Just a random idea I had, I've written quite a bit on it, but I'm not sure where I want to head with it yet..I really like the way the characters have developed though-especially Dumbledore, I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've written him and he's not evil :O

Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to with Harry Potter

Chapter One!

It all started with a bit of unfortunate timing.

Harry and Malfoy had been racing to catch the snitch, the game was tied so it all came down to who was a split second faster. It turned out to be Harry who got slightly ahead of Malfoy and was only a hairsbreadth away from the snitch's wings, when his hip nudged Malfoy's broom a little to the left and at that speed it caused Malfoy to lose control and start to slip. His loss of balance threw Harry off balance, and the two of them began falling to the right while one broom went left and the other went straight.

Their quidditch robes tangled as they kicked and threw their arms around trying to grab anything, which ultimately made things worse and when they finally crashed to the ground, they lay in a broken tangled heap.


Harry awoke in a completely unfamiliar place, and stared around the room in confusion. He then registered the lack of feeling in his body and became extremely alarmed, and even more so when he discovered he couldn't move.

He could still scream though, and half a dozen people in white immediately came running into the room he was in. They crowded around him examining him carefully, one of the people lit his wand and waved it in front of Harry's face.

This was all too surreal.

Then the man began very gently explaining things to Harry, "Mr. Potter, I'm Dr. Devian Grey, I've been treating the injuries you sustained during your last quidditch match-do you remember what happened?"

"Am I paralyzed?" Harry asked instead.

"No, certainly not, we've given you several potions to keep you from feeling pain, and we've immobilized you to make sure you can't make any of your injuries worse. Think of it as an invisible cast or split," Dr. Grey told him. "Your fall caused you some very severe injuries, and you're lucky that you were transported here as quickly as you were."

That reminded Harry… "Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's," Dr. Grey replied. "We expect you to make a full recovery in another two weeks. I must say you do have poor timing," the man teased, "a group of your friends just left-this is probably the first time you've been alone in days, actually."

That didn't do anything to make Harry feel better, oddly enough.

Dr. Grey began prattling on about exactly which potions he had administered to Harry in order to both heal and temporarily paralyze him, it sounded like quite a complicated cocktail, but after a few moments he fell back asleep and the last thing he heard was: "You talking about those damn potions always puts him to sleep."

The next time Harry woke up, Dumbledore was sleeping on the chair next to his bed. He was still in the same room, but now had a completely different view of it as he was now laying on his side.

Without thinking Harry sat up and looked around-the room was stark white, but against the wall there were several tables which housed potions and medical equipment. After he noticed that, he realized he was now able to move-he must have healed up well enough to have them release him from the potions' literal hold.

Dumbledore still hadn't woken up, and Harry noticed his wand was resting on the bed next to him. Harry suddenly felt a bit overwhelmed and didn't really want to talk to Dumbledore, nor did he want any other sort of attention.

As quietly as possible, Harry slid off his hospital bed, and could feel the extreme weakness in his legs and body. He examined his clothing-the hospital garb was quite different from in the muggle world, he noticed immediately-he was clad in a loose short-sleeved white shirt, and loose white pants.

Harry tucked his wand into the elastic waistband of his white pants and draped the white shirt over it. Then he nimbly made his way over to the door on bare feet, he just needed a moment to think-without Dumbledore being there telling him to think things he didn't want to even acknowledge.

The hallways were mostly empty, and the few people passing didn't seem to care about his presence. Harry made it several feet away from his room, when his legs began to feel incredibly heavy, his head spun, and his heart pounded. Harry quickly located a bench and collapsed upon it-immediately noticing exactly how achy his entire body was.

Harry remembered the doctors telling him he'd been in an accident during the quidditch game, and he began replaying through the game-he couldn't remember much about it, he remembered the points kept going back and forth between Gryffindor and Slytherin and he and Malfoy had been bantering back and forth, but with no real malice for once. They'd been too distracted by trying to find the snitch and end the game.

Harry ducked his head and tried to remember more than that, and found he couldn't remember anything past the first hour-he couldn't remember how he'd gotten hurt.

