An Eventful Quidditch Match (HP) (Drarry) (COMPLETED)

chapter one

Harry's eyes were heavy. It would take so much effort to wrench them open, and Harry was just not up for it. He was warm. Under some blankets, it seemed. He felt like curling up here and going back to sleep, preferably forever. But he also had a sense of uneasiness. There were people around him. Figures watching over him with muttered talking. He didn't trust them enough to rest anymore. Not that he knew how long he'd been asleep in the first place. Or where he was. Furring his eyebrows,  he realized everything was a blur. He could recall basic things; how to talk, what blankets were, he lived on Earth. Things like that.

Harry opened slowly opened his eyes. Bright lights met them, and he squeezed them shut again. The presences around him shifted, their muttering stopping altogether for a moment before he heard one booming voice call: "Harry! You're awake!"

It was a girl's voice, but he didn't recognize it. Nor the name. Who was she talking to? Who's Harry?

He opened his eyes again and peered up at blurred but worried faces. The girl at the very end of his bed brightened when he opened his eyes. She had brown, bushy hair, but he couldn't make out any real detail of her. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out was a loud croak. He licked his dry lips and tried again. "Why.." his voice was husky and rough, "Is everything...mushy?"

"Oh, Harry! Your glasses!" A redheaded boy reached onto the nightstand beside him and grabbed a circular pair of glasses. They were old, and worse for wear. The boy held them out to Harry. Hesitantly, he reached out, pulling his hand back quickly to his chest when he got the glasses.

The redhead frowned.

Harry slid the glasses onto his face and squinted at the people around him. There were a lot of them, all looking at him with curious of worried expressions. Harry scanned each face, trying to find a hint of recognition, and failing. He had no idea who any of them were. Or why they were staring at him.

Moving his gaze from the people around him to the room he lay in. It was a hospital, he saw. Not that he could see much of it, considering the strangers hovering around him blocked most of his view.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment of silence, "but.... who are you all?"

Everyone around him started talking over one another- Harry began feeling very overstimulated. Afraid, too. He couldn't make out what anyone was saying. He didn't know if they were going to hurt him. Feeling his breath quicken, he squeezed his eyes shut. His chest constricted with each breath, his hand in a death grip on the blanket that covered him.

He wouldn't know what to call it until later, but Harry was having a panic attack.

The woman in nurse attire pressed her lips together. "Quiet!" she barked. "Look at what you're doing to Harry! Be quiet."

Everyone turned their eyes from each other back to Harry and they all silented, but the looks on their faces didn't waiver. Harry shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, trying to catch his breath. "Who's Harry?"

The nurse's frown deepened. The redhead boy, the one who had handed him his glasses earlier, Harry remembered, sputtered, "Y-you are, mate! Stop playing around!"

Harry bit his lip. His name was Harry? Come to think of it, Harry couldn't recall that he'd ever been called anything different, not that he could recall much at all. But he didn't know if he could trust this boy. He didn't know him at all. He could be lying.

"What do you remember, Harry?" the nurse asked.

Though he wasn't sure that was his actual name, he responded to it, "I dunno. I can't really remember anything." After looking at everyone's horrified expressions, he added a quiet, "Sorry." He searched his mind, trying to find something, anything, that stuck a bell. But he came up empty, his mind and empty bookshelf-

"Wait." Harry concentrated. He remembered something. Or someone. "Draco. Draco Malfoy. I know him." He bit his lip harder. Why was that slimly git the only thing he could remember?

The redhead and brunette shared a look, gaping at each other. A redhead girl, looking related to but younger than the redhead boy, seemed like she was about to cry. "You don't remember me? Us?"

The look of sadness she had made Harry nothing but uncomfortable. He didn't know her, and even though he tried to feel sympathetic, he couldn't. "No," he said shortly, "I don't."

Tears cascaded down the redhead girl's face and she stifled a sob. The boy, who Harry presumed to be her brother, ran a comforting hand on her back.

A blonde girl with a dreamy look seemed unaffected by this news. She just held a loose smile on her face while she looked at him. An awkward-looking brown-haired boy stood next to her, looking at her quizzedly. "Luna," the boy tried a whisper, but failed, as Harry heard the exchange, "Why aren't you freaking out? I'm busy freaking out, it seems like a reasonable reaction-"

"Oh, Neville," the girl, who Harry now knew as "Luna" hummed a response, "The Quizbits are a good sign. He'll be fine. It's not as if he hasn't gone through worse."

Feeling a hard bump on the back of his head, Harry grimaced at the pain. It hurt like hell. I've gone through worse than this? He thought with despair. He didn't like the fact that everyone else seemed to know more about him than he did. It unsettled him.

The nurse lady raised a wooden stick in the air, and Harry flinched back instinctually. "Please don't hit me." He muttered, his head down and his eyes screwed shut. These people could be dangerous. They would hurt him, he thought.

When the strike did not arrive, Harry raised his head to see everyone peering at him. He ran a hand through his hair. He missed Malfoy, he realized. Because at least then he knew what was coming. And knew it wasn't too dangerous. Just a silly old rivalry. But with these people...Harry just didn't know how they were going to hurt him, or if they have already.

"Can you please," his voice was weak but he pushed on, "let me talk to Malfoy?"