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Pain.
Pain was not an unfamiliar companion; he could even say it had become an old friend at this point. Pain in this form, however, was different; he was much more fragile and unable to compartmentalise in the same way. He could feel himself going in and out of consciousness and had to find somewhere safe. Apparition when you are not quite human was uncomfortable and borderline impossible, but he had always been too powerful for his own good.
In his panic and desire to be safe, his magic decided his destination for him. Limping and barely able to see, he slunk into the cool shade of the forest just off the path and allowed himself to find a spot to rest. He just needed to rest for a few minutes, and things would be okay.
Things were, in fact, not okay.
It was fine. He had been awake— mostly— trying to gather the little bit of energy he had left to drag himself up to the castle and hopefully find Poppy or Minerva for some help. That was before something large moved nearby. He was in the Forbidden Forest, even if only just, and there could be any number of beasts nearby that would love to snap him up as an easy meal.
A long, cold nose found his hiding spot and nudged him, rather more gently than he was expecting. The soft touch had not stopped him from using his last bit of strength to hiss out a litany of feline insults at the beast that had thought to disturb him.
His very colourful and probably nonsensical string of insults stopped when the animal— a dog, he realised— backed up slightly to give him space, and whined piteously. He was forcefully reminded of another large black dog, even though there was very little resemblance beyond the colour of their fur.
A very croaky meow, the only other noise he could muster, had the canine moving forward again, and after sniffing him over, curled around him. It was odd for a strange animal to provide comfort and warmth, but perhaps, like him, this dog was more than what he seemed.
Much less worried about a Thestral or some other beast coming along and making a meal out of him with his new guardian in place, he allowed himself to slip into the oblivion that had been calling to him ever since he had stopped moving. For now, for a little while anyway, he was safe.
Oblivion didn't last long. It was a voice, familiar in a way he could not pinpoint in his hazy state, that woke him. That voice, a bit garbled, nonetheless meant protection. He felt himself relax back into the moss he had been resting on, barely noticing that his furry companion was gone. He didn't know how, but his instincts told him help had come at last.
His body had mostly given up on keeping him conscious now that it was convinced he would not be harmed. He had only the vaguest notion of gentle hands running over his body, checking for injuries, and then what might have been bandages being placed. His last conscious thought was how nice it was to be cared for as he was picked up and cradled gently against a warm body.
When, at long last, he woke properly, the first thing he did was try to sit up. There was a bit of a disconnect, and it took him longer than it should have to understand why. He had spent very little time in his animagus form, and rarely, if ever, slept in it. He had tried to sit up as he would in his human body, a feat he was not capable of when in his feline form.
Thinking that perhaps he had a concussion on top of whatever other damages he had managed to collect on his latest misadventure, he looked around. The small cottage was warm, and while not fancy, it felt very comfortable. It felt like safety.
He had been set down to recover on a small pile of soft blankets that carried a mildly familiar scent. It was soothing. The small part of him that was in tune with his animalistic instincts wanted to curl back up and sleep until the pain went away. His human mind knew he needed to ensure he was actually safe before doing anything else. For all that things felt fine, and slight familiarities had been acknowledged, those were not enough to mean he wasn't in more danger.
Standing, rather unsteadily, he had been about to leave his little nest, though to do what he had not figured out yet, when the shadows moved. Instincts immediately taking over, he found himself flat to the ground, back against the wall, and the most threatening growl he could muster ripping itself from his throat.
"Here I was thinking you were someone's tame housepet." An impossibly tall figure moved into the weak light to look him over, possibly assessing for any additional injuries. Had he not been looking up at the man with his own two eyes, he never would have believed it. The gentle hands that had helped him and treated his injuries—that deep voice purposely softened to help keep him calm—belonged to Severus Snape of all people.
The two truths, the two versions of the man before him, clashed rather spectacularly in his mind, leaving him blinking rather stupidly at the still form. It seemed Snape was willing to wait until he was comfortable enough to ease out of his defensive stance.
It took him a moment, more because he was still coming to terms with this version of reality than because he was still concerned with his safety. Unsure if Snape even knew he was human, much less who he was, he moved with caution, but not fear.
"There now. You are mostly healed, but I need to look you over before you can continue about your day," Snape said, turning and grabbing a few things off the table there.
