Summer Crescendo

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.
Seasons are changing
And waves are crashing
And stars are falling all for us
Days grow longer and nights grow shorter
I can show you I'll be the one

I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

-Red Jumpsuit Apparatus: My Guardian Angel

Draco landed in St. Mungo's with weak knees and an unconscious Harry Potter. He shook off the exhaustion and began yelling at the nearest mediwitch. Sparing a quick glance at Potter he surmised that his stasis spell was still intact. If not....well never mind that possibility, there was nothing he, or anyone, could do if that was the case.

"Healer! Harry Potter needs a healer!" The entire ward stopped and stared at Draco as if he were wearing a snorkack as a hat. Then, slowly one by one, the staff's faces darkened as they saw Potter lying prone at Draco's knees. Accusations and anger filled their faces. "I did not do this to him. I found him like this, you idiots. Do you really think that I would risk my life to bring Potter to you if I wasn't totally innocent? I would caution you though, even if I were guilty, I am not one to be trifled with and I will defend myself against any accusation or attack, but please try your best." Draco's face became a frightening mask of anger and mirth. He seemed to relish the idea of violence.

"Mr. Malfoy, please cease threatening my medical staff and allow them to help Mr. Potter." A very tall, slim wizard stood behind him. His entire body exuded serenity and calmness, but Draco could see a red hot flame burning in his eyes. This ancient was not one to trifle with. "Please remove Mr. Potter from stasis when I ask you to. Healer Locke, please get these potions from the store closet. Someone firecall Healer Modan, his services will be required soon."

Without the slightest hesitation the staff jumped to the man's orders. He watched his staff hustle to do his bidding until he was sure they had remembered the orders. Pivoting on his foot, he squared his shoulders to Draco and peered down his nose at the shorter blonde youth. The fire had gone out in his eyes slightly.

"Follow me, Mr. Malfoy." His voice was curt and sharp, but held no accusation.

"I will not! I have other business to attend to." Being ordered around by anyone other than his parents was not something Draco accepted EVER.

"You will either follow me, or I shall call the Aurors and that, my dear boy, would be most unfortunate. I can almost assure you that you would end up in Azkaban and the only thing that will be able to get you out will be Mr. Potter's admission of you innocence. That's, of course, assuming that we will manage to save him." The fire was back and it burned into the younger wizard's mind and left him shaking. This man was not just a wizard.

"What in Merlin's name are you?" Draco hated the way his voice quivered.

"I am as you are, only more. Are you ready to follow me? We have a few minutes before we will be ready to treat Mr. Potter and thanks to your stasis spell although I have never seen an Aequitas spell used in such a manner." A short smile flitted across his face as he saw Draco's astonishment. "I also have dabbled in the Dark Arts. Well, dabbled may be the wrong word, excelled would probably be better suited for my experience. Please, follow me to my office. I assure I will not involve the authorities if I do not have to, you have my word on that."

Draco felt his mind go numb with fatigue and he allowed himself to relax and follow the older man to a room furnished with a desk and chairs. It was nowhere near the finery that Draco's personal Healer had at his private practice, but at this point Draco couldn't care less. He felt that if he remained on his feet much longer he would pass out. To his surprise, he was not offered a chair, but a seat on an examination table. Those eyes -- something had extinguished the flame in them -- smiled at him as he was directed up onto the table.

"There must be some misunderstanding Healer-er. I apologize...I do not believe I was given your name sir."

"Healer works fine for now Mr. Malfoy. Now come up on the table. I just want to make sure you have not exhausted yourself too much. Too much wandless magic can drain a wizard to the point of making them comatose. So please allow me to give you a quick glance over." Draco marveled as the healer picked him up as if he weighed no more than a sheet of paper. He was placed on his back and quickly gave into exhaustion.

* * * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was still breathing. At least I think I am. He took an experimental inhale and was overjoyed to feel his chest expand. Overjoyed, that is, until his ribs and shoulders screamed in protest. "Merlin!" The gasp was barely whispered, but it brought another round of pain from his torso. He gritted is teeth to stifle a scream that would most likely have caused more pain. Willing his body to calm down was much more difficult. His muscles seemed like a mass of coiled springs. His mind was ready to run and his eyes were darting around the room searching for danger. Where am I? I'm not sure. Is this the Dursleys'? The questions tumbled out of him but the answers were not so forthcoming.

