Chapter 43: Haunted Hospital

He hadn't promised he'd visit—of course not—but Sans wouldn't be much of an acquaintance-friend if he didn't at least stop by the Hospital Wing to check that Laura was alright. She had been set on fire the previous evening, after all, and he knew that could be rather stressful.

Not that he had ever caught himself on fire, of course, but he also hadn't always been as good with his blasters as he is currently. It had taken practice, and there had been a few notable (and destructive) mistakes way back when he had first been learning.

And that wasn't even considering some more mundane fire accidents he'd witnessed, typically whenever Undyne was set loose in a kitchen.

Sirius—currently a dog, of course—pulled him from his thoughts with a barked question. From the considering look his friend was giving the hallway they were in, and the snarky way he had phrased his woof, he clearly knew where they were going and and was just checking.

"if you think we're headed to the hospital wing, then you'd be correct," Sans replied, nodding. "gotta check up on somebody there."

The golden retriever huffed.

Sans couldn't help but roll his eyes at the canine sass. "c'mon, i have loads of friends other than you and moon-moon. you met some just a few hours ago."

He made sure to say it like it was natural—because it was, technically—and to never let on that he was actually a bit unsettled by the idea. Sure, he had known a lot of monsters back in the Underground, but most of his genuine friendships had… withered, after the resets. It just got hard to put in the effort for small talk and hanging out and little things like that. Not when time might roll back at any moment.

Slightly annoyed by all these melancholy thoughts—stirred up by all the socializing he'd been doing, no doubt—Sans shook his head. They'd just arrived at the doors to the Hospital Wing, after all, and he didn't need these bittersweet memories vying for his attention right now.

(Or ever. It was generally best to ignore them.)

With a touch of blue magic to hold open the heavy door, Sans—followed closely by Sirius—ducked into the clinic.

Though, now that he was actually seeing the place, calling it a hospital really was more suitable.

The large space was a far cry from the small nurse's office he remembered at the school Frisk had attended on the surface. That elementary school clinic had just one bed, and took up maybe the same amount of space as a particularly nice bathroom.

In contrast, this clinic was clearly equipped with everything one could need to tend to nearly any ill or injury a student might stumble in with: there were six beds with curtain dividers, cabinets with cloths and bandages, as well as potions and tinctures of all sorts.

Toriel would have probably loved it.

Of course, she also would have put in a lot of work to update the décor to something a bit more modern and less… antique vintage. But that's beside the point, since literally everything in the wizarding world had a serious case of the drafty-medieval and needed a thorough revamp.

Anyway, for a guy who'd only been inside the castle for less than two full days, Sans had spent a remarkable amount of time exploring. That said, though, he hadn't dropped by the infirmary at all before now. This was for a variety of mostly obvious reasons: say, for example, the fact that he wasn't actually human.

To be perfectly honest, he probably would have continued to avoid the place like the plague (hah!) if circumstances and common decency hadn't prompted this visit.

"anyone alive in here?" he called, glancing between the different curtained hospital beds. "if you've died, speak now or forever hold your peace."

A reply came from the second bed on the left. "I'm just a tad singed, Sans, not dead."

"that sounds like something a zombie would say," he replied, adopting a falsely accusatory tone as he walked over.

Laura smiled when he pushed aside the curtain, wryly glad for a distraction. "Who's to say I'm not undead?"

Sans pretended to consider that. "well, takes one to know one."

She snorted, though she didn't quite get the joke.

Save for the damp-looking cloth she was holding to her temple—probably soaked in some kind of potion—Laura looked mostly fine. Though he could see the edge of a burn under her compress, whatever was left of her hair had been mostly hidden under a striped knit cap.

The hat was actually fairly interesting in itself; it was yellow and black, topped with a pom-pom, but Sans had reason to suspect that it hadn't always been those colors. Or that shape, given the magical new-ness of the tuft on the top.

He smiled to himself, already having guessed at why those changes had been made. Last minute gifts could be tricky, after all.

Sirius seemed to notice the cap, too, as he gave it a curious sniff. This was followed swiftly by a surprised sneeze. Somewhat incredulous, the dog glanced between the hat, the girl, and Sans; he had a very distinct 'no way' kind of expression.

