Chapter Text
The first thought after the flare of pain on the side of his head is a jumble of words mashed together in a sort of detached shock. Shock in a sort of, wow, I just got pushed, way. Then, a shot of panic shot through him, along with the adrenaline fading out of his system to the white-hot flare of pain. It made his ears ring and his eyes water and his head was just absolutely throbbing.
The second thought goes a little something like this: this regeneration is going a little wrong. I usually have a handle on it.
(Earth digging into her back—pain pain pain. Staring unblinkingly into the false sky, where it would always be cloudy and dreary. She couldn't help but think—
I hoped there'd be stars in the sky.)
He squeezed his eyes shut, feels hands touchingcrawling—
Something wet and warm trickles down the side of his head. The ringing is getting duller, but the pounding stays insistently loud. He, the boy, Harry—Harry? Harold? Was it not a name... Ma... no, Mi—
Hilarity slips in when he finally catches himself. In that little spot of clarity before he slips out of consciousness and the darkness catches him, ever so gently. Harry—Harry?—thinks,
What's a regeneration?