Panic was barely subdued as the questions mounted in his brain. His wand was no where to be seen. His breathing once again became erratic. He thought of calling for help, but before he could call out dim light flooded the room.

"Well, you finally decided to leave slumberland, have you Potter?" The surprise of the familiar drawl issuing out of the lavatory almost put him back out. Draco Malfoy was in his room! His eyes flew open wide in fright as he spastically reached for his non existent wand frantically. His injuries screamed in protest, but he didn't care. His panic heightened as Draco quickly drew his own wand and pointed it at Harry.

"Please Mal-" The whimper was quickly cut off as he heard Malfoy's voice utter a spell. He waited for the pain or, even worse, that foul green light to issue forth. He felt the magic wrap itself around his straining body enveloping with power. His ability to move was taken way as the petrifying spell froze his body. Harry's eyes were locked on Malfoy's silver orbs and tried to plead silently to whatever mercy his captor might have left in him.

* * * * *

"Potter! Stop that incessant flailing or you'll really do yourself in. You're injured you git. Now calm down and I'll remove the spell." Draco's eyes were soft even though his mouth still held a sneer. "Do I make myself clear? I will not have you waste my efforts to save you by trying to escape St. Mungo's critical care ward." Noting Harry's face was currently a frozen mask of pain and fright did something to him. He hated Harry for looking at him like he was the very instrument of his destruction. Everything accentuated the way Harry, and the rest of the general public, felt about him. He was by all rights and purposes a Death Eater even though his forearm was still unmarked. Something inside him snapped and he was forced to turn his face from the ghastly image his spell has unwittingly temporarily etched onto the other boy's visage. What had he done to earn that response? He clenched his fists at his sides trying to stifle the pain, but he knew he was only stalling it until later.

Taking a deep breath he turned around to face the petrified boy, but found that his eyes were more intent on staring at the walls and the bedside table rather than looking at that horrible image on Potter's face. He knew he looked ashamed, but the thought of trying to hide his feelings after the ordeal of the last few hours left him exhausted. "Finite Incantatem."

Potter, being caught unaware of his newly attained freedom, let his limbs drop. Draco saw the painful result the sudden movement would cause the boy's injuries, rushed forward and grabbed Harry's arms before they could crash onto the bed. The blonde's slender hands gently held the injured arms underneath the elbows and slowed their decent. His silver eyes never left the emerald fire of the boy in the bed throughout the whole ordeal. Draco saw the pain in those eyes. Not just the physical pain from his current maladies, but years of agony and mistreatment.

Draco let go of Harry's arms as they rested on the bed, but he lacked the will power to leave those eyes. Windows to the soul, Draco marveled. The only sound in the room was the faint wheezing from the mauled Gryffindor; Draco hadn't even dared to draw a breath. Those eyes held so much feeling: pain, acceptance, fear, introversion, but mostly there was the desire to go through life unnoticed. Potter had never wanted to play hero for anyone, let alone an entire community of being that were probably more knowledgeable about this war than he was. The maelstrom of emotions swirled within those eddies of jade and emerald.

After a few moments, Potter began to shake and shy away from Draco's gaze as if the very act of looking at him was painful. That look was back and he was not so gently reminded that he was nothing but a Death Eater in the eyes of the populace and he would always be treated as such. The realization sliced through his chest and almost made him gasp in pain, but he stifled the outburst with the barest hint of a cringe. Very stiffly he stood and turned to leave the room and its occupant who was terrified of him.

"Well, Potter, it looks like you will possibly make a full recovery. I'm...er-glad I guess. Quidditch would hardly be worth my time if you weren't sullying the air with your terribly juvenile acrobatics." He offered a small smile.

"Why?" The hoarse whisper that issued from Harry's black and blue throat was barely audible and it seemed that the effort of speaking hurt him as well. Those green eyes were searching for an answer, but what was the question, Draco wondered.

"Not now Potter, just get some rest. I will wait outside if you'd like." He hoped that his clipped tone would staunch any further questions. He didn't know the answers himself yet. He turned on his heel, a very Snape-esque action, and left the room to think. His only break in stride was to make sure the door closed softly so as not to disturb the occupant who was, in the span of a few moments, already nodding off.