#jegulus are dads and alive bcs I say so <3

[breadcat-xx]

CW: mentions and slight descriptions of injuries

When Harry awakes, he’s not spooked by the soft beeping sounds or even how heavy his body feels. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know exactly where he is. The sharp, clean scent, the feeling of freshly washed linen against his skin. St. Mungos is just one of these places he instantly recognises. Maybe that ought to worry him.

When he finally does open his eyes, he notices a blurry silhouette in the corner of the room. Someone must’ve taken his glasses, because he can’t see anything in detail. Luckily, he doesn’t really need them to figure out who is keeping him company; the bright blonde hair gives it away.

“You’re an idiot.”

Harry would chuckle if his face didn’t hurt so damn much. Leave it to Malfoy to speak his mind. It’s quite refreshing. Harry has come to appreciate his brutal honesty. He doesn’t like being coddled anyway.

“Good morning to you too.” Harry croaks. Merlin, everything hurts. He groans and carefully lifts a hand to run it over his face. He’s battered and bruised, once again.

Malfoy sighs, and before Harry can figure out what exactly he’s up to, his glasses land on his face. Harry squints as his eyes adjust. The first thing he sees is Malfoy’s grey-blue gaze peering back at him. And then the scratches and bruises on his face. His eyes widen.

“You’re hurt.”

Malfoy’s face does something complicated then. His brows twitch and his lips press into a firm line.

“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.” He hisses after a beat of silence. “Are you taking the piss, Potter?”

Harry belatedly realises he might’ve made a mistake.

“Yes, I fell on my face and I’ve got a few bruises.” Malfoy snaps. “You, on the other hand, were catapulted seven meters into the air and landed on the pavement with a, dare I say, sickening crunch.”

He grimaces at the rather appalling description.

“Because of this, I had to floo your dads and explain to them that their son has, once again, put his life at stake for the greater good. The only reason why they’re not here hovering over your bed as well is because you’re not allowed any visitors yet.”

Harry frowns at that.

“What are you doing here then?”

“I bribed one of the mediwitches.”

“How very Slytherin of you, Malfoy.”

Harry hopes to get a laugh out of him, but fails. Honestly, Malfoy looks pretty upset. He sighs and runs his hands over his face, appearing absolutely exhausted.

“For a second, I truly thought you were dead.” He informs him simultaneously. “I saw you fall, Potter. Your limbs were twisted in all the wrong ways and your nose bled and—”

He stops himself, takes a deep breath.

Harry’s ended up at St. Mungos a dozen times by now. The fact that Malfoy reacts the way he does must mean he fucked up pretty badly. He can’t quite remember the last time he saw him get this emotional.

Before he can stop himself, he’s reaching for his hand, even though it hurts like hell. Malfoy freezes but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” He says and means it. “I never intended to scare you like that… I’m fine, I promise.”

Malfoy’s eyes soften for an instant, and Harry would swear his grip tightens around his hand. But then the moment passes, and Malfoy’s expression becomes impassive again.

“You don’t look fine.”

Harry smiles. “When do I ever?”

Draco tries hard to suppress a small smile, but this time he’s the one who fails.