Chaos. Pure, mind-numbing chaos. The world's edges melted and flowed around them, and they couldn't keep hold of anything, couldn't center, couldn't anything. Everyone fronted and no one fronted, and when the world finally solidified, in the form of a grassy verge in front of what looked like a massive castle, Harry's stomach emptied itself noisily on his shoes. He didn't even notice until Snape pulled him up and scourgified him and wiped the tear-tracks off his face with a slightly yellowed handkerchief.

"Potter? Potter! Are you all right?" Snape's voice finally pierced the dissociative haze that had settled over the system. Tom managed to force himself out and give the firmest nod he could manage, although the effort made him sway on his feet. He felt utterly sick, their stomach refusing to properly settle.

"I suppose it's a good thing we're going to the infirmary already," Snape muttered to himself. "Can you walk, Potter?" he addressed Tom again. Tom bit his lip, uncomfortably aware of the sour taste of sickness in his mouth. His pride wanted him to say yes, but honesty forced out a reluctant no.

Tom expected Snape to perhaps levitate him or even place him on a magical stretcher, as ignominous as it would have been. It was to his eternal shock that the man looked around once and then scooped him up in his arms, settling him firmly against one shoulder and striding toward Hogwarts in the distance.

No one had ever really carried them before. Not like this. Not like that person cared about their well-being, wanted to keep them safe. Oh, Aunt Petunia had carried them a few times when they were younger, but it was only because Harry was learning to walk still, and it had been easier for everyone for her to simply hoist him up and set him down where she pleased. She had more emotion in toting a sack of groceries.

But Snape? While his grip was slightly awkward, probably due to not doing this often, it was secure. It made them feel...safe.

Snape carried them through the wide, ornate double doors and up several flights of stairs, encountering nobody on the way. Tom was grateful. His nerves felt raw from the harrowing Apparition and the unsettling feeling of safety. Meeting someone else would have been too much. He didn't even want to meet the mediwitch who was currently bustling her way toward them, wiping her hands off on a blindingly white towel, but they didn't have a choice in this one, did they? No, they did not.

Snape set them down on a hospital bed while the mediwitch introduced herself and for a moment, Tom wished that they could return to his arms. Then he chided himself for being a silly little boy. That wasn't needed. It wasn't the point. He'd only carried 'Harry' to save time, anyway. Nothing to get too excited about.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand about them, performing a multitude of diagnostic spells, and as the result of each spell printed itself in mid air around her, her frown grew deeper and deeper. Tom could make heads nor tails of it (he'd never been all that good at Healing), but he could tell the woman was unhappy. With them or their erstwhile guardians, he couldn't quite figure out. Snape was scowling more fiercely than he'd ever seen the man and it was a damn good thing Blue and Raven were comforting Freak over the Apparition incident somewhere deep inside, or they'd be in the jittery throes of another panic attack.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey drew a curtain around the bed where Tom perched, and withdrew with Snape. Tom could hear them conferring in low tones, but couldn't make out any of the words.

You know, it's not nice to talk about someone right in front of them, Jay scowled, his hands clenched. The anger sparking in his eyes worried Tom. Jay tended to act before he thought and the angrier he was, the more likely he was to do something rash.

No, but sometimes it is necessary, Tom calmly interjected, despite the flare of anger licking down his own body. He hated being discussed behind his back. In any situation, never mind their own particularly delicate one. But there was nothing they could do.

That's what you think, Jay smirked and grabbed control of hosting before Tom could so much as blink.

Jay pushed the curtain aside with one hand as he kicked his heels against the bed. Snape turned around and before the lecture could so much as begin, Jay threw a cheeky grin on his face and asked, "So am I that fucked up you can't even talk about it in front of me, or are you just doing that grown-up shit again? Because I gotta tell ya, I don't play well with that."

And Tom sagged against the wall inside in frustrated despair as Madam Pomfrey's eyes grew wide in surprise and Snape looked murderous.

Jay really needed to learn to think before he spoke.