CHAPTER 4

"Albus, I don't have time to deal with another trainee." The elderly matron snapped.

"Let her assist." Dumbledore said sternly before she could cut in. "I can assure you Miss Delacour is more than qualified to be a healer. We need her."

"Fine! Fine. You." She fixed her with a glare. "I want you to follow my orders and execute them with no questions asked. The slightest mistake will be the end of his life."

She nodded mutely, moving forward to stand next to the other girl working furiously, trying to stitch up a horrible looking wound on his chest.

Her legs felt weak even as she began to tend to him, doing whatever the matron told her.

His body was skeletal and touching him made her feel sick. His legs were so thin, parts where the skin should be there was none.

There were even areas where she thought she could see the whites if she looked.

It took all of her willpower to keep herself from showing any reaction to what she saw. His face was nothing like what she'd seen before. If it weren't for the distinctive scar on his forehead she couldn't tell who he was.

"We need to disinfect him before I can start reconstruction." The matron muttered.

"Use Fawkes." Dumbledore said quietly from his place in the corner, his arms folded, eyes fixed unflinchingly on Harry.

It surprised her when she registered the expression on his face…she'd never seen the headmaster this angry before, there was an air of venom about him that she could never have imagined on a person like him. "Fawkes's tears are much more potent than anything you can use."

The room fell silent after that as the three of them worked on with Dumbledore watching over them. Twice during what turned out to be an 8 hour period she saw Snape, a man she'd only ever seen once during an Order meeting who came to replenish their stocks of potions, both times keeping his eyes away from the lifeless body and leaving as soon as the task was done without a word. A little towards the latter end she noticed that Sirius had joined Dumbledore in his silent vigil.

It was well into daylight when the matron finally stopped, letting out a long sigh.

"We've done all we could."

"Condition?" Dumbledore asked, Fawkes now perched on his shoulder. Sirius was sitting silently on the floor beside him.

"Hard to say." The matron said grimly. "There was next to nothing left of his core and his body's been deteriorating prematurely. It'll be a while until I can say how he'll turn out."

"For now?"

"He'll live. But…"

"But." Sirius asked hoarsely.

"For how long, I can't say." Her voice cracked. "The damage done to him, he shouldn't be alive…no one should after this. The toll on his mind…I honestly think it'd be kinder to just…"

She found herself echoing Sirius's resounding 'No!', staring up at the matron in horror. "'Ow can you say zat?!"

"Because I don't want to wake him up if it means he's just going to die a painful death." The matron said, looking her in the eye. "It's not humane."

"If it comes to that." Dumbledore nodded curtly. "But I have faith in him. He survived this long after all."

It was half a day more before she was allowed to take a break, not that she complained…if she had a choice she'd continue assisting the nurse but was advised to rest, for Harry's sake and hers. As the matron reasoned, her being dead on her feet and commiting a mistake could undo all the work they've been doing.

Right now she was on the floor next to Sirius. She could hear voices outside but no one else came in. She saw Remus Lupin come in a few hours ago but one look at Harry seemed to have made him sick since he left the room almost immediately.

She hadn't seen him since.

Dumbledore was still there, the only change being his position from where he'd kept his silent vigil. Within the past few hours that she'd watched him, she'd seen more emotion from the man than she'd ever seen over the past few months. He couldn't seem to look at Harry's face though…that was one thing she'd noticed.

She could understand in a way.

She mostly kept her eyes averted as well, even as she worked if she could help it. She couldn't bear it, looking at his face would bring back the memories of the boy she'd spent most of her time insulting. The guilt was just too much.

Yes, she didn't know him that well…yet she'd been hard on him during the Tournament, even after he'd pulled her sister from the lake for her. She'd spent all her time thinking he was a good for nothing attention seeker like the rest of them. It's something she will never forgive herself for.

She honestly didn't know how he was still alive. He'd been systematically tortured to the point that it was sickening. He's nothing more than a corpse they were trying to breathe life into, but at the same time she was afraid of what might wake up. She knew what the matron was trying to say. The damage on his mind, just how well can a person's mentality cope when forced to such extremes?

It was painfully obvious he'd been subjected to the Cruciatus curse on an almost daily basis for hours on end. She knew the pain; she'd had it used on her that night at the graveyard. Those few seconds had felt like eternity. Just how could he have lived through it?

"Fleur. We need you here."

There was no pain.

How was that possible? Was his mind toying with him again?