Harry began to feel even more physically exhausted, and he stared down at the floor. He knew he should go back to his room and speak to Dumbledore, find out what exactly had happened, but Harry couldn't really bring himself to actually talk to the man. This all felt very surreal and Harry felt very off, though it was probably all the weakness in his body…Harry didn't want Dumbledore to notice it.

After a while, more people began passing by, none of them stopped to ask him where he should be. Harry enjoyed the fleeting moment of anonymity, but after a moment one of the people walking past stopped.

From the shoes, Harry could tell it was a woman, and Harry could only see the pale blue hem of her robe and the hem of the matching darker blue cloak. Then the woman turned to face him, she stood there for a moment so Harry looked up.

It took him several moments to place the familiar face, but when he realized who it was he quickly looked back down and covered his face with his hands-as some attempt to hide…Harry felt so weird and weak, this wasn't right. And he couldn't remember what happened to him.

Then the woman delicately sat down beside him, several inches between them, and she placed her arm very, very softly around his shoulders.

The unexpected motion of comfort, from Malfoy's mother of all people was jarring. Harry froze, and didn't dare move as his heart began pounding harder and making his head swim…

Harry slowly woke, his head was cushioned against something firm and warm and slightly uncomfortable.

The something then said, in a clean, feminine voice, "I'm sure he'll find his way back."

"I think he may need some help," A sleek, firm masculine voice replied, Harry knew that voice very well-Lucius Malfoy! Harry had fallen asleep on Narcissa Malfoy, he realized with a jolt.

He was comforted by a soft hand on his arm, which seemed to have only slightly more substance than air. Harry shuddered, his head swimming, and tried to lift himself off the aristocratic woman…and found he couldn't.

"And I thought Draco was in bad shape," Narcissa Malfoy said in clear amusement, "Lucius, darling, do help-he's too weak to move."

Lucius Malfoy snorted and did indeed help Harry off of his wife's shoulder. Lucius pulled Harry to his feet, which in turn gave out under him. This didn't seem to alarm Lucius in the slighted and he threw Harry's arm around his neck and braced Harry's body with his arm.

"Now do you understand why we must take him back," Lucius asked his wife. "I am amazed he slept through the alarms though."

Narcissa seemed to bristle and responded, "He was obviously quite exhausted."

"I will admit I am impressed you managed to leave your room in this condition," Lucius told Harry, as he pretty much hauled Harry back to his room, Narcissa walked next to them, giving Harry a soft smile whenever he dared to look at her.

He just knew Malfoy would tease him for the rest of his life for falling asleep on his mother. Harry felt himself begin to blush in embarrassment, "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you."

"It's no inconvenience," Narcissa assured him.

Lucius, then, swept Harry up so that he was carrying Harry like an invalid and turned into a room that Harry immediately recognized as being his-the large amount of red-headed individuals made that quickly apparent. What was also apparent was that no one was pleased to see him being carried by Lucius Malfoy, death eater extraordinaire.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I see you managed to find Harry," Dumbledore said genially, despite the hard glint in his eye.

"Indeed, he was asleep on a bench-he must have exhausted himself while looking for the kitchens or whatever it is adolescent males do," Lucius Malfoy replied, lying easily, and he carefully deposited Harry's weak body upon the bed. "It would serve you well, Mr. Potter, to note that St. Mungo's has a full arsenal of house elves at your disposal."

"I will," Harry replied, and his eyes strayed to Narcissa who was still smiling softly at him. He quickly averted his eyes and saw Ron who was staring at Harry like he'd joined Voldemort or something…Harry decided he'd rather look at Narcissa.

Then Harry figured he should say something, because he'd slept on Narcissa Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy had carried him back to his room.

"Thanks for your help," Harry said softly and he could feel shock, anger, and surprise well up in his guests.

Narcissa's smiled widened by just enough to make Harry flush down to his neck, and Lucius waved his hand as if it erased what had happened.

They then slipped from the room, closing the door behind them and Harry felt even more exhausted than before when yells sounded out around him.

