Chapter 59: Recovery

Sans had almost fallen off the scaffolding when he lunged forward, hand outstretched and straining. Part of that had been his own sudden desperation, and part of it was a physical yank when the dragon broke through his blue magic.

He could see small sparks of yellow and cyan dancing about the left side of his face, but he paid them no mind—at least it wasn't enough to warp his glamour, and beyond that he was in too much of a rush to try to be more subtle. On the arena below, a bare instant before the horned tail could skewer his young friend, magic coalesced into solid bone.

The Gaster Blaster held still, even when the dragon's attack slammed full speed into the cavity between its glowing eye sockets. Force of habit had magic building in an instant, white light crackling wordless threats from within its jaws.

Which was probably a bad idea.

After catching his breath—and his balance—Sans let the charge dissipate into nothingness. He'd summoned it as a shield this time, not a weapon. At least the handlers had finally managed to get some control of the dragon, even if it wasn't in time to help.

Too little, too late.

(Story of his life…)

The aggressive glow faded away, and he had the skull drift forward so the gathering faculty could get to the injured student. It was still placed firmly between Cassius and the Horntail, as a precaution against any other unexpected attacks, but otherwise it had served its purpose.

Sans slumped back onto the relative safety of the scaffolding. Or rather, he let Sirius pull him to firmer footing by the back of his robes. The whole thing had only taken a few seconds and he was already exhausted.

Actually, Sirius'd had some help pulling him back from the edge: Neville had a surprisingly iron-like grip on the skeleton's right wrist, and Luna similarly at his left shoulder. Hopefully the thickness of his robe-plus-hoodie sleeves kept the boy from noticing anything off about it, because Sans had been way too distracted to fill in his glamour with blue magic.

(Luna, of course, was already in-the-know on that particular point.)

"…Merlin's beard," Neville gasped, catching his breath. It was said with the sort of weight that suggested he wanted to use stronger words but just didn't have them. "Are you alright? And…" He looked down into the arena, where the hulking skull still hovered protectively. "What even is that? Who cast it? Is—"

The questions would have continued, in the haphazard manner they do when the asker is truly at a loss for what's going on, but he was cut off by a loud rocky crash. Finally subdued by the frantic handlers, the dragon had collapsed unconscious.

Luna distractedly brushed some of her pale hair back from her face, looking significantly more rattled and present than she usually did. "That was shocking, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely." Neville was still staring down at that improbable defense. "Do you think Warrington will be alright? And who could even transfigure… o-or summon something like that?"

"Oh, l have no idea," she replied, coming across—paradoxically—both slightly facetious and completely genuine. Managing a slight smile, she pointedly did not look at Sans.

But she—well, all three of them, really—did glance his way when he leaned forward again. Sans watched closely as Cassius was carefully moved to a conjured stretcher and taken from the stadium; no doubt the injured champion was headed for the medical tent, or maybe the Hospital Wing. Or both, sequentially.

He let out a heavy breath, and the Gaster Blaster below vanished.

"i have to go."

While Neville was plainly still on the back foot, trying to wrap his head around the apparent 'mystery' of what had happened, he rallied a bit at that statement. He could understand wanting to check on a friend.

"Alright, uhm, let me help you down." Neville scooted to the edge of the scaffolding, hesitated for a moment, then rallied and started his descent back to conventional seating.

Luna followed a moment later, accepting the offered support at the bottom rungs. Then the two of them looked back up to Sans just in time to catch the golden retriever…

Literally.

The dog had leapt down

Tail wagging and obviously hugely entertained, Sirius half-fell half-jumped onto the two unprepared students. It wasn't that far, thankfully, and nothing was really hurt in the collision. Except maybe some dignity—though, for the golden retriever, that had long since been left behind. The whole group had collapsed into a flailing, fluffy flomp.

"you guys are a mess," Sans remarked, and even his grim mood couldn't hold up entirely in the face of the laughing pile of humans-and-dog. "i think i'll take a detour."

The opposite side of the scaffolding led straight down, all the way to a patch of the grassy rock-strewn earth the stadium had been built over. It was also less of a detour and more of a shortcut—in the traditional sense—promising a faster route to get to the medical tent.

"Sans!"

He paused, glancing back over the side to see two worried faces. Sirius would have been there, but he'd already set off to find his own way out of the bleachers.

"Warrington… He'll be alright." Neville still had that nervous-embarrassed quality, but there was a reassuringly resolute glint in his eyes. "A-and I want to hear that he's alright, too. So… uhm, see you later."

That last bit was a little uncertain, almost a question.

Sans gave him a quick nod before ducking out of sight, not even wanting to think about what his illusion disguise was probably doing with his expression: he had a good poker face, generally, but he had to admit being nothing but bone had probably helped on that front.

