Author's Note: Umm, okay. I should probably be put in a mental institution for starting this story with every other story I have going on, in addition to all the other important things in my life right now, but I needed to do it. One of these days, I'm going to write a Harry/Ginny to prove to you all that they're my second favorite couple (under James/Lily, of course), but this is Harry/Draco, and in order for this story to work, you have to pretend Harry and Ginny were never together. It's the only non-canon thing about this story. Obviously, it's slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you've never read it, give it a try. :) Please review. Oh, and this takes place about a week after the end of the seventh book, not including the epilogue.

"Go get someone."

"Malfoy, can you hear us?"

"Go get someone! Who the bloody hell cares if he hears us?"

"Ron, calm down."

"Hermione," said Harry, speaking much more calmly than Ron had been, "can you go get someone?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, shooting Ron a dirty look before walking into the house.

"How long do you think he has been out here?" asked Ron.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Harry.

Harry sighed, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. It was so hot that Harry could not even begin to process why he, Ron, and Hermione had decided to come outside in the first place. Whatever the reason had been, it was soon forgotten when they saw Draco Malfoy, a bloody, bruised, and broken mess laying in the yard.

Ron stood up. "Hey, maybe we can go find a lake and—"

"We're not throwing him in," said Harry.

"I was going to say take a dip because it's hot," said Ron.

Harry gave him a look. "Okay, that was on my mind as well."

Harry laughed. "I had to admit, it was on mine for a minute too."

Hearing his name, Harry looked up to see Mrs. Weasley running out the door, Hermione and Ginny trailing behind. They were each holding a bucket.

"Harry," she said again, getting closer. "What's happened?"

"We don't exactly—"

But Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to care what they had to say about it. She kneeled down beside Draco, dropping her bucket next to her, and taking out a wet cloth.

"Is he conscious?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Uh…"

"Just give him a good kick," said Ginny. To prove she meant business, Ginny administered the kick herself, getting Draco right below his ribs.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Draco groaned, but he didn't move. Mrs. Weasley pressed the wet washcloth to his cheek, wiping off the dried blood. Harry looked away.

"See?" said Ginny. "All it took."

Harry and Ron were afraid to laugh, considering Mrs. Weasley was watching them carefully. "He just appeared here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed. "We didn't hurt him. Merlin."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, standing up. "We're going to have to take him to the hospital."

"We can't," said Ginny. "They will ask what happened. Can't you just fix him up?"

"I'm not comfortable with doing that," she said. "Besides, if I screw up, I don't want a lawsuit on my hands."

"The hospital has way too much on their hands right now," said Ron. "They're cleaning up the people his father hurt."

"Ron," said his mother warningly.

Ron sighed, defeated. "Yes, ma'am."

Ron put one arm under Draco's legs, and the other by his neck, and lifted him up. "He's surprisingly light," he muttered to Harry.

"Be careful," Harry advised. "You never know when he might stop pretending to be half-dead, and all of a sudden, he'll take a swing at you."

"Thanks," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Mum, maybe we should wait until dad gets home," Ginny suggested quietly.

"I can handle it," said Mrs. Weasley.

However, after trying to pick the boy up, Mrs. Weasley realized it wasn't going to be so easy to take care of on her own.

"I can help, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, feeling as though he had to do something useful during his stay at the Burrow.

"I—" Mrs. Weasley looked ready to object. "All right," she said.

Harry nodded, taking Draco from Ron's arms. Harry could not help but realize that Ron was right about the weight thing; he felt more like a small wooden chair than a human being.

"He's obviously been through the mill," said Harry.

"Indeed." Mrs. Weasley agreed.

"That's not fair. We want to come!" said Ginny, crossing her arms.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," said Mrs. Weasley, rubbing her eyes wearily. "This isn't a field trip."

"Someone needs to wait here. Your father won't know where we've gone," protested Mrs. Weasley weakly, knowing that no matter what she said, they were going to beg to come.

"George is upstairs," said Ron.

"He'll tell him," said Ginny.

It was obvious that Hermione wanted to come just as much as the others did, but she was politely keeping quiet.

"And if we tell George we're going, he'll want to come as well," said Mrs. Weasley. "Oh, all right. I don't know why I bother, as it's obvious not one of you listens to a word I say anymore."

Harry thought Mrs. Weasley's sudden submissive attitude was the cause of that particular problem.

So, the five of them ended up in the waiting room at St. Mungo's. Harry thought the waiting room was a very appropriate name for the large white room he was sitting in, considering all they could do any longer was wait.

The woman at the front desk had seemed impatient with them when they arrived because they couldn't tell her what was wrong. The healers, at first, didn't know what to do with Draco. He had been sent to many different wards before he was settled in one room.

Mrs. Weasley had been dealing with the nurses that kept coming in to talk with her.

"No, I am not his guardian. He showed up in my backyard like that."

The four teenagers tried not to laugh when a new nurse would come to ask the same questions. It looked as though Mrs. Weasley was ready to say, "To hell with it. We'll take the boy home."

