"Then why are you in here, Malfoy?" Hermione questioned. Something in her calm tone made Harry think she'd put a hand on Ron's wand arm.
"You're the smart one, Granger," Draco came back. "I thought it would be obvious. I was sitting with him, and I was letting myself be seen sitting with him. Put that together with the fact that I'm definitely not in here to waste my time, and figure it out."
He walked out without a word to Harry.
"Merlin's balls, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, dragging over a chair for Hermione before he sat down in the one Draco had vacated. "What do you think he meant by all that?"
"Oh, what does he always mean?" Harry sighed. "It's some Slytherin plot. Listen, I have no idea why he'd come sniffing around; I'm just glad you guys stopped by. The thought that he was sitting there, right next to me, while I was asleep and helpless and blind, and without my wand?" He shivered. "I don't know why Pomfrey would let him. It's not exactly a secret that he'd just love a ticket straight to Voldemort's heart. What better way than through me?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with that Pomfrey?"
Before Ron could get too far into that topic, Hermione leaned close and spoke. "So, how are you feeling?"
"Oh, fine," Harry lied. She hadn't touched him, but she was near enough that she could, and Harry found that even the idea made him feel all jittery inside. He pushed back on his hands to give himself more room, but the pressure on his palms and arms made him wince.
"Harry..." she chided. "The truth."
He angled her a sheepish smile, and wished he could see her expression. Tone of voice only went so far in conveying emotion; he wondered just what nuances he was missing every time anybody spoke to him. "Oh, I'm sore," he admitted. "Really sore, all over, and I have an awful headache most of the time. Probably because of my eyes. Um, I don't know how much they told you? About what happened?"
"You don't have to talk about it, mate," Ron assured him, placing a small box in his palm. Even that made him shrink back a little. "Here, we brought you some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans."
Harry fumbled to open it, realizing as he felt the small candies that without his sight, he'd really have no idea what flavour to expect each time he popped one in his mouth. The idea sort of unnerved him, but he tried one anyway. Hmm, paint. The funny thing was, it wasn't half bad.
"Maybe he wants to talk," Hermione was chiding, sounding an awful lot like Remus. Harry didn't mind that. He missed Remus, and wondered how long he'd have to wait to see him. "Maybe he needs to get it all out of his system."
Harry really didn't, though he also didn't want to say as much. "Maybe he wants to hear what's been going on around here for the last three weeks," he said to distract them, though it occurred to him that that was a stupid question. It was a school, after all. "Um, are you guys missing classes to be here?"
"It's lunchtime," they said in unison, and then giggled. Harry could just imagine them holding hands, their fingers twining together.
He gave a little smile of his own, but it was tinged with sadness. "I don't know how I'm going to catch up on everything I missed," he admitted. "I mean, I didn't even know before, but now...?"
"Oh, you'll get your sight back," Hermione assured him. "And your magic, too."
Harry gulped. "Um, everybody knows, huh?"
"Well, it was sort of hard to miss," Ron explained. "Sorry to have to tell you this, but you made the front page again. Captured Death Eaters confirm that Boy-Who-Lived poses no more threat to You-Know-Who, something like that."
"Captured? Where?"
"Here. We all had to stay inside the castle for a few days after... er, Samhain, 'cause there were so many Death Eaters in the vicinity. Quidditch practice was even cancelled! Oh, shite, sorry!"
"Sorry," Harry blankly repeated, but Ron's telling silence cleared up the mystery. "You can mention Quidditch, Ron," he assured his friend. "And chess, and whatever else you like, even if I can't see it, all right? But tell me first about the Death Eaters."
"Not a whole lot to tell, since they couldn't get onto the castle grounds, or so we were told, anyway. Hermione here has her supicions. Anyway, they started going away after the Aurors began capturing them."
"Who'd they get?" Harry wanted to know, though his throat felt thick when he went on, "Lucius Malfoy?"
"Nah. Sorry. We sort of heard it was mostly Malfoy who um, well, you know, did those awful things to you."
"Sort of heard?" Harry questioned.
"Er, well," Harry could almost hear Ron blushing. "Even after that story came out, you were gone for days, and we were so worried, 'Mione and me. So the instant they got you in here, we came running. But then they kicked us out, so we sneaked back using your dad's old cloak and kind of eavesdropped."
"Kind of eavesdropped?" Harry echoed, laughing that time. Ah, did it feel good to laugh, even if it jarred his headache a bit. "I guess that's why the headmaster said he'd confiscated my cloak."
"Oh, he told us you'd get it back," Ron assured him.
"Still, I think it's horribly irresponsible of the Prophet to print that story," Hermione huffed.
"I think it's bloody magnificent," Harry declared, amazing them both. "You don't know what it's like having everybody always looking to you, expecting you to be this amazing hero just because Avada Kedavra bounced off your head when you were too young to remember."
"I think people have a few more reasons than that to look up to you, Harry," Hermione objected.
"Yeah, well, I could use the break," Harry decided. "Not that I can see them looking, anyway, but that won't last forever. I'll get my sight back."
"That's the spirit," Ron encouraged. "Buck up. Good job."
"This isn't positive thinking," Harry corrected him. "I know I should be panicking or freaking out or, well, something. I mean, darkness all around. It could be pretty scary... but I know, I just know I'll get my vision back. I've been..." He hesitated, but knew his friends wouldn't think he was pulling a Trelawney if he told them. Actually, some students at Hogwarts would, but not these two. "See, I've having dreams that come true, lately. Er, not all my dreams, but lots. I even dreamed this, that I'd be blind and in the hospital. But I also dreamed that I could see again, later, so it'll be okay." He frowned, remembering what else he'd dreamed. Things about Slytherins, and Malfoy, and hitting Ron.
"What is it?" Hermione pressed, seeing that frown.
"Oh, nothing," Harry excused, but before she could Harry... him again, he went on, "Hungry, I suppose. I mean, I slept through breakfast."
"You need the rest," Hermione acknowledged. He heard her leaning down towards him, but at the last moment some look on his face must have made her think twice about touching him. "Ron and I will tell Madame Pomfrey you want some food, all right?"
"Tell her to keep that Malfoy git out of my face," Harry growled. "He's been by here twice, now. It's getting pretty creepy."
"Twice when you were alone?" Ron pressed.
"No, the first time Dumbledore was with me," Harry remembered. He thought about mentioning the mysterious gift, but decided that it wasn't a good idea to set Ron off, again.
"Well, I'm sure he gave the little twit what-for," Ron approved, sounding like he was nodding vigorously.
"Dumbledore didn't get a chance to," Harry admitted. "I gave him what-for. I threw a bunch of stuff at him. Missed, but oh, well. Dumbledore did take points, though. From Malfoy, I mean."
Ron was building up a head of steam, and was far from through. "I should think so! Imagine him having the gall to come around here when it's his own bloody precious father who got you into this state. Well, him and Snape."