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Chapter 4: Savior

"Gaara, you can't be serious about this." Gaara said nothing, his eyes staring down his older sister impassively. Temari cringed slightly at the look, her stomach clenching nervously, regardless of how far her brother had come in terms of control, she always felt a slight niggling doubt that managed to worm its way into her heart.

"Why not simply send others to Konoha to assist in the search? You can't just up and leave here without a moment's notice." His gaze was unwavering and his words hard as stone.

"You and Kankuro will serve in my stead." She briefly considered further argument, but the sight of the sand moving restlessly at his feet deterred her. "Leave me." She didn't budge, instead choosing to move forward. She only just caught the almost imperceptible stiffening of his shoulders and stopped, turning back and heading through the gates.

He didn't even turn around. His eyes turned hard, and his hands curled into fists. The sand moved even more agitatedly, and he gazed across the vast expanse of sand that was his village.

"I will find you."

His words rang across an empty desert, before being whisked away with the wind.

Naruto stared down at the wolf's body in a daze. The goopy blood pooled out under him like spilled paint, coating the floor around him like some demented canvas. Everything seemed so sharp, the smell of his own blood mingling with Greyback's, his own sweat and the rank odor of the other's, and he could hear the loud beating of his own heart as if it was being broadcasted through speakers. The dim hallway seemed to explode with light and color and suddenly it was almost as if he could see the individual colors of every grain and rock in the walls and floor. He stumbled back, hand flying to his neck.

It came back red.

'Bleeding….I'm…I'm still bleeding…'

His vision swam and his legs gave out from under him, his suddenly clammy hands grasping weakly at the ground. 'Kyuubi…what..?' the fox's voice sounded like it was being projected through jello.

'Wha…? Ca...Can't hear you…'

'UP! GET UP! YOU HAVE TO MOVE DAMMIT! MORE ARE COMING!' Naruto cried out, hands flying to his abused ears. He rose, blindly stumbling down the hall, before a sharp pain lanced up his leg. He looked down, and was greeted with the sight of blood continuing to gush from his calf. His entire body screeched to a halt, his eyes widening in disbelief. "My leg…" His body felt sluggish, weak. He fumbled for the wall, leaning heavily against it as his body threatened to give out once more. 'Keep going…hafta…keep going…' he moved slowly along the wall, his eyes watering and blurring through the combined pain in his leg and neck. Trembling, he kept moving, fast as a snail, the pain in his body intensifying with every breath. His nostrils flared, and he came to a halt, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. Despite the pain, he smiled.

'I smell me.' He continued down the hallway, his nose guiding him until he finally came across a door. 'Heh, it's about damn time.' He staggered forward, hand connecting with the knob, and almost bit his tongue off. Electricity jolted up his arm, and he could already smell the singed skin of his hand.

"Ugh, you've got to be kidding me…"

'Brat, we're running out of time. Just leave them, they can be replaced.' Even as he said the words, he knew they wouldn't reach his stubborn host.

Naruto closed his eyes, the rage crashing through him like a maelstrom. He gingerly touched his forehead, missing the familiar weight, his other delicately caressing the spot on his neck where a chain had hung.

His eyes glowed red and slitted when he opened them.

'No they can't."

Tonks' breath came out painfully labored as she limped down the stairs, her muscles screaming in protest with each move. The careful footsteps of her team filled her with unbridled relief, especially when a strong arm caught her as she once again tripped. She flashed Kingsley a grateful smile, his dark face stretching into a weary one in response. "We're almost out." His deep voice sent a thrill of relief and comfort down her spine, and she was thankful once more that the older, more experienced man was with her. A muffled curse reached her ears and she turned back, watching as Bill Weasley righted himself clumsily on the winding staircase. The strong hand of Remus Lupin found its way on his shoulder, steadying the young man further. Even at a time such as this, she felt her heart give a slight thrum of warmth just at seeing him.

She turned away, leading them further down. "This boy," Bill began, and she noticed there was a slight worried tone to his voice, "are we sure he's a prisoner?" She nodded, "Without a doubt. When you see him you'll know what I mean."

