Work Text:
Text taken directly from MBM’s TSS14 -
She awoke to a rocking sensation, and it didn't take her long to realize she was being carried in someone's arms as they walked. Rigel's nose picked out the smell of aconite, among other herbs used in the potion she'd been brewing with Professor Snape what seemed like a lifetime ago, and she pried her eyelids apart to see her Head of House's shoulder an inch from her nose. She blinked, and a small spot of what was probably her own drool on the fabric came into focus. That was embarrassing, she thought vaguely, and attempted to lift her head.
She hissed softly as her neck voiced its objection to the movement, apparently content to remain resting against Snape's overcoat, but she was able to lull her head backwards enough to see Snape flick his eyes down at her face assessing.
"We are in route to the Headmaster's office," Snape informed her without being prompted, "The Headmaster feels explanations are warranted at this time, despite the obvious trauma that has been inflicted upon you and Miss Weasley. If you feel unable to process things at this time, I will, of course, see you excused to the Hospital Wing at once."
His tone indicated he meant to see her excused to the Hospital Wing in any case, but Rigel felt she would rather everything were over with at once. After taking stock of her body, she felt surprisingly fine.
"Did the phoenix heal everything?" She croaked out. Her throat was uncomfortably dusty, but her words were at least comprehensible.
"One fractured rib, scraped palms, broken ankle, numerous cuts and bruises, and, oh yes, a slice made by a basilisk fang," Snape said sharply, "What were you thinking?"
"Not my fault," Rigel said automatically.
Snape snorted, "I very much doubt that."
"How is Ginny?" Rigel asked.
"Right here," Ginny's voice came from behind them, and the redhead moved into Rigel's line of vision accommodatingly, "I'm glad you're all right, Rigel. I thought I was too late."
"You did great, Ginny," Rigel said, "Perfect timing, I think."
Ginny laughed weakly, "I guess. It took me a few minutes to open the passageway. I think I wasn't putting the right inflection on the word. I already can't remember how to say it—the language slips from my mind, somehow, when I try to grasp it."
That was probably for the best, Rigel reflected, as the other Slytherins probably wouldn't be happy to hear that Rigel had given a Gryffindor the override password to the common room entrance.
"Thank you, in any case," Rigel said earnestly, "And thank the Headmaster for the loan of his phoenix, please."
"Oh, I doubt Fauxes would ever forgive me if I presumed to accept thanks on his behalf," Dumbledore's voice came from the hallway ahead of ahead of them, and Rigel supposed he was leading the way, "You may thank him yourself, however."
With a trill, the scarlet bird alighted on Snape's shoulder and peered down into her face seriously.
"Thank you, Fauxes," she said softly. The phoenix gave a short burst of song, which Rigel supposed meant he accepted her thanks, and fluttered his wings a bit, much to Snape's displeasure.
The Potions Master turned his head sharply to avoid a mouthful of feathers. "Albus, tell your bird that my shoulder is not his perch," Snape said.
"Tell him yourself," Dumbledore's reply was both mild and unconcerned in tone.
"He doesn't listen to me," Snape grumbled under his breath.
"Contrary as a cat, phoenixes are," Dumbledore agreed.