Well, Sans had told Malfoy to apologize. Granted, this wasn't quite what he had meant by that, but he'd accept it for now.

"new hat?"

Nodding, Laura looked vaguely embarrassed. "Somebody must have stopped by earlier, but I fell asleep at some point and, uhm…"

"that boring here, is it?"

"Madam Pomfrey won't let me leave yet, which basically means I'm stuck in this bed or pacing around an empty room." She shrugged. "What do you think?"

Flopping bonelessly (somehow) into a nearby chair, he stretched and yawned. "that sounds fantastic. you get to stay in bed, and nobody can even judge you for it."

That earned him a chuckle.

"anyway, i guess they couldn't swish and make it better, huh?" Sans asked, pantomiming a waved wand from his slumped position.

He knew green magic could restore burnt hair, given a deft enough practitioner; otherwise a certain monster prince would have spent a lot of time with goofy-looking scorched patches on his furry ears. Still, given he had read about a potion that could completely regrow bones, hair repair seemed an odd place to draw the line.

"They can fix it, but it's easier and safer to wait a few days first." Laura reached up and tucked a few more blackened strands under the knit cap. "Madam Pomfrey said that jinx is usually used in pranks, like for a candle that keeps lighting up again after you blow it out. But that means if you're not really careful, you risk starting up again or something."

"huh."

He knew that humans on his side of the void had birthday candles like that, and those hadn't needed magic to work. They probably had them here, too, assuming they'd been invented by now.

"Also," she continued, side-eyeing him for a moment, "she said that getting soaked by all that water was really lucky, because trying to put it out with a charm could've gotten bad."

Having successfully avoided any questions about that so far, he just gave a noncommittal hum and changed the subject. "so when will the nurse let you go?"

Or at least attempted to change the subject. Laura looked set on following her previous topic, but she didn't get the chance to.

Because somebody else beat her to the punch.

"I have to wonder where that water came from," remarked an unfamiliar voice, "since I could have sworn there were fish in it, too."

The newcomer was an older student, probably a sixth or seventh year. And, from the colors on his robe, he was a member of Hufflepuff house, like Laura. He had a small loosely-wrapped paper parcel, and didn't look injured or sick or anything, so it seemed a safe bet that he was here to visit her.

Laura smiled and gave him a small wave. "Hello again, Mr. Diggory."

"Really? 'Mr. Diggory'?" the student repeated, chuckling lightly as he walked over to join them. "It's just Cedric. I'm a prefect, not a professor!"

Sirius tilted his head to the side, trying to place where he'd heard that name before. From the scowl on his furry forehead, he didn't have much luck.

"What're you doing here?" asked Laura, shooting a glance to a door at the other end of the hall that Sans hadn't noticed earlier. "Madam Pomfrey isn't in her office right now."

He waved that point away, holding up his small paper bundle. "I brought biscuits."

"Say no more," Laura said, smiling.

Sans was briefly confused as to why it was biscuits, of all the food he could have brought, before remembering that actually meant cookies. Which made a bit more sense.

Cedric handed out the treats, one for each of them with a few left over.

"So you must be Sans," he said, handing him his cookie.

"that's me." Not particularly enthused about the food, Sans still ended up taking it: felt like it'd be rude not to, even if he didn't plan on eating.

The older student—at least going on current appearance—gave him a friendly smile. "You know," he began, tone perfectly innocuous, "I saw what you did in the hallway back then."

Sirius sneezed.

What a shame, and here Sans had been hopeful that that topic had been overshadowed by the arrival of cookies.

"saw what?" he tried, though it was a fairly half-hearted attempt.

"So that was you." Laura crossed her arms, nodding to herself. "I thought it might have been accidental magic, but looking back, I really didn't think it was mine."

"It was very… directed for accidental magic," Cedric mused aloud, looking somewhat skeptical.

(Sans blamed the fish for that.)

Briefly rocking his chair to what should have been a nearly impossible angle to keep steady with just two legs on the floor, the disguised skeleton thought about what he should say. His illusory eyes wandered a bit, as if the perfect reply was written on the wall.

And then—since reality apparently still wanted to mess with him, even after yesterday—he noticed a transparent figure had just drifted through the stone above them.

