#healer!Draco #injured!Harry #pining
Draco hadn’t turned around yet. But he would have seen Harry’s name on the appointment list. He must have known who his next patient was. Harry wondered if Draco felt that same nervous excitement to see him - the clammy palms, the fidgeting, the sweat on the back of the neck and a heart that he could hear pounding in his ears.
Draco stood with his back to the door, reading over a floating chart. Harry took an awkward seat on the edge of the patients’ chair. Still, Draco made no sign he was aware of Harry’s presence. Nothing new there.
Harry cleared his throat and got straight to the point. “I accidentally cursed myself.”
Draco turned around then, his face showing no surprise at Harry Potter sitting in his Healer’s office. “You accidentally cursed yourself,” he repeated drily.
Harry nodded, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Yes.”
“With what curse?” Draco’s eyes were piercing and analytical, giving Harry the odd sensation that Draco already knew exactly what he was thinking. But he couldn’t. Or they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.
“I don’t know.”
Draco blinked back at Harry, drawing attention to his long pale lashes. Harry had a particular fondness for those bloody lashes. “How can you curse yourself and not know? What incantation did you use? What wand movement?”
Harry shrugged, dropping eye contact, lest he reveal his game too early. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t - “ Draco started to repeat, frustration leaking into his voice. “What are your symptoms? How has this mystery curse affected you?”
“I feel unwell,” Harry answered simply, playing with a loose thread on the knee of his trousers.
There was a silence in which Harry could feel Draco staring down at him, eyes boring into him. He didn’t dare look up. “You feel unwell,” Draco repeated, disbelief clear in his tone.
“Potter, get the fuck out of my practice.”
Harry looked up quickly - he hadn’t expected that. Although perhaps he should have. “You’re not going to cure me?”
“Of what?” Draco’s tone was clipped, impatient, his eyes narrowed. “You’re clearly not cursed. You don’t have any symptoms. I sense no dark magic in your presence. I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but I can assure you I don’t have the time to humour you. Good bye.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. “I do have one symptom.”
Draco sighed heavily, but his face lightened. “What is it?”
“An erratic heartbeat.”
“An erratic heartbeat,” Draco repeated - he was making a habit of doing that. “You’re probably just unfit. It’s not un-“
“So you’re not even going to check to make sure?” Harry interrupted, shuffling on his seat. This was so not how he wanted this to go down. “It could be serious.”
Draco crossed his arms. “It’s not serious.”
“And how do you know if you’re not going to check?” Harry held his breath. If we was thrown out of Draco’s office now, the humiliation will have all been for nothing.
“Fine - “ Harry exhaled - “Lie down.”
Harry shuffled up onto chair fully and laid back. He squirmed a little at the cold plastic covering.
“Stay still,” Draco said, a hand coming out to rest on Harry’s shoulder, holding him in place. With his other hand, he passed his wand over Harry’s chest. Harry tried not to make it obvious when a shiver ran through him - he wasn’t so sure it was to do with Draco’s wand and not his touch.
“It is a little faster than normal,” Draco said quietly, dropping his hand. "Do you often feel out of breath?” He asked, eyes flickering back up to Harry’s face.
“Only around you.”
Harry watched Draco’s pale eyelashes flutter. “I’m not following.”
It look all of Harry’s Gryffindor courage (and plenty of recklessness too) not to look away. “You leave me breathless.”
Harry waited for Draco’s reaction. Nothing at first - it took a second - and then: “Oh no. Oh no.” Draco backed away. “Are you telling me this was all an elaborate set up so you could use that cheesy pick-up line?”
Harry felt his heart drop. “Maybe,” he said quietly, getting to his feet. It had seemed like a great idea over Firewhiskey with Ron and Hermione the previous night.
“That’s pathetic, Potter. You could do so much better than that.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, his face to the floor as he shuffled to the exit. “I didn’t mean to - I’ll just - “
“Come back tomorrow,” Draco said from behind him - Harry froze, hope rising in his gut. "Just make sure you have some better material.”
Harry turned around slowly, a smile forming on his face. “If that’s what the doctor orders…”
“Healer,” Draco corrected. He was back to staring over his chart again. “I’ll make your follow-up appointment 5.30pm tomorrow. “ He looked up at Harry and winked. “It’s my last session. Dress sharp.”