Word Count: 3,233
Former Word Count: 3,638
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What Might Be Called an Emergency
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[September 2, 1994 :: 70 kilometres from Altair Institute of Magic]
"Azalea!" the girls shouted in unison, the explosive hex Susan used blasting a tree towards the manticore. The manticore's triumph turned to rage as branches crashed into it's massive side, barely missing Azalea's already injured body as she rolled to the side, crawling to her feet and staggering towards her friends.
By some miracle, the manticore had turned all its attention to shredding the fallen tree of its bark and leaves, and as its massive claws sent clouds of dust and splinters into the air in a haze of brown. By the time Hannah managed to pull Azalea to her feet, dragging her along down the trail, the injured girl was coughing violently in addition to the bloody mess of her leg.
"Fuck," Azalea wheezed as Susan grabbed her other side and they rushed down the trail. "Holy fuck. Why—" she hacked out a cough and a cry of pain. "It's distra—" she stumbled, "—acted."
"Doesn't matter," Susan near-shouted, practically carrying her down the trail, "Hannah—"
"I can't do anything while we're moving!"
"Just go!" Azalea demanded weakly, "My leg —fuck— hurts, have to—" she gasped for breath, "—keep going!"
"Your leg is black!"
"And we'll be dead!" Azalea shouted, the rest of her response cutting off into a muffled cry as something brushed against the gash in her thigh, sending dark black globs of poison mixed with her bright red blood dripping down her leg.
They kept moving. Hannah and Susan alternated in supporting Azalea as they jogged down the trail, and with every minute Azalea looked worse. By the time they stopped, her eyes were rimmed red and crusty, and her skin looked as if it had been drained of all its vitality. Her leg had, in fact, blackened; the veins seemed polluted by the much darker poison, and the sickly shade had spread to cover most of her thigh, and it was spreading downward.
"Azalea, I can't—" Hannah babbled, wand hovering over her friend as she cast diagnostic spell after healing spell. "I can't help you! If we don't get— Azalea, if we don't get to Altair soon you'll die!"
"Sounds—" Azalea trembled, teeth chattering violently. Her entire body was shivering uncontrollably as the fever set in quickly. "Sounds about right, Han," she said. "I have—ugh. I have more time than you think, though. I've got— minor—" she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to refocus. "Poison resistance. From the— the basilisk."
"The basilisk?" Hannah asked shrilly. "What basilisk?"
Azalea and Susan winced in unison, sharing a pained glance, though Azalea's was much more prominently miserable.
"It— it doesn't matter." Susan said decisively, taking over. "What does is that it'll probably keep her alive longer. Typically it's what, three to six hours until death?" Azalea nodded weakly, and Susan barreled on. "Azalea will probably have maybe seven, eight? We still need to hurry, obviously, but… it's more."
Hannah was looking at her with horrified eyes, and Luna looked just as worried, fretting with her clothes even as she recast the scent-concealing and muffling spells she'd kept up their entire way.
"Look, Hannah; they aren't going to let her die. I don't believe that they'll let her die." Susan said surely. "We just need to keep going. Az clearly isn't going to be awake much longer," she continued over Azalea's weak protests, "but we are. We have to keep going. You know a stretcher spell, right? We'll support Azzie as far as we can, and then we'll carry her magically. We have to. It'll be fine."
Azalea nodded in agreement, reaching out a hand in an attempt to reassure Hannah, "You did the best you could to heal me," she said. "I'm not bleeding everywhere anymore, right? This is hardly the worst thing that's happened to me."
Susan scoffed; "No, that had to be the hundred dementors. Or maybe the basilisk? Werewolf? Triwizard Tournament? Dragon? Oh, Azalea, I could go on."
They all laughed at the weak attempt at humor, though Azalea's tapered off into a pained cringe. Hannah watched her warily for a moment, eyeing her injured leg, and rifled around in her bag until she found a pain-relief potion.
"At this rate, I'm going to have to speed through Healing classes to prevent you from killing yourself." she admonished.
"Yeah, yeah," Azalea said, drinking the potion with the ease of familiarity, "I appreciate it."
