Chapter Text
“Potter?”
Blinking awake, Harry saw someone standing above him. What an unsettling sight to wake up to, he thought. This rather unpleasant awakening left him with two questions; how the hell did he get himself into this position, and why the hell was this person wearing a green tie? Green ties typically brought sneers and taunts and hexes — not a concerned face.
After blinking up at them a few more times, they continued speaking. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” Squinting, Harry tried to figure out any details about the boy, but without his glasses all he could really see was that there was no blond hair. At least Malfoy won’t be able to hex me while I can’t see him clearly. This mystery Slytherin, however, has curly light brown hair and blue? Yeah, blue eyes. Well, at least Harry thinks he does. It’s sort of hard to tell without his glasses and all.
“Have you seen my glasses?” Harry coughs, “I can’t see a thing.” His glasses are immediately placed in his outstretched hands. “Oh, thanks. Uh, what exactly happened?” Now that he has his glasses, he can actually see the boy in front of him and he was right! He has curly hair and blue eyes. His eyes widen as he scans his surroundings; tall trees covered in spiderwebs that glisten in the full moon’s light, rocks covered in dirt and mud, and the Whomping Willow off to his left. He can feel his heartbeat speeding up with each passing second without a response. Looking back at the boy — Theodore Nott, if he remembers correctly — Harry does the only thing his panic-addled mind will allow; stare at him. He stares long enough that a wrinkle begins to form between Nott’s eyes, so he figures he should ask another pressing question. “And why am I in the forest?”
He doesn’t get an immediate answer, but he can see Nott working through what to say. Is what happened really that bad? I guess I can try and figure it out myself. It’s a bit more difficult than he expected to try to remember what happened, the only thing he knows that for sure happened is going to Buckbeak’s execution and finding Scabbers in Hagrid’s Hut, but after that it all becomes a bit fuzzy. Images of what he assumes are his memories flash in his mind; a shaggy black dog that looks like it’s been living off scraps for months — Sirius, his mind supplies. Scabbers turning into a man? Stunning Snape with Ron and Hermione. Agreeing to live with Sirius this summer and never having to go to the Dursleys ever again. Professor Lupin transforming into a werewolf right in front of him, followed by an entire horde of dementors that are just itching to suck out his soul. And then finally, finally the hospital wing. How he ended up back in the forest after all of that is a mystery, so he’s really counting on Nott to fill in the blanks.
Still waiting for a response, he winces as a dull ache slowly blooms behind his eyes and a wave of nausea passes through him. I definitely hit my head somehow. Noticing his wince, and with a nod to himself Nott finally responds. “I don’t know why you were in the forest,” well shit. “However, I saw you get thrown into this tree by a Grim. It looked like,” he paused for a second, and Harry saw the slightest narrowing of his eyes, almost as if collecting his thoughts. Or perhaps making sense of them. Eventually, he lets out a puff of air and finishes his explanation. “It looked like it was protecting you from a werewolf.” A few moments pass between them in complete silence where Nott just stares at him as if expecting an explosion of sorts, which to be fair, would have been his reaction had Harry not seen Professor Lupin become a werewolf in front of his eyes.
