Rosekiller A-Z

H~ Hospital wing

The hospital wing was full, as it usually was after a quidditch match. Students were grouped in order of the severity of their injuries. Those whose injuries were simply and easily treatable were closest to the door, for a quick exit, and then, at the opposite side of the ward, was Barty.

Barty was lying in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his head. He had received the worst injury of the day, seriously hurting himself. He had fallen off his broomstick due to a strong wind and hit his head off one of the spectator stands. He had split his forehead against the wood. There was blood everywhere, and the match was called off.

Evan had come to visit him and give him something to keep himself busy with. As he approached, Barty called out.

"Who are you, blonde, blurry boy?" He asked. Evan noticed that his words were slurred.

"It's just me. Evan." He said softly, sitting on the chair beside the bed.

Barty smiled. "Theeere you are! There's my beautiful boyfriend!"

"You said I was blurry. Does Madam Pomfrey know your eyesight's blurry?" Evan asked worriedly. He wanted to make sure that Barty was alright.

"Oh yeaaaah~ she does. She said it'll be like that for a little while. It's fiiiine though– you're not even that blurry!" He giggled like a school girl. Evan looked at him with worry.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Barty?" Evan asked, holding up two fingers.

"Hhm..." Barty said, thinking. "Umm.... Orange!" He said confidently. He then began to laugh.

Evan got up slowly and walked to Madam Pomfrey. She was busy near the entrance of the infirmary, curing someone's broken wrist.

"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey? Would you mind telling me what's the matter with Barty? He's acting really strangely."

Madam Pomfrey stood up straight and faced him. Her eyebrows were furrowed until they suddenly relaxed.

"Ah yes, Mr Crouch." She said sternly. "He appears to have a concussion. It's nothing too serious, so there's nothing for you to worry about, dear."

"But–but he's acting strangely, and he says that everything is blurry." Evan spoke with concern.

Madam Pomfrey smiled reassuringly. "Don't fret, dear. Sometimes, after a concussion, people can have trouble thinking clearly, remembering things, or concentrating, or might act differently than normal. It's nothing to worry about." She placed a hand on Evan's shoulder. "The best thing you can do is be with him."

"A-Alright. Yeah, I'll do that." Evan said as he began to jog back to Barty's bed.
There, he found Barty messing with his bandages.

"Barty!" Evan exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing Barty's hand. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?!"

"They're annoying! And uncomfortable!" Barty groaned, squeezing at Evan's hand. Evan squeezed back.

"I know, but they're there for a reason. Madam Pomfrey will be around to change them soon. Just.. try not to pull at them, okay?"

Barty huffed. "Mhm."

Evan knew that Barty was uncomfortable in this situation. He hated being under supervision, and he hated having restricted movement. Despite being hyper and easily humoured, Evan knew that he was anxious.

"I brought you some books." He said hopefully, sitting back down.

Barty scoffed. "Yes, thank you. I'll definitely be able to read those, won't I?"

Evan rolled his eyes. "Hah, hah. I can read them to you if you want. They're just about quidditch, nothing too exciting."

Barty smiled. "I'd like that. Can you.. sit in the bed with me?"

"Sure." Evan complied, climbing into the bed beside Barty. Barty rested his head on Evan's arm. He listened carefully as Evan read to him, taking in every word that Evan said and how he said it.

When it came close to curfew, Evan began packing his things to go back. He threw his bag over his shoulder and began to leave.

"Evan?" Barty called out.

"Yeah, love?" Evan replied, half turning back to face his boyfriend.

"Thank you." He whispered, loud enough for Evan to hear.

Evan smiled sweetly.

"Anytime."

Word count: 672