"Aurors! Open up!" He knocks heavily, but no one answers. He sighs, wishing he were at home with a glass of Firewhisky and the newest tome Theo'd sent from his travels in Italy. "If you don't open up in about thirty seconds, I'm going to blast your door in. Auror or not, I'm coming in!" He listens closely, ear cocked toward the door, but there is nothing. It's odd, considering the Patronus they'd gotten earlier. "Fuck this," he mutters. "Expulso."
He steps back, watching as the door crashes open, swinging swiftly back at him. Rather than wait for it to latch shut again, the Auror catches it, wand out, and walks through. A Protego shield is up before one foot lands inside. Once there, he glances around, but sees no one.
"Auror inside. Anyone here?"
Nothing.
He goes to scan the room, but a small clinking sound catches his attention. It's from upstairs. He re-casts his shield charm, stronger this time—but what he sees when he attains the landing, he is wholly unprepared for.
"Potter?" Lying on the floor near the bed is Harry Potter, who for all intents and purposes looks to be unconscious. Sniffling turns him around, but he keeps his wand trained on Harry. "Weaselette?" His eyes move back and forth between the two. "What the fuck happened here?" He moves his wand, as she is the more alert.
Ginny is huddled against the wall behind the door. Her outstretched hand has knocked over a vial of something; its contents leak onto the hardwood floor. She's sobbing quietly into her knees with her wand clutched tightly between them. He approaches slowly.
"Weaselette." He says it firmer this time, but she does not hear him. Her eyes are locked on Harry's body. "Ginny." Nothing. "Ginevra Weasley." There she is. Wild-eyed, like a cornered wolf, Ginny stares up at him. She doesn't turn her wand on him, for which he is grateful. "Ginny, can I have your wand, please?" She looks down at the slender piece of wood. As if it burns, she throws it from her. He leans down and picks it up, placing it in a pocket of his robe. "Thank you, Ginny. I need to see if Harry is all right. Are you going to stay still?" As soon as he moves toward Harry, she screeches and lunges at him.
"Don't you dare touch him!"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Her eyes are half-closed and a tear slips out as it hits her. He catches the stiff body as she falls, laying her out on the rug next to Harry. "Fuck. What happened to the pair of you?" He casts a diagnostic charm. When the prone man's vitals come back as alive but erratic, he panics. "Why is it always chaos with you, Potter?" he mutters.
"Expecto Patronum." His wand produces a sleek raven. As he speaks to the ethereal creature, it stares at him blankly. "Kingsley, Potter is injured. I'm taking him to Mungo's. Ginny Weasley is in a body-bind in Grimmauld. Come get her and find out what the hell happened here." He takes a breath to steady himself. "Go now." Kneeling to stare at Harry, he casts a lightening charm, then lifts the unconscious man in his arms. He feels the distinct pull of apparition tug at his belly and they are gone.
"Auror coming in. I need a bed right now!" As a healer rushes up, he stares her down. "I have no idea what he was hit with."
"Is that Harry Potter?"
"Does it matter who I'm bringing in? Get me a bed, woman!"
She blinks. "Uh, yes sir." The short healer runs off to see what room is available, pointing him toward one down the hall. Draco hobbles in that direction, depositing Harry's body, only to be swarmed by healers a moment later.
"Sir," one says, "you need to leave the room."
He's not sure what compels him to argue. "This is an open Auror investigation. I need to ensure his safety and I will not be leaving the room."
"But sir, we need to take his clothes off and check him for spells and—"
"I don't care what the fuck you do with him," he growls. "Get on with it and stop wasting your bloody time yapping at me!" His arms are crossed now as he leans back in the corner. Rather than let on that he's cast several protection charms on the room and on his charge, Draco stays silent and unobtrusive. He lets them work and waits.
An hour later, they have Harry stable. A healer pulls Draco aside and informs him that it could be hours or days before he wakes up.
"He will wake up, though, won't he?"
"Yes. All of his functions are normal. He was just hit with a particularly botched Diffindo spell. You said the caster was under the influence?"
"Yes," he grumbles, not wanting to tell this healer everything about the case. He might have to put her under a restrictive speaking charm later.
"Well, he has a new scar to show for it, but whomever did the casting thankfully didn't get it right."
"Can you heal the scar?"
"It will take complicated spellwork, and we need his permission to do some of it. We have to wait until he wakes up. Are you going to be staying with him?"
"At least until he wakes, yes." Draco sighs, feeling his throat close a little as that bottle of Firewhisky walks farther and farther away. "I have to question him as soon as he wakes and I can't well have you lot botching his memories any more than they are."
"All right," she agrees. "We'll be in periodically to check on him. Let us know if anything changes in the meantime." He nods and watches as she leaves. The unyielding chair next to the bed, even when transfigured, allows for little comfort.