A/N: It's slow going for my other HP Xover, mainly because I got interested/distracted by the Worm fandom, for both I update them when I get a surge of inspiration.

From the incomplete coffee shop below, the guest room was far nicer than she had thought it would have been, Amy had expected something a bit shabbier. Sky blue walls with a white trim, a small dresser and the softest bed she had ever sat on. Almost like what she would expect sitting on air would feel like.

The small ceramic container in her hand was very ornate. Opening the lid Amy was reminded of the fresh mulch in a park, the heady smell was of putting. Pushing her fingers into the almost jelly like paste she shivered at the coolness.

Thick and viscous the light green ointment sitting on the tip of her fingers barely even wobbled as she brought her fingers away from the small ceramic container. Grimacing Amy held her breath, hesitating her balm covered fingers hovered an inch away from her face, steeling herself she rubbed the concoction into the painful bruises on her face.

Ignoring the spikes of pain as her fingers traced over the tender flesh, goosebumps sprung up as the cool mixture spread over her skin.

As the foul smelling ointment tingled against her skin Amy let out a soft sigh of contentment, bit by bit the pain and bone deep ache of her face faded even though the unpleasant smell remained. She hadn't realised how much pain she had been subconsciously ignoring. The painful twinges from smiling or throbs when she moved her head too fast where gone.

Amy let out a small giggle tinged with a tiny amount of hysteria.

Flopping onto her back on the small bed, she closed her eyes relishing the lack of pain. Wincing as her bruised stomach and sore arm made their protestations to her enthusiastic movements known. Ignoring the painful twinges of her protesting body, she stood and with minimal movement divested herself of her pants and shirt.

Standing in her panties and bra, her thumb holding the jeans rubbed against a particularly coarse segment of fabric, she held her jeans to the light, she frowned at their state of cleanliness, and there was no mud or grime from where she had huddled in a ball on the ground.

However, there were patches on the jeans that looked like someone had rubbed it with pumice. The shirt had the same abrasions. The faint ache of her arms pushed her investigation of the oddities off until later.

Stomach and arms tingling she scooped out another handful to rub to massage into her thighs, playing briefly with the sizeable glob on her fingers Amy noticed something odd. The amount she had pulled out of the container to massage into her body was more than should have been held in the vessel.

As her eyelids closed, the black of her closed eyes began to shift, her mutation ocularly based, began compensating for the lack of visual light feeding her optic nerve. Slowly her vision expanded beyond the range of normal sight, the small guest room around her appeared to her mind in a slightly faded three hundred and sixty degree view.

Chewing a nail, Amy wracked her mind in indecision at the temptation to peek at Harry or not. She ignored the heat of her face at the thought of accidentally catch a glimpse of her saviour on the shower.

Mentally releasing her restraints her vision expanded as the three dimensional representation began to build itself in her mind, encompassing the room and outside her room's walls, as her vision crossed the walls threshold she grasped her head in agony, muffling a scream she tried and failed to interpret what she was seeing outside her room.

It didn't make sense at all, the walls didn't line up with the rooms and hallways, there were hundreds of meters of space where only a centimetre should have fit, everything between the rooms reminded her of the cheap sci-fi effects used to represent hyper drive, all stretched and wrong and blurring into a multicoloured streaks of light.

Gasping heavily, Amy opened her eyes as normal sight reasserted itself.

Her heart pounded in her ears, licking her lips she tasted a metallic tang. Worried she touched her mouth with a finger, her eyes widened in shock as she looked at her finger, a heavy smudge of blood sat on her finger.

Still breathing heavily she tilted her head up fingers holding her nose closed, waiting for the bleeding to stop.

Sweating heavily, her plain white bra and panties soaked from her perspiration. Amy stood from the small bed on unsteady legs, wincing at the still stiff legs she balanced herself, holding onto the small nearby cabinet, she walked slowly to the bedroom door.

Running her tongue over her dry lips, she eyed the door. It hadn't seemed so wrong before when she had entered with Harry.

Cautiously her outstretched hand grasped the handle. A bout of indecision struck, what if it happened again. Bracing for a repeat of the nausea inducing displacement she opened the door, ready to slam it shut at a moments notice.

To see only a normal hallway.

Staring into the empty hallway she blinked in confusion, it was normal nothing out of place or surreal the white paint and small picture frame still hung in their place. Sticking a hand out into the hallway she couldn't feel anything different?

Nervously she pushed the door closed, clenching clammy hands she turned back to her bed, Harry saved her and there would no reason for him to put her in danger, there would be a simple explanation she was sure.

Holding onto that thought she closed her eyes, keeping her altered sight around her and her bed and no further. Curled around her pillow she ignored the possibilities her tired mind came up with, as she waited for sleep to claim her.

-Scene Break-

Handing Amy the small container of ointment Harry left her to explore the guest room making sure to close the door behind him as he left the room.

