Angered voices drew Harry slowly from the darkness that had consumed him. He sucked in a deep breath and winced, freezing as fingers of pain clawed their way up his spine. Hissing softly, he opened one eye and stared at the white wall in front of him. Somewhere behind him, liquid sloshed and metal scraped. The quick shuffle of feet had him inhaling deeply and combing through the strong smells in search of the individual moving around at the end of the room. When his nose failed to identify the mortal, he tensed his muscles and prepared to defend himself.
"I've never seen such a terrible reaction to Liquid Iron," a woman's harried voice stated into the silence. The announcement was followed by the clank of metal and the soft patter of feet.
"I demand that he be removed from my presence "
Harry shuddered at the screech, fisting his hands in the starched sheets of the bed. Tipping his head to the side, he shot an annoyed look at the witch sitting primly on the cot across from him. Wearing pale pink silk pajamas, the drama queen appeared to be in perfect health. He curled a lip as the witch's face began to redden, her blue eyes slowly narrowing as the older woman continued to ignore her. His eyes slipped closed as one of the double doors swung open and Severus Snape came striding in carrying a black velvet bag. Exhaling quietly, he listened to the wizard stalk past the foot of his bed, the jingle of glass accompanying his every step. When the dull thud of boots halted, he allowed his eyes to drift slowly open.
"My father-"
"Why are you still here, Miss Parkinson? I released you an hour ago." The older witch snapped, lifting her gaze from the metal tray she was fussing with. Shaking her head as the young blonde huffed and put her little nose in the air, she scooped up the tray and stormed toward Harry's silent form. "I suggest you head back to your dorm and change before proceeding to class, Miss Parkinson." Shooting a quick look over her shoulder, the gray-haired woman arched an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the tray she held.
As she neared where he lay silently listening to the conversation, Harry stiffened and lowered his eyelashes, partially shielding his gleaming orbs. He kept his breathing slow and even, turning his attention to the strange smells that filled the room. The air was cleaner in the long room then in the dank dungeon, the temperature almost bearable. His nostrils flared and scrunched with every deep breath he took, pulling in the tang of mint and antibiotics. Muscles tensing as the air around him shifted, the raven-haired demon sank needle like nails into the mattress beneath him. Glass clanked as metal was thumped down somewhere near his feet, the sound informing him that the witch was preparing to tend his burned back.
"What exactly happened, Severus? I asked Neville Longbottom but he all he said was 'potions accident'. Now, if only Miss Granger would follow his example." Murmured the female, beginning the careful process of removing his robes without causing further damage. The dark cloth seemed to dissolve away, revealing his burned back to the witch's eyes. A gasp of horror followed the disappearance of his clothes. "Are you sure this was done by Liquid Iron?"
"Of course it was done by Liquid Iron," Snape snarled, stalking forward. "Longbottom added the salt before the shredded leaves of Ash."
"Oh, dear." The woman mumbled.
The murmured words were followed by the light brush of fingers over his left shoulder blade and the back of his neck, the cool digits soothing over his injured skin. Making a soft tsking noise, the witch withdrew her hand and reached for the wand tucked into the top of her skirt. Harry rolled his eyes as he watched the woman through lowered lashes, internally laughing over the way she hoisted her wand and gave it a tentative wave before tightening her grip and carefully casting a complex charm. As soon as she went silent, a cool rush of magic swept over him. Goosebumps rose on his arms and legs as his aura flexed and fought against the searching magic, attempting to force it away from his body. The sensation faded suddenly, leaving his magic churning angrily around his still form.
"Well, what's wrong with him?" The greasy-haired professor demanded, prowling the length of the room. His robes hissed and swished behind him, fluttering over the uneven stone as he paced. Impatience had him turning and planting his hands on his hips in a commanding gesture, waiting for the witch to answer his question.
The raven-haired demon subtly rolled his head to look at the matronly woman standing beside the bed he occupied, his face remaining relaxed as if he were still unconscious. His jaw clenched as the witch frowned and lifted the roll of parchment she held, her narrowed eyes sweeping over the information it contained. Before he had a chance to ponder her concerned look, the sound of someone approaching the double doors had him closing his eyes and giving a small smile.
