Unlikely Savior – Chapter 4 (Accident?)

Desmond hadn't hesitated in Fire Calling Minerva to let her know that Harry Potter was sleeping in his spare room. The woman had a resigned look on her face, and he knew that whatever talk she had with the Gryffindors had not gone well. Was it truly a wise thing to send Harry back to Gryffindor Tower?

"I'll let him go back to the Tower if he wishes, Minerva. But I don't foresee it being a good thing. From what I saw last night, they don't see him as a Gryffindor. It is likely that in their minds, he has betrayed his house. I may not be a Gryffindor, Slytherin, or whatever house here. But I do know that their house is supposed to show loyalty and devotion to their own. And he will not have that here," Desmond said.

Desmond could see the anger from Minerva, but it wasn't for what he was saying. It was because she knew it was true and that she had failed as Head of Gryffindor House.

"Do what you can, Desmond. If Mr. Potter does return to Gryffindor Tower, I'll see what I can do. But I fear you may be right and Godric would be ashamed."

Desmond had nodded and ended the Fire Call. Though he did occasionally check on Harry before sleeping himself. But had woken up before Harry had stirred. He had always been an early riser, more out of habit than anything.

It hadn't been long before Harry started to wake up and realized he didn't know where he was. His ankle wound up getting caught in the blanket before falling to the floor, hard.

Desmond had immediately heard the thump and darted around to see what happened. Though he couldn't help the snicker at the sight.

"You?!" Harry said, when he actually looked up. His face was a little red.

Desmond helped untangle his foot, "I don't think I quite introduced myself before. I'm Desmond Miles."

Harry shook his head, "you helped me yesterday? Why?"

"Did you really expect me to allow someone who didn't even enter the tournament be signed up to be killed? The tournament is dangerous for a reason." Desmond crossed his arms.

"Everyone else would," Harry said it like a fact. "Wait? You actually believe that I didn't?" Dumbledore had even believed he did. Though he couldn't believe that Desmond had gone to his defense like he had. He didn't even know the guy. Nobody but his grandmother had gone to his defense. He had even gone against Snape and made him eat his own words.

"Then I'm not everyone and everyone seems to be a fool. And, of course I do! I have actually studied about the Goblet of Fire. There is not a simple way to fool it, it takes years of dedicated study. It is supposed to be impossible."

Harry slumped at that, of course it would be hopeless. Even one of the Ministry officials had said as much. He didn't want to die at fifteen.

"That does not mean you will not be defenseless either," Desmond brought up.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Because I'm going to make sure you survive," Desmond said.

Desmond already knew that the TriWizard Tournament was not going to be easy. So, he was trying to convey that to Harry. There had been a reason on why his school refused to host it ever again.

Which had been a little hard to do at first, because like most, they had heard something of the tournament.

"How can you promise a thing like that? I'm not a fool, I know that most of the champions have died from these tasks," Harry had outburst.

"Because, unlike all the other champions, you and I are different from the others. Which I am going to turn into our favor," Desmond said.

"Different? How?" Harry was confused.

"What are your parents? What is your grandmother? It lives in your blood," Desmond said.

Harry gapped at him, "you too? But I'm not one, I've never been able to."

"That does not mean you don't have the ability. But as far as your grandmother and me are concerned, you don't have to live that life. But that doesn't mean you don't have some of the abilities. Have you ever thought of why you are more agile than most kids your age? You are able to sense things before something happens?" Desmond asked.

Harry was quiet for a moment, "I never thought about it like that." Then he realized something.

"What do you mean you and my grandmother? You've spoken to her?" Harry questioned suddenly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Of course, she speaks of you quite frequently," Desmond smirked.

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

"You really didn't think that she would leave you defenseless where you have Death Eaters that want to kill you?"

Harry blinked, "wait… you're the precaution she mentioned that she was working on… Aren't you?"

Desmond nodded. He didn't say on why Dorea had probably wanted him transferred here. He had an idea on why she had been the one to ask for him first. She wouldn't be the first one to hear about his escape from the Templars. It usually didn't happen, because if you were kidnapped by them, you were killed. That had been their intention, but he had been one step ahead of them. He still thought it was all due to luck, but he was still thankful. Though he wondered if part of the reason was because he was close to Harry's age, it would be easier to befriend the Gryffindor.

"It certainly helps that my school hosted the tournament several years ago," Desmond commented.

"I thought they discontinued it?" Harry asked, confused.

"For England," Desmond corrected.

"Will I know what the first task is?" Harry asked. Nobody had even told them about what it would be.

Desmond frowned, "I am still waiting on a response. You'll know when I do."

"Isn't that against the rules? You work for the Ministry?"

Desmond shrugged, "I was asked to help them. But I'm not really with the Ministry."

"But Dumbledore—"

"Sees what I want him to," Desmond cut in.

"How come you don't like him?" Harry asked.

