Evan opened his eyes slowly. There was no light from which to determine the time of day, and he had no idea how long he had been there. He felt groggy and slow and did not like the sensation at all. Fucking sedatives. He almost preferred the pain. Pain didn't leave him feeling dull or sluggish.
At least he was awake enough this time to figure out exactly what was broken. It hurt to breathe, and the bandages around his chest limited that as much as the broken ribs them selves. The wrappings prevented him from being able to sit up, but he was able to turn his head slowly to look around the room, and more importantly, look at his hand. His hand was held together with pins, but it moved, barely.
"Stop moving your hand; you'll dislodge one of the pins, and they are the only things keeping your bones in place while the repair potion works."
Evan turned to locate the voice of the healer and scowled slightly. She was working at the table beside him, mixing and sorting potions. His wand was on the table beside her, next to him but out of reach. At least it wasn't broken.
"Where is my Mother?" He asked quietly.
The healer looked up from her work and met his eyes briefly, sympathy visible in her expression. Evan hated her for it, and let his eyes fall closed feigning exhaustion so that he would not have to see it. "She left just after her visit earlier, Evan."
It wasn't disappointment he was feeling. He wasn't surprised; she never did more than ascertain that he was still alive. There was no reason to expect that this time would be any different just because he had been admitted to the hospital. He was not even sure why he had asked the question in the first place. It had to be an aftereffect of the potions.
At least his mother had been here earlier when he first awoke, though since he had felt barely conscious it was more likely the healers had woken him. She had stood over the bed and looked him over with only the slightest frown on her face. Although the doctors probably had told her in detail about them, she made no comment at all on his injuries. She met his blue eyes steadily and spoke simply. "You will spend the next month with your Grandparents' where you can consider the consequences of your actions. They do not seem to have problems with your behavior."
It was just as well that he had been under the haze of magic and medications; it made the effort of replying too much and only this prevented him from causing himself further damage. He held her gaze though, glaring as much a possible through the haze of medications until she turned and stepped back, out of his limited line of vision and the potions put him back to sleep.
"Don't go back to sleep; you still have to take your medications."
"You put me to sleep before. I imagine you can wake me back up again if you really wanted to." Evan grumbled and turned his head away from the healer to face the wall.
"And I can administer these potions while you are unconscious, but it's easier if I don't have to."
Evan rolled his eyes. "When can I go home?" Not that he would actually be going home, obviously, but he wanted to know how long he was going to remain trapped in the hospital.
"Your accident was very severe, Evan. We want to keep you for another couple days to monitor the repairs and administer additional treatments."
Accident. Evan managed not to snort. There had been nothing accidental about it. He had come in the front door more than an hour late for dinner. He had Owled that he would be late, but not until shortly before dinner was supposed to start. His stepfather had met him at the door when he arrived, clearly already livid with Evan for the inconvenience he had put his mother through. If he was going to get beaten, it was not going to happen because he was late.
"Did you have to wait for your dinner, pig?" Evan asked with a smirk, deliberately trying to irritate his stepfather further. There was not much challenge in the undertaking. Truly, the fun of that game had run out years ago but Evan continued the game now merely to prove how easy it was to manipulate his stepfather's temper.
"You ungrateful, obnoxious sod. If it weren't for your mother, I would have you out on the street."
Evan laughed. "If it weren't for my mother's exceedingly bad taste, you wouldn't be living in my house, mudblood."
The first punch was fast, and caught Evan in the cheek. His stepfather's ring opened a gash below his eye, but Evan just laughed in his face. His stepfather swung again, but Evan was ready this time, and for the first time, he dodged the blow, reveling in the wild swing as his stepfather over-corrected. "You missed," Evan pointed out helpfully before he was thrown against the table in the hall. Evan flinched, breath knocked out of him, but immediately kicked back, catching his stepfather square in the stomach.
But he was seventeen now, and Evan could use magic legally. His idiotic stepfather was going to be in for a surprise.
Evan pushed away from the table, and pulled out his wand, hexing his stepfather. Evan's memory of the exact events got confused at this point. There were so many things that happened at once or in rapid succession. He straightened up to gloat at his stepfather, but there was flash of light. Evan was thrown back against the hall mirror which shattered behind him. He was able to cast another hex, followed immediately by a repulsion charm, before he felt his wand ripped from his hand by magic, though he did not hear Expelliarmus called. Then he was thrown back against the wall again, and his head snapped back hard. He felt it crack against the stone and remembered falling to the floor, fighting to hold consciousness that was rapidly slipping. He remembered feeling a burning, shooting pain in his hand. It felt as though it were in pieces. And then Evan lost the battle and fell unconscious, not waking until the healers forced him awake in the hospital.
"How much longer before they come out?" Evan indicated the pins in his hand with a slight nod.
The healer did not look up. "There was a lot of damage; it will probably be another day before we can pull out the pins, and then the bones will still be only partially healed. Drink this."
Evan did, mostly because she was pouring the liquid down his throat and if he did not, then he would choke on the foul concoction. He nearly did anyway just because of the horrible taste and thick, lumpy texture. The healer was not sympathetic.
"You really shouldn't have attempted that level of advanced magic while you are still in school."
Evan could not reply because of the fetid liquid, but he gave her the dirtiest look he could. Obviously she was referring to the tale that had been invented to explain his injuries. Apparently, he had been attempting an advanced spell or potion that blew back at him. Really, there was nothing advanced about a repelling charm, or even the hex that he had cast. So far as Evan could remember, most of the magic used was relatively elementary - it is hard to summon advanced spells in the middle of your first wizard duel while simultaneously trying to dodge fists.
But Evan would not repeat the same mistakes again. He would not waste his time with trivial hexes. Next time, he would kill the Mudblood.