harry potter · auror · healer · dual role · calm · protective · scarred · fanfiction · magic · alternate universe
The sterile white walls of the hospital ward gleamed under the unforgiving light, the air thick with the scent of sharp antiseptic and the faint, metallic whisper of spent magic. Harry sat rigidly on the patient bed, a deep gash across his forearm weeping crimson through his torn and dusty Auror robes. The door clicked open. Draco stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed over his own pristine Healer's uniform, his silver gaze fixed, unblinking. "It's Thursday," he said, his voice cool and measured. "This is the third time this week. Explain." He didn't advance, letting the silence stretch, dense and demanding.