Disclaimer - Wish I owned it. Wish I were in it. Alas, neither is true.
Fainted
Oh, my. Zaiaas gazed, mildly surprised, at the fallen boy. He looked behind himself to the green eyed man who had paid him so much attention. "I didn't do it."
Harry forced a smile through his shock. Professor McGonagall tried to ease the child's worry; he seemed to have an unusual affect on her as well. "No one thinks you did." A blink and then the head turned back down, curls swishing back into place.
"We should probably roll him over." After a pause the little boy's astute statement sent the adults into a flurry of action. Neville Longbottom kneeled by the unconscious body. He rested a hand on the small shoulder for a moment. Then as if some question had been satisfied, he rolled the unintroduced child over.
The boy's front was covered with mud. The amount of the substance upon his face was most likely extremely difficult to breathe through. Professor Flitwick pointed his wand carefully, gave it a deliberate flick, and suddenly the offending muck was gone.
Zaiaas and his creature friend moved to stand beside McGonagall. The stern looking woman turned her attention to the miniature figure when she felt a small hand slip into her own. "This won't be over quickly, will it Headmistress?"
"There is no way to tell how fast someone will wake up from a fainting spell. It depends entirely on the individual." Briefly, the elderly woman wished the child would look up at her; then she was glad he did not. As strange as the child had proven to be hence far, she would probably not be able to adequately deal with whatever expression he bore. Indeed, Zaiaas' face did not bear the worry of those around him; generally accepting, with an undercurrent of concern, would have been a fair assessment.
Several moments passed where the pair watched the scene unfold before them. For McGonagall, years of coping with the mysterious happenings of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry allowed her to feel very little at all. Zaiaas was not nearly old enough to possess the same and the teacher wondered mildly what he was actually thinking. Perhaps he is simply talented at hiding his concern. Merlin knows Severus was born that way.
The ring of adults broke away from the small form and Madam Pomfrey levitated him onto a hovering stretcher. As the matron began to move away, wide black eyes looked to the Headmistress. Can we follow? they said. McGonagall made to follow the gaggle of people back into the castle, boy in hand, creature in tow.
--
In the entrance hall most of the staff split off to join their colleagues wrangling students back to the Great Hall. However, confident that her Deputy-Head could handle the situation, and compelled by the only student to ever hold her hand, Minerva McGonagall followed Potter, Pomfrey, and Longbottom up the stairs.
The group rose above the clamor on the ground level and proceeded to the infirmary. The look of the room earned it the name of hospital wing. That name was lived up to in every way except for the smell. Headmaster Dumas Clagg had invented a spell in the 1660s to remove the affronting odor that pervaded places like Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Woodend Hospital. In fact the room seemed to bear no scent at all.
This sure is a big nurse's office. Zaiaas observed quietly as his new friend was placed on a bed part way down the long room. The witch in the white uniform shooed the men out of her way and pointed her wand at the still form. As the moments passed the unsorted child stood, ever patient.
After several minutes McGonagall's aged eyes turned again to the handsome creatures beside her. The boy's left hand was buried in the deep… fur… of the animal's head. He was watching calmly. Does nothing faze this child? He waits as if he expects the world will sort out everything around him entirely without his help. She was reminded of another child, one who said that, in his words, shit happens. That child also had his mouth promptly washed out with soap.
"He'll not awake Minerva." Poppy Pomfrey's voice snapped the Scottish woman from her musing. She raised her eyebrows to the matron, indicating that she had better explain, and quickly. "He seems to be perfectly fine other than the coma. I have absolutely no explanation for why a perfectly healthy young lad would pass out and fall into a coma. I assure you this is highly irregular. I wish-"
"Madam Pomfrey! We agreed years ago to let sleeping headmasters snore."
"I was going to say that I wished Severus was here. He always seemed to know what to do with my 'highly irregular' patients. You included, Potter." The graying healer sighed. Then she indicated the boy still connected to both the Headmistress and the strange creature that had come out of the forest. "And I rather think there is no need for the unwavering professor persona. It doesn't seem to work on the boy and Merlin knows these two have out grown it." The last was directed at Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom who both proceeded to look totally unabashed.
Then, too, Professor McGonagall sighed. "I suppose now is as good a time as any to deal with this child as well." Zaiaas snapped his attention from his new pet to the adults in the room. "He must be sorted before the Feast can proceed and I imagine the students are as hungry as I am."
"I'll tell you what, Professor." Neville offered. "Why doesn't Mr. Reed sit with Harry and I, and we'll see if we can't settle this thing over dinner."
"Perhaps that would be a good idea, Neville."
--
Professor McGonagall conjured a new chair for Harry next to Neville. Before she could attempt a second Zaiaas Reed had scrambled up onto the arm of the new chair. The boy was perched happily; unaware, or indulgent, of the stares directed at him by his soon to be teachers. Harry was the first to awake from this stupor. The situation was actually quite humorous.
Harry moved to the other side of his semi-occupied chair. "I take it you would like to sit with me?"
"I'm a little short," the boy said. He was absolutely matter of fact and to further that impression it seemed that he did not mind if the-boy-who-lived was the only one who knew. Just then, Hagrid appeared behind the unsorted child. Harry looked up to see the half giant grinning down at the olive skinned youth.
"Yeh really are conten' ter jus' let the world go on by, so long as yeh understan' to yer conten'men', eh." The dark head swiveled to meet the eyes of the largest staff member. Bewildered, Zaiaas simply did nothing. He seemed to believe that if the statement was important it would be explained and if it was not, oh well. "Yeh remind me o' the younges' teacher in Hogwarts history. 'E was the younges' headmaster too, come ter think of it. Well, actually, yeh remind me of 'im at two years ol'. Poor, boy's mother quickly got rid o' any conten'men' 'e ever knew." Harry wondered just exactly which professor had been the youngest. It couldn't be Neville, his mother was insane, certainly not in any position to prevent contentment. I'm sure Hermione knows. Zaiaas, meanwhile, just continued to look patiently at the overly large man in front of him, behind him. "Ye remind me o' one o' the bes' friends I ever 'ad. An' at the bes' time in 'is life. I'm glad yer 'ere."
Wide, black eyes blinked. Then an elated smile emblazoned itself on the young boys face. "I'm glad you're here too, Professor." Faced with that smile and sentiment, any awkwardness Hagrid had felt trying to make the tiny child understand him vanished.
"Now, I'll be havin' none o' tha' pr'fresser hogwash outside o' class, yeh here." He wagged his finger sternly. "It's Hagrid." At this Zaiaas giggled. Then he raised his arm in the fashion of a child his size, but not his age, asking for a hug. Hagrid happily obliged. The moment was sealed with an all encompassing smile for his newest friend, and then for the entire faculty once he had been returned to his seat on the armrest of Harry's chair.
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Author's Note: Let me know if there are any words I repeated too often. It's really a pet peeve of mine, but it's late and I'm afraid I didn't catch them all. Remember reviews are always welcome, just like candy.