Oh he was used to it…but that didn't mean he couldn't feel it. Hell, he'd even grown accustomed to it, the pain had been what told him he was still alive.

Now? Now there was no feeling. There was no pain…he only felt nothingness.

So does this mean…is it finally over?

His eyes snapped open.

Dark. It's all so dark.

Is this death? Was he finally given the release he needed?

"Not just yet."

Everything brightened up and suddenly…was he in a bed?

He looked around, his eyes narrowing at what he saw.

This was the Dursley home…he'd recognize his room anywhere. This was unmistakably his room in Privet Drive.

So…

He moved to get up when he felt something strange. No, perhaps 'felt' wasn't the right word.

What was 'feeling'? He felt like he couldn't describe it…which was appropriate for what he was feeling now.

He couldn't feel. His senses were gone…his arms and legs moved at his command but it felt like he wasn't the one controlling them.

"You're not dead yet dearest…" The voice from before crooned. Feminine. Familiar. "I told you-we have so much to do. I can't let you die...not yet."

His eyes widened when he saw her.

She smiled at him, although it was by far the most hideous smile he'd seen in his life. He could see the teeth where half the cheek should be. The right side of her face…where skin should be, there was only bone. Her right eye-where the eye should be there was only a dark circle.

"We're both one of a kind." She hummed, moving closer towards him. Even as she spoke he could see that the parts where the bone was, skin was slowly replacing it.

In fact, the left side of her face looked…human. Fair skin, he could see the pink where part of her lips were forming. Her eye, the left one, was gazing adoringly at him…

Her piercing violet eye…

There was such warmth in them. He felt drawn to her, but whereas that eye and her voice was soothing, almost alluring to him, everything else about her was just…vile.

Corrupted.

"What are you." He found himself saying, his voice reflecting the terror he was feeling. Her eye was so warm…he'd never seen anyone look at him with such tenderness, yet everything else about her was screaming something else.

"Hush…" She whispered, kneeling in front of him and placing her finger…a skeletal finger on his lips. "All you need to know is that I will be there for you from now on. I will never leave your side."

It was the way she said the last word that sent a chill down his spine.

Even as he was watching her skeletal features were disappearing. The hideous apparition in front of him transforming before his eyes, her face forming delicate features, her hand which was on his lips had moved to caressing his cheek. Where he'd initially felt nothing but bone, he now felt warmth from her touch.

It was then he saw it-his reflection on the mirror behind her.

His face-it looked like it was on the final stages of decay…flesh was peeling off where her hand was caressing his cheek.

"We'll see each other again soon my love."

This time there was light. Bright...warm.

Sunlight?

He opened his eyes slowly.

It felt strange letting so much light enter his eyes now. Almost painful in way.

That reminded him…

The pain was back. He could feel the numbness that was his body.

And yet it felt muted this time. It wasn't what he was used to, it all just felt strange.

He couldn't see…his eyesight was just blurry.

His glasses-where were they?

He reached out blindly, knocking something over in the process, the sound of metal causing him to wince, half expecting McNair's gleeful laughter to follow. Thankfully his hand found the familiar frame of his glasses.

The room that came into focus was familiar. It certainly was bright…almost pleasant. A far cry from the dark room he was so used to.

He glanced down, noting the bed covers on him. His chest was bare but he had a pair of shorts on. The rags were gone.

Where was he?

Was this real? He really didn't trust himself, his sense of reality was warped. His mind a jumbled mess.

There was a mirror beside him…on the table.

A pair of dull green eyes stared back at him. There were a few scars but the skin was still there…he could still remember his reflection from-

Was that a dream? Is this a dream?

Panic was settling in. He needed something…anything to tell him that he wasn't crazy.

The mirror…it was useless. He threw it away, the glass shattering. Wait…

He struggled to get up, his head spinning as he did. There was a piece of glass there, on the floor. A piece of glass from the mirror.

He reached for it, the simple act draining him as he felt his breath coming out in labored gasps. It was with great effort that he managed to close his fist around the jagged piece.

The pain was comforting…relieving even as he watched the blood trickle down his hand. It was such a familiar feeling that he didn't want it to go away. It was the one thing he could count on to remain constant.

There was another sound, louder than the one he'd made making him jerk violently, falling off the bed in the process. There were voices and suddenly there was someone right in front of him.

He only caught a brief look at the person's face before his mind clouded in panic when their hand touched his.

He fought back as hard as he could, kicking out with his feet and wrenching his hand away. He had nowhere to escape to. He could only feel the cold steel of the bed behind him.