"Ask yourself that. You saw the response he had when someone entered your name," Desmond replied.

Harry bit his lip softly.

"You are smart, Harry. Take the time to think these things through. Look at all the angles. You need to think like a Black instead of a Potter. Look at all the players, not just yourself."

Harry fluttered his eyes shut, as if remembering what happened. Trying to take Desmond's words to heart and see if he was lying.

"He didn't seem shocked when my name came out…" he mused as he thought back to the moment the fourth parchment shot out of the flames. He remembered freezing up.

"McGonagall had jumped from her seat in the silence. I heard Hagrid keep saying no while shaking his head. Even Snape seemed unnerved for a moment…" his voice trailed off in thought as he actively tried to remember back on every interaction he had with the old headmaster.

His grandma had always been wary of the old man, blaming him for James and Lily's death, for recruiting them into the Order straight from Hogwarts at eighteen. Harry had never really understood this but hadn't argued against her about it either. He was too grateful that he was no longer living at the Dursleys. He knew he was unwanted at the Dursleys and he hated them for it. But now, he actually had someone that cared and loved him. But now, he could start to understand why his grandma didn't like the headmaster. Wasn't it his grandma that had rescued him and not Dumbledore? And wasn't it Desmond that came to his defense about the tournament where Dumbledore had been more accusing?

So, maybe Desmond and his grandma did have a point about this.

Looking back, Desmond hadn't expected to come out and tell Harry that his grandmother had basically had him watching him. Almost like a babysitter or bodyguard. But Harry had never been offended by it, more relieved? No, that couldn't be right? Could it?

He hadn't even asked on how his years had been before this year. Was it possible that Harry had more run ins with people who wanted to kill him? That would definitely be something he needed to ask about later. But he still didn't expect to tell Harry that he was an Assassin. When he had planned to talk to Harry, he originally wanted him to trust him. But Dorea had come up and perhaps that had been a good thing. That way, he wouldn't be considered a stranger to Harry. If she hadn't come up, Desmond doubted he would ever tell Harry.

But Harry had gone off to classes and he had attended a few himself. Some of them were while invisible others were not. Everyone was obviously hyped about the tournament and what to expect.

But something Desmond had been keeping an eye out for were the other houses. He wasn't too worried about Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. They were more concerned about Dumbledore's actions or lack of really. What he found wasn't surprising. Though he wished it was.

Just like when Harry's name came out of the Goblet, people were furious about it. They were not thrilled that Hogwarts had two champions to bring their house honor. He was viewed as a traitor to their school. On why it wasn't fair that Harry Potter could be a champion and they couldn't. If Desmond could curse them, he would have. Did Deadly Tournament not mean a thing to them?

There was not a single word said about what if Harry died. It was obvious to him, but was that because he knew they might have happened? He didn't know, but he was damned if he left this person get away with it.

He was still expecting a letter soon, so he hoped that he may get some news about the first task. He had promised Harry that after all. The rules be damned.

Desmond knew all about the supposed rules to follow for the tournament, not like they were followed anyways. Every Headmaster cheated so they could win. This tournament would be no different. But Desmond wouldn't cheat to win, he was doing it so Harry could survive. This wasn't about winning. Which is why that letter would be vital and patience was not his virtue at the moment.

They still had another month before the task would start. But that also meant less time for Desmond to try to teach Harry all that he could. He couldn't wait until this tournament was over.

It was those thoughts that were in mind as Desmond made his way to Minerva's classroom. She had wanted him there to help whatever class it was. They were going to cover the Vanishing Spell, which was more of a revision. He hadn't been far from the classroom; his rooms were only one floor above.

But apparently, he had gotten there too early, because there were students leaving the classroom.

"Desmond," Minerva greeted. "I trust all is well?"

He shrugged, "it be better if I heard something by now…"

"Even you know that there are times we must wait," Minerva commented.

Desmond rolled his eyes, even though he knew that she was right.

"How is he handling it?" Minerva finally asked.

"He was in a state of shock, which I wasn't surprised by. He knows that I believe him, which the rest of the school seems to believe the opposite. I doubt there will be any doubt there until they have been given one. Though he knows who I am," Desmond admitted.

Minerva's lips thinned, "there isn't much I can change about that. Dumbledore refuses to see reason as well."

"And that surprises you?" Desmond replied.

Minerva's lips twitched, "no, it doesn't. But given the state of things, I had hoped he would see some sense. This doesn't just concern Hogwarts, but we have other schools here as well. We have a student's life that could be in peril. But as his Head of House, I can't be seen helping."

"Leave that to me," Desmond said as the students started to come into the classroom.

There were no stares as the students were used to Desmond being at the front of the class with Professor McGonagall. He had even aided in some of her lessons as well.

But Desmond's attention was no longer on the professor. It was the students, or the lack of. The class was filled with Gryffindors and Slytherins. But there was a Gryffindor missing, one that alarmed Desmond.