There really is only one response to this, Harry thinks. Maybe it isn’t the best one since, you know, a Slytherin he barely knows anything about is the one who found him unconscious in the forbidden forest, but it’s the only option he can come up with at the moment. The hat put him in Gryffindor for a reason after all. “Oh. That. Yeah I already know about the werewolf.” Wincing at his lack of tact, he watches as Nott’s eyes slightly widen before he manages to school his expression back into the default Slytherin mask. The only remnant of his surprise that Harry can see is the slight fluttering of his fingers. “If it makes you feel any better it was only Professor Lupin. And the dog is my godfather, Sirius, not a Grim.” Shit! I wasn’t supposed to say that. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought? Tilting his head, he continued, “I think something is wrong with me because I did not want to say that. Do you think you could just forget about all of it? Say, what were you doing out here anyway? I can’t imagine too many Slytherins would want to help Harry Potter after seeing him get knocked out. Send a hex my way sure, but helping?” he shakes his head. “Doubtful. I think you might be the only one who would’ve helped anyway considering I never see you hovering around Malfoy. You’re probably the only Slytherin with a working brain if I’m being honest. Y’know, 'Mione has been whinging about how you’re the one thing stopping her from the top spot in Ancient Runes. Says that you’re really smart too. Oh! Maybe you could help—”
“Potter, I think you should stop talking.” Rude. He clamps his mouth shut despite Nott’s rude interruption and stares at him again, taking a moment to examine him. He doesn’t look like a typical Slytherin at the moment; no sneer, no unbreakable mask of unflinching indifference, no perfect proper posture. In fact, Theodore Nott seems to be the complete opposite; brows furrowed, eyes wide with that same concerned look in his eyes, freckles standing out against unnaturally pale skin, hands outstretched and still fluttering slightly, almost as if he wants to reach out but isn’t quite sure if he should, crouching in mud and… Blood? That’s my blood, holy shit. Nott’s still talking, something about having a conversation about all of this later, but Harry isn’t listening anymore. He’s only focused on the rapidly growing pool of blood. Of his blood.
“Um, Nott?” he interrupts, glancing at Nott and blinking rapidly, trying to squash down the growing dread from taking root in his chest. He pauses his speech to look at Harry, who gestures to the puddle of blood. “I think one of us is bleeding out.” A pause. “And I think perhaps you were right about the talking thing. I can’t seem to stop the words from flowing through my brain and out of my mouth. It seems my filter has stopped. Maybe… Now hear me out on this one okay — maybe the blood loss has something to do with it. Because that is a lot of blood and I just don’t see how that can be good for me.” Finally risking a glance at the puddle of blood, all the color drains out of Nott’s face, and he just stares back and forth between Harry and the puddle, which — rude, he could use an answer right about now! Looking down, he notices where the blood is coming from. His left leg. From a bite. Potentially a werewolf bite.
Another beat passes before some color seeps back into Nott’s face with his brows drawn together. If he keeps doing that he’ll get a permanent wrinkle. A laugh bubbles up out of Harry at the thought, quiet at first, but quickly descending into full belly laughs that he can’t quite stop. A few moments later his fun was interrupted by a weary sigh. “Alright Potter. I have a plan.” About time one of us does. “I do not know any healing charms well enough to perform them on you, especially without disinfecting the bite properly since I have no clue if it was from the werewolf or the Grim, so I am going to tightly wrap my cloak around your leg where the bleeding is coming from. Then I am going to help you up and we will walk to the hospital wing as fast as you can. Okay?” After receiving an affirmative nod he immediately begins to wrap his leg.
“Ow! Merlin that— agh bloody hell! Jesus, you didn’t tell me it would hurt that much!” Harry scowls at Nott, less effectively than he’d like considering he seems to be ignoring him at the moment, but the thought still counts. With one last tug on the makeshift bandage, Nott presses a ring into Harry’s thigh and mutters something under his breath, instantly causing a numbing sensation to spread through his leg. I need to get one of those things. Dusting his hands on his cloak, Nott stands and holds his hand out for him to take. Harry takes it and after a few seconds of struggling to stand himself, he lets Nott help and manages to stay upright. Nott has positioned himself so he has one arm wrapped around Harry’s waist, and the other holding onto the hand Harry has draped across his shoulders. He glances at Nott and feels a flush bloom across his face when he realizes just how close they are — his nose would brush against his cheek if he was any closer for Merlin’s sake!
“Now the hard part.” That wasn’t the hard part? “You have to walk without passing out. I do not think I could carry you all the way without a levitation charm, but I am not confident enough in my ability for the charm to hold long enough, so we are going to do this the hard way. Try to keep talking, but do try not to babble about anything you do not want me to know. I will not ask any questions while we walk. I will, however, be asking questions once you are in a normal state. Come on, we should start walking now before the werewolf and Grim come back.” With that, they begin the slow, painful journey back to the castle.
