Phœnix Burning, Chapter 23
Last Chapter...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?"
Harry glanced back over his shoulder and barely managed to swallow a curse. It was Madame Pomfrey, and she did not look amused. And Madame Pomfrey on a rampage was one step below Voldemort.
"Oh, you know, the usual," he said at length, somewhat distractedly. Blood rushed in his ears as his magic thrummed; what was it trying to tell him? He frowned, focusing on the tingling in his fingers, trying to concentrate.
"What do you mean, the usual?!"
Harry ignored her, as he was walking, trance-like, towards the senseless Potions Master. He had the odd, thrilling impulse to run his fingers over the man's wounds, and by now he knew better than to ignore the magic bubbling under his skin. He paused by the bedside.
Madame Pomfrey was approaching. "What are you doing?"
Slender fingers were brushing, light as butterflies' wings, over the cuts and welts, sapphire fire trailing in their wake. And the wounds were healing, closing, the Dark residue dying away into nothing. Snape shuddered, lips parting slightly, and leaned into the touch with a little huff of air. "Healing him," Harry replied, ever so quietly. "I think Mr. Malfoy needs treatment for the crucitus, though..."
Madame Pomfrey stared. Then, abruptly, she exploded into gear, diagnosing and treating a still somewhat jumpy Lucius Malfoy and mothering a still shellshocked Draco. She had nearly finished with her treatment of the Malfoys, still trying to put a name to the half-familiar face that had taken control of her hospital wing when she heard the shuddering gasp of Severus waking up.
She was instantly by the bed, ready to interfere the instant the stranger finished whatever healing magic he was doing; she would have stopped him in the middle, but that had the potential to be still more dangerous.
Harry was ignoring her, or, more properly put, he had hardly seen her in the first place. Magic was thrumming along the bond with the healing flowing through his fingers, and Snape's chaotic, awakening mind was making his own head ache painfully. "Merlin, professor," he gasped at last, visibly making an effort to focus, "are you always like this when you wake up?"
"It is simply that your imbecilic mind cannot tolerate my intelligence," Snape muttered, still half awake. For him, the insult was almost a form of affection, and Harry's lips curved upwards unbidden.
Harry stroked light fingers across the man's skin again, tracing the last few wounds and causing the Potions Master to shiver. "How do you feel?"
"I feel as though I've been trampled by a hippogryph- what do you expect after a torture session?" Snape said almost sulkily. "And- what in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"Healing you," Harry replied resolutely.
Snape's black eyes narrowed. "Madame Pomfrey can get it from here- last time you tried to heal me you very nearly incinerated me. And I don't want any more...surprises."
"I don't think-"
"No, you don't- you never think! You bloody teleported into the Dark Lord's main stronghold and out with passengers!" Madame Pomfrey stared, wand slipping from her nerveless fingers to clatter on the smooth white floor and roll away. "Did it even occur to you that he might have had anti-animagus wards up? Had you even ever flashed with a passenger before? And now you're practicing more untested, experimental magic on me?"
Harry winced. "If I hadn't tried 'experimental magic', as you put it, you'd be dead!" he snapped at last. "So would Draco and Lucius Malfoy."
"And we wouldn't be bloody mindlinked!" the Potions Master thought furiously, and then, out loud: "Are they ok?"
"I assume so."
"You assume?"
"I was kinda busy saving your arse, professor," Harry said, letting his magic soak into Snape's body, mending it, letting a power as warm and soothing as hot chocolate trickle into the air around them. Unnoticed by either wizard, a faint golden glow was beginning to shimmer between and around the two of them. Lucius Malfoy, the only one in the room who knew what that entailed, drew a sharp breath.
Snape flushed at the mention of his rescue, his thoughts muttering about being saved by a child, because he was too stupid to help himself. That is until Harry slapped him. "Don't think like that, you were taken by surprise, that's all! You think mum would want you beating yourself up for letting down your guard for approximately five seconds? It's not a crime to need help, professor."
The glow strengthened ever so slightly. Snape stared at him, black eyes wide with emotion- at first anger, and then, maybe, something else. "I...Harry..." Three simultaneous gasps sounded in the hospital wing, as Madame Pomfrey and Lucius Malfoy discovered the identity of the mysterious youth and Draco heard his godfather call the hated Gryffindor by his first name.
Harry smiled a little. "Relax. Last I checked, you just came back from a torture session."
"Don't remind me," Snape shifted on the bed, rumpling the sheets as he tried to get comfortable. He paused. "You do need to learn to think things through before you plunge in like a bloody Gryffindor!" he said at last. "You don't know what the implications of your new powers are, nor do you know your limits. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days!"
"Yes professor," said Harry cheekily, green gaze sparkling with warmth. "You do realize that I am a Gryffindor though?"
"You never let me forget it," the Potions Master grumped. "Speaking of, twenty points from Gryffindor for going on a stupid, dangerous rescue mission."
Harry pouted playfully. "You love me anyway."
"Impossible brat," Snape responded, lips twitching. "Only you would be so blase about snatching a traitor out from under Tommy's nose, with a magical animagus form, and then healing me wandlessly."
"Well, when you put it that way..."
At that moment, Madame Pomfrey seemed to shake off her stupor. "I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that I'm still the mediwitch. So while this is quite touching, would you mind pausing your conversation until I can scan Professor Snape?"
Harry jumped back with a squeak that he would later fervently deny. "Yes Madame Pomfrey, sorry," he said obediently, moving over so that she could pass her wand over the prostrate Potions Master.
Madame Pomfrey waved her wand, muttering an unfamiliar spell, and then pressed the tip of her wand onto a piece of parchment. Slowly, ink bled from the tip, steadily forming line after line of text. By the fifth line, the mediwitch was frowning. By the tenth, her eyes were very wide. Her eyes widened still further as the paper began to extend, growing inch after inch. It was a full ten minutes before it even began to slow down, and another five before it stopped. As soon as it stopped, she picked it up and began to read, emotions whiplashing across her face the farther she read, making the occational comment: "No history past the last two days" "not possible!" "he should be dead" "liquidation curse" "punctured lung" "How is he even alive?" and "how is the crucitus damage marked healed?
Still frowning, she put down the paper and began performing a different scan, wand moving in elegant loops while Snape did his best to keep still.
This time the paper was emitted directly from the end of her wand, and it, too, kept on growing, although it took a substantially lower time than the other. Madame Pomfrey let it grow as long as it would, and finally, when it stopped, picked it up and started reading it. This time, her reaction was more drastic. As in, her eyes popped out of her head and she squeezed the paper so tightly that it crunched in her sweaty hands.
She opened her mouth for a moment, and then closed it, rendered speechless by whatever she had read. Finally she seemed to gain control of herself. "Severus," she said in an odd, half angry, half shocked trembling voice, "Is there something you'd like to explain?"
AN: Haha, yes, another cliffy- I'm evil! What do you think she saw that made her react like this? And what is Harry's phœnix power doing now?