Dumbledore quickly halted all the noise and turned his caring, concerned eyes onto Harry, "Are you quite all right, my dear boy?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "they didn't do anything to me, they just helped me back here."

"So what Mr. Malfoy said was the truth?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

"Yes," Harry replied staring down at his hands.

"May I please speak to Harry alone," Dumbledore asked, and Harry bristled at the lack of trust the man had in him. Everyone slowly cleared out, leaving him and Dumbledore alone.

"I know you well enough to tell when you're lying," Dumbledore said simply.

"I left," Harry replied, "but I got tired and couldn't come back, then Mrs. Malfoy found me and sat down next to me, but I got even more exhausted and couldn't even move so she had to get Mr. Malfoy to carry me back."

"Ah," Dumbledore said looking more amused than troubled, "Mr. Malfoy was the one who was lying about what happened."

Harry nodded.

"Don't worry," Dumbledore told him, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sure no one else noticed that there was drool on Mrs. Malfoy's shoulder."

Harry's flush got darker and his skin prickled uncomfortably as he shifted around in embarrassment.

"I must say I'm surprised by what happened," Dumbledore continued, "but you're probably more surprised than me."

"Can we stop talking about this," Harry asked, wishing he could just pass out again.

Dumbledore chuckled mirthfully, and Harry was glad someone found the situation funny.

"What are they doing here anyway?" Harry demanded.

Dumbledore's brow furrowed slightly, and he replied, "Visiting young Mr. Malfoy, certainly."

Harry blinked and asked, "What's Malfoy doing here?"

"Draco?" Dumbledore asked pointedly, and Harry realized there were three Malfoy's in attendance today, and nodded weakly. "You don't remember, then. You and Draco took quite a fall at the end of the quidditch match-do you remember the quidditch match?"

"Part of it," Harry replied.

"Ah, yes, well, we're not quite sure exactly what happened, but needless to say your balance was thrown off and both of you lost control of your brooms. It was all quite sudden and the two of you fell and landed together. We had to immediately contact mediwizards from St. Mungo's to come and separate the two of you without causing more damage."

The door opened and Dr. Grey and his team quickly bustled in.

Dr. Grey chided Harry on leaving his room in his condition and then-when it was discovered-for placing his wand in his waistband. His warning sounded the same Moody's warning to stop carrying his wand in his back pocket.

"We were quite worried that both you and Draco would die from your injuries," Dumbledore said after Dr. Grey finished his lecture.

"You are quite a lucky young man," Dr. Grey informed Harry. "You managed to not gain any brain damage in spite of the cranial fractures."

"What about Malfoy?" Harry demanded, and then quickly corrected himself, "Draco?"

"He was better off than you were," Dr. Grey replied, "Your stomach-" He lightly poked Harry's extremely sore abdomen, "Saved his head from any severe damage, so he just suffered from broomlash, deep tissue bruises, and several broken bones."

"What about me?" Harry asked, "What all's wrong with me?"

Dr. Grey tapped his chin thoughtfully with his wand, which made Harry want to lecture him about proper wand usage, and then replied, "We patched up your skull and head first, so they shouldn't bother you. You dislocated your right shoulder, broke your left hand, fracture several of your ribs, you have several bruised organs from where young Mr. Malfoy's head hit, and we had to entirely regrow your legs and feet-I'm quite surprised they held your weight long enough for you to leave your room."

That explained the weakness Harry had in his legs then.

"All in all, you're doing quite well," Dr. Grey told him. "You've been here for two weeks, and you're almost fully recovered. We simply need to build up your strength and wait for your organs to be able to function without the aid of potions."

Harry looked over at Dumbledore, who didn't seem fazed by what Dr. Grey just said, though Dumbledore had probably heard all of this several times before. Harry rubbed his eyes, and then froze. He dropped his hands and stared around the room.

"Where are my glasses?" Harry demanded quickly, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before-he could see without his glasses.

"Glasses?" Dr. Grey asked curiously, "You wear glasses?"

"Yes," Harry replied, he'd thought it was common knowledge, "but…"

"We did notice an abnormality in your eyes," Dr. Grey murmured thoughtfully, "I don't recall approving any eye repairs, but in emergency situations like yours, very often everyone repairs anything they can find wrong as quickly as possible."

