Returning Feet

Returning feet (02/07): I know you

Mark didn't move throughout the entire night; he had rejected to go out to dinner and a coffee Dolores had offered him. He just looked intently at the patient. The only thing he had done was to take off his contact lenses and change them for a pair of glasses.

She had been checking Malfoy's temperature regularly and she seem satisfied with his evolution.

"Were you close friends?"

That question surprised him; somebody thinking they were friends was shocking but, she knew nothing of his previous life and very little of the present. She knew he sometimes took sleeping pills and that he had a quite a good health so she didn't see him often as a patient. She used to see him at the bar, chatting with old men and women who told him old legends, that he used to transcribe as if they were ancient history. She also knew he had no friends -he avoided it in a polite but firm way-, and that nobody had ever come to visit him. He was alone. Extremely alone.

"No," Mark said without loosing sight of the bed, "not really."

"So, why are you having a sleepless night for someone...?" She had the feeling he wasn't listening, and she didn't bother finishing the sentence. For a second she was certain that that boy with the sad gaze could be dangerous if he intended to; and she decided not to leave the room when Malfoy wake up. He was her patient and therefore her responsibility.

***

At half past four Draco seemed to be conscious. He was still shivering, and his temperature had risen 2 ºC since he had been found. That was a good sign. Xana went near to take care of him.

His eyes tried to recognize what they were seeing, trying to focus the room. He looked very weak and when he saw her, he tried to grab her hand.

"Calm down," she told him, "you must rest."

She examined him carefully, checking his pulse, breathing, she sounded his chest... In the end she seemed satisfied. "You'll be all right." Then, without turning, she told Evans who had carefully kept himself away during the procedure, "I don't think it's a good idea you talking to him, he's very weak." She heard a noise at her back. Evans. The eyes of the blond boy gazed in the same direction she had turned trying to see to whom the word were spoken. He distinguished a shape, with fists tight, moving towards him. That figure was familiar to him, and when it was close enough he smirked wickedly when he recognize the glasses.

"Potter"

Dolores looked at Harry/Mark astonished; it was possible that Evans wasn't his real name, of course, but she had always resisted to believe the stories that said that he was a murderer on the run, someone protected by his government or a powerful wizard. She didn't know that, ironically, there was some truth in all those stories.

"Malfoy" Harry walked to the bed and told Xana, "Could you leave us by ourselves?"

Xana doubted, "No, Mark, I don't think that's a good idea." She stepped in between Draco and Harry who looked at her surprised.

"Don't...let him...hurt me." Malfoy's voice was smooth, uneven, and weak but very clear. There was no fear in it, and since the doctor had her back to him while facing Harry, Draco smiled at him with malice in his eyes.

"You're drained, Malfoy, and have nothing to attack me with."

Draco looked sideways, feeling his hands empty. "You stole my wand," he said.

This time Harry was the one who smirked. Xana tried unsuccessfully to recognize the boy who had arrived town three years ago. She didn't understand the conversation nor recognized the contestants. In this game of looks and short sentences there was more than a schoolmates meeting.

"Why have you come?" asked Harry though he thought he knew it.

Malfoy ignored him and raising a shivering hand towards Xana he asked, "is she muggle?" Of course, her clothes confirmed it like the devices he could see around him. But in his words there was a shroud threat that Harry recognized and couldn't bear when he heard, "she looks like a Weasley."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Harry launched at Draco willing to silence him, without thinking what he was doing, and he collided with Dolores.

"MARK!" She pushed him away ineffectively; though she had succeeded in positioning herself between them. "GET OUT!"

Malfoy's laughter, faint and mixed with shivers, rang in his ears. 'I'm giving him what he wants', he thought. That helped Harry to calm down. He moved away from Xana slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Go away. Get out of the room." And she pointed at the door.

His gaze moved from Xana to Malfoy. "No." His voice sounded serene though he wasn't composed inside. "I'll stay there", he said indicating the place he had occupied during the night, but without stepping away from Malfoy and Xana. "But I won't leave you alone with him."

Dolores doubted. Something odd was going on and she didn't know who was truly in danger, Malfoy, Mark or herself, as he had just hinted. "He's not dangerous. Look at his state, what can he do?"

"I don't trust him. And you shouldn't either." Harry stubbornly remained motionless, few inches from her and Malfoy.

"So, I should trust you, Potter?" In her voice there was a bitter pitch, a reproach.

Harry moved slightly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Trying to handle the situation carefully, he could not leave Malfoy alone with anybody, no matter how weak he seemed. He walked to the other side of the room, grabbed a chair and seated himself. "Harry, my name's Harry." And he looked at her forthrightly.

She doubted and in the end she nodded. "If you explode like that again, you're out."

Malfoy smirked.

***

The morning light was beginning to enter slowly through the window. The storm was over and now the sun could be seen at the horizon. Neither Harry nor Dolores had slept at all: she was watching over him and attending Malfoy; Harry was just watching over him, and Malfoy was half sleep, waking up, sleeping... They hadn't talked to each other again.

Xana had many questions: Who was Harry Potter? And Malfoy? What was their relationship? What did Muggle mean? She imagined that the wand the blond boy had mentioned was the wooden stick that Mark, or to be more precise Harry, had taken away.

"Harry, go home and have some sleep." Dolores broke the silence taking him by surprise. "You have to be tired."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," Harry answered still keeping an eye on Malfoy, who was sleep at that moment.

"But who do you think you are? He's going to do nothing, he's exhausted. And," she looked at the window, evaluating the situation. "I'm going to send him to the hospital. I think he's well, but I want him to be examined."

Harry was clearly in doubt. While thinking deeply, he stroked his hair with his hand, leaving it dishevelled.

"Why are you worried? What did he do?" That was a private question, and she knew it, but if there was any danger she should know it.

"Trust me," he said gazing at her gravely. "He's dangerous."

"Do you want me to trust you when you've been lying to us for three years? How much of what we know about you is true?"

"It's complicated." Harry stood and paced the room slowly, moving his legs carefully. Stretching and flexing them, using them after being immobile the whole night. "You wouldn't understand. You'd believe I'm crazy too."

"Ok, give me the wand then." Harry looked at her horrified.

"No! You don't know what you're asking for."

Harry sat again and spoke no more to her until the ambulance arrived and took Malfoy away. For a moment he expected the police to appear, though he had heard her on the phone asking for the ambulance and he knew she had said nothing about anybody being detained. But still he didn't know how Xana would react.

On the other side, she had wondered what to do, who she should trust, what was going on. In the end she decided that she should trust her feeling, because she hadn't enough information to decide.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Xana doubted he had brought the bicycle he used to ride.

"No... I'll walk. It's stopped raining." Harry looked hesitant at the sky and stepped away from Xana.

"Mark..." Harry turned when he heard the name he had used for so long. "You'll still be Mark Evans if you want to, I mean in town."

"Thanks," Harry said nodding, but while he was moving away he whispered, "I wish I could."