Chapter 8 - Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames

(title taken from the lyrics to 'Pardon Me' by Incubus)

He was getting closer, Draco could feel it. The irrational thudding of his fully-human heart as it beat beneath his ribcage. The beads of sweat appearing to slicken his skin, despite the cooling cloth. He had discreetly removed the cooling charms the idiot mediwitch had cast, knowing they would far from help, but hinder the rite.

Now they could just wait. Wait and see.

Severus entered silently, but Draco still looked up to see him do so. The older man's eyebrow rose, and Draco shook his head. Not yet. Crossing the room, the dark-haired Potions Master took a seat beside his son, before reaching out a hand to check his temperature.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the younger Malfoy said quietly. The hand hesitated, before continuing it's journey. Draco rolled his eyes inwardly.

A cry of pain and surprise soon broke the near-silence in the Hospital Wing. Severus, shocked, withdrew his hand, the palm of the pale skin red and angry-looking.

"What the-?"

"He's burning up," Malfoy stated matter-of-factly. "I've never seen it happen before, but trust me, it's alright."

"Alright?" Severus exclaimed, nursing his hand. "He's as hot as fire!"

"Not quite."

"How can you be taking this so calmly?"

"How can you not?" Draco returned. "You were there during my transformation. This isn't much different; he's just going the other way."

There was a long silence.

"Then he's going to…?"

"Yes."

Another silence.

"The headmaster should be informed."

"There's nothing he can do, but by all means, tell him. You should probably not be here when it happens anyway." Draco said, turning his gaze back to Harry's ashen face.

"I'm staying," Severus replied curtly. Malfoy shrugged.

"Just don't go to pieces when it happens."

"'Go to pieces'?" Severus asked distastefully. Malfoy grinned.

"Muggle saying. Would you prefer 'don't lose your wand'?"

Severus shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever get used to you saying muggle sayings. Lucius would never allow them within hearing."

The blonde teen's face flashed stony. "I'm not my father."

"I know," Severus replied seriously. There was an apology in his eyes. When he returned the glance, there was acceptance in Draco's.

Just then, Draco turned back, eyes glinting blue. Before he could shout a warning, there was a sudden sound like the rushing of wind, and they were thrown backwards as Harry Potter burst into flames.

Catching himself in midair, Draco instinctively forced out his wings and cushioned his landing. His shirt was torn to shreds down the back and a few loose feathers that had been pulled out by the activity fluttered to the ground.

Severus had no such defence mechanism, and was thrown bodily against the wall, his head cracking on stone. With a leap assisted by his large wings, Draco was across the room in a heartbeat and placed his hand on the unconscious Professor's forehead. Blue light trickled across his palm and seeped into the skin, magically healing the wound and rousing Severus to consciousness.

Meanwhile, behind them, Harry was having difficulties of his own. Curled up in agony, yet still in essence unconscious, he screamed once, a sound full of raw, hoarse pain. Unnatural flames engulfed his body, and he arched his back, eyes snapping open as he regained consciousness. His usually bright emerald eyes reflected the intense light eerily.

There was a rush of sound, and a tearing noise, the cotton pyjamas made way for blood and feathers, and two wings forced themselves out from Harry's shoulder blades. He screamed once in pain before there was a flash of light that made even Draco cover his eyes, and he fell back to the bed.

Blinking away the after images furiously, Draco leapt to his feet. Severus joined him immediately and they raced towards the bed.

Harry looked a mess. His hair was long and clung to his skin in places where sweat and blood caught it. He was shivering, from heat, cold or pain they could not tell, but thankfully he was unconscious again. When Draco flipped his eyelids open with the delicate movement of one thumb, what stared out at them was not the glazed green they expected, but a deep amber flecked with gold. But before Severus could comment, Madame Pomfrey burst in.

"What on Earth!" she cried, glancing across the chaotic room and her patient. Then, with all the grace of a hippogriff, she fainted.

Malfoy moved quickly, knowing that Harry would be very fragile for a while, and that any way he could help now would drastically affect his healing time. His fingertips edged with silver, he ran his hands along the trails of blood, cleaning up cuts caused by the rapid shift of various parts of his anatomy.

With Severus' help, he turned him over to ease the discomfort of sleeping on his new wings, and carefully healed the raw back wounds that were raised above the pale flesh. Then he laid his palm on the teen's head, and whispered one word.

"Sleep."

At once, Harry relaxed, as if the command had been heard and processed by some higher entity. Draco forced himself to stand back before staggering against a chair and falling backwards into a wearied sprawl.

Severus looked to be in a similar position, but probably more due to shock than anything. Seemingly in automatic, he pulled out his wand and set about tidying up – cleaning up feathers and blood and sweat and smashed bottles and potion from the floor. In two minds, he revived Madame Pomfrey, and sent a firecall to the Headmaster's office. Then he followed his godson's example, and dropped into a chair.