Sep 26, 2009 05:04
He really didn’t know which was worse.
Being stuck in St. Mungo’s on a Friday night with curse burns, two broken ribs, and minor spell damage in his left leg was pretty galling in and of itself.
Then there was the fact that the knuckleheaded Aurors who’d broken up the duel had manhandled him, denied his demands to be taken to his family healer’s private surgery, and then grilled him like a common criminal as soon as the mediwitch had pumped him full of Skele-grow.
As if it were my fault that the pub’s window exploded.
And to top it all off McLaggen, that absolute wanker, had walked off with his nose and his bits still where they belonged. That prick wouldn’t know good breeding if it bit him in the arse…insolent…arrogant toerag…thank Salazar the Aurors are holding him overnight as well, the berk.
He gazed around the ward and let out a bored sigh. It was well past midnight and most of the room’s other occupants were asleep. His eye fell on the bronzed plaque above the door; he could just read the lettering in the soft glow from a nearby lamp.
Welcome To
The Xenophilius Lovegood Ward for Magical Mishaps!!
Before he could begin to contemplate the injustice of being stuck in a ward named after a total nutter, the doors at the far end of the room opened and a female healer stepped inside.
She approached his bed, face hidden behind a clipboard. When she lowered it, he realized his night of misery was far from over.
Brilliant…the icing on the sodding cake…
“Malfoy.” Her tone was clipped, as if she couldn’t bear to speak his name. “Still instigating idiotic brawls in public, I see.”
He stared stonily back at her. “Got it wrong, as usual Greengrass. I didn’t start it.”
She smirked disbelievingly at him.
“I didn’t,” he insisted, hating how needy he sounded.
“Doesn’t matter. You certainly finished it. Who was it this time…Finnigan? Weasley? Potter?” She paused and looked away, waving her wand and beginning to run a few diagnostic spells over his leg. Tense silence reigned.
“McClaggen,” he finally ground out.
This time, she flat out snorted before finishing her tests and marking his chart.
“Well, good news, I suppose…you’ll live.”
She turned on her heel and strode quickly towards the doors. Before he’d thought better of it, he called after her. “Az…”
She paused for a heartbeat, but didn’t look back
“You never did know when to walk away,” she spoke softly but he heard every word. She glanced back at him. “Luckily for me, I didn’t have that problem.” In the next breath, she’d pushed through the doors and was gone.
He stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep. He finally drifted off as the sun rose, a plan in mind and a smug smile on his face. You’re wrong Az. I’ll prove it. I do know when to walk away…and it’s most decidedly not now.
You’ll see.
drabble,
hp,
fanfic,
draco/astoria,
angst,
het,
canon fest