Cicatrices- Marks That Remain

Draco, From Now On

Harry forced his lungs to function, his jaw clenching as he stood before Head Auror Robards with Ron and Mordecai. His hands were still covered in blood from when he'd found Malfoy, and he was still out of breath following everything that occurred. The flurry of events was a blur to him. The only thing Harry could really manage at the moment was staying there and catching his breath.

"I don't understand, sir."

"I need you three to keep an eye on Malfoy. He's the first witness we've been able to obtain, and may well be the only one for a long while. We need to take advantage of the opportunity we've been granted."

"Do you mean protection, or questioning?" asked Ron.

"Anything you may deem necessary, Weasley. Berrycloth, ensure that he's offered witness protection." Mordecai nodded.

"Do you think questioning him is the right thing to do at the moment, though?"

"I never said you needed to question him, Potter. I said to use this rare opportunity to gather intel. Has he woken up yet?"

Harry sighed. "No, not yet."

Robards pursed his lips. "Let me know when he does, and ensure that by then you all have a plan for him. Report it to me so I can get it approved."

Harry nodded, and the three of them were dismissed from Robards' office.

Ron and Mordecai had both gone home while Harry decided to go to the hospital and deal with Malfoy. When he arrived, he couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit him

Malfoy- Draco... was pale. And despite the fact that he was now bandaged up and no longer in critical conditions or unstable and at immediate risk of dying, Harry was still seeing flashes of blood and gashes, of missing and disfigured body parts and what he initially thought was Draco's dead body.

Yes, it was going to be Draco, from now on, Harry determined. Such animosity just felt cruel, at this point. What with Malfoy-Draco... in the state he was in, the state Harry had found him in.

He remembered the sinking of his gut when he thought he'd found Malfoy's body too late, when he stopped breathing and got closer to assess the damage, when his lips formed a thin line as he forced himself to keep his composure and just run the procedure.

He remembered when Malfoy suddenly opened his eyes.

The rush to Mungo's, watching them wheel him frantically into a room and promptly begin healing him, was just a surge of adrenalin, to Harry. Then they spoke to Robards, and now he was back in the room with Malfoy. Draco...

Harry had to admit that compared to earlier, Draco looked a lot more peaceful, now. His bright blond hair caught the light from the window and made him glow, like death had given him a gentle kiss before bringing him back.

Harry shook his head, wondering why his brain ever dared put the word kiss in the context of Draco Malfoy, anyway.

With a sigh, he brought up a chair and sat down, scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. Now, all that was left for him to do was wait for Malfoy to wake up.

As he settled into his seat he took to glancing around the room, finding something to occupy his mind with that wasn't how he'd nearly found Malfoy dead.

Draco.

Anyway...

Time passed, and Harry still kept with his mindless observation of the room around him, from the blue trim along the walls to the difference between the white on the floor and the white on the ceiling. It didn't take long for Draco's patient chart to start looking rather tempting for Harry to flip through, the words Draco L. Malfoy seemingly staring daggers at Harry. Everything that had happened to Malfoy last night was just a simple reach away. Harry would know just how much he survived...

He would know if he was poisoned, if that was something he should start considering, now.

It would be an invasion of privacy, chimed one corner of Harry's mind. You wouldn't like it if someone you spent your life hating looked through your medical records, even less after such a traumatic experience.

Just to see if he was poisoned. That's all I would look for, was the reasoning that had him reaching for the chart.

There was a sound, then. Harry jumped and turned to see Malfoy seemingly waking up. He brought his hands back to himself, standing abruptly and stumbling despite himself in an attempt to look exceedingly not guilty.

"You're awake."

It was a stupid thing to say, Harry realized that much only after he'd said it. He watched as M- Draco... Draco shifted with a grunt, and Harry promptly walked up to where he could be seen by Draco with minimal effort.

"How are you feeling?"

Getting kicked out of the hospital room was not quite what Harry was expecting, though he had to admit he wasn't surprised. He could only wonder what might be going through Draco's head at the moment, given everything that had happened.

With a sigh, he decided to head on over to the cafeteria and get something warm to drink, to ease his nerves. He ignored how everyone there stared and how he got a free cuppa "as a thank you." He needed it anyway.

When he removed Malfoy's memories of what'd occurred, Harry couldn't help but notice how Draco seemed to relax, if only the slightest bit. He put them in a vial and left without as much as a word, though he exited rather slowly, in case of the off chance that Draco might have something else to say, something like 'wait', or perhaps even a 'thank you'.

He arrived at the ministry feeling rather exhausted, having been up the entire night for Malfoy- Draco...

Harry was just glad he'd finally managed to save somebody.

Ron was in Harry's office when he arrived, half asleep and nodding off over Harry's desk, with his head resting on one arm he had propped up. He was startled awake when Harry opened the door.

"Mate,"

"Did you wait for me?"

Ron stood, wiping his face and straightening out his robes.

"Of course I did. Today's been rough, especially for you." He rounded the desk, stopping when he was in front and resting against its edge. "I know you were kind of dreading the day it was Malfoy we found," he said with a slight shrug and a quirk of a smile. "Figured you could use a pint."

The offer was incredibly tempting, Harry admitted. A nice cold pint after such a tiring day. And, Merlin, the last time he's had a pint with Ron was... he didn't even know. It had been a while since going out in public guaranteed him to be gaped at by everyone and their mother, and his flat was in no way fit to hold guests. Harry was just about to accept when he remembered the vial sitting in his pocket. He frowned.

"Ron, you know how bloody amazing a pint sounds right now, but..." Harry revealed the memory, holding it gingerly in his hand.

"Don't we usually have almost a week to look at memories?"

As per protocol, they had three days to look at memories they'd already obtained. Ron was right that they could leave the vial until tomorrow and call it a night. In fact, it was probably the most sound option, as well, given how drained they both were. But something tugged at Harry when he considered putting this off, almost like he was laughing in the face of Draco's suffering. He glanced down at the memory, white and silver wisps floating ethereally in the vial.

"I get it," Ron finally said, turning. "I'll get the pensieve and stay here in case I need to pull you out."