"Why do I feel so bad?" asked Harry. He and Ginny were sitting a few seats down from Ron and Hermione. It had gotten a bit uncomfortable after their third kiss.

"Are they still going at it?" Ginny asked, laughing. "Well, I guess I'm happy for them…"

"Yeah," said Harry, glancing back at Ron and Hermione again.

"And, to answer your question: You're Harry Potter."

Harry blinked. "Well, thanks for the clarification."

Ginny sighed. "I feel sorry for you. You've been cursed with a good heart."

Harry nudged her. "You're not so cold-hearted yourself."

Ginny sighed teasingly. "You hurt me, Harry. You really do."

Mrs. Weasley walked back over to them, taking a seat next to Harry. "Why'd you move?" she asked, confused.

Ginny smirked. "We have a couple showing their love a few seats down."

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "When did that happen?" she asked, becoming serious.

"Much later than it was supposed to," Harry answered, laughing. "So, what did the nurse say?"

"Are you his guardian?"

"Again?" Ginny asked. "Unbelievable."

"The next time they ask me, I'm going to say I am," she said.

"Please. The next time they ask, I'm going to say I am," said Ginny. "They're so stupid."

A few more moments passed in silence between them before Harry asked what was on everyone's mind.

"Are we going to write to his parents? They probably want to know where he is."

Mrs. Weasley fiddled with her hands in her lap, looking at her fingers instead of Harry. "Harry, have you ever found a hurt baby bird?"

Harry, who could see no relevance at all, nodded. "Yeah."

"Were you ever told not to touch it?"

"Yes," said Harry slowly. He caught Ginny's eye to see if maybe she understood what this was about; she shrugged.

"Do you know why you're not supposed to touch it, besides the fact that you don't want to risk getting blood on your hands?"

"No idea," said Harry, bemused.

"If you pick up the bird and nurse it back to health, you know you're doing a good thing. However, if the bird goes back to his nest, the mother will smell human on it, and the mother will not go near it. Therefore, it won't be fed."

"It dies of starvation," Ginny added.

"So, you thought you were doing a good thing, but when the bird goes back home, it ends up dying anyway."

"Are you saying the Malfoys won't take us in just because we took care of him?" asked Harry. "I mean, the war is over now. That's—"

"Well, he did come to us, didn't he?" said Ginny. "Maybe, it'll look like he begged us for help or something."

"I'm just saying that, perhaps, we should wait for Draco to wake up and tell us what happened before we get his parents over here."

Harry still didn't completely understand, and he was sure there was more to what Mrs. Weasley was thinking, but he sat silently, deciding it was better to just let it be.

It took about an hour for anything helpful to come along. A short, blonde, nurse of about twenty walked into the waiting room. Harry recognized her as the first one they had spoken with.

The nurse walked over to them.

"I'm Nurse Mary," she said. "You do not know his name?"

Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath. "No. I do not," she lied.

The nurse sighed. "This is very difficult for us. I apologize."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. The others stayed quiet.

"He is slipping in and out of consciousness. Right now, he is awake, but…I don't think he's really there."

"He's delirious, you mean?" Harry asked.

The nurse turned her eyes to Harry, glancing up noticeably to his scar. "Well, sort of. Are you—"

"Yes," said Harry, feeling, for the first time, happy to be Harry Potter. He knew he could use that name to his advantage.

"—Harry Potter?" she finished her sentence.

"Yes," said Harry again. "Yes, I am. I'm Harry Potter. Can we go in and see him?"

"Strictly speaking—"

Ginny cut her off, "Rudely speaking," she said, "you would be either dead or enslaved if it weren't for this boy right here. This hospital would probably not even exist without him."

The nurse cleared her throat, hoping to prevent a disturbance. "Let's go in then."

They followed the nurse down the hallway. "You've got quite a group here," said the nurse nervously. Harry tried not to laugh as he realized she was intimidated by Ginny; everyone was.

"Only these two are mine," said Mrs. Weasley. "I have seven, though."

"Six, mum," said Ginny.

Harry bit his lip and turned to Ron, but Ron was looking down at the floor. This had become a common occurrence at the burrow. Ginny was grieving the loss of Fred in her way, by saying his name, making sure people knew he was gone, talking about it, even crying about it on rare occasions. Mrs. Weasley, however, was in a sort of denial. She refused to admit that she had lost one of her children.

"Seven," said Mrs. Weasley, not looking at her daughter.

"Mum, I—"

"Damnit, Ginny, shut-up," said Ron.

Ginny did so, but she didn't look happy about it.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "It'll be okay soon."

"I don't feel like crying anymore," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

Harry didn't say anything else.

Finally, after what seemed like days, the reached Malfoy's room. It was rather warm, but not as bad as the waiting room, and the walls were painted blue. Harry thought the change in color was necessary. All the white had a tendency to make a person dizzy, and dizziness probably isn't good for someone who is ill or injured.

