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Chapter Four, Inheritance
When Harry came back into consciousness he didn't feel any better. Every inch of his body felt bruised, as if he'd fallen off the top of the Astronomy tower. But what was unsettling him the most was the feeling of his magic throbbing just under his skin. He felt feverish. Hot. He felt his magic at the very tips of his fingers, almost burning. He felt it swirling in his abdomen, in his chest, his throat; it burned the area around his eyes. He tried to open them, he saw nothing. He took in a shaky breath and his lungs seared. His magic pulsed with every breath and every heartbeat, as if his magic was trying to break free and consume him. He struggled again to open his eyes, to move, to run away from his crazed magic. He wanted out.
Cold hands seized him by the shoulders. He cried out. Voices were talking to him, but Harry could not, for the life of him, understand the words. He lashed out at the prying hands, yelled until his voice felt sore and soon he felt a blanket of unfamiliar magic washing over him, calming him down, and he welcomed the darkness that overcame his mind.
The next time Harry awoke, it was to the sound of muffled voices around him. His brain was pounding and his throat felt raw. He didn't bother opening his eyes, which he was sure would require a tremendous effort. He focused in on the voices.
"What if we don't find a cure, Headmaster?" asked a worried voice that Harry vaguely recognized as Madam Pomfrey's. "This could be very dangerous for him."
Was he in the hospital wing, then? It certainly smelled like the hospital wing. Clean, anesthetized. He felt an inkling of relief wash over him and almost immediately it left him. He didn't think getting ambushed by a Death Eater was any way to get himself back to Hogwarts. He gathered he must've been in a lot of trouble to have been brought straight to the school as opposed to being dropped back off at the Dursley's. Not that Harry was complaining or anything.
With no little effort, Harry focused back on the conversation surrounding him.
"—can't say that we will be able to find a cure," came the voice of Professor Dumbledore. "At any rate, we cannot know the extent of damage Harry has suffered until he awakens. For now I will suggest that you rest, Poppy. Thank you for your help." There was an exchange of goodnight's and Madam Pomfrey's footsteps died away.
Harry frowned the tiniest bit. Extent of damage? What exactly had that poison done to him? On the verge of opening his eyes and facing Dumbledore, Harry paused. He heard the door of the infirmary open and another set of footsteps, quiet and swift, came towards the bed.
"I gather everything's in order?" Dumbledore asked the newcomer.
"The appropriate parties have been notified, if that is what you are asking," Snape's cool voice sounded at the foot of Harry's bed.
"Good, good…"
"There is no known antidote for the poison he has been injected with," Snape continued. "You know this, Headmaster. It's only a matter of time—"
"I'm sure we'll find a cure, Severus. Of that I am positive."
"Did you not just listen to my words? There is no antidote. All the magic that the insolent br—"
"Severus."
"—that the boy would've gained throughout his entire life is being given to him in the span of who knows how long! He won't be able to control it! Furthermore, we don't know what kind of damage the poison had done to his body. He's a danger to the school and to the students!"
Harry swallowed involuntarily but otherwise, remained unmoving and silent.
"Harry is a strong young man," Dumbledore said, "and I have all the confidence that he will manage to pull through his ordeal. With the right guidance, what happened tonight does not have to cripple him."
"With the 'right guidance?'"
Harry found it easy to imagine Snape's teeth bared in displeasure.
"Yes. Someone to guide him through the coming obstacles."
"And am I to assume you already have someone in mind?" Snape's voice had lowered an octave.
"Yes," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly. "You."
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Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the support/reviews! :3