeted, reaching over for a chicken leg. "I'm so hungry."

Hermione and Ron just stared at him in shock. "Harry, you're not supposed to be awake yet. Madame Pomfrey said that it usually would take a couple of days."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not usual, though."

Ron nodded. "That's true. Well, eat up. I want to get to the common room and challenge Seamus to a friendly game of chess."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys."

They chatted for a while, but Harry wasn't really into the conversation. His traitor eyes kept slipping over to the Slytherin table. More specifically to a pureblood, blonde boy who was avoiding his eyes very successfully.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished, waving a hand in his face. "What on earth are you looking at?"

Harry flushed and shook his head. "Nothing...I'll see you guys back in the common room later."

Harry stood up and quickly fled the great hall, ignoring the whispers. He made his way to the kitchens and leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, Potter!" he muttered to himself, berating his feelings towards Draco. "He was only there in the hospital wing because he felt guilty for what he did, not because he wanted to be."

Harry heard footsteps and immediately turned his head to see who had followed him. "Well, well, if it isn't Potter. Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, you know," Draco taunted, his face mocking him. "Having scars on your forehead is another. And killing innocent boys who are better than you is the third."

Harry knew this was a dig at Cedric. Harry lunged for Draco, grabbed him by his tie and shoved him against the wall. "Shut. Up. Malfoy. Don't you dare talk about Cedric."

Draco was decent enough to look abashed. "Sorry, Potter," he mumbled.

"What was that, Malfoy? Speak up, I can't hear you!" Harry wasn't mad at Draco, he was mad at himself. He was mad because he enjoyed touching Draco. He was mad that he wanted more.

"I said, I'm sorry, Potter!" Draco shouted in Harry's ear. "I didn't know that you were deaf so I guess I'm going to have to talk to you like this from now on!" Draco continued talking in that loud voice.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever, Malfoy. I'm out of here."

"You're a confusing person, Harry," Draco said softly.

Harry turned around and looked at Draco, shocked. "I'm confusing? What about you? First, you push me off my fucking broom, then you speak so...kindly to me in the Hospital Wing, then you blame for the whole Cedric bit, which is rather over anyway, and now you call me by my first name! I don't know what you want!"

Draco glared at Harry. "You heard that stuff in the hospital wing? You were awake the whole blasted time?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I wasn't awake. But I heard it...It was like...in my brain or something. And I knew it was you talking. And I knew you meant it!"

Draco sighed. "Okay, see here's the part where we could both admit to ourselves that we like the other, neither do anything about, mope around the castle for a few weeks and then finally get up the courage to snog the other or we could skip straight towards the snogging part. What do you say?"

"Are you crazy, Malfoy? There's no way in hell I want to snog you," Harry lied.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I guess you're taking the first option. Because you're obviously lying and you know it. But I, apparently having more of that famous Gryffindor bravery than you, am taking the latter option."

Draco stepped closer to Harry and twisted him around so he was pinned against the wall. He pushed his body against Harry's and breathed on his neck. "You know you want this," he whispered, bringing his lips to Harry's.

Draco's lips touched Harry's, and Harry thought he could sing. Draco's lips were soft and moist against his, moving against his lips. The only other time he had felt this way was when he rode a broom for the first time. Which, coincidentally, was all Draco's fault, and so was this.

The Harry's hands were in Draco's hair, bringing his face closer, and deepening the kiss. Draco's tongue was suddenly asking for entrance, which Harry immediately gave.

Draco's tongue was exploring his mouth, finding all the hidden secrets. Draco grinned to himself when Harry gave a little mewl of pleasure as Draco ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth.

And finally, they separated, panting. "Um...err...uh..." Harry stuttered, unable to find words to say.

Draco chuckled. "Don't speak, Harry. Someone might find out that you're stupider than you look."

Harry glared and elbowed Draco in the ribs. "Don't speak, Draco. Someone might find out that you're gayer than you look."

Draco pouted. "I don't look gay."

"You look so gay."

"No I don't."

"Shut up, Draco."

"Fine."

Harry feigned a gasp. "What would the headlines say? ' Draco Malfoy, Heir To The Malfoy Fortune, Submits To The Boy Who Lived!' I should owl Rita Skeeter."

Draco glared. "You wouldn't dare."

"I know."