He really wasn't sure what to do here. Changing back, possibly startling a man with as much power as Severus Snape possessed, was not a good idea, but he didn't want to mislead the man either. Snape had probably dealt with enough secrets to last him several lifetimes.
Deciding there was very little choice, he let out a rather rusty meow as he stepped forward, as much of a warning as he could give, and tried to shift back. A blinding flash of pain flared through him with the force of a lightning bolt.
He must have cried out, though he had no memory of doing so, because once he was able to take in his surroundings again, he was flat on the ground with Snape kneeling beside him. The dog had appeared from somewhere and sat beside him, a soft whine reaching him once he was able to look at the canine.
Unwilling to try to shift again if that was going to be the result, he let out a small, panicked sound and looked at the pair before him. Something, perhaps the very un-cat-like plea for help, had Snape looking at him with a new intensity.
"I think your new friend is more than meets the eye, Burdock." The dog— Burdock, he presumed— shot a look that couldn't have said "Obviously" any more clearly at Snape's words. If he had been human, he would have been choking on a laugh.
"You should have told me so. You know treatments can vary. What is he? Part ridiculous beast like you? Something new?" Snape asked the dog, though clearly not expecting an answer, so he figured it must have been habitual. The man had been looking through a small bag he had pulled from his pocket when he froze and looked over the feline again. "An animagus perhaps?"
He only had a moment to think, oh no, before the spell hit him and surrounded him with a pale yellow light as the same pain ripped through him again. If anything, the pain was even worse this time. He wondered, as he lay on his side panting through the shuttering aftershocks, if it was worse because it was an attempted force shift instead of a more natural one.
Snape did not apologise, though from the look on his face and the snarl coming from Burdock, he had gotten a talking to of sorts and did indeed feel bad for it. It was a very unfamiliar look on the man he had once considered to be only barely human. He had learned he was wrong, of course, but knowing it and seeing it were two very different things.
"Locked in your feline form…" Snape muttered to himself, thoughts already a million miles away, hopefully working out a way to fix this.
As the man walked away, Burdock moved closer and lay down in front of him. There was no sign of the snarling beast who had been putting Snape in his place only a few moments before. Instead, the dog looked like he might flee if the cat before him hissed again. It was highly amusing.
Sitting up, ignoring the pain that flared through him at the movement, he moved to lean against Burdock, glad someone was on his side. He watched Snape as he moved across the room, preparing to brew something, hopefully something that would fix his problem. Having the best potions master in the world working on a way to cure him, he knew he would be fine.
The potion, or whatever Snape was making, ended up taking far longer than he thought it would have. It was either a very complicated recipe or the man was creating something from scratch. Knowing what he did, and the brilliant mind Snape had kept hidden for so long, it wouldn't have surprised him at all.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but between the previous day's injuries and the rapid healing, he was exhausted. Burdock hadn't seemed to mind in the slightest and curled up with him, taking a nap as well. Both creatures were roused when the methodical brewing process ceased, and Snape decanted his potion into a vial.
"Alright now. You need to drink this, all of it, as quickly as you can. If you don't think you will be able, I can run a tube down your throat, but I must warn you, it is unpleasant." Snape said, walking over with a steaming yellow potion and a small dish that he set down.
The potion master had raised an eyebrow at him when he moved to sit in front of the man, but Snape poured a measure of the liquid into the dish. He was sure he would be able to drink it just fine, after all, he had years of practice.
Drinking a potion as a feline was much more difficult than he had thought, but wanting to be human again, he did his best. The effect was almost immediate; an odd, slow burn worked its way from his stomach to each of his extremities, until he felt like he was being roasted over a fire.
He didn't know how long he was under the effects, though, considering both Snape and Burdock were still standing over him as they had been when he had swallowed the revolting potion, it couldn't have been all that long.
Lying flat on his back, his very human back, he squinted up at the figures and couldn't help the relieved grin that spread over his face. He was back to himself. The situation that had left him locked in his other form, and the injuries didn't seem very important in that moment.
"Saving me again, as always, Professor?" He asked, closing his eyes but not hiding his amusement and relief.
Severus Snape blinked, looked down at the dog, who only wagged his tail as though he had known the whole time, before he let out a deep sigh. "Potter, what trouble have you gotten yourself into now?"