…
/ What the actual fuck just happened? / Reid asked. / Who the— a basilisk? A hundred dementors? Dragons? Did I miss this memo about her? Gabel, this is something you'd mention, right? /
/ I didn't know about any of it. / Gabel, the man who seemed to know everything about anyone, replied.
/ Undocumented, then? / Reid said skeptically. / And what's this about her dying. Do we worry about that? /
/ Where the fuck did the manticore come from is my question. / someone added. / I sure as hell didn't know it was there. /
/ What we do about one of them getting poisoned by the manticore is mine. / Marcus replied. / Can they reliably get to school that quickly? What, do we intervene? /
\ Children. \ a very old voice interrupted their conversation. The measured tone of their headmaster sounded simultaneously admonishing and amused. \ We are hardly about to let the little Savior-girl die. When she starts hallucinating; Lorenzo and Strelem, you will take her to the infirmary. Healer Vesalien is prepared to treat mid and late stage manticore poisoning. Do not interfere otherwise. Other Lorenzo, should that happen, you will inform the rest of her safety and ensure none of them die. We haven't any reason to upset the Hogwarts students this early on, now do we? \
/ Yessir. / Reid agreed immediately, though he was the only one with the mental awareness to do so, even as he too shook his head as if to clear it of the ancient's overwhelming presence.
/ I hate it when he does that. / someone said. / Fucking vampires melting people's brains. /
/ That was miserable. / Reagan agreed. / Did he say which Lorenzo was doing what? Because I call dibs on hauling Potter to the infirmary. /
/ Damnit, Reagan, I was going to say that. / Marcus grouched. / Fine, fine. Can we talk about all these 'adventures' she's apparently had though? I can't believe— /
/ Sorry to interrupt your people-watching, boys. Have you seen the news? / Sei interrupted urgently. / You really need to see the news. /
…
They didn't rest for long, only allowing themselves the time to eat and drink and watch Hannah splint and wrap Azalea's leg. It wasn't hardly enough for her to walk on her own, not with the way she trembled and sweat with fever, but with the support of Hannah and Susan as crutches they managed to limp along down the trail. Luna, too small to be of much help physically supporting them, meandered on beside them while keeping her wand out prepared to defend them magically. It was necessary, given Azalea —their typical heavy hitter— was now half-delirious and injured, and their second best witch was hauling her down the trail.
Even under the influence of a very strong pain-relief potion, Azalea's leg still burned. Not the part where the manticore's barb had punctured her, no. That had gone entirely numb a near hour ago, but as the pumped its way slowly through her veins, it seeped into her muscles. Her entire leg was a mess of dark veins and splotchy, discolored skin.
Azalea's never seen a manticore wound before but… with the way she felt she's not surprised there's a tiny survival rate. She hadn't been certain about her numbers— how would she even guess exactly how much longer it would take for her to die? —but the healers back at St. Mungo's had said there were some very strange things going on with her immune system. They also told her to be light on the magic she used until well into winter, though, and… she definitely had not been.
But, regardless of the details, she wasn't about to go back on what she said and freak Hannah out— they couldn't do anything about anything! Their current pace towards Altair was fast when you couldn't even walk on your own. Azalea complaining about every step feeling like the manticore was stabbing her again certainly wouldn't help anything! Her tremors had gotten worse, certainly, and she'd passed her wand over to Susan so she didn't impulse use it and accidentally kill something, but what was the alternative?
So instead of worrying, Azalea staggered her way down the trail and listened to Hannah and Susan trade stories, Luna singing faintly from up ahead of them. It was a bit hard to see, Azalea realized with a flash of panic, and her ears were buzzing rather obnoxiously. Ominous black spots were intruding on her vision as she babbled out a request for water, drinking deeply and trying to blink the dark from her eyes. It didn't work.
"Can we get going quicker?"Azalea asked after a moment, clammy fingers gripping Susan's shoulder. "Merlin, I wish we could have used brooms. We'd've been there hours ago.
"Az," Hannah started in concern, checking her leg with a diagnostic spell and then checking their direction with a compass. "Azzie, if you hadn't been so eager to get yourself hurt, you wouldn't be in this much pain," Hannah joked weakly.
