Phœnix Burning, Chapter 22

They stayed in the dazzling blue of the void between Riddle Manor and the hospital wing far longer than Harry had ever stayed before. The silence was absolute, and the sapphire magic seemed to swirl around and through them, bathing and filling them with its oppressive, awesome* beauty. Harry's eyes began to ache, and his whole body started to tremble with the exertion of keeping his passengers with him during the transit. He was almost afraid...and that was when he reappeared, once again, in the hospital wing, his elegant body sprawled over Professor Snape's unconscious body, and with two defecting Death Eaters hanging off of him.

Harry couldn't move for a long moment; his entire body felt the same sort of lazy bliss as if he had been sunbathing on some tropical coastline, and the stress, not of overexhausting his magic, but of trying to control too much, was starting to wear on his borrowed form. At length, however, he realized that every second he deliberated Snape didn't get treatment, and that the Malfoys would probably need anticrucitus. With a supreme effort of will, he stirred from his place on top of Snape and fluttered to an unobstructed spot on the floor where he shifted back, nerves singing with phœnix magic.

He lost no time kneeling beside his erstwhile Defense Teacher, checking his pulse. What if the flaming had killed him! But no, Snape's pulse was strong as ever, if a little faster from stress, and Harry's phœnix instincts knew he would be ok. Although he was definitely giving him medical attention.

Harry sat back on his heels for an instant to think, and then heaved the unconscious Potions Master onto one of the hospital beds. Then, knowing Snape would not be pleased if he were to cut away his teaching robes, he busied himself with the tiny black buttons and high collar, loosening the garments until they were part way off.

And that was when it hit him. To be sure, Snape was injured, but the bruises were yellowing and almost healed, and several angry red lines denoted what had clearly been nasty cuts only a few hours earlier. Harry frowned, wishing he knew any of Madame Pomfrey's diagnostics. He stopped to think. He was about to fetch one of Madame Pomfrey's medical books, or the witch herself, when one of those curious feelings that he had been having ever since he became an animagus washed over him, and he stopped, mid-step.

It was so faint he might have missed it, had he not been growing hyper attuned to his so-called instincts. He closed his eyes. Suddenly, a chaotic swirl of faint images battered at the edges of his consciousness. Five poisons, one of which had been neutralized and two of the others being well on their way. Six temporary torturing potions, four of which were being leeched from his system as their effects had expired. Some nasty cutting curses, some physical damage, bruises from bludgeoning hexes. Several welts and burns. All the bones in his left hand crushed. His liver, also, had run afoul of a liquidation curse, but there didn't seem to be any damage that a finite incantem and a mild healing spell couldn't fix. What on earth?!

"Accio dittany, tincture of witch hazel, and murtlap salve," he said, struggling furiously to remember what he knew, and what he had learned from Snape's mind. He was not willing to deal with any internal damage on his own, but he wanted to help with the scrapes and welts. The bottles at once flew into his hand, and he began cleaning the cuts with Wizarding antiseptic and healing cream, then plastering the welts with soothing murtlap, occasionally summoning bandages or more first aid potions. It did not even register that he had not actually drawn his wand.

Once Professor Snape had been stabilized, Harry for the first time realized that he wasn't alone in the hospital wing, and that Madame Pomfrey was supposed to be there.

Lucius Malfoy had his wand in hand, and was looking around the hospital wing as though expecting to be attacked, wary grey eyes following Harry's every move. Draco was sitting on a bed, simply in shock. Harry sighed. He couldn't just patch Snape up and let them suffer, could he.

"Accio calming drought, accio anticrucitus!" Harry called distractedly. Two bottles flew into his hand. Harry met Mr. Malfoy's eye. "Catch!" he called, and Lucius, still staring at him, plucked the little brown bottle out the ease of a seeker. "Two spoonfuls ought to work to start," continued Harry, not even sure how he knew that. Then he walked towards the bed Draco was sitting on.

"Malfoy?" He said hesitantly.

No answer.

"Draco, look, you need to drink this."

Draco gave him a vacant stare, evidently in shock. Harry didn't blame him. He did not, however, want to deal with trying to get the catatonic Slytherin to drink the calming draught, so at last he simply pressed the lip of the flask to his lips, tipped his head back, and poured the cool fluid down his throat, before starting to stroke his throat as one might a cat.

And that was when he felt the cold wood of a wand pressed to his throat.

He reacted instantly, without stopping to think. In a moment, Lucius Malfoy lay bound at his feet, and the almost-empty calming draught bottle rolled across the floor, trailing the remnants of its contents.

"What the Hell, Malfoy? I could have killed you!"

Lucius Malfoy stared up at him balefully, and not without fear. "I could say the same. What were you giving my son?" he asked tightly.

Harry was so surprised he nearly dropped his wand. "A calming draught, Malfoy, he was going into shock. You think I would go to the trouble of saving your arses just so I could poison him?" He paused, rather surprised by his own boldness- he'd just freaking addressed Lucius Malfoy like an equal. Then he sighed. "I-sorry. It's been a long week." He raised his wand. "I trust that you will at least not hex me until I've finished patching you guys up?"

Lucius nodded unwillingly, and Harry allowed the bonds to dissolve.

And that was when a strident voice issued from the entrance to the hospital wing. "May I ask what, exactly, is going on in my hospital wing?"

* I actually mean "inspiring awe", thank you very much.