"According to my scan, nothing." Said the gray-haired nurse, squinting as she peered at the results of the magical scan. Seconds later she gave a soft gasp, her grip on the parchment increasing so much that the paper crinkled and tore. Shaking her head slowly, she raised her gaze and looked at the Potions Professor. "This can't be right. His heart rate and blood pressure . . . they're much to low. If this is right, he shouldn't even be alive. No witch or wizard, or muggle for that matter, could survive with a heart beat this slow. It's just not possible."
"You did it wrong. Do it again." Snape ordered, just as the doors swung open and Albus Dumbledore came gliding into the room. Snapping his mouth closed, the Professor turned quickly and watched anxiously as his mentor approached the body lying silently upon the narrow bed.
"There'll be no need for any further tests, Poppy." The old wizard said softly, his quiet footsteps halting at the bottom of Harry's bed. "Severus, please return to your classroom. I believe the fifth year Ravenclaws are growing bored in your absence and beginning to eye the supply closet."
Paling, the Potions Professor gave a brief nod and headed toward the door. "Thank you, Albus." He said as he swept from the Infirmary, black robes billowing out behind him.
Smiling faintly as he watched the wizard vanish down the long hall, Dumbledore turned and stared at Harry's still form. Lifting his blue orbs, he reached out and rested a hand on the brass footboard. "Poppy, I believe your presence is no longer required." His knuckles whitened as the witch gaped at him, her face reddening as she was ordered from her rightful domain.
Scowling, she gave a sharp nod that had the little cap she wore sliding forward, her hands dropping to clench in the thick skirts she wore. "Certainly, sir." She was halfway to her small office when a noise stopped her in her tracks and had her whirling around. Gritting her teeth as she stared at the empty palm held out toward her, she sighed and stomped back to the old wizard's side. "Here," she grumbled as she thrust the tiny roll of parchment into his hand. Swinging around, she charged unhappily toward her office, one hand rising to push at the awkwardly seated hat. The door of the office slammed closed behind the witch, the narrow pane of glass rattling in the thick door.
"I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to why Miss Parkinson was found on the floor of the boys' bathroom," Dumbledore said slowly as he began to pace the length of the room. He trailed his fingers over the brass bars of the beds as he passed, the metal rasping softly under his touch. Glancing over his shoulder as he reached the far end of the room, he arched an eyebrow and turned.
Rising liquidly from the bed, Harry stretched slowly and rolled his shoulders. He wiggled his fingers as he moved toward his folded clothes, shooting the old wizard a look out of the corner of his eye. "Miss Parkinson, I imagine, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Though one does wonder what she was doing in that particular bathroom." Scooping up his trousers, he slid into them leisurely and did up the zipper. His eyes narrowed when the air around him stirred, magic attempting to rise subtly and failing. Hands balling into fists, he wheeled around and hissed, unprepared for the sudden bubble of magic that settled over him. A shriek of pure anger slipped from his mouth, his fists rising to slam uselessly against the magic.
Watching silently as the dark-haired youth growled and tried to pierce the magic ball with the tips of his fingers, Albus shook his head and sighed tiredly. "You're here only because I allow it, Harry." He reminded, blue eyes widening when a long sword materialized in the raven-haired demon's hand. Dried blood clung to the metal, small pieces flaking off as the weapon was hefted in warning. Dumbledore stumbled back when the blade was brought down heavily, connecting with the glowing sphere that encircled the young male. In a bright flash, the trapping spell collapsed.
Swinging his sword angrily, Harry stalked forward. "Just remember, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you're living only because I allow it." He halted a short distance away from the gray-bearded wizard, his fingers clenching and unclenching upon the iron hilt of the sword. In a studied effort, he slowed his breathing and allowed the tip of the sword to swing downward and rest upon the floor. The metal grated against the pale stone and flecks of old blood drifted slowly to the ground.
"You yourself said that if I ordered you to leave, you'd go." Albus stated, his words filled with doubt. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes shone with worry. The light weight of his wand in his pocket was a small comfort.