The trek to the hospital wing is extremely difficult to say the least. He tripped a few times before they even got to Hagrid’s, but the real problems started when they reached the stairs. His leg went completely numb about halfway to the castle, so the stairs took them twice as long as they should have since he had to hop up each one. Which brings them to their next obstacle; the moving staircases. These, Harry thinks, are the worst part of the entire castle. By far. So far he has managed to hop onto every single vanishing step they’ve encountered. His only saving grace is Nott’s quick reflexes. His reflexes, however, cannot always be perfect.
About halfway to the hospital wing Harry mistimed his hop and missed a step — not even a vanishing step — causing the both of them to stumble into each other. Harry lost his balance resulting in him resting all his weight on Nott, which caused them both to fall down the stairs they had just walked up. Luckily they only lost a few steps worth of progress. A sharp intake of breath by his side had him looking at Nott, who had a grimace on his face and looked like he had something to say, but decided against it. Standing, they repositioned themselves and continued the painful journey to the hospital wing, somehow at an even slower pace than before.
By the time they reached the last step Harry began feeling a bit light-headed, so he can only be thankful when he turns the corner to see the doors to the hospital wing. He thinks he blabbed at least two more secrets that he didn’t want to — the cupboard and the fact he was almost sorted into Slytherin — but at least Nott stuck to his word and didn’t ask any questions. The only acknowledgement of him being heard at all was when Nott squeezed his hand with a sharp intake of breath.
By the time they reached the doors Harry was actually being dragged, resting all of his weight on Nott again as a fresh wave of nausea swept over him. Looking around the room for Madam Pomfrey they saw she was in her office. It took her a moment to notice them, but once she did she hurried over to them, speaking so quickly Harry was having trouble keeping up. “How on earth did this happen Mr. Potter! You were just in that bed next to Mr. Weasley! And where has Miss Granger gone! I leave you three alone for one minute! I swear…” She continues fussing over him, something about getting into as much trouble as your father Mr. Potter!, but Harry has to tune her out. All he can focus on besides the throbbing in his head is the fact that, according to Madam Pomfrey, he was just in here. In the hospital wing. Next to Ron. With Hermione. Except that clearly cannot be true considering he’s currently bloody bleeding out from a bite wound!
Oh Merlin! The bite! The potential werewolf bite on his leg, currently the cause of his blood loss and humiliation and secret spewing nonsense! He can’t possibly go back to the Dursley’s house if he becomes a werewolf! They would actually kick him out this time. Especially after what he did to Aunt Marge last summer. There is not a single chance that Aunt Petunia would allow a werewolf in her house, considering she barely allows him in her house. Hopefully we can clear Sirius’s name before I need to go back. Would his friends still stick by his side? He can’t remember what their reactions were to Professor Lupin, but hopefully this wouldn’t change anything between them. They have been through too much together to let him potentially being a werewolf drive a wedge between them.
“Excuse me?” Harry is startled out of his thoughts as Nott clears his throat to get Madam Pomprey’s attention. “Madam Pomfrey, could we possibly get him back into a bed and treated? He is rather heavy to drag all the way from the woods and up all the moving staircases, and he is quite possibly bleeding out from a bite on his leg. He has lost quite a bit of blood since I found him unconscious, and I don’t exactly know how he got his wound, however it is either from a Grim or a werewolf, so I think it would be imperative to treat his wound rather quickly. It would not be a pleasant day for anyone if Harry Potter died from an untreated werewolf bite. He has been spilling all of his secrets to me — it seems he has lost enough blood for his filter to be nonexistent. His leg stopped moving completely about halfway here, however I did use my ring magic to numb the wound, so that could be the cause of it.” A sharp intake of breath. “Now, will you be levitating him to a bed or would you like me to drag him the last bit?” Harry doesn’t think he has ever heard Nott talk that much, well, ever. He is so thoroughly gobsmacked by it, and the fact that he seemed to be defending Harry — and to Madam Pomfrey no less! — that he doesn’t even make a fuss as he is levitated into his bed. As soon as he’s in the bed she begins assessing his wound and performing a few scans with her wand that he’s never seen before, and immediately gives him a potion. Madam Pomfrey should really put a plaque with my name on this bed. I’m here enough as it is.
