Harry Potter Feinting Spells

His job did have some great perks Draco Malfoy had to admit as he sat in his office reading the newspaper. Who else got paid to wait for quidditch players to injure themselves? Being the team's personal healer meant he traveled with the team and kept their hours, but he was hardly as busy. There was plenty of time for perusing the news and drinking tea at his leisure. This morning he had caught up on two periodicals and had only had to tend to one broken wrist. The medi-room was well equipped and cleaned to even his perfecting standards. There was nothing for him to do but enjoy his day and wait for the next battered quidditch player to stumble through his door.

His contemplation was interrupted by the door bursting open and several men entering in a flurry. They were all exceedingly dirty and he grimaced as they left mud on his floor. There was a slight man held between several of them and they lowered the still form onto a bed in the infirmary. Looking as lost on the ground as any quidditch player can look; they stood to the side and looked at him expectantly. When no explanation was forthcoming, he was forced to rudely ask, "What happened?" He approached the table quickly and felt for a pulse in the man's neck. Without looking, he knew it had to be Potter. No one else on the team was that thin or had that unkempt hair. The pulse in his neck was strong and steady, so Draco began the indicative spells he would need to diagnose the patient. He vanished the mud crusted shirt so he could check for external injuries. The team was still silent, so he looked up at them, an impatient noise escaping him.

One of the men seemed to gather his wits and he stepped forward, Draco recognized him as the team keeper, Adams. "None of us know for sure. One minute he was up in the air, the next he seemed to faint and he fell off his broom. The ref cushioned his fall, but he's still unconscious." The man shrugged and looked at his teammates, "What's wrong with him?"

Draco snorted internally at the man's words. What was wrong with Potter? Everything. From his infernal hair to his perfect teeth and that smile he could never seem to keep to himself. He was unfailingly kind to everyone, even Draco himself. In fact, he had been the one to suggest Draco for the position of team healer when Draco had finished his training. There was no reason for anyone to be that nice. However, as Draco looked over the results of his scans, he realized that the man was in perfect health.

"He will recover" he said shortly, gesturing for the men to leave. They left with as much noise as they had come, the door closing with a snap behind them. With a sigh, Draco cast a cleaning charm on the floor before turning back to his patient. The man was unconscious, but his scans showed no injury or health problem that could have caused the man to fall unconscious. It almost looked as if he had been stunned, but the players would have mentioned if they had seen the man hit by a spell. With a sigh, Draco uttered a quiet Enervate and the man on the tables eyes fluttered open.

Large green eyes took in his surroundings and a smile split his face. He looked groggy and made no move to get up, but at least he was awake. Draco began testing his reflexes as professionally as possible and asked, "What is so funny that it has you smiling as you lay in a hospital?"

Potter simply smiled wider and closed his eyes, looking exhausted. "I knew I shouldn't have been flying. I felt faint this morning when I mounted up but I ignored it. I deserve to be here if I can't even listen to my own body when it tells me to slow down. Did I faint?" It was easier to look at Potter when his eyes were closed, Draco could study the planes of his face and the shadows beneath his eyes without being caught. "It seems that way" Draco replied simply. He pushed on the man's abdomen and the man groaned. "Does this hurt?" Draco asked quietly.

"I'm sore all over. Did I hit the ground? I don't feel any broken bones, but I've never been very good at healing."

Draco shook his head as he looked down at the man lying casually on the table in front of him. It was just like Potter to downplay falling off his broom and landing in the mud. The seeker was in Draco's office at least once a week with some new injury. To say he was bad at healing was an understatement. Potter couldn't seem to even heal the smallest of gashes left by a rogue player.

"They said the fall was cushioned, but your body still felt some of the impact it seems. Roll onto your stomach." Potters eyes shot open in surprise, but he complied with the healer's wishes. Malfoy went to work on the players stiff muscles, unsurprised that he had knots. His hands worked the muscles professionally, but his eyes drank in the sight of Potter's back. Saint the man might be, but his muscles left little wanting. A professional quidditch player was always fit, but somehow Potter's muscles were different to him. The man was so lean, that his muscles looked natural on him. The tone skin was tanned, with only a few small scars marring the smooth surface.

Potter groaned as he hit a particularly sore spot and Draco had to stop himself from pulling his hands away. It was much too easy to imagine Potter making that sound in another setting. "So Malfoy, what's the news?"