"I'll have to agree with Hannah, Azzie." Susan agreed, though she did her best to increase their pace at the same time. "With your luck, you'll be fine in a few days, but still—couldn't you have been a little more careful!"
"I was saving your lives!" Azalea complained. "I'm sorr-ee for saving your lives!"
"I don't want you to be sorry, Azalea!" Hannah shouted, "I want you to understand how utterly stupid it was to go off without a plan and get yourself hurt all the time!"
"There wasn't time for a plan!"
"You could have told us what you were about to do so—"
"Bloody hell." Susan interrupted, staring into the clearing they trail had just approached.
Luna laughed brightly, and spun to face Azalea with a happy smile. "There are more ways to fly than with just a broom! You know that, Azzie!"
"Luna…? What are you—" Azalea looked into the clearing, realization dawning on her face. "Oh. Yeah."
"Oh," Susan echoed faintly. "Yeah."
"Shouldn't we be, I dunno, going away from the herd of hippogriffs?" Hannah asked warily. The massive creatures, all feathers and claws and sharp beaks, had only just begun to notice them. Or rather, only just bothered to acknowledge them. The largest was massive —near double the size of Buckbeak— and his white-brown and gold feathers seemed to shimmer in the light of the high sun. He'd be beautiful, if he wasn't so terrifying, and the girls took wary steps backwards as he cantered towards them.
Azalea impulsively stepped forward to meet him as he stopped a few meters away to glare down at them in warning, and cautiously she reached out her hand. It wasn't nearly as polished as all of the times Azalea had approached Buckbeak, but there was little focus on poise when you could barely stand on your own.
"Hello," Azalea greeted carefully, pausing a few steps away with her hand outstretched and bowing low at the waist. It took the hippogriff two very tense minutes to assess her —two very long minutes of refraining from collapsing from exhaustion and poison— before he bowed and stepped forward to nudge his head into her hand.
Azalea took the opportunity to walk down his side, one hand trailing supportively down his neck and back and shivering all the while, to lean comfortably against the massive beast's strong back. Luna stepped forward next, receiving a quick bow in return and delightedly wrapping her arms around her hippogriff's neck. Hannah was next, mustering every ounce of Hufflepuff confidence to take a bold step forwards and easily receiving a return bow of respect, Susan quickly following her example.
"I was injured," Azalea told her hippogriff in the most level voice she could manage. "And we don't have any other method of getting quickly to Altair. Would you be willing to carry us there?"
The hippogriff huffed once, a tired and old sort of sound, before kneeling and allowing her to climb onto his back, the other girls' hippogriffs following his example. It was with an exhausted air that the girls climbed carefully onto their backs and wrapped their arms around the powerful beast's necks. Either they got this right, and the rest of the journey was easy… or they… died, probably.
And got it right they did, as the hippogriffs spread their massive wings wide, and bolted forward, quickly clearing the treetops as the hippogriff herd took to the sky, screeching and calling warning to each other as wyverns and other beasts swerved across their path.
Azalea had not quite realized how far they made it into the valley, but looking back over the endless stretch of dark and light greens and browns, little pockets of clearing and meadows and seemingly endless stretches of forest… they had come so far. Azalea didn't know where, exactly, they started, and she didn't have any real measure of "before and after" where they had traveled… but she was seeing the other side of one of the massive mountains from the very beginning cliffside walk, and they'd gone around a slight bend to be able to see the Altair Institute of Magic. And what an Institute it was.
The highest points were a series of spiraling white towers, decorated with purple flowers and gleaming gold decorations. The towers cut sharply into the skyline, twisting upwards from thick bases up to large circular roofs, the tallest of which was positioned just so so that they could likely see down the entire valley. The lower buildings were squat and square, like typical muggle buildings, but they were done in very ancient, and very different, styles. Some of the buildings looked like something you'd see straight off the streets of Rome, while others mimicked the wide domes and spires of Islamic architecture, and even others looked like they were stacked on top of each other in East Asian techniques.