“Excuse me? Madam Pomfrey,” she glances at him in between her scans with a small frown on her face, so he figures it’s okay to continue. “Um… do you think we should put my name on this bed?” Another look, this one sharper and more focused. He receives a similar look from Nott as well. “It’s just that, well, I always seem to end up in here so perhaps we should make it known that this is my bed. I’ve only ever used this one so it seems rather fitting that we should add a plaque. Ooh! Maybe we could actually name it after me! That would get the message across rather well I think. Also, I’ve been thinking. I don’t actually know how I got back into the forest. All I remember is going to Buckbeak’s execution with Ron and Hermione, we really wanted to be there for Hagrid you see. He was quite upset about the whole thing. Turns out Scabbers — Ron’s rat — has been in Hagrid’s Hut this whole time! We thought Hermione’s cat had killed him, but he was just hiding.” Madam Pomfrey and Nott share a look this time, but Harry ignores them and continues on.
“It all becomes a bit blurry after that, but apparently Scabbers has been an animagus this whole time because he turned into a man. Which— ugh! Ron let that rat sleep in his bed! Oh! And by the way, Sirius Black — my godfather — didn’t betray my parents. It was Peter Pettigrew, otherwise known as Scabbers. Ron’s rat.” He manages to spit out accompanied by the nastiest glare he can manage. Maybe I should get Ron a new pet? “Professor Lupin and Snape met us in the Shrieking Shack where Sirius — not a Grim by the way — and Peter turned into themselves. But me, Ron, and Hermione stunned Snape before he could get Sirius. Don’t worry, it was for a good reason! He was about to kill Sirius! I couldn’t let that happen after I found someone who could take me away from the Dursleys!” He holds his hands up in a placating gesture and looks between Madam Pomfrey and Nott, taking in their shocked expressions. They both have a similar frown with wide eyes and slightly raised brows.
“Anyways, the next thing I remember is Professor Lupin turning into a werewolf followed by an entire horde of dementors floating down to me, Hermione, and Sirius. And then finally, finally I woke up here. For my first visit. I still don’t know how I ended up back in the woods. Maybe Hermione knows.” He looks around, then looks at Madam Pomfrey. “Where is she by the way? Wasn’t she with us the first time?” She doesn’t grace him with a response, but the look he receives is the same one she saves to use on Ron when he just won’t stop talking every time he’s visiting Harry. She’s never used it on him before, and he shrinks back a bit feeling slightly chastised.
The quiet stretches for a few awkward moments that have Harry squirming in place before Madam Pomfrey turns to Nott, “I understand what you mean about the blood loss and the lack of filter Mr. Nott. If I remember correctly you asked about an apprenticeship with me for your fourth year, yes?” After receiving an affirming nod, she continues. “Then I suggest you stay and watch the process for checking a potential werewolf bite. It is a bit different from when we are certain a wound is from a werewolf, and it is best taught with real life practice, not from reading a textbook. Were this a normal wound a little dittany, a blood replenisher, and healing charms would suffice. However, we need to first determine if this is, in fact, a werewolf bite.” She takes a moment and looks at Harry. “Hopefully for your sake Mr. Potter it is not. We can determine this by using a charm, watch my wand movement closely. Now it should only be a few minutes until the results.”
They all collectively hold their breath while waiting for the results in silence. It’s not all that uncomfortable, but It is such a contrast from a moment ago that Harry can’t help it when he starts to feel the roots of his panic taking root again. I could potentially be a werewolf! Maybe Nott was onto something when he just kept him talking; he didn’t have any time to think about it. Before his panic can truly begin to take root the scan completes, and a scroll is deposited into Madam Pomfrey’s waiting hands.