That's not good.

The ghost blinked at him, then her eyes grew wide. "Oh!" She clapped transparent hands together, clearly excited. "It's you! We've all been wondering where you were, you know. Now stay there. I'll be right back!"

"What?" Cedric asked, intelligently.

"crap."

And, with a transparent smile, she immediately swept back through the wall.

"no no no— wait!" Sans half stood from his seat, instinctively reaching out after her with more than just his hands. Nearly invisible strands of blue caught nothing but wisps, thankfully, and the magic was canceled out an instant after his mind caught up to his reflexes.

Freezing untouchable non-entities with magic would probably raise some questions.

Laura peered between him and the patch of wall through which the ghost had departed, puzzling over the odd interaction. "You know each other or something?"

"uh…" Returning his attention to her, Sans shrugged and tried to wave away his previous nerves. "no, not really."

She squinted at him, wisely not taking his nonchalance at face value. "Well, she seemed to know you."

"did she? i hadn't noticed."

"Ghosts…" Cedric frowned slightly, thinking that over, before making the connection and giving Sans a curious look. "I heard a rumor going about that the ghosts were all worked up over some first year. That was you, then?"

Both unsurprised and unhappy that the ghosts' chatter had reached living ears, Sans sighed. "yeah, that was me. but—" he was quick to add, "it's not really a big deal, just annoying."

Laura snorted, unconvinced. "That one just said they've all been looking for you. And I'm pretty sure a good portion of the school heard them at breakfast yesterday."

Of course they did; as if having all that second-hand gossip floating around wasn't bad enough, he had forgotten to take into account all the students that had first-hand gossip. Just great.

Sans shrugged, his forced nonchalance looking as genuine as ever. "yeah, they're apparently convinced that they can touch me. they've been haunting me since." He paused. "or maybe 'hunting' would be a better word…"

Tail wagging, Sirius gave a suspiciously laugh-like huff.

"anyway…" He edged toward the door, senses already registering ghostly activity coming his way. "it was good seeing you, laura. hope you get better soon and all that jazz."

"Why not just let them catch you?" asked Cedric, brow raised.

And there it is: the question he was hoping nobody would think to ask. Luckily he had an excuse ready—or at least the framework of one, even if he wasn't sure it could stand too much scrutiny. Still, delivering a lie with full confidence usually did wonders for its believability.

"i have a skin condition, though it's really more of a full-body deal."

That thin edge between truth and lie apparently jammed right into Sirius's funny bone, as the golden retriever nearly doubled over as he desperately tried not to laugh.

"basically," Sans continued, stealthily nudging his canine friend with his foot to get him to focus, "it means i'm very sensitive to magic, so stuff like that is very uncomfortable and thoroughly unsettling."

There was a bit of truth to that as well: ghosts were cold in a way Sans, as a skeleton, hardly ever had to deal with. And he had decided that he didn't like it.

"Is that why your hair is…" Laura drifted off, gesturing to the white strands.

Taking another step back toward the door, Sans just shrugged. "i guess you could say that's kinda related."

Sirius wheezed.

Before Sans could get any closer to the door, however, he had to jerk to the left to avoid stepping on the spectral man rising up through the floor—feathered hat and all. Nearly Headless Nick's head turned to face him, smiling triumphantly.

"Ah!" The ghost swept his hat from his head to bow in greeting, and Sans took a step back to make sure he remained outside its feathered range. "It's been difficult to catch up to you, young man, but I am glad we have another chance to talk now."

"yeah, super glad."

It was too late to escape now: a few more ghosts had already drifted in, including the one he'd actually interacted with. The Fat Friar was eyeing him with open curiosity, though he did look a tad chastised when Sans leveled his annoyed gaze on him.

Surprisingly—or perhaps unsurprisingly, since he is a Hufflepuff—Cedric stood up and positioned himself squarely between Sans and the nearest ghost, hands held up in a gesture that was both placating and defensive. The move was appreciated, even if he wouldn't really be able to do much if the specter chose to just glide right through him.

…Which gave Sans an idea.

The ghosts thought that they might actually be able to touch him, true, but they didn't know for sure. So all he needed to do was show them that he was just as intangible to them as everybody else.