Unable to risk a shortcut directly to the medical tent when there were so many people around, Sans basically just aimed for the ground first and had to walk the rest of the way.

A very quick walk.

He was not running—he was not built for running—but yeah, it was a little fast to be called a 'walk'.

Sans was struck by the very random thought that it had been a good idea to wear actual shoes today. As much as he enjoyed his fuzzy slippers, they were not designed for speed.

Even if he hadn't already scouted out the medical tent, Sans was pretty sure he would've been able to find it just from the tense magic hanging around the place. Some of which, he was concerned to notice, blended an oddly familiar sort of texture with a distinctly dark undertone.

He rounded the corner, and realized why.

Two increasingly irate adults were all but shouting down Professor Snape, his blank sneer doing a good job disguising his genuine distaste for having to deal with either of them. The witch had the grating tone of a woman used to being listened to for none of the right reasons, and the man at her side was no better.

So.

Those are Cassius's parents, then?

"I can't believe you're keeping me from the boy!" she shrilled. "Didn't you hear me? I. Am. His. Mother!"

"Mrs. Warrington, that does not change the fact—" Snape began, before he was cut off.

"He's mine!"

Presumed-to-be Mr. Warrington heaved a disappointed sigh. "That boy nearly ruined himself out there. If he's not dead, you don't need to coddle him." The man crossed his arms. "Step aside, Severus. This has gone on long enough."

Sans had slowed to a stop, looking between the three humans and considering what he should do about this turn of events. The best option would be to get them off school grounds entirely, but unfortunately that wasn't very likely.

Next best thing, however, would be to get them as far away from Cassius as manageable for as long as possible. That is: make them somebody else's problem.

"uhm…" He stepped forward, portraying as much nervous-kid energy as he could manage. "excuse me?"

"What?" snapped the witch, rounding on him.

"well, uh, are you warrington's parents?" It felt odd, using his last name like that—as if Cassius were a stranger.

"Indeed." The man sneered the single word, as if even claiming that relation was a burden.

Sans bit back unfamiliar anger and forged on. "because, you know, if you are, i overheard headmaster dumbledore, and he wants to speak with you."

"Well," the wizard puffed up, arrogant, "I should think so!"

Apparently the prospect of speaking with the headmaster of Hogwarts outweighed their desire to speak with their own injured son—though, to be fair, said son probably wasn't actually conscious at the moment. Still, the diversion worked wonderfully. With a goodbye that sounded more like a dismissal and a promise to return that felt like a threat, the two strode off in the vague direction of the judges' stand.

Which was good, because nobody here wanted to deal with them: Cassius probably least of all.

As soon as they both were out of sight, Sans let out a sigh. They were sure to be back eventually, but that's a problem for the future. One thing at a time.

Case and point, Professor Snape was regarding him with one of those worryingly inscrutable looks.

"Mr. Skelton," the potions master stated, his dark eyes narrowing with suspicion. "How… convenient."

Okay, so the professor definitely knew whole headmaster-chat thing had been made up on the spot. Sans just shrugged it off, and an uneasy silence descended between them. It had just been a little fib and some hammed up acting, so the depth of the wizard's well-hidden and watchful… well, watch, still felt out of place.

It was disconcerting.

Before either of them could decide how to proceed, the canvas entrance to the medical tent folded aside. Sans caught sight of curtained cots and a waft of potion smells before the fabric dropped back into place.

Madam Pomfrey returned her wand back to a thin pocket of her robes and set her hands on her hips. "You've managed to scare them off, I take it?"

"sent them the headmaster's way, ma'am," said Sans, cutting in before Professor Snape had a chance to reply.

She gave a low hum. "Well, good. I want to move Mr. Warrington to the Hospital Wing proper, but Merlin knows I wasn't going to try it with those… people hanging about."

It was pretty obvious that the witch had wanted to use a harsher word there, probably only correcting herself because of the 'impressionable student' present. But his amused grin didn't last long, as his thoughts returned to why he was here at all.

"is he…"

"Mr. Warrington is stable, though he hasn't woken up just yet," the mediwitch reassured. "He'll need to spend a few days in bed, resting, but he'll be fine."

Sans felt like a massive weight had just slipped off of his shoulders, though the darn thing fell straight onto his toes with a wave of guilt. The relief that Cassius would be alright just drove home the reminder that he shouldn't have been hurt in the first place.

But he had been, because Sans had failed—like he always did.

"You can come by this evening, he should be awake by then." That seemed a little too generous an offer, given her usual attitude towards visitors. Then she continued: "I can refill your appetite supplements then as well."

Ah, that explains it.

"but i…" he started, but quickly stalled out. There wasn't any real reason to make a big deal about it; he'd just keep sending the pills off to the trash anyway. "fine. i'll—"

"And don't bring your canine friend, please," she added, almost an afterthought as she turned to head back to her patient. "I run a hospital, not a petting zoo."

