Author's note: Hey, I'm back1 Sorry it took longer than expected to upload this, but at least you have something:) I would love reviews guys3
Draco looked at the folder on his desk in disbelief. Harry Potter was in St. Mungo's, and has been since a few weeks after the war ended. For those five years, Harry has been completely unresponsive to anyone who visited him. Not even the She-Weasel, whom Harry was dating back then, could bring him to reality. He was cognizant of his surroundings, the report said, he would eat and use the bathroom and go for walks, but he ignored people, and just stared at them until they would give up and leave.
The healers of St. Mungo's sent him this folder because they were trying to find anyone Harry might know who could help him. His mother has to go as well, but they must go separate like everyone else. Draco's appointment to see him was today, in precisely forty-five minutes. He did not feel like Harry deserved for Draco to dress up special for him just yet, because of the chance that Draco's visit does nothing to get the brunet to talk. So he sat, shuffling around with the file papers, rereading them over and over, until he had to leave.
He arrived five minutes before, so that he could get the safety check done and his wand confiscated for the duration of his time in Harry's room done and be on time to his appointment. Malfoys are never late, and Draco doesn't want to shirk that duty as the heir. As predicted, he walked into the hospital room of Harry James Potter at the exact time he was supposed to. The walls were white, as were the sheets, all the things in the bathroom, and much to Draco's dismay, Harry's outfit. The only thing different, was the mirror above the sink and the Gryffindor flag on the wall above the bed.
"No wonder why you won't talk," Draco muttered, "They've stuck you in here with hideously plain clothes and ridiculously under decorated room."
Harry turned around from his spot on the bed, looking straight at Draco with a sort of surprise on his face.
"Yes, Potter I am actually standing in the same room as you talking to you in a courteous manner," Draco said, with a sarcastically shocked tone to his voice.
Instead of being yelled at, Draco got silence. He walked over to the bed and sat down, looking Harry in the eyes as he looked back at Draco. They sat like this for a very long time, long enough that healers opened the door and told Draco that it wasn't working, and that he could leave.
"No, I'm not leaving. Not until he says something to me. It may take a long time, so just in case be prepared to send two meals to this room."Draco directed towards the healers, but still looking at Harry. "That's the problem here; you've provided him with the company of impatient Gryffindors, who leave when they can't stand the silence. I however, can wait patiently right here for weeks. I will not force him to speak, because it's his choice whether or not to talk to me. But he'll have to deal with my presence until he tells me to leave. And I doubt it'll be long before he can no longer tolerate me."
Something stirred in Harry's eyes, and Draco knew he was making a step in the right direction. If he actually got Potter to talk, he'd have a better chance of getting somewhere in the world, now that the Malfoy name holds almost no importance after Voldemort's defeat. Not to mention for gloating reasons.
Draco continued to study the small space, Harry on the bed watching with faint interest. The Slytherin grimaced as he walked the small area, making plans to have them decorate it better. He then made his way to examine the bathroom, which contained a mirrored medicine cabinet above the standing sink, toilet, and shower with a bath. There was a small rack next to the clean tub with a towel hanging on it, along with a hand towel on a holder beside the sink. It was very small, and Draco felt a pang of claustrophobia. He opened the cabinet to search the contents, finding a toothbrush and paste, hair brush, and unopened bars of soap. He closed the cabinet, content in looking at his reflection. He noted he would have to shave later, but doubted they would allow a weapon to be given to the blond without supervision.
He wondered if Potter had any paper, so he could make a list but it was not needed, as a healer came in with two trays of food. It looked disgusting of course, seeing as Draco was used to the finer foods and not 'mac n cheese'. Harry set his tray on the bed in front of him and Draco's was placed there as well, but there was definitely no room for the two of them.
"Excuse me, but I find this place inadequate. I'm lacking a bed, proper clothes, and a table to eat at. Malfoys do not dine on beds. The décor in here is also horrible and I ask you redecorate as such."Draco said, looking at his food in distaste. That problem would have to wait for later.
"Sorry, Mr. Malfoy but simply because you are 'visiting' here does not mean we cater to your wishes. I will get you a bed and clothing, but decoration in here is up to Mr. Potter, it's his room after all," The short witch replied, heading for the door.
"What about the table? You can't expect us to eat on bedroom furniture like animals!" Draco huffed, gesturing to the lone bed.
"Feel free to eat in the bathroom if you wish, then." With those parting words the Healer left, and Draco was steaming mad.
With a fury, Draco lifted his tray and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to balance his plate on his crossed legs. The tray was extremely hot though, and it fell on the floor as Draco stood to save his burning legs.
"Dammit all! What kind of hospital allows their food to get so hot it injures people?" Draco kicked the upturned tray as he stomped his way to the bathroom, slamming the door closed.