Luck of Nines

38

    "Where are you going my boy?" Dumbledore asked faintly.

      "Out, now that the door is gone." He replied.

      Instead a moment later he found himself strapped to a board floating in the air, Malfoy tied to another floating nearby. Immediately he growled and fought against the restraints only for them to tighten. He went still, his breathing becoming slightly more panicked. Nothing good would come from this.

      "The boy has a point, they need to get to the hospital wing since they do no need immediate care; staying in this room any longer can't be any good for them."

      "Ah, a good point, you take them along then, I will follow along with Poppy in just a moment."

     He focused, hard, on the restraints; he wanted them gone, feeling them slacken for just a moment, enough for him to lunge with all his strength, breaking free from the platform and tumbling off.  He landed on his hands and knees and quickly rose to his feet. Snape paused unsure what to do.

    "I can walk. I can walk." He quickly assured, attempting negotiation before fight or flight.  Against trained magic he would almost surely lose, and even if he won the fight he would get in trouble and be faced with more problems.

     "Fine." Snape sneered, trying to look just about anywhere but him, yet still seeming to fail from keeping his eyes from returning.

    Malfoy complained and whimpered loudly from his board, pleading and was quickly put to sleep.

     Harry jogged keeping up with the Professor's fast pace easily despite the bone deep exhaustion that filled him, it wasn't the first time he had been forced to run on fumes and this time at least he didn't have an empty stomach working against him too. He suspected they were trying to get him to return to being magically carried though.

     The route to the hospital area that they took was short, slipping into a dark, poorly lit hallway through a wall that nearly had him balking from entering, but eventually after a few short minutes it exited a few steps away from the entry to the hospital area.

      Malfoy was set down gently on one of the hospital beds still unconscious and Ch-Harry was waved into the one beside him.

    "You'll stay here until I return with the potions Poppy will likely be needing." Snape demanded before stalking away.

    Harry scowled, somewhat curling up where he sat by the pillow of the bed. After they had strapped him to the invisible platform he certainly didn't want to wait around and see what they planned on next, but it wasn't as if he had any other choice either. Where could he go?

    There were all types of tracking spells, he'd made certain to pay particular attention to those when glancing through his textbooks, a task that had been painfully slow, and he recognized the barrier of an alert ward that Snape had sent towards the door of the Hospital Wing before leaving to grab the potions.  He couldn't even leave the room without letting others- who knew how many- know.

The rest of the night passed slowly, Snape hung around although he seemed awkward, as if he'd rather be doing anything but. Poppy- Madam Pompfrey that was- recovered quickly enough but seemed to be near tears throughout the treatment. Harry made a point not to say anything to her to send her into a fresh bout of hysterics after Professor Mcgonagall had faintly mention how they were just eleven, how could they have failed them so soon and some people named James and Lily. The Mediwitch had needed a moment to sit down after that, so in the interest of not repeating that, Harry kept quiet and merely watched as she dabbed the potion onto his wounds and wrapped them up.

A few were distorted from how they originally had been, when he'd gotten injured, somehow, so his cracked rib became two and a broken rib and a few of the scratches, shallow as they still were, no longer looked like just scratches. He wondered if it was because of the transformations between forms. It would make sense. Finally Madam Pompfrey ushered everyone out and told him to get some sleep, giving him a dreamless sleep potion before feeding Malfoy one as she left.

He didn't like the sound of it, so he cracked the window and poured it out, leaving the empty bottle on the bed stand that stood between his and Malfoy's bed. Then he also settled down to get some sleep. He hadn't gotten any yet so he was understandably tired after the two fights.

Just like that, his senses all finely tuned for danger he dozed off into his usual light sleep, the feeling of sleeping in his human shape was unusual and a little odd but a necessity despite significantly dimming his senses when he stayed without any alterations to the human form's physical state. Even then, his senses were at their best when near entirely transformed or entirely transformed into whichever form he had which they worked the best in.

He could generally see more color in his human form, for example, than he could in any other, but it was a fairly useless ability given how narrowly it restricted his vision. He did have to rely on it to read though, something he was only marginally capable of thanks to his own attempts while at the Sully's, given Mr. Sully read the newspaper aloud most days to his wife and Analyse who tried to teach him to write.

     He could hold the quill- decently albeit uncomfortably- and he knew the spelling for most words, but that helped him little.  He'd kept up with reading, a little, it was a useful skill to know the different forms of potential poisons in things; both actual and those which could potentially be harmful for Chipped Fang, directions were made easier with his minimal reading skills too. He'd used it more than he had in years though since he came to Hogwarts and found he hated it more than ever.

     He sighed, his mind drifting carelessly as it did while he slowly was pulled into a heavier doze. Somehow, there was still so much which he fell short in when considered by human standards, even now he was simply so other to their world. A fresh kill, something to him meant a stomach full of delicious, warm, food, was something of a panic for even the so called strongest of them. This Headmaster Dumbeldore. How did one such as hisself, one who should be taking a role as a respected elder still be considered the strongest and fit to lead?

     His thoughts froze as he heard the shifting of the door being gently pushed open, the feel of the slight currents changing at the motion.  Steps echoed closer, quiet and almost cat-like as somebody approached. As Professor Snape approached he realized.  Only they seemed quite so aware of how loudly everybody walked and took efforts to change that, by now they were close enough for their scent to be distinguishable. Herbs, blood, organs, smoke, the smell of one who spent a lot of time working on potions, prepping and cooking the ingredients creating a smell only slightly different and more varied from one who cooked a lot with fresh, raw ingredients here in the magical world where everything was done over open fire.  The smell nearly masked the natural scent of a person, but made it far easier to smell them coming. He forced himself to relax at the familiar smell of potions, instead searching for the natural scents so that he knew it was who he thought it was.

     They took a seat on the bed beside him, the one on the other side of him then the Malfoy heir. For awhile they didn't move, just stared at him, their face most likely partially buried in their hands, fingers griping at their hair from the sound of their hands moving through their hair and cloth brushing against itself. Not a word was said, their breaths remained quiet and measured, but they were shaky, each one done with full awareness and strained control.

     Sometime before morning they left again, never having said anything, simply sat there, quietly, watching, and then left again with intentionally quiet steps further masked with magic. 

      What an odd man.