They reached the ground floor, and a jolt of panic went through her when she didn't see him. She spun around eyes flitting furiously around the room. A giant sigh of ease left her as she saw him slumped over in a corner, his wane face cracking in a painful looking smile, his dirty hand giving them a mock wave. "I hope this means we can finally leave." And well, if she noticed that he seemed even more tired than when she left, or that he seemed to have accumulated more blood on his person, she paid it no mind.

'The wolf is staring at us.' Naruto swallowed anxiously.

'Can he smell Greyback on us?'

'He can definitely smell something; whether it's that other mangy mutt or your own ungodly odor I can't say.' Naruto sputtered mentally. 'Well excuse me; I can't exactly help it that we haven't been bathed since we got here.' Kyuubi chose not to deign him with a response. He simply ignored the rest of his host's blathering, instead putting all his concentration to the wound on his neck. His great mouth frowned, and a growl rose in his throat as he felt the poison already coursing through them.

Naruto cringed slightly as he felt his neck twinge in pain, his hand coming up to rest lightly on the irritated skin. It baffled him why it hadn't healed yet, even though Kyuubi had reduced the damage done to his leg. He rubbed at it, consciously aware that the other werewolf, who the woman who had introduced herself as Tonks, called Lupin was watching him intently. He moved closer to the tall redheaded man, Bill, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Something that wasn't an easy feat when one was a victim being rescued.

He jumped as he felt an arm slinging itself across his shoulders, the other placing his arm around a pair of broad shoulders. He looked up, meeting the friendly eyes of Bill. "You were looking a little unsteady there mate." Naruto frowned, mate? He was pretty sure he wasn't anybody's mate. The man, seeing his confused face, didn't elaborate, only chuckling as he led the blonde over to the rest of the group that were, oddly enough, standing around a crumpled newspaper. Naruto decided he'd add it to his list of other things that made wizards incredibly strange and hard to understand.

"Alright, hold tight onto this, don't let go. This ah, might be a little unpleasant."

Unpleasant? It was a piece of pap-

He felt a rough jerk behind his navel, and fervently hoped he wouldn't end up throwing up.

Wizards must be on drugs, was his first thought when his feet finally touched the ground. His second was that he was really sick and tired of throwing up every other day. He groaned, clutching at his poor stomach, the wet asphalt pressing coolly against his hot forehead. A soothing hand pressed against his back, and the smell of wet dog assaulted his nose. "Portkeys can be very hard to handle, especially for first timers." The hands settled themselves in his dirty spikes, making calming circles as he felt his stomach kick and lurch, before emptying once more onto the street. The smell was awful. The other man hefted him to his feet, easily supporting the limp, queasy blonde. Naruto noted that he was surprisingly gentle, before a piece of paper was shoved in front of his face.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve Grimwauld Place, London.

He looked around in confusion. Number 10, 11 and 13. He turned to Lupin. "But there is no number 12." He merely smiled, and a loud crunching noise reverberated all around them. Between numbers 11 and 13 the buildings began to split apart, making room for a new edition, the shiny brass number 12 gleaming in the moonlight. Naruto's jaw dropped, because he was pretty sure he'd just seen two buildings give birth to a third.

'Wizards,' he thought wearily, 'I'll never get used to them.'

They walked through a short metal gate, stepping onto a small, withered garden path that led to the front door. It groaned on its heavy hinges as it was opened, and he inhaled a mouthful of dust. Choking and sputtering, Lupin's hand returned to his back, this time roughly patting it to help subside his gasping. His eyes, stinging and watering from the choking and dust, finally readjusted and he was greeted with what was probably the most depressing house he'd ever been in.

It redefined the meaning of gloom.

Practically every single inch of the place was covered in a thick, almost suffocating layer of dust, and the dim lights provided a meager amount of light to see by. The hall was long, the walls an unattractive, peeling gray, the entire thing so narrow, he immediately felt a sense of them closing in around him. There was a long, rickety looking staircase up ahead, and just looking at it seemed to make it ancient steps groan. The smell of mothballs was unbearable, tickling his sensitive nose mercilessly. He could already feel several sneezes lining up.