That wasn't going to go over well with the aforementioned canine friend, but then again… Sans kind of wanted to go by himself anyway. It was his fault, after all: for not being faster, for underestimating the draconic resistance to magic, for just plain falling short.

Going alone… it'd be for the best.

(He didn't deserve the support.)

Professor Snape gave him one last searching look—though who knows what he was looking for—before he pushed aside the fabric entrance and vanished into the tent as well.

Sans sighed, considering what he should do next for a long moment—whether to go the the castle, return to the stands, of just find a nice secluded corner somewhere and try not to think for an hour or two. That last actually sounded pretty appealing, but the sound of paws scrambling on the pebbled path behind him cut off that plan.

"hey, paddy." Sans sighed. "no visitors 'til later, i'm afraid. they're moving him into the castle soon-ish."

The golden-retriever-wizard was panting, no doubt because he'd just been running full-tilt to actually catch up with him, but he still managed an affirmative snort.

Deciding he might as well head to the castle now, Sans set off in that direction. And paused when Sirius—unsurprisingly—fell into step beside him, tail up but not quite wagging.

"you know, you don't have to come with me," he said. "you have your kid to check in on, anyway."

Sirius did seem momentarily conflicted by that, looking toward the stadium for a few seconds before turning back to his friend with a decisive huff.

"…i thought you still didn't really like cass."

The dog rolled his eyes.

"even though he's a slytherin?"

At that, Sirius sneezed—shaking his head rather forcefully—and gave Sans a distinctly insulted look. Very clear doggish for 'I am not that bad, how rude of you to suggest such a thing'.

Sans just raised a brow. And… Okay, so he was being a bit unfair, he knew that; his wizard friend may have been cold to the green-robed student at the start, but he had improved a lot in the months since.

Sirius maintained his nose-in-the-air affronted attitude for another moment, but he had to concede the point at least a little bit. Even so, a small bark assured that he no longer considered Cassius to be a quote-unquote 'slimy snake'.

"here, i'll take the decision out of your paws," Sans started, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. "the nurse lady specifically told me not to bring a dog into her hospital."

Said dog considered that with a petulant expression. There wasn't anything Sirius could do about that, except perhaps—

"and no, paddy," he cut in quickly, shaking his head with amusement. Some more of the guilty edge to his smile wore away. "i'm not gonna give you your hat just for a visit."

The tilt of Sirius's ears was a plain disagreement, obstinate, before they abruptly flicked forward as something occurred to him. He stamped down one forepaw with a smug-sounding huff, barking twice.

Well, shoot. True enough—Sirius had already visited the Hospital Wing as a dog with no issues. Which could have been sheer dumb luck, evading the attention of the strict nurse, but the point still stood.

That point apparently being: it's only illegal if you're caught.

Sans sighed. "alright, alright, let sneaking dogs lie and all that."

The dog-wizard gave a small howl, triumphant, and Sans managed a slightly real smile. Regardless of what had happened, and whatever happens next, at least this was behind them.

Cassius was alright—or at least, would be alright.

The first task was over.

Now, it was just time to recover from it.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Meet the Warringtons (but just briefly, thankfully)

Updates are on the first of the month (or as soon as I can manage). I might have been able to make it this time, gosh darn it, but alas, I kinda sorta nodded off at my laptop for a bit there. Oh well.
As always, thanks for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews! I really appreciate all the support!

Join the Discord if you're interested! Invite code: m3CFXnC

Guest: Last I checked, the site actually removes text that looks even vaguely like a URL. Anything with slashes or dots without spaces, it just straight up deletes, and other stuff it seems to auto-format in weird ways. You can try to get around that by typing out some formatting, like writing out "dot" wherever there should be a period, but it's a lot of work and still messes up sometimes. Plus, you can't copy text straight off of the story in some browsers, so I just don't think it's really worth it.
As for the Roberts family, they have no real frame of reference for 'wizard normal' and are largely still reeling from the whole 'magic is real' revelation. So while they are confused and maybe even did notice that Sans doesn't seem to be a typical magical, they probably wouldn't press the issue.

Bernadette: When it comes to writing more into a scene, I think the best advice I ever got was to consider all of your senses. Even if you don't include something for each sense (taste can be out of place a lot of the time), it can help you put yourself in the setting and maybe pick up more bits to include to refine the area.
For example, say you're describing a forest. It's probably green, with a lot of trees. But is it muggy, or clear and crisp? Can you all but taste the rich soil when you breath in, or does it smell more like grass and leaves? What sounds are the branches making, and what does the wind feel like? That sort of thing. Always ask yourself questions.
Okay, somewhat ironically (or is it just appropriate in this case?) I feel I've rambled a bit here. You can always tune into the Discord if you want to chat about it more!

Stay safe, and see ya on the flipside, everyone!