Finally the prone man's lids flitted open and Hawke was met with a pair of dazed hazel eyes. With the light of his patronus listing vigilantly near the door, Hawke's shadow shifted over the bound wizard in accordance with the charm's movements. Back and forth, back and forth. The rhythm was almost hypnotizing as he began to wonder if this man had comprehended his words or not. Watching those pupils battle for focus, Hawke supposed that this stranger needed time to recover from his ordeal. He'd heard that chocolate could be useful for battling the effects of a dementor attack, that a few bites could imitate the chemicals of love and affection. Regrettably Hawke did not walk around with his pockets full of candy. As such, he waited quietly, his wand trained on the other out of habit.<br/><br/>At least the man was alive, for that he was grateful. Inevitably Hawke would have to have been the one to inform his family . . . and no amount of training could prepare him for that. Although, as those orbs drifted about as if searching for something and then back up at him, the auror began to wonder if perhaps he'd been too late after all and now hovered over the figure of an invalid.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#5900b3"> "Arthur McClagin, Muggle Liason Office."</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b300b3"> </span>Unconsciously Hawke heaved a sigh of relief.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"So he speaks." </span>The blond grinned.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Welcome back, Mr. McClagin." </span>He had heard the name a few times around the building, but had never been able to give it a face. Though . . . for some reason he'd thought the man would be older. However grateful he was that Arthur seemed to be in a single non-vegetative piece, it didn't take long for his expression to slowly fall into one of minor annoyance as this Ministry office employee carried on to stutter before him, clearly still very much shaken from his attack. And to think Hawke had thought Arthur to be a mute . . .<br/><br/>While Hawke knew the poor man had every reason to blither on about his wand and some lady named Margaret, he couldn't stop himself as he held up his hand in his best attempt to seem reassuring.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000"> "Hey, hey, slow down there." </span><i>Please. </i>He quite honestly had very little patience when it came to incompetence. Dueling was his specialty, not citizen liaison. The auror raised an eyebrow at the papers strewn about, likely the most pathetic weapon he'd ever seen.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"You're a very fortunate man, Mr. McClagin. The kiss is a fate worse than death . . . certainly nothing worth risking over a wand," </span>he sighed, casting a charm to reorganize the files and levitating them onto the edge of the nearest desk<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">. "You shouldn't be up here."</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b35900"> </span>Especially if a stack of documents was Arthur's best defense. Stupid was an understatement. Hawke narrowed his eyes sternly, thinking that perhaps he might be coming off as a bit harsh, but Arthur could have gotten himself killed. "<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">There's a reason we evacuated the Ministry. We don't know who let <i>those things</i> in, and while you're safe from the dementors as long as you're with me,"</span>he motioned to his patronus still pacing in the background. That, at least, he could promise.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"They aren't the only danger hiding in these halls tonight, so you'll have to come back for your wand at a later date, I'm afraid." </span>He hadn't forgotten the whispers he'd heard before Arthur's screams had wracked the department. But he would have to escort Arthur out of the building before he could investigate further.<br/><br/>However, it seemed this man was determined to give him a headache this evening as his panic escalated further, pleading with those expressive eyes for Hawke to believe his innocence. Watching Arthur wriggle on the floor in a weak attempt to free himself from Hawke's unforgiving restraints, a bud of guilt bloomed within him. Getting drained by a dementor and waking up to find yourself in ropes and at the mercy of a law officer . . . this was most likely the most traumatic night of Arthur's sheltered life. And while the auror's instincts insisted that perhaps this man was trying too hard, that surely no one was truly this much of a babbling mess, he would do almost anything at this point to calm Arthur enough for a moment of silence. And it wasn't as if he could do much without a wand, anyways. Besides, the fact that Hawke still had no idea if Theo was okay or not had built up the beginnings of anxiety beneath his unshaken exterior and this man's nerves were definitely not helping. "Yes, actually. Before you woke I suspected that perhaps you might have had something to do with tonight's attack during the ceremony." The blond leveled his wand in the other's direction. But after he'd woken, Hawke couldn't see this man hurting a fly. Then again, papers might actually be useful in that endeavor.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"But rest assured, I'm not convinced you could control dementors if you tried."</span>He hoped Mr. McClagin might forgive him for his insinuated insult . . . or that perhaps it would go right over the man's head.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"I'm going to release the binding spell now, under the condition that I escort you out of the building." </span>He wasn't confident that Arthur could make it outside without getting attacked again. Standing from his uncomfortable crouching position, he muttered the spell that would banish the ethereal cords holding the wizard captive.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b30000">"And don't call me Sir. I'm not that bloody old</span>," he grumbled, waiting for Arthur to pick himself up off the floor.