Harry forced himself to let go of his husband and stand up. He was getting ready to leave when he caught a glimpse of some ink on Draco's left arm. He pushed the sleeve up, revealing an odd looking tattoo where the scar of dark mark used to be.
Instead laid a bird emblazoned in a fascistic manner. Harry squinted, trying his best to comprehend why Draco had such a mark. Harry made sure to hide the mark under Draco's sleeve in hopes that a snooping healer wouldn't notice; then left the enclosed space.
He made his way to the lifts, having a peculiar encounter with a short curly hair woman, strangely enough, having the same facial features as his mother. Harry watched as the short, strange, happy woman skipped out of the lift, and on past him. She gave him a partial wave, and headed to the closed off guard.
As the lift closed Harry noticed where the woman was heading, before he could stop the moving cart, he stood hopeless as he watched the witch head towards the bed Draco was in.
*~*
Blaise had left the visitor's lobby to head back to work since he was owled someone had tried to take the sketches to his new line of robes. Pansy had decided to stay just a little longer. She wanted to see how Draco was, but most importantly, Harry.
She knew that the hot headed git would do something dumb, and then she would have to report not only to Draco but also Hermione. Pansy shot up from her seat when she saw Harry pass by the lobby and went on to intersect him.
"Hey, how's Malfoy?"
"He's fine," Harry bit. Pansy grabbed the man's arm, and asked him with an arched brow, "really? Where are you going then?"
"Work, Parkinson. Believe it or not, some of us don't rely on our inheritance to live."
Pansy ignored Harry's comment for the time being. "Where are they keeping him? Draco I mean."
"Fourth floor."
"He was poisoned?"
"Yeah."
"But he's fine now?"
"Yeah."
Harry brushed past Pansy and left the hospital before she could interrogate him even more. Pansy turned around; she headed to the lift, where she encountered a healer and questioned him on Draco's whereabouts.
"Malfoy? Oh, yes! He consumed a very rare poison. I believe he's in the fifth floor," he answered, and with that left to assist another healer.
Pansy glared at the spot Harry was standing only seconds ago for being lied to. She hated liars, but her look later softened when the questions as to why Harry would lie stared to flood in.
*~*
The whole department fell silent when the man marched into the large open space. Harry made his way to his cubicle. He flicked his wand, bringing the stack of papers that he'd handed Ron to flow his way. The redhead shot up.
"Bloody hell! What are you doing!"
Harry didn't answer; he was too caught up searching for the picture of the strange mark. Ron snapped his fingers in front of the man's face.
"Oi, Harry!"
Harry slammed his hands on the table out of frustration. "What!?" he shouted, jerking his head up to look at the redhead, his eyes filled with fire. Ron backed down. "That's my case, what are you doing?"
"It's my case now," Harry replied with a stern voice before going back to the stack of papers. Ron ignored the warning in the man's voice and insisted. "How so?" he asked. "Why are you here anyways? Shouldn't you be in St. Mungo's with Malfoy?"
Ron unknowingly hit a nerve. "Yes, Ron." Harry sneered, raising his voice. "I should be at that bloody hospital with my husband, but instead I'm here. Why is that?....I don't know, let me think...oh, I know...because the bastard decided yesterday, out of all forsaken days, was the perfect day for him to die; only he's not dead yet, which for some reason makes things worse!" Harry was now spitting each word. "So yes, Ron. I should be at St. Mungo's but instead I'm here trying to come up with a good way to save my husband!
"Now...this case has now become mine; and if you so much as think to take it from me, you better not doubt it, Ron. I will hex you."
The way Harry was speaking to Ron reminded him of the days they had to stay at 12 Grimmauld Palace. Harry had been a mess, yelling at him and Hermione for every little thing. They could barely stand the guy. It was like not having Draco with him turned him into this rabid beast no one wanted to be with.
"Alright, mate...." Ron cautiously stated. "Just calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," Harry snapped.
It was just now that the words he had practically shouted set in. He could feel all eyes on him, and so he turned to face the shocked spectators. "What are you looking at? I'm talking to Weasley, get back to work."
The aurors watching it all unfold forced themselves to turn their attention back to what they were doing. Ron took this opportunity to take a glance at what Harry was trying to do exactly, after all, he didn't want him to take all of the credit if he managed to solve the case.
"What are you doing?"
Ron drew his eyes back to Harry. "I--I want to help." Harry arched a brow, he was acting as if he hadn't known Ron for more than half of his life, irritating him. "C'mon, Harry, let me help." Harry thought about Ron's words.
"Alright, fine," he groaned.
Ron stole one of the sheets of papers Harry had in his hands. "So what are we looking for?" he asked.
Harry sighed. "A bird."
"A bird?"
"Yeah." Harry scratched his head out of frustration.
"What kind of bird?"
"A bird, Ron!" Harry threw his arm in the air, dropping some papers. "A raven spreading its wings, or an eagle; hell, it can be a dragon...I'll know it when I see it," He finally said, collapsing back on his seat.
Ron looked at his friend quite saddened. It seemed like he was getting worse and worse without Draco. He wasn't going to last; not without his husband, so Ron went back to scanning over the stack of paper until he found the one Harry was looking for. He handed the paper to his friend without context, making him jump up with a glimmer of hope in his emerald eyes.
"Now, what is this about?"
Harry shook his head. "Sh!" He brought his finger to his lips, shushing the redhead on the spot. He couldn't think with his high-pitched voice; he needed to concentrate, he needed complete silence.
"Harry..?"
"Shut up!"
Ron suppressed the urge to yell back at the man. He knew what he was going through; after all, he would go mad, maybe even worse than Harry, but his patience was running thin.
"Get me Greengrass."
When the redhead didn't move, Harry shot his head up to face him. "Well what are you waiting for? A handwritten letter? Get me Greengrass!"
Ron's worried glance became concern. "Harry, she's with the prime minister. She won't be back until Kingsley thinks those death eaters won't attempt to murder the head of the muggles." The man proceeded to place his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You've been up for almost three days; I think you should rest.
"Go back home, then after you've showered, eaten, slept, and have let yourself process everything come back and talk to me and Hermione. You need to let us help you."
"Why is everyone so concerned? I'm fine!" The sentence which had once started quite confidently ended with a little squeak as Harry tried his best to keep his emotions in check. "I'm fine. Why does everyone think I shouldn't be?" Harry falsely smiled. "....I'm fine....He's just sleeping. He's just--he..."
Ron quickly grabbed his friend and took him to an empty office before anyone noticed he was on the verge of breaking down. Harry knew why Ron had dragged him to the small enclosed space; he knew and so he fought the urge let the tears slip.
"Harry, it's fine to cry," Ron tried to reassure the man. "I'll be the only on who see you and I won't judge."
Harry bit the inside of his cheek. "Ron, I'm fine."
"You'll be fine when you go home. We don't want you here, not in this state at least. Go home."
Harry lowly growled, yet Ron didn't faze, making the man throw his hands in the air out of anger. "Fine," he finally said quite defeated. He pushed past Ron, and headed to the lifts.