The person tried to touch him again but he backed as far away as he could, hitting his head with a sickening crunch on the frame behind him.

The last thing he heard was Bellatrix's cackling laughter.

"Poppy!" Fleur yelled. "Daphne! Someone…'Elp!"

She was terrified. The hand she was using to support Harry's head was rapidly turning crimson.

There was a sound of a door banging open followed by loud footsteps. It seemed her cries were heard by almost everyone.

"What happened?!" Poppy cried. Sirius was behind her looking white as sheet and she could see the other girl who'd been helping them hovering behind them worriedly.

"'E was awake…" She glanced down at him, cradling his head carefully as she kept it elevated, allowing Poppy to inspect it. "'E fell off when I came in and when I tried to 'elp 'e reacted badly…I-" She felt everyone's gaze shift to her the moment her voice shook. The pure fear in his eyes as he'd looked at her was not something she'd be able to forget for a long time

"E was terrified."

"Could be. He doesn't know where he is." Poppy said grimly. "For all he knows he's still with those monsters. Did you see how he got that?" She was indicating the rather deep cut on his hand.

"I don't…" She saw the broken glass on the floor, a nasty piece lying just a few feet away. "I 'eard somezing so I came to check-"

"Doesn't matter-Daphne? Please escort Mr. Black outside."

"But…" Sirius began.

"Now!" Poppy barked, leaving no room for argument before turning back to her. "We can't move him without taking care of that first."

"I know." She said quietly, carefully moving his head to the side on her lap so they could inspect the wound. It was a nasty wound but it was by far the tamest one on him. Her initial fear was ebbing away slowly as they worked on it, well-Poppy did. She concentrated on stemming the blood flow.

She stayed quiet the entire time, doing her best to make Poppy's task easier in any way she can, but more times than not she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his face.

She felt dirty, that expression on his face when he'd looked at her made her feel more responsible than ever for him. The guilt was simply unbearable.

She signed up for the Order for the sole purpose of bringing him back. But this…it wasn't so simple.

The dark lord prided himself on many things, one of which is his transcendence to something more than just human.

The human emotions, the need for pleasure, the fear of pain, it was all so fascinating. He'd taken part in all of them, he remembered those sensations but they'd never interested him on a personal level. It was the reason why he never understood Bella and her rather questionable fascination with the boy.

The boy…

His fist clenched. The rage must've shown in his face as his followers rapidly backed away.

Not killing that boy was a mistake. A terrible mistake.

He took Bella from him. He lost his most prized lieutenant to him. In more ways than one.

"Did you love him?" He asked the lifeless body in front of him. "Is that what brought your end?"

Bellatrix's lifeless eyes simply stared back at him, but what enraged him was the smile she had on her face. She almost looked like she was at peace.

"Did you really love him so much that you're content in death?" He hissed.

The boy robbed him of her. Beaten, pathetic as he was he managed to take her.

But that wasn't enough for him.

No, the boy had chosen to humiliate him further.

The memory still ran shivers down his spine.

Harry Potter was not a boy anymore.

He was a monster. A monster capable of instilling fear.

He lashed out with his wand, Bellatrix's body incinerating in flames before his eyes.

The warmth did nothing to calm his beating heart. The anger, the humiliation, the fear…he was not used to this.

And he had only himself to blame.

AN: Bit shorter than I intended this one to be but I decided to push the rest to the next chapter since this seems like a good place to leave it. Next one should be a tad longer.

I must express my gratitude to all readers and especially to the reviewers. You guys are slowly reintroducing me to the positive aspects of writing and I'll always appreciate that.

I realize this particular story is not everyone's cup of tea though. The subject matter I've dealt with is a far cry from what 'His Angel' ever was but I feel a drastic change was needed. But, rest assured I've thrown the worst I can at you guys already. Believe me when I say I'm not that into writing 'dark' stuff all the time, especially not extremely disturbing things.

I know my plan for His Angel was for it to be a tragedy/open for interpretation kind of ending, but I feel we've already read far too many of those. So..I can't answer all the questions reviewers have asked, but one thing I will answer is that I have no intention of making this a tragedy.

The feel this must be stated again. The 'fallen' character is definitely inspired from the Dresden files. But as I've said before, you've got those types of characters/tropes everywhere. I will not be following the traditional route with this character either, as far as fanfiction goes.

Either way, witcher story update next. Whenever that may be. This one will follow soon after.