Harry twisted the hilt of the sword, grinding the tip of the blade deeper into the stone at his toes. He chuckled and shook his head, a small grin curving his lips. "Those were just pleasantries. I told you exactly what you wanted to hear and in return was given what I wanted. You forget who I am. I am a demon; a finger on the devil's left hand." The last was said smugly. Swinging the sword up to rest upon his shoulder, the Retriever tipped his head. "Between one beat of your heart and the next, I could kill you." As if to prove his point, he leapt the short distance between them, freezing when the blade of his sword rested against the gray-haired wizard's throat.
Gasping in surprise, the old wizard froze. His eyes widened as he peered into laughing emeralds, his lips firming at the glimmer of disdain he saw there. Realizing he had no choice, he took a deep breath and slid his hand into a pocket of his robe, fishing out the worn wand that lay hidden within. "I'd take you with me," he stated quietly, the tip of his wand appearing suddenly against Harry's temple.
Shifting his head away from the wand, the raven-haired demon smiled and increased the pressure of the blade, watching as the thin line of white began to redden. "You could try," he breathed. The sound of the doorknob turning had him spinning away and leaping to the opposite side of the room, the iron sword vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He arched an eyebrow and glanced up calmly, hooking a finger through the collar of the white shirt lying upon the bed just as a young witch came slinking through the portal. Widening his eyes innocently, he slid into the shirt and tugged on the collar, straightening it before beginning to do up the neat row of buttons. "I'll see you later, Headmaster." Bowing his head in farewell, he scooped up the Slytherin robe and tie and left the infirmary.
Harry made his way through the castle, traversing the maze of corridors and staircases in search of his next class. The scrunched up schedule was held uselessly in his right hand, the series of numbers and words meaning nothing to him. After receiving only panicked looks and squeaks of fear from anyone whom he'd asked for directions, he'd finally resorted to using his nose. Unerringly, he followed Draco's scent to one of the uppermost towers of Hogwarts. Hiking his bag back onto his shoulder, he strolled into the classroom and glanced around with arched brows.
Perched precariously on three legged stools and fluffy cushions, the entire group appeared petrified. Empty teacups and misty crystal balls rested on the tables they were seated around, all being studiously ignored by the dozing students. A witch in her late forties swept around the room, waving her arms and speaking in a low-pitched voice. The numerous scarves she wore fluttered and swung wildly about her obviously thin body, their various lengths almost managing to silence the clattering of the beads hung around her neck.
A sudden movement had him turning his head and meeting the angered gaze of three Gryffindors. Smirking as the redhead's face began to rival the hair on his head, Harry tipped his head and wiggled his fingers. The brown-haired witch gasped and straightened as much as her stool would allow, her fingers tightening on the wand resting in her lap. Sitting between them, the plump wizard named Longbottom narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. The wizard's face bore several small red marks; the wounds obviously obtained in the Potions class accident. Remembering his own burned back, the raven-haired demon rolled his shoulders and growled at the slight sting.
The almost inaudible whisper of his name had him scanning the room and stilling when his eyes landed upon Draco. He arched a dark brow when the blond wiggled two fingers in a come hither gesture, indicating that the raven-haired male should take the seat next to him. Shooting one final skeptical look at the Professor, Harry wound his way around napping students and carefully climbed to the corner where the Slytherin was lounging. Dropping his bag next to the wizard's feet, he slowly lowered himself onto a stool that looked like it'd seen better days. Holding perfectly still, he folded his hands in his lap and watched the blond fidget in his peripheral vision. Finally, after several minutes of silent deliberation, the blond reached out and tapped his elbow.
"I'd like to thank you for protecting me earlier," Draco whispered. He glanced in the direction of the Professor and shifted uncomfortably, reaching out and absently running the tip of his index finger around the lip of the empty teacup sitting before him. Sighing heavily, he lifted his other hand and slid pale fingers through his platinum locks. "Severus only pairs me with Longbottom because he knows it drives the Gryffindors crazy. The idiotic fool couldn't brew a potion with a full team of assistants and the aid of the best Potion Master in the world."
