FicWad

The man tucked in a raincoat, briefcase in his hand was rushing through the street. The day started horribly. First, his alarm did not go off; then, he forgot the umbrella. Going back for it equaled being late on a job interview. He rushed through several blocks but was still late for the bus. Therefore, without anything else left to do, he ran through rainy streets, leaping over puddles. To cut short, he chose to pass the road where the long-forgotten shopping mall was located.

A tall blond young man stood in front of a distorted, filthy wall counter. He thoughtfully looked at an old, one-handed mannequin with only a green nylon apron. If our unlucky friend were not in such distress, he would have questioned: What dressed in a strange fashion young man was doing there? Why did he stand unmoved for so long? Why did he not notice the pouring rain? But as we have said, our friend was in a hurry, so he quickly passed the strange young man, disappearing around the corner.

Draco stood there, drowning deep in his thoughts, recalling the first day when he took the hospital's door by storm, holding unconscious Elvein, how Harry had to restrain him, not to beat Healers up, how Elvein's father arrived. Man, who must not have been older than 40 but looked like a grey old man. He walked leaning on his cane, tears descending his hollow cheeks. He approached Draco and kissed his hand. Then, they waited in silence, for a long, long time, till healers had not approached them with the news of Elvein's condition.

Four months later, Malfoy was entering the building for the last time. Today, Elvein was discharged from the hospital. He could not quite grasp what he felt. Happiness? Fear? Returning to his senses, he simply told the mannequin:

"Draco Malfoy."

The mannequin just nodded, and Malfoy stepped into the glass. Reception's racket replaced street noise. He passed through healers and flustered patients with a confident stride until he approached a familiar ward.

Through the open door, dazzling light was protruding. Adjusting his eyes to it, he saw Elvein's father, sitting on the chair, leaning his chin on his hands rested on a cane handle. He looked at his daughter with the warmest and most affectionate expression. Noticing Malfoy, he rose from his seat and shook his hand. Draco nodded, and his eyes froze on Elvein.

She wore a stainless white long-sleeved dress, buttoned all the way up to her chin. Shining long hair, as usually down, dancing with the slight touch of the air. She was more beautiful than ever before. Less pale, thin face and body have gained salubrity. Her pearl skin was glowing with morning light. And eyes. Those incredible green pools promised him obedience, speaking to him of calmness. Mighty walls which she had erected long ago, shielding her away with a facade of indifference, have melted away, leaving a thin layer of cracked porcelain, making it almost impossible not to see sadness shining through it. How was it even possible for a single person to carry so much sorrow inside? Her eyes were dry, but her soul was weeping.

Draco looked at her, drowned in mixed emotions. Who was the woman standing in front of him? He returned Elvein, but did she return to him? Will she ever? Healers assured him that the progress made was unbelievable, after what she had endured that he must be patient and give it time. Time. Something he could not afford anymore.

"Are you ready?"

The young woman nodded, took a small handbag, and left the room. Draco did not miss the fact, with how much distance she chose to pass his side. Elvein's father patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look and went back to his daughter.