Walking away from the door, Harry opened his minds connection to the surrounding wards. As the floodgates opened, information encompassing everything within the coffee shop, the attached living space and a small radius around the shop came to him.

Detailed information on the various defensive enchantments began to flow. Thousands of insects and rodents deterred from the property. At least three hooligans had to be reminded of a pressing engagement elsewhere, two had been looking for something to tag and the third a place to squat and a few odd readings of something interacting with the wards. Reminiscent of a diagnosis spell the readings suggested whatever it was subtle and weak, judging by the ease it was repelled by the enchantments.

Navigating the stream of information Harry looked at what the wards could tell him about Amy, missing a step as the wards sent an update on Amy he ignored the brief image of a near naked Amy rubbing the balm into her skin. As far as the spells could tell she was neither magical like Harry, nor a plain muggle.

A fact, which reminded Harry of House Elfs and Goblin's. Neither where hindered by wizard defences, an overlooked vulnerability in the popular anti-apparating jinxes, an unfortunate artefact of complacency and focusing solely on wizard aggression to the exclusion of others.

With a flourish a slightly red faced Harry set the enchantments to recognise and catalogue the third signature that Amy represented.

Twisting on his heel Harry disapparated with an almost inaudible crack from the hallway, his destination his workshop in the shop's basement. Appearing with a crack Harry gave his workshop a once over, nothing was out of place, three worktables surrounded a large comfortable black swivel chair.

Various projects littered the tables, tools and documents relating to wand crafting sprawled over the entirety of the largest table, saws, drills and dozens of similar wood crafting machines sat surrounded by hollowed woods of various species, lacquered, polished, stained and untreated alongside various treated cores of the available magical substances, Harry. His blood, hair, skin and even crushed bones sat in various beakers.

Stones of quartz, granite, sandstone and other various rocks covered the smaller table, many of them scrawled and inscribed on with intricate Babylonian and Norse writings. Various enchantments like light, warmth and indestructability covered the smaller rocks and gems. With the more polished stones host to increasingly complicated and powerful runic clusters.

Leaning into his comfortable chair, Harry drew his wand.

Waving his wand, he transfigured the small blue ballpoint pen into a silver scalpel. Immortality aside Harry did not intend to allow a possible wand misfire to accidentally vanish a rib or two, repeating that painful week in Mexico as his body regrew those ribs was not part of any plan. Focusing on the sharp bursts of pain of the cool slugs to locate the bullets he began to cut.

Sharp, the scalpel sliced through his skin with ease, leaving only a thin red line to mark the scalpels path. Positioning fingers on either side of the cut, he pulled the cut open.

"Fuck," Harry cursed, throwing the bloodied scalpel, sharper than a normal blade it sank into the wooden top with a heavy thud as it collided blade first onto the third table. Harry stared heatedly at the thin red line below his navel. Frustratingly his regeneration had closed the hole faster than he could cut it.

Idly Harry rubbed a thumb over his unblemished skin, as he contemplated his options. All would be painful.

Gritting his teeth, Harry silently wished that numbing spells would work on him for longer than a second. Angling his wrist to point at his stomach and the embedded bullets, Harry steeled himself for the pain.

"Accio Bullet," His stomach bulged as the summoned bullet forced itself to the surface, reversing its entrance the accelerating bullet tore through the surrounding flesh.

With a muted roar of pain a small black slug exploded out of his stomach, followed by a deluge of blood and flesh that accompanied the moving metal. Already the torn stomach was repairing itself, flesh and blood returning to working order, the reverse bullet hole reknitting itself. The summoned slug bounced across the floor.

"One down, Four to go," Harry muttered. Two summoned bullets later, Harry drew a pained breath as he wiped a hand over the blood and viscera coating his stomach, the mess from the explosive removal remained behind, even as the wounds resealed without a trace.

Idly Harry rubbed his stained hand over his chest, "Accio Bullet!"

The summoned bullet came out with an explosion of flesh larger than the previous three bullets combined. Breathing heavy, Harry looked at the bullet sitting in his hand, along with the blood and flesh accompanying the returning bullets, the metal slug was partially encased with bone.

Embedded in his chest, his healing had decided to just grow around the trapped metal slug.

"Accio Bullet," A smaller amount of blood followed this bullet, and to Harry's surprise despite having been in his sternum no bone followed the bullet out.

Slumping into his seat, Harry let out a tired sigh as the last of the wounds healed. A glance at the clock hanging over the door confirmed the time, he still had plenty of time to make a small gift for Amy, a little glamour necklace would hopefully help prevent another incident like tonight from occurring.

Grabbing a small thin leather strap and several coin-sized stones, Harry began to inscribe the leather and the crystals in a flowing script. When he finished the glamour, a variation of the Unspeakables enchanted cowl instead of impenetrable darkness protecting the wizards identity necklace would to the touch make her scales would feel like flesh and her amber eyes appear as ordinary blue eyes.