Reckless Abandon (Drarry)

Chapter 13

A powerful blast had Harry banging back against the wall, his breath knocked out of him as he slid downwards. His legs splayed out in front of him, it seemed to take ages to get an idea what had just happened. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding, the adrenaline whooshing through his veins putting every sense on high alert.

A cloud of dust and debris made it hard to see. Harry coughed and sputtered, trying to clear the particles from his airways.

Beside him, his co-worker Augustina was getting back to her feet, her wand out. Ron and Muneer had been out of the range of the explosion, and ran after the suspect.

Gingerly, Harry got to his feet, and could feel that he wasn't seriously injured. He would be sore and bruised, likely a bit stiff for a few days. It would be like after his sessions with Draco, every move tinged with pain. At least these new injuries wouldn't bring up carnal memories.

Augustina was exploring the left side of the warehouse, so Harry pulled out his wand and moved to the right side. Empty crates were stacked, some fallen over from the blast and broken. Shards of glass crunched under his sturdy work boots. His eyes scanned over the industrial shelving, crammed full of bottles and ceramic pots.

Something caught his eye, and he had been in the job long enough to trust his instincts. Squatting down, he cast a Lumos spell to see better. There was a large, slumping cardboard box tucked into a corner between two shelving units with long wooden planks leaning against the wall over it.

Reaching out, Harry lifted the flap of the box. It was on it's side, the top of the box facing him, and his light made it possible to see the dirty blankets inside. His heart sank when he saw a small, ragged shoe.

"Augustina...," Harry said softly to the other auror, and she quickly came to his side. They shared a glance, and then Harry lifted the corner of the blanket. A filthy child was lying inside, curled up in a tiny ball of angular limbs and rags.

Swearing under her breath, Augustina helped Harry tug the cardboard box out of the corner, spiders and insects scuttling away from being disturbed. The child didn't stir.

Harry lifted the child while Augustina moved the box away. His heart was pounding as he performed basic first aid, and felt relieved when he could see the tiny chest moving. "Alive, barely."

Augustina passed him the emergency portkey, and Harry stood with child in his arms. In a whoosh, he was at St. Mungos, lowering his bundle to a hospital bed.

"Unconscious child we found in a potions raid. There was an explosion but I don't think he was hurt by it." Harry said quickly to the mediwitch who rushed forward.

She nodded, pushing the bed to the nearest curtained area, Harry following close behind. He cringed as she straightened the child on the bed, dropping the dirty blanket to the floor. He collected it, pulling an evidence bag from his uniform and shoving the blanket inside. The ragged clothing she removed followed after it.

"I can't even tell if it's a girl or a boy," Harry murmured.

The mediwitch was a tall, asian woman with her long hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her emerald green robes were mostly obscured with a white coverall most of the trauma staff wore.

She flicked her dark eyes up to meet Harry's. "A girl, about six years old...," she looked down as she took the vital signs, her brow lowering in concentration.

Harry was surprised at the age. He would have said a year or two younger, the girl was so slight.

"She appears to have no injuries, but is just severely dehydrated and malnourished. Any idea about her identity?"