As she begins to read the results she breathes sharply through her nose, followed by a quite sigh of relief. “You are in luck tonight Mr. Potter. It isn’t a werewolf bite. It seems to be from an animagus. While not nearly as life threatening as a werewolf bite, you might have some side effects that we can talk about more in the morning. Nothing too damaging. Now, I am going to give you a dreamless sleeping draught, no arguments Mr. Potter! You are experiencing extreme shock and have lost too much blood for my liking, so to prevent any outbursts such as your last you will be taking it. I will not have any patient of mine feeling discomfort because he refuses to listen! Now, just try to relax whilst I gather potions, I will only be a minute. Mr. Nott, you are welcome to stay and observe if that is okay with Mr. Potter.” With that she walks away leaving him and Nott alone.
A few moments of quiet pass between them before either of them speaks. Harry uses this time to get another look at Nott since the only time he has was when he was still kind of out of it. The potion he was given must have been a calming draught or something to clear his head, because he can actually focus on little details. He also doesn’t want to blurt out every thought he thinks. Nott is sort of slouched in a way Harry doesn’t think he has ever seen a Slytherin slouch before, and he has deep purple bruises under his eyes, his skin is still that same unnaturally pale shade at the moment – probably a side effect from seeing so much blood — and his hands are covered in blood. His leg must have been bleeding worse than he thought. His curls are sticking every which way, some are plastered to his face with sweat, while others have blood streaked throughout them from him running his hands through them.
After a few more moments, the quiet becomes too much for Harry, and it seems like he’ll have to be the one to break it. “I’m sorry for getting so much blood on you.” Nott glances at him but makes no move to speak, so Harry continues. “And that you had to drag me up here. You didn’t have to help at all really, so thank you.” Nott raises an eyebrow as his lips slightly part. “Also, you can stay and watch what Madam Pomfrey does if you want. I don’t mind.” Harry shrugged. That gets him a reaction.
“Are you sure?” He sits up straighter while clasping his hands in his lap, and looks directly at Harry. “I know I would be uncomfortable with someone I have only spoken to once, the first time being today, who I previously thought was an enemy, to watch me be medically treated whilst unconscious. So I understand if you would prefer I leave.” Even covered in sweat and blood Nott looks the definition of ‘Perfect Pureblood Son’ at the moment; sitting perfectly straight with clasped hands, an almost blank look on his face to hide his true feelings, and he’s even wearing a matching brooch and ring set.
“No, really! I don’t mind at all. It’ll be good for your apprentice thingy next year.” He looks to the doors and puffs out a short breath. “And besides, someone will need to be here to explain everything to Hermione whenever she gets back. I’m actually looking forward to being unconscious when she storms in here. She won’t be able to lecture me about always ending up here again.” He flashes a smile at Nott.
“Well in that case I will stay.” He takes a slow breath in through his nose and huffs out a sigh. “However, I do not think Granger will take too kindly to me being the only one in here that can explain what happened.”
Harry furrows his brows and twists his mouth down. “What? Why—”
“Okay Mr. Potter. Here is the dreamless sleeping draught and another potion that will allow you to wake up in less pain than you should. Now, is Mr. Nott staying or leaving.” She bustles over to them, effectively interrupting Harry’s thoughts. She hands him two potions that he drinks immediately, and he can already feel them starting to take effect.
After drinking the potions his eyelids start to feel heavy, so he looks over to Madam Pomfrey before he loses consciousness. “He can stay for his apprentice practice, I don’t mind. And so he can explain to 'Mione what happened when she gets back” A slow blink. “Oh! And can you tell Ron that I’ll get him… that I’ll… that…”
The last thing Harry can see before he succumbs to the darkness is a brisk nod from Madam Pomfrey that shows she heard him, and the same concerned look from the forest from Nott.