Harry was glad to see that Malfoy wasn't hooked up to any machines. Other than the new scars on his face (which Harry had to admit he was rather excited about; it would make Draco unable to effectively tease Harry about his own scar), he looked the same as he looked the last time Harry and the others had seen him.

"He'll open his eyes," said the nurse, "but we're pretty sure he's not aware of our presence."

"I'll be back in a minute," she said, closing the door behind her.

"This has been an interesting day," said Ron, pulling Hermione closer to him.

"Yeah," said Hermione.

Harry moved closer to the bed cautiously, poking Malfoy's arm. "Are you awake?" he asked, somewhat impatiently. He was desperate for answers.

The blonde murmured something unintelligible and turned his face into the pillow.

"Ohhh, Malfoy," said Ron, trying to get him to make another sound.

Malfoy groaned, muttering something else to himself.

"Stop," said Mrs. Weasley. "The boy is confused."

Ron sighed. "Fine. We'll be nice, and when he wakes up, he can be ungrateful."

"The way it's meant to be," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

The nurse walked back into the room. This time, she was accompanied by a healer.

"Hello," he said cheerfully.

"Hi," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's going on with him?"

"On the outside, he's all right. There may be some brain damage," said the healer, dropping his smile.

"Brain damage?" asked Ron, looking mildly concerned, for the first time.

"We're not sure how serious it is quite yet," said the healer.

"Like permanent stuff?" Harry asked.

"Again, not sure."

Harry poked him again. "He's made some…noises."

"Like muttering and stuff," said Hermione.

The healer nodded. "That's good," he said. He turned to the nurse. "Could you steady him?

The nurse walked over to the side of the bed opposite Harry. "Son," she said quietly, unsure what else to call him. "Son, sit up."

The only sign that Draco may have heard her was the movement of his arm. The nurse sighed, but helped him up herself while the healer walked over with a potion.

"Open your mouth, sweetie," she said.

Draco opened his eyes and groaned. "Nuh," he said.

The nurse, however, ignored his 'nuh' and pulled his chin down slightly to give the healer the ability to pour the potion in his hand into Draco's unwilling mouth.

"There," she said, releasing him. Draco blinked a few times and covered his face with his hands.

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. "What was that supposed to do?" she whispered.

Harry shrugged.

The nurse gently pried Draco's hands away from his face. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Draco turned away from her and shrugged. "Okay."

"That's good," said the nurse.

Draco looked wide awake, pleasant, and it didn't seem to Harry that he was reacting the way he should have been to having Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys in a hospital room with him.

He did look a little lost, however, and when he caught sight of how many people were staring at him, he became nervous.

"Stop," he said quietly, covering his face again.

Harry frowned. Malfoy was acting very oddly.

"It's okay," said the nurse, taking his hands away again.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

"Some injuries," said the healer.

"Listen, I have to go. There are other—"

The healer interrupted the nurse. "Of course."

They all watched the Nurse Mary leave the room.

"I'm Healer Madock," said the healer. "Can you tell me your name?"

Draco shook his head, refusing to take his hands away from his face.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Healer Madock gently.

Draco nodded. "They're staring at me," he admitted weakly.

"If you take your hands away from your face for me, they will look away." The healer spoke as if he were talking to a frightened toddler.

Draco pulled his hands away shakily to find that the others were all looking at the ground. He smiled. "Good."

"Good," repeated Healer Madock. "You want to tell us your name now?"

Draco quickly shook his head.

"No?"

"No," said Draco.

Healer Madock seemed to have expected this. "What about telling me what happened?"

Malfoy laughed. He laughed, and it wasn't at someone else's pain; it was a true, happy-like, laugh.

"I don't know."

"You don't remember?" asked the healer.

"No," said Draco sadly. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," said the healer. "I really wish I could call you by your name, but you don't remember that either?"

Draco looked away from the man. "No," he said, letting his hair fall into his eyes.

"Let's all give this boy some time to rest," said the healer. "Come on."

Careful not to even glance at Draco, they all followed Healer Madock out of the room. Immediately after exiting, the questions began.

"What is wrong with him?" asked Hermione. "Is it like amnesia?"

"I don't think so," said the healer.

"You said there was brain damage," said Ginny.

"Oh, there definitely is. This, I think, could be partly because of the brain damage, but mostly psychological."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "He purposely forgot everything?"

"I think he's reverted back to…a child-like state, in which case, I can hardly do anything to fix him."

"What, like, he thinks he's a little kid?" asked Harry. "Can that even happen?"

"It's…I'm not sure that's what it is," said the healer. "But it's a bit more complicated than that, and it can only happen under extreme circumstances. It may go back to normal in an hour—a day—a week. The memory problem—I don't know how long or if—"

"So, it could be permanent?" said Ron. "Like, he'll never remember who w—I mean—he is?"

"I can't say right now," said the healer. "Look, if you're really concerned about this kid, come back tomorrow. I'll have more information for you then."

"Wow," said Harry, as Healer Madock was walking away.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "How do we get ourselves into these situations?"

Author's Note: Please please pleeeeeeeease review! Thanks.