He may not really know Harry entirely well, but he hadn't seen him ever miss a class. Especially not Transfiguration. There was something wrong and he needed to find out what. His eyes glanced over to Minerva.

She shared a worried look.

Desmond didn't say a word, he just nodded before leaving the room. It was once out of the room that he tried to focus. Eagle Vision didn't really work well if he was distracted.

Taking a calm breath, Desmond closed his eyes before concentrating. From being in Harry's presence, it wasn't hard to memorize his signature. That in mind, Desmond opened his eyes.

Everything faded into black and white. He looked down on the floor and didn't see anything. That mean he needed to go up. There weren't any recent footprints from Harry. It was a matter of going down the corridor and reading the stairs.

It was while going towards the staircase that he noticed something. It was while walking up that gold started to fill his vision. They went as far as the fourth floor? But the steps were going towards the second floor.

He frowned and decided to see what direction Harry may have gone. Though there were drips of something with the footprints. Desmond let himself become unfocused and then saw what it was.

Blood.

His blood went cold at the sight. He didn't care, he needed to see what was down the second-floor corridor. He didn't even need to follow the gold footprints in Eagle Vision. He could follow the blood trail easily. It was becoming heavier with each step and Desmond didn't like that.

He knew his rooms were further down the hall before he saw a body that was slumped. He didn't even walk, he ran.

The raven hair was unmistakable. He crouched down; he could vanish the blood later. It was once he had a properly look, he noticed everything.

Harry had a busted lip, and his leg was angled the wrong way. Broken perhaps. There were scratches all over his face and it looked like there was a dark bruise by his eye. But the worst of it was from his head, it was dripping blood, which would explain why there had been a blood trail. His form was trembling, pain perhaps? Or was it fear?

Desmond slid his arms under Harry's knees and scooped him up. His head was now resting on his chest. He could feel the shaking limbs and breath. Was Harry still conscious. Then his felt something wet.

Tears.

"Knew you'd come…" was the faint whisper.

Desmond strengthened his hold over Harry before walking to where his rooms were. He didn't care for the tears or the blood that would stain his robes.

It was once he whispered the password that Desmond made his way to the couch. He was able to lay Harry down and noticed he was no longer conscious.

He would eventually need to find where Harry had come from before he had made his way to the second floor. Though he had been surprised that Harry had tried to find him. Why else would he be going to the second floor and so close to his rooms. He hadn't thought that the Gryffindor trusted him that much. But first needed to know of the damage.

A diagnostic spell wasn't hard to cast. It was one of the first things he had learned in healing. He wouldn't say he was a professional, but he did have a couple years worth of knowledge.

His eyes slowly glanced over the parchment that was writing things down.

"Burns, concussion, broken leg," Desmond muttered to himself.

The busted lip was easy to heal after he vanished the blood.

"Episkey," Desmond whispered.

He had some burn paste in his bedroom. Though he may have to brew something to help with the bruising, that could be painful to heal sometimes. Though it was lucky that Harry was unconscious as he would have to reset his leg. Reverse Knee curse was probably the cause. Regrowing the bones would be painful but not as much as reversing the curse. But it was the concussion that worried Desmond the most. Harry had obviously hit it against something. A wall or floor perhaps? He would need to investigate where the incident may have occurred.

Knowing to start with the worst, Desmond cast the counter for the Knee Reversal curse.

He heard the whimper of pain that came from Harry and never felt gladder that he wouldn't be conscious for that. He would have to spell some of the potion into his stomach until he woke up. If he hadn't been notorious for injuring himself, he may not have at that potion on hand. There wasn't much, but it would be enough for this. But at least his leg wasn't angled wrong anymore.

Not wanting to, but Desmond drew himself away from Harry and darted to his room. He made haste on grabbing the potions he needed. He would need to make some bruise paste, but that could be done later.

Nonverbally did Desmond spell the Skele-Grow into Harry stomach. His eyes narrowed when he heard a sharp cough, but Harry did not wake. The Knee Reversal curse would have broken his bones and he didn't want them to start healing wrong. The Skele-Grow would help repair those bones. He had enough broken bones through his short life to know that. Tasted horrible, but at least the potion helped.

He dipped his fingers into the burn paste before gently smearing it onto the burns on Harry's face and hands. They didn't look too severe, but they would be painful later on if left untreated.

It was the head that worried Desmond the most. He vanished the blood and there was bruising on the back of his head. He also seen the cut which probably caused the bleeding. He quickly healed it. It had looked like a minor cut, but that didn't mean it was.

It looked like the danger was over, but that didn't mean it was.

Not wanting to move Harry from the couch, he transfigured it into a bed. He didn't want to cause any further harm to the injury. But maybe he needed to Fire Call Minerva. Maybe she could keep an eye on Harry while he went to see if there was an indicator on what happened.