"So, my eyes are…fixed?" Harry asked, slowly.

"If you can see better than you normally can, then it would be safe to assume," Dr. Grey replied with a smile. Then one of Dr. Grey's team-members came up with a tray covered in potions.

"You'll need to take all of the potions on the tray," Dr. Grey informed him, and then he went to confer with his team.

Harry stared at the huge number of potions on the tray, and felt dread.

"Harry," Dumbledore needled gently.

Harry lifted one of the potions and drank it, then washed it down with another-which tasted very foul. Harry gagged violently and shook his head.

Dr. Grey was scribbled on a plain bound book of parchments, frowning, as his team continued to talk to him.

Harry decided to take as many of the potions as quickly as possible, and wondered how they'd given him all these when he was unconscious.

"Mr. Potter, have you noticed any other odd symptoms," Dr. Grey asked him, "excluding your eyes?"

Harry coughed at the awful taste of one of the potions and noticed his legs were tingling, he looked down and his legs were twitching uncontrollably.

"One of the potions was a minor muscle stimulant for your legs, to improve your muscle tone," Dr. Grey explained, and Harry decided that it would be okay. "Was there anything else that concerned you?"

"Nothing really," Harry replied, "I mean, I feel a little weird, but nothing I can place my finger on."

Dr. Grey seemed to accept this and began writing again as he conferred with his team.

"Is there something specific you're wanting to know, Dr. Grey?" Dumbledore inquired.

"There may be," Dr. Grey replied, "we'll need to run a few tests, but it's certainly nothing to be alarmed with. We'll have definitive results in a couple of hours."

"What do you think may be wrong?"

"There may have been a harmless mix-up, one of your tests is showing a minor change in magical signature. We will test Mr. Malfoy and see if he's exhibiting the same symptoms, if so then that means there may have been a harmless exchange of blood during the accident."

Harry looked to Dumbledore to see what that meant, but Dumbledore merely looked pensive.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, since Dumbledore was no help.

"It's a rather common effect of shared injuries," Dr. Grey explained, "some magic is carried in blood and if blood is shared then it can lead to slight, temporary changes in magical ability. With the vast and serious nature of your injuries there were naturally many open wounds on both of you, and it would only make sense that-"

"Some of his blood is in my body?" Harry demanded, not sure how he felt about that.

"Possibly, but we'll need to perform a small test," Dr. Grey replied. "And if there was an exchange, then the effects will only be negligible and very short-lived."


Malfoy was released almost a week before Harry was, and on their way to pick him up, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy stopped by his room. Lucius stood by the door, looking uncomfortable as Narcissa sat down, very lightly, on the edge of Harry's bed. She gave him a small box, that Harry recognized as being the same as the ones she often sent her son at Hogwarts. It was vaguely horrifying to have this happen as Ron and Hermione were visiting.

She then asked him how he was improving, and whether or not Harry wanted Draco to send him assignments and notes.

As this short conversation went on, Ron became progressively more and more red and he looked like he wanted to explode. Hermione's brow was furrowed and she bit her lip furiously in confusion.

When the Malfoy's left, Ron did explode and Harry yelled back, "They just brought me back here when they found me!"

"Harry, why would she bring you a care package?" Hermione asked, sounding as if she didn't expect answer, but would dearly like one.

"I don't know!" Harry growled, and he stared down at the box in his lap, which had a small card with his name on it attached to a green ribbon-it was the same color as his eyes. The gift itself was wrapped in golden paper.

"Do you think you should open it?" Hermione asked as Ron quietly seethed.

"I don't know," Harry sighed and set it down on the bed next to him. "I'm so confused."

The three of them, after a while decided it would be best to wait until Dumbledore or someone else could check to see if the gift was safe…and of course, it was.

Narcissa sent cookies and candies, and a shiny gray scarf. It really was just a care package that any parent would send to their child, but Harry wasn't their child. Harry had only encountered them a couple of times before, and none of those times were friendly meetings.


That's it for now, let me know what you think!