Draco related to him what had happened in the paper and the news he had received form his own mother. There was nothing terribly interesting, but he prattled on as he massaged, unsure of where else to take the conversation. Potter was so open and easy to talk to that Draco often felt speechless in his presence.

When Draco had first joined the team, he had not even known that Potter was a member and he was nervous when the man had first appeared in his office. But Potter had been civil and kind and hadn't said a word about their past differences. Draco had let it go at that. If Potter wanted to forget the past then Draco would be the first person to take him up on the offer. Now when Potter came in they chatted casually about their lives and the weather, frequently rehashing the recent news. It was pleasant and Draco felt no hostility in the Golden Boy's presence. They had a simple easy camaraderie and Draco was happy to keep it that way.

When Draco was finished massaging the man's back he retreated to the sink to wash his hands and clear his head. He could hear Potter sitting up, so he knew the man must be feeling better. He turned around just in time to see Potter pulling a new shirt from a pile on the shelf and pulling it over his head. His head appeared through the opening, his hair more wild than ever. He gave Draco a crooked grin as he went about cleaning the rest of his clothes and the table. He knew Draco liked his place clean and he never left a mess when he came. Draco set about tidying the rest of the room, though it hardly needed it. He needed something to do with his hands so he wouldn't stare at Potter.

"Are you dating anyone?" the question caught him off guard and he spun around. He was sure the shocked look on his face was hardly flattering and he quickly tried to regain his countenance. He turned back to the drawer he was rifling through. "Not currently, no. It's hard to maintain a relationship when I travel with the team."

Potter laughed, "I know what you mean. I gave up after my first season." He stopped rustling about, so Draco turned to face him. Potter was heading for the door, clearly ready to get out of Draco's way. He turned as he reached the door and looked back at Draco, "Thank you Malfoy, have a pleasant afternoon." was all he said as he left.

Draco stared at the door for several moments before shaking his head. He never understood Potter, so why try? He cast a quick cleaning charm on the table, despite the thoroughness that Potter had used when cleaning. With determination, he put the incident from his mind and sat back at his desk.

The next time the dark haired man was carried in unconscious, Draco knew better than to try and ask the players what had happened. A player grunted, "fainted" as he heaved the man onto the table and retreated back out onto the field. It was only practice, but they had a big game coming up. Potter was breathing easily and his pulse was strong, so Draco Enervated him as soon as the diagnostic spells were run. Potters eyes opened faster than they had the last time and he smiled up at Draco. "It happened again didn't it?" he asked as he sat up. Draco put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back onto the table ready to begin his exam. He gave a curt nod in response to Potter's question and set about easing the man's stiff muscles. When he was done he sat on a stool beside the bed and looked Potter with his best healer stare.

"What is causing these fainting spells Potter? Are you ill? Are you over exerting yourself? Sleeping well? Eating enough? It is unusual for a man in your health to be seen twice in one week for fainting in the air." Potter sat up and looked at him. Draco felt scrutinized as Potter took him in. The man was still shirtless, so Draco saw every muscle movement as he shrugged. His eyes dropped to the ground and he laughed. "I'm fine Malfoy, nothing to worry about. I'm just a bit tired is all." Draco's eyes narrowed at the lie, but he let it go. The man was healthy and he was allowed his secrets.

Draco stood to wash his hands, but Potter caught his wrist in one strong hand. "Why did you become a healer Malfoy?" he asked quietly. Draco was caught off guard. Most of the players avoided personal questions. He hesitated before answering, his eyes darting to his captive wrist. Potter did not seem to notice, so Draco answered honestly. "I wanted to help people. This seemed like the best way to do that." He quirked an eyebrow at Potter and the man instantly released his wrist, a blush spreading over his face and chest. "Any reason for the sudden interest?"

Potter laughed and shrugged into a shirt. "It's hardly sudden" he said as he walked out, waving a hand at Draco.

When Potter was carried in for the seventh time in three weeks, Draco began to worry. Potter was still claiming to be fine and his diagnostics showed nothing worrisome, but his continuing fainting was troubling to Draco. Potter never seemed worried when he awakened, but always turned the subject to Draco's life. He asked questions about Slytherin house, healer training, and Draco's personal interests. Without realizing it, Draco was talking more than he ever had in his life as he answered the probing questions. Potter always left with a flippant remark and a wave, never explaining his faintness or complaining about injuries.