"It would have been very remiss of me had I allowed your beautiful face to be ruined," Harry purred. Internally smiling as the blond's eyes widened and he flushed a delightful shade of red, the dark-haired demon gave a soft grin. "I don't think I ever would have been able to forgive myself, should I not have reached you in time." Before he could continue lathering praise upon Draco, the shrill cry of the crazed witch turned his head. His eyes widened in interest and his mouth curved into a grin as the woman scampered toward the trio of Gryffindors, her orbs impossibly big behind the frames of her glasses.
The witch descended upon the plump Gryffindor with a loud gasp, her bejeweled fingers snatching the empty teacup from his hands. She peered into the cup with wide eyes, twisting it round and round. Her face paled and she thrust the cup back toward the terrified wizard, ignoring the fact that the redhead sitting next to him had to scramble to catch it. "My boy, you have the Grim " Groans and snorts of disbelief were barely muffled by half a dozen students, all of them rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.
Their reaction had Harry leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, emerald orbs focused on the unfolding drama. Beside him, Draco sighed and shook his head, lifting his right hand up so he could peer at his manicured nails. The rest of the Slytherins awaited the witch's announcement with bated breath, wondering how the Gryffindor was going to die this lesson.
"And the raven! A terrible combination," the Professor mumbled, lifting a hand to rub her forehead in an agitated manner. Muttering softly, she spun around and crossed the room, halting before her desk where she began to pull open drawers. Shaking her head, the witch dragged a heavy tome from the bottom drawer and dropped it upon the scarred wood of her desk. She swept dust off the cover with a swipe of her hand, flipping it open seconds later and beginning to turn the pages.
"Professor," the brown-haired Gryffindor witch called, "what does the raven mean?"
Harry watched as she reached over and patted Longbottom soothingly on the knee, her face an unattractive shade of white as she waited for the older witch to answer.
"The raven is a scavenger, Miss Granger, always searching for death." Licking a finger, the Professor flipped another page and ran a long nail down its length, halting with a shuddering sigh. Lifting her gaze slowly, she shook her head, staring at Longbottom through scared eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mister Longbottom. It seems you won't be with us that much longer. I must inform the Headmaster at once." Blinking misty orbs, the witch sniffled loudly before waving a hand in dismissal and fleeing the classroom.
"Do you think she's got it right this time? Is Longbottom finally going to get eaten by one of that over-sized oaf's illegal pets?" Draco asked in an overly loud voice, his comment directed at Blaise. Arching a thin brow, he glanced at the trembling Gryffindor and smiled evilly. Placing a hand on the crystal ball sitting in the center of the table, he rolled it off its cushion and into his lap, withdrawing his wand as soon as the glass orb was concealed. Several whispered words and a tap of his wand later, a bird as dark as soot went rocketing into the air.
'She must have," Blaise hollered over the curses and yells of the Gryffindors.
The Slytherins cheered the dark bird on, watching in amusement as the other half of the class erupted into chaos. Spells were fired wildly at the bird, ricocheting off the rafters and chandeliers hanging from them. Several minutes later the classroom was a battle zone.
Ducking a ball of purple magic, Harry sighed lovingly. War was such a beautiful thing. So was greed; and envy; and lust; and jealousy. The mortal plane was full of beautiful things. Listening to the two groups yell and screech at each other while the transfigured crystal ball flapped and screamed overhead, Harry slumped forward and stared at the silver band around his wrist. Reaching forward, he ran a finger over the little charm of the hunting hound and smiled. Under his touch, the figure's ruby eye winked.
A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. For the sake of this story, we won't argue over why Hermione is in Divinations. Also, I took the liberty of fiddling with the meaning of raven. Odin's ravens, Hugin and Mugin, reported only to him but let's not digress.
jesse's rockstar - Harry will learn what a Death Eater is in the next chapter.
koruyuha - If only everything were that simple, lol.
Lady-Frisselle - I hadn't thought about whether or not I'd be bringing in Sirius or not. If I did, how would you like to see him? A normal wizard or a demon? Ah, the choices I'm forced to make.
hieisdragoness18 - Yep, I'm done reading the book. Can you believe that ending?