"You're back! Oh thank goodness, I've been so worried!" A rather plump, motherly redheaded woman rushed forward, enveloping Bill in what looked like a bone-crushing hug. He fell back slightly under the sudden addition of another's weight, bumping into Naruto. He let out a hiss as the taller man's rough cloak brushed against his neck. The slight sound immediately drew the woman's eyes to him. They promptly widened as she took in his appearance.

"You poor dear!" Before he knew it, he himself was subject to one of her embraces, before she dragged him away, shouting out orders to the others to gather linen and food and to call someone called Poppy. He hoped for a dazed moment that she would have muffins.

He found himself being led up the same unreliable looking stairs that he'd seen when he first came in, and before he knew it, he was shoved into an impossibly soft bed. Almost immediately on contact, his eyes began to droop. The motherly woman's voice rang in his ears, "Don't worry now dear, we'll take good care of you." It was the last thing he heard before sleep overcame him.

There was some sort of commotion going on downstairs, and Harry fumbled around on the bedside table for his glasses. Sliding them on, he slipped out of bed, moving quietly across the room, bypassing a sleeping Ron. He crept out into the hallway, carefully avoiding creaky floorboards, and slunk down the stairs. He could see Tonks, Shacklebolt, Bill, and Lupin huddled together as they made their way to the kitchen. He followed silently, noting their ragged, exhausted appearances, and slow shuffling footsteps. They poured into the kitchen, slumping and sliding into the chairs, Bill and Lupin rummaging in the cabinets, bringing out food and bandages and the like.

Bill motioned for Tonks to move closer, and he tenderly began cleaning and bandaging a nasty looking cut on her shoulder. Lupin was doing the same for a cut on Shacklebolt's forearm. "That boy," Shacklebolt muttered tiredly, "we didn't even ask his name." Tonks looked up, her eyes wide with surprise; before a drained smile overcame her face and she settled her head in her hands. "You're right, I didn't even think of asking him at the time." Lupin smiled at her reaching across a comforting hand to pat her on the back. "We'll have plenty of time to ask him his name and how he ended up their Tonks. The important thing is that we got him out safely, there will be another time for proper introductions." Harry's brow furrowed, so they'd been on some sort of rescue mission. He moved forward, hoping to catch more of their conversation, when a hand landed on his shoulder. "Eavesdropping are we?" Harry spun around, his heart hammering, only to come face to face with the grinning face of his godfather. All the tension melted, and he grinned unabashedly, scratching at the back of his neck. Sirius merely chuckled, steering him away from the door and back towards the staircase. "If you're so curious, try the third door past your own. Though I'd be careful, Molly's on a rampage." With that, he left him at the foot of the stairs, joining the others in the kitchen.

With another smile, he moved quietly back up the stairs, walking past his and Ron's shared room, before stopping outside his destination. Mrs. Weasley and Madame Pomprhey moved around the room in a whirlwind of care. There wasn't a moment of rest between them as they hovered over a small figure on the bed. He craned his neck to see, but the two unknowing women seemed to constantly be in his way. a huff of annoyance escaped him and he leaned closer, freezing in place as the door gave out an ominous creek. Luck, as it usually was, was on his side and neither of the two stopped in their work. And then, finally, they moved to the other side of the room, crowding over a small table of bottles and potions, giving him a clear look at their mysterious patient. A tuft of blonde hair stuck up from beneath the blankets, a thin, tan face with three whisker-like tattoos on each cheek, and the brightest, haziest blue eyes he'd ever seen.

All the air left his lungs, his arms fell limp at his sides, and his eyes clouded over in shock.

"The cutting curse sliced his arm through and through, the severed appendage dangling precariously by a thin of skin before snapping and unstitching completely. The blonde screeched inhumanly, blood and vomit sliding from his mouth and (his arm, oh god stop, stop, STOP-) the now useless limb lying next to him in a pool of body fluids."

Harry flew back from the door as if he'd been burned.

"They watched as the bone cracked back together, the veins and capillaries matching up, the muscles and skin knitting and stitching together to leave nothing but tanned, smooth skin in its wake."

He blundered back down the hall, wrenching the door to his bedroom open, ignoring Ron's sleepy, confused questions. He threw himself on his bed, pulling the curtains tightly closed.

"Absolutely fascinating."

Reviews are welcome.-Cherry