Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

Hermione looked at him in horror. He was very white, his hand at the Epicyclical Charm around his throat. "He's isn't dead," Harry said. "He isn't — I'd know."

"Harry," Hermione whispered, but Harry had turned, bolted for the Great Hall doors, still wide open, and raced through. Hermione, having gone an ashy gray color, looked wildly around the table at the silent, stunned Gryffindors, hesitated — and fled after Harry.

A hum of astonished shock ran around the table. On instinct, Ginny turned towards her brother; Ron was already there, having come around the table to kneel down next to her. He took her hand and held it hard, and she looked down at him. All around her she was aware of movement -

— Charlie racing by towards the doors, followed by Madam Pomfrey, a magical stretcher already by her side. The Heads of Houses were moving rapidly towards their respective tables of students. Somewhere a girl had burst into hysterical tears: Blaise Zabini, probably. Ginny sat where she was, Ron's hands tight around her wrists. "You can't," he said, so quietly that nobody else could hear. "You can't," and she nodded, and knew it was true, even as the tears struggled to fight their way to the surface.

References:

"What?" said Lavender blankly. Then comprehension dawned. "Oh, right.

You had that whole….Harry thing. Sorry." — Friends a turtle with heavy shopping — Blackadder

“fate is what you call it when you don't know the name of the person screwing you over." — Malcolm in the Middle

"I think it just goes to show what sort of life we lead that we can even consider using 'apocalypse' in the plural” — Buffy

“Beat you to death with a shovel … A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend.” — Buffy

“"Are you happy to see me, or is that a longboat in your pocket?""

Blackadder

John Donne

Harry and Hermione were already standing outside the infirmary when Ginny arrived there. She had had to wait for many agonizing minutes inside the Great Hall, until, in the chaos, she could slip away undetected.

Instead of trying to head outside, she made a beeline for the hospital wing, Ron in reluctant tow behind her. No matter what shape Draco was in, they would have to bring him there eventually. Even if he was — well, but that didn't bear thinking about.

The infirmary door was shut fast, and outside in the hallway stood Harry, with Hermione beside him. They were deep in intent conversation. It wasn't until Ginny got close to them that she realized that the dark splotches on Harry's clothes were not melted snow, but blood. Quite a lot of blood.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, looking from one white face to another. "Is Malfoy all right?"

Hermione shrugged hopelessly. "We don't really know…"

"They're not telling us a bloody thing," Harry said, and — in what Ginny couldn't help but think of as a classic example of pointless teenage-boy aggression — he kicked the wall, and then sat down on the floor, pulling his knees up and resting his head on his arms. He didn't look as if he wanted anyone to go near him and Ginny would actually have been afraid to do so. Instead, she looked at Hermione. "Did you get to see him?" she asked quietly. "How bad do you think it is?"

Hermione shook her head. "Very bad," she said. Her voice was pitched low, as if she didn't want Harry to overhear her. She put her hand on Ginny's elbow and steered her towards Ron. "We saw him," she said, still in the same quiet voice. Ginny could hear the strain underlying her words. "He was lying in the snow and there was blood all around him. A lot of blood. I think it was coming from his shoulder — his shirt was torn there, and that seemed to be where most of the blood was. Harry went to try to stop the bleeding and…" Hermione bit her lip. "Then Lupin and Charlie and the rest of the teachers came, and they pulled Harry back. We couldn't see what was going on. Harry was fighting to get away but Lupin grabbed him and held onto him-Lupin's very strong. And Charlie picked Draco up and put him on the stretcher, and Madam Pomfrey took him through an opening into the castle, and everyone followed her. We followed too, but they shut us out at the door. They said that we would just be in the way."

Ron reached out and touched her shoulder gently. "What are they doing in there?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know."

Ron looked as if he were going to say something else, but paused as the infirmary door opened and Charlie stepped out, closing the door behind himself. He looked weary. The front of his shirt and his sleeves were soaked in blood where he must have carried Draco. His robe was off. He looked at the three of them standing clustered together, and then down at Harry on the floor, and said:

"Draco's going to be all right."

Ginny exhaled, feeling as if she were letting out a breath she had been holding for hours. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. He'll be fine. He lost a lot of blood; I know it looked nasty, but that was all it was. The wound was in his shoulder, so nothing vital was damaged."

Hermione stepped forward. "Can we see him?"

Charlie shook his head. "No, not yet. He's out cold anyway. He nearly froze to death, along with the blood loss. It looks as if he may have been out there for several hours." He tried to smile at them; it turned into a yawn. "Sorry. Look, you all should head off to class. There's nothing you can do here right now."

"Just one thing," said a soft voice. Ginny turned. It was Harry. He had gotten to his feet without any of them noticing, and stood there quietly.

His eyes were dark in the torchlight. "What happened to him, exactly?"

Charlie shook his head. "We've no idea, Harry."

"Well, what does it look like?" Harry demanded. "An accident?"

"No," said Charlie slowly. "Not an accident."

Harry's jaw set. "Then what are you not telling us? Was it a magical attack? A spell? Some kind of… creature?"

"Harry," replied Charlie flatly. "Go to class."

"No," Harry said.

"Harry — " Charlie began in a placating tone.

"Charlie," Harry snapped right back. "I want to know who or what was responsible for this, and I want to know now."

"What's going on here?" It was Professor Lupin, who had opened the infirmary door behind Charlie. He looked from Charlie's exasperated face to Harry's pale, set one. "Did you tell them Draco's fine?"

"No," said Charlie irritably. "I felt like keeping it to myself so I could make it a really big surprise."

Lupin shut the door behind him and turned to face Harry. "So what's the problem?"

"I want to know what happened, Harry said. "I want to know who's responsible for.. for this," and he made a sweeping gesture towards the infirmary door. "I'm family. I have a right to know."

"Yes, you do," said Lupin. "And as soon as we know, we will tell you."

"Let me see him. He'll tell me what happened."

"He's passed out, Harry. He can't tell you anything."

Harry glanced at Hermione. She was looking at him with large, worried eyes. Beside her, Ron looked taken aback at the force of Harry's anger.

"Harry," Hermione said gently. "We'll go to class and come back after -

maybe then they'll know a bit more."

"No," said Lupin. "When we know anything, we'll find you, Harry. Hanging about in the corridor here won't do any good. Go to class, there's no need to come back."

Ron reached for Harry's arm, but Harry shook him off. He was staring at Lupin. "You're keeping something from me," he said intently. "All of you are — and what's the difference? Whatever it is, I'll be the one who has to deal with it in the end, all alone. I always am."