And all of them had the same white and light gray stone base, with purple-hued decoration and gold ornaments. All of them were arranged around gardens and paths full of flowers that bloomed —even so late in the year— in reds, greens, blues, and yellows. The flowers were too bright, and the architecture too pristine that it felt just so… unnatural, from a muggle standpoint.
But despite the towers and domes and spires, all of Altair seemed to be designed around drawing your eye centrally, to the massive center clearing with several massive columns jutting into the air. It was a central courtyard area, or maybe an atrium, and judging by the scattered tables and center pedestal it served the purpose of the Great Hall, but greener.
Beginning in the center and looking out, a pattern was much more obvious in the buildings. Despite the varying architecture, they all seemed to branch out from the center, first in wings to the side in wide buildings, split by wide open courtyards. Beyond that there was a second row of flat, wide buildings before another row of courtyards, this time filled with deep pools of water, and beyond that the buildings split off into dormitories and other living areas. The architecture here was least together, with every different building seemingly built in a different style, leading to a complicated maze of buildings and balconies and hallways, until it opened up again to a wide array of things —dueling platforms and circles, courts for all sorts of games, a scaled-down Quidditch pitch, and a sprawling open farmers market— before that too was closed in by a second cluster of dormitories.
To Azalea, Hogwarts was home. The castle had become more familiar than anywhere she'd ever been in those four years… but fuck. There was something exceptional about this school, trapped as it was in the back of a valley. Where Hogwarts was ancient… Altair was pristine, and polished. New. Except, Altair was older, so much older than Hogwarts. And they were going to stay there for a year.
With a jolt, Azalea's hippogriff started his decline, towards a set of wide clearings and tall stables a little ways from Altair. The wide clearings Azalea figured the hippogriff was heading for would serve as a "landing platform" for all of the things that might fly their way to Altair. Their decent was fast, and their landing faster, hitting the ground with a painful jolt that sent Azalea sliding off her hippogriff with an even more painful thump onto the clearing. Azalea… was not sure she could move. Perhaps ever again.
"I will never do anything stupid ever again," Azalea promised herself from her spot on the ground, eyes squeezed shut to stave off the black spots and incredible pain.
"I'm never going to let you do anything ever again!" Hannah said, using all the spells she knew to check on her friend's health. While she and Susan hovered, Luna wandered off… though they didn't notice until she came back, dragging along a tall man who had a sword strapped to his belt and daggers belted to his thighs. And horns! What kind of creature had horns?
"What— no— Luna!" Susan panicked, looking between the tiny girl and her new companion.
"He can carry Azzie," Luna said determinedly. "She could get worse if we try any magic on her— Daddy said that could happen when you get attacked by big creatures."
The guy nodded in agreement, looking faintly amused as he stared down the two purebloods and looked at the girl on the ground. "She can't walk?" he asked, even as he walked over and crouched next to her, pressing two fingers against her neck to check her pulse. Too fast.
"She got stabbed by a manticore." Luna explained.
"That'd do it," he mused. "How long ago?"
"Four and a half hours."
The man slowly turned to face Luna with an incredulous expression, before quickly reaching under Azalea's knees and back to haul her up into his arms, adjusting slightly and continuing surely toward the trail to the institute. "I expect a favor in return," he told the near-unconscious girl, who only just barely managed a muddied agreement.
"What's your name, Mister Demon?" Luna asked cheerfully as she hauled both her and Azalea's bags after him. She didn't seem to notice or care about the way Susan and Hannah both tensed as they realized just what the guy who helped them was.
"Lorcan I'vores," the demon offered. "Earth daemon. And what is yours, little Miss Human?"
"Luna Selene Lovegood, very nice to meet you!" Luna replied. "And that's Callisto Azalea Potter-Black, and Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones."
"Very nice to meet you, too, Luna Selene Lovegood," I'vores said. "We'll have to cut across here," he changed directions down the trail, "it's the fastest to the Infirmary. Also, it avoids the Atrium which is… not happy today in particular."
Susan and Hannah shared anxious glances —how did they know he would lead them where they needed to be?— but followed anyway. Luna trusted him and… where else did they have to go?
…