Save them, Harry Potter...
Save them...
These were the words that came to mind when Harry woke up, said so softly, it could have been the wind, but Harry heard them all the same.
He felt weak, so very weak, he couldn't move, nor even open his eyes...then the smell hit him.
Blood, the pungent smell of iron filled his nostrils and Harry would feel fainter if he could, as his senses returned, he felt the cold all over his body, the floor was freezing and damp, and he was pretty sure he was naked.
With great effort, he managed to barely open his eyes, only to be greeted by darkness, what a terrible place to be.
And then he saw light.
"Master! Over here! Look, a man, I think he's hurt." He heard a soft female voice say, Harry closed his eyes out of reflex, flinching as the light of fire filled his vision.
"Well, I will be...is this what you wanted me to find...hey, kid, be careful, huh, look at all that blood...is it his? He looks alive." A deep, male voice said from nearby, Harry tried to turn his head, but it felt, so, so heavy.
Harry felt his eyelids getting heavier, and had to focus to keep himself awake, he felt soft, warm hands take his wrist.
"His pulse is weak, but he's alive, and I think it's his blood, look at his leg, doesn't look self-inflicted, and I don't see a weapon."
"Hmm..."
Harry felt the soft feminine hands examining him, his forehead, arms, legs, and chest, he would have blushed if he could.
"Master, how could he be down here? He's not one of us, and not a prospector either."
And all the critters were avoiding this room," Harry heard a loud sniff, "his blood, it smells of...love, love and power, an interesting combination..."
"Think his blood was scaring them off? How could this be?"
"There's much we don't..." Harry grunted as he almost fainted, he had been trying to speak, move, do anything, but it was just making him weaker. "Master, we are losing him! He needs blood." There was a sigh. "And we're all out. I will give him some of mine." Harry heard faintly the sound cloth, leather and then rubber, moving as if someone was opening a bag.
"Silly girl, want me to carry two people out of here? Take mine, you barely weight three stones wet!"
"But-"
"No buts!" Harry heard the sound of ripping cloth and something metallic clanking as it hit the ground.
Harry grunted as he felt a rather large needle perforating his arm, and after a few moments, something warm began running up it, some of his strength began to return and he breathed easier.
"It's working." Her voice sounded far away as Harry's focus was turned inside, as he felt the warmth running up his arm meeting with the warmth inside, they clashed for moment, but then, strangely, settled and merged, combined, improved, and Harry felt healthier and hot.
He barely noticed he had started trashing before being held down by slender arms that were surprisingly strong.
"That's enough, kid, still need to get out of here, we can give him more when we reach the surface, and let's avoid those Church lunatics, they would want to open him up, can you carry him?"
"Yes, Master."
A exasperated sigh, "Can you stop calling me that, girl, it makes me feel old."
"You are getting there in years Master, it surprises me you can even carry your sword somedays." Harry heard the clear amusement in the young woman's voice, those slender arms got under him and lifted him off the ground with extreme dexterity and care.
"Keep joking, kid, this 'old man' still can beat your young ass to the ground, even with that fancy sword of yours."
"You are one to talk."
"Hey, my sword guided us to him."
"Whatever you say, Master."
A grunt was her answer, Harry felt himself lulled by the sound of footsteps and the rhythm of walking, he could make out the soft light of fire behind his eyelids, as he fell into a far more restful slumber Harry heard the woman carrying him speak softly.
"Master Ludwig, do you think he'll make it?"
"Hmm, Yes, Young Maria, Blood doesn't lie, and his blood is strong"
...from themselves