分卷阅读7（2 / 2）

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“You triggered a spell, a really old one. Malfoy managed to get you here, but nobody could work out why you weren’t waking up.”

Harry started at the name and tried to sit up. “Draco? Is he okay?”

Hermione gave him a speculative look, and nodded her head at the other side of the bed. Harry looked over, and found Draco sitting next to him. He was fast asleep, his head resting on the bed next to Harry’s hip, his right hand curled tightly around Harry’s left.

“He did all of the work, all I’ve done is sit here reading these completely useless books.” Hermione snapped the one on her lap shut, startling Harry. “When he hasn’t been here, he’s been in the Ministry library, trying to work out where you went and how we could bring you back.”

“Where I went?” Harry was confused; he’d been here in the hospital, hadn’t he?

Hermione nodded. “It was the spell, Harry. It’s very old, so old there aren’t many mentions of it anywhere. It’s called brevem conspectum, and as far as we could work out, it means a brief glimpse. Malfoy managed to work out that it transfers your conscience somewhere, but that’s as far as we got, I’m afraid.” She reached out and grabbed his wrist, and when Harry looked up he could see her brown eyes were filled with tears. “I’m so glad you came back. I really thought we might have lost you this time.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a slight squeeze of his hand. He turned, and watched as Draco slowly blinked his eyes open. He stared up at Harry, his grey eyes wide and open in a way Harry had only seen in his dream.

Or was it a dream?

“You’re awake,” Draco said, his voice rasping. He coughed, and Harry could see the shutters coming down, hiding his emotions behind the cool mask he presented to everyone else. A sharp pang sliced through Harry’s chest. Draco sat up properly and removed his hand, and Harry wanted to reach out and drag him in again. “I should let the two of you talk,” he said, standing up swiftly and moving towards the door.

“Don’t leave,” Harry called after him. Draco turned back and looked at him. “Please?”

Draco stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll just…get us a hot drink.” He left the room, and Harry missed him immediately.

Hermione looked at him consideringly for a moment, and then nodded to herself. She picked up a piece of parchment and a quill. “Now that you’re awake, maybe you can give us some insight as to where you were sent. It’s very important, others might stumble over—”

“It was the future,” Harry interrupted her, closing his eyes and trying to remember the exact feel of Draco’s skin against his, the sound of Lissa’s giggle, watching his entire family gathered together in celebration. “Or at least, it was a future.”

“The future? How can you be sure?” Her voice was hushed, but Harry could tell she was skeptical; Hermione had never put much stock in the area of Divination.

“Because you told me.” Harry smiled. “Or, you will tell me, in a few years from now.” He grinned and squeezed her wrist. “I don’t need to tell you any more, because I know you and I know you’ll research this to death—” she scoffed, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “And I know you’ll steer me in the right direction when the time comes.”

Hermione’s face crumpled slightly, and she threw herself out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Harry. “I am so glad you’re back,” she whispered into his neck.

“Me too.” He gave her a pat on the back and pushed her away slightly. When he looked up, Draco was standing in the doorway, two cups of tea in his hands. “Now go and tell Ron that I’m okay and get some sleep, you look knackered.”

Hermione laughed. “You’re so full of charm, but you’re right. I’ll bring Ron to see you a bit later.” She gathered up her books and stowed them away in her bag, smiling slightly at Draco as she passed him.