Or rather, he needed to convince them of that.

Maybe this plan was a little dumb, and very much a gamble on how the ghosts would react, but he didn't have much choice; he couldn't very well take a shortcut with all these witnesses. No matter how tempting the idea might be.

Thankfully Cedric had the ghosts distracted at the moment, busy explaining the situation behind the definitely real 'skin condition' and trying to get them all to back off. Sans doubted that it would work, but it at least gave him a chance to prepare.

And a chance to test something real quick.

Stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his school robe, he made a thin shell of blue magic over his pinky finger. Double checking that it was as tight to the bone as possible—and as solid as he could make it without a noticeable shine—Sans then carefully popped the finger off, keeping the blue shell in place.

Surreptitiously glancing down, he counted up his apparent fingers.

Dang.

The glamour didn't include the finger he'd removed, despite the ephemeral outline of blue magic still filling in for his pinky. That would have been convenient, but alas, it was not to be. He made a mental note to ask Sirius if he could perhaps update that: being able to shed body parts to become apparently intangible could be a handy skill to have.

Not least of all for the possibility of being able to leave decoy Sans-es lying around if he needed too. Seems like that'd be useful.

Anyway, his plan could still work. It just had to be a bit more… old-school.

Still keeping an eye on the ghosts, who were still arguing with the Hufflepuff prefect, Sans tapped his pinky finger back into place and let his arm hang relaxed by his side. The sleeve was long enough to cover his hand, which was very important. Then, being very careful to keep his clothes still, he performed a very tricky (and uncomfortable) teleport.

Little known fact about his shortcuts: he can be very selective with what does and does not get carried through. Up to and including his individual bones.

So, when he teleported, he didn't move all of himself.

Just his right arm, actually, which reappeared all the way back on his floor-mattress in Grimmauld Place: it was a bit far, but he figured his limb would be safest there.

And by removing his arm, he had just emptied out his sleeve.

Well, empty save for the magic he was spending to keep it looking as if his arm was still there. Which shouldn't interact with the ghost-pseudo-SOUL unless he actively willed it to do so. Hopefully.

That was the gamble part.

Well, time to get the show on the road before he started second (or third) guessing himself.

"alright, fine," he said loudly, gaining everyone's attention as he strode forward into the group of ghosts, "i'm not gonna like it, but if it'll make you all stop…"

Turning to the transparent figure on his right—the Fat Friar, what a coincidence—Sans braced himself, then whiffed his 'arm' through the ghost's body. He exaggerated his grimace, but it wasn't really faked: a sense of cold made its way through the blue magic filling out the empty sleeve, settling a chill in his ribcage before fading.

While the friar—as well as the rest of the ghosts present—stared down at his untouched gut, Sans took advantage of their surprise to simply walk past them to the door. He didn't want to risk hanging around and having some still-curious ghost take a wack at him.

"hopefully that clears things up," he stated simply.

Not giving anyone a chance to try and ask further questions, he quickly opened the door and stepped out. Though before it shut behind him all the way, Sans did notice something that made him just a bit worried: the Fat Friar patting his belly, looking much too thoughtful for comfort. Hopefully the ghost hadn't noticed anything odd.

And then he was out, and he could teleport his arm back to its proper place. Doing stuff like that always felt so weird.

Sirius barked once, and gave him a canine grin.

"we'll just have to wait and see," Sans replied, sighing.

Stars, he just hoped things started going smoothly from here on. Or at least more smoothly than his first set of classes and this latest ghost fiasco.

At all smoothly.

It would be a nice change.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

C'mon, reality: throw the poor guy a bone.

I was planning on posting after I got home from work yesterday, but my brother dropped by for dinner and by the time I was free again it was time to sleep. And the wasn't my choice, by the way; I sat down to do more edits and sorta… stopped being awake.

Sans, with your perpetual exhaustion: how do you do it, man? Share with me your wisdom, oh tired one.

Anyway, usual updates are on the first of the month. I'm clearly just crap sometimes.
Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows!

Also, and I'm not sure how stupid of an idea this is, but I've been considering making a Discord thing. Not really sure how, at this point, but would anyone be interested?

See ya on the flipside, everyone!