This day was no different, he flipped onto his stomach as soon as his eyes opened, anticipating Draco's work on his muscles. Draco rolled his eyes and went to work, answering Potter's questions about his favorite restaurants and books. When they were done and Potter was dressing, Draco looked at Potter in consternation. "Are you still going to claim you have no idea what is happening to make you faint? I'm beginning to think you enjoy falling off your broom." Draco was joking, but Potter took a second too long to laugh at his joke. When he did laugh, his eyes were glued to the floor. Draco's eyes narrowed as Potter scratched the back of his head and shrugged, "A guy would have to be pretty desperate for your attention to make himself fall off a broom, don't you think?" He looked up smiling and headed for the door.

When the door had closed behind him, Draco sat down at his desk to think. A man would have to be pretty desperate to force himself to fall off a broom, but Draco knew all about desperation from his days as a death eater. Some things were worth fighting for, but what could Potter be forcing himself to faint for?

Draco finagled his way onto the field for their next practice, claiming he needed to observe Potter's flying to ascertain the man's health. Potter appeared healthy enough as he came out of the dressing room, his broom slung over a shoulder. He clasped hands with his fellow players in a friendly manner before getting in place for takeoff. He was off like a shot as the whistle blew, flying high above the other players as he searched for the snitch. Draco could hardly see the man's actions, but he seemed to be fiddling with something in his hand. Suddenly he was falling from his broom, his wand tumbling to the ground in its own slow fall. Draco slowed the man's fall with his own wand, rushing onto the field to care for the seeker. He cast a quick Levicorpus and took the man back to the sidelines; waving at the other players to continue their practice. They went back to work warily, eyeing the man on the ground.

The all too familiar Enervate woke the man and he sat up, looking around. "I've never come to outside before. Did someone catch me? I hardly feel hurt at all." Draco grunted and felt the man's pulse. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what was going on and he wanted to know why. Pulling himself and Potter up, he led the man to a bench on the sidelines and sat him down to perform further spells.

Potter stared at him silently as he worked, a content smile on his face. Draco tried to keep all emotion off of his own. Finally he was finished and he looked up into Potters brilliant eyes. "So Potter, what makes a man desperate enough to stun himself from two hundred feet up?"

Potter turned his head away, a smile dropping from his face. He rested a hand on Draco's knee briefly, "Sometimes you just need to get someone's attention." He stood and walked back onto the field without looking back.

That afternoon he sat in his office, contemplating Potter's words. Who didn't notice Potter? He was the savior of the wizarding world after all. He was plastered across half of the magazines sitting on Draco's desk. Was Potter trying to impress a team mate? As far as Draco knew all of his teammates were straight save Potter, so it was unlikely. He's trying to get your attention, you idiot, his mind told him but he pushed the thought aside. It was too much to hope that Potter found Draco as intriguing as Draco found him.

A sigh escaped his lips as the now familiar player came in carrying an unconscious Potter. Draco had expected that he would at least have a few days before he would see the man again, but here he was again. Adams waved a hand and went back out the door, leaving Draco to contemplate the man in front of him. What was Potter's game? Was Draco just a player in it?

He enervated Potter, the expected smile coming to his face as he came around. He laughed and rolled onto his stomach, obviously expecting his usual massage. Draco put his hands on the man's back but held them still. "Didn't get enough attention Potter?" he asked quietly. Potter's body was perfectly still beneath his hands. "I just wanted to make sure I had your undivided attention," he said finally. Draco gave his usual massage in silence, walking to his sink when he finished. He heard Potter arise and pull on a shirt. When Draco turned, Potter stood in the middle of the room looking lost for words. He turned to go with his regular wave, but stopped at Draco's words.

"Next time you could avoid the stunner and simply ask me to dinner."

He heard Potter laugh, but did not see him turn back. Draco's eyes were carefully looking at the floor, studying the familiar tile pattern and feeling as if he was far too exposed. He felt Potter's fingers on his chin, tipping his head back. The Potter's lips were on his and Draco ceased to think at all. The kiss was gentle, firm, and warm. Draco smiled into the kiss and eagerly responded. Potter pulled his head back with a laugh, "Dinner then." He said with finality as he pulled Draco in to kiss him again.

Thinking back on their first days as a couple, Draco had to laugh at his lovers antics. It took a lot of desperation to fall two hundred feet, hoping someone would cast a cushioning charm. It was so Potter, he thought to himself.

And he couldn't be sorry that it had taken multiple injuries for the boy to finally express his feelings. After all, Draco knew what desperation felt like and he would have braved much worse to get Harry Potter's attention.


End file.
