"Oh," was all Lorcan could bring himself to say.

A steady drip of water spilled over the edge of a table, flooding a pile of red-tinged rags. The soft drip, drip, drip was sending the entire world crashing down, one piece at a time, and Lorcan thought he might explode.

"Missed you, too," said Hugo, reaching up with a trembling hand to rub his bloodshot eyes.

Dazed, Lorcan stepped past his friends, barely conscious of his surroundings. His heart fluttered in his chest and he wasn't sure it could manage even a full beat. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered until he fit into the narrow space at the side of the hospital bed, until he held Hugo's bruised face between his hands, fingers brushing over his freckled skin as though making sure he wasn't dreaming.

"You're an idiot," he said softly. Hugo managed a weak smile, intertwining his fingers with Lorcan's, almost drifting away. Lorcan kept going. "I told you not to go there - Hugo, I thought you were going to - "

He stopped abruptly. A heavy silence drifted over the room until even his thoughts began to dissipate. He closed his eyes, but images burned the back of his eyes like flashes of the sun - blood-soaked bandages that he tried desperately not to look at, the fabric stained red, and cuts that were already beginning to scar. Through the quiet, he heard the haunting chorus of cries that sang through the empty corridors as they had waited outside the room, sickly and unsympathetic.

"I'm right here," said Hugo, and Lorcan had to remind himself that this wasn't a ghost. He couldn't feel his heart beating as Hugo leaned up to kiss him, couldn't hear the fear that was digging its claws into him. In those short moments, Lorcan knew only a few things for certain - that Hugo was alive, really, it wasn't a dream. And as he kissed Hugo back as though the world was about to end, he was sure that his feelings were digging further and further into his heart. Hugo was the first to pull away, leaning his head against Lorcan's. "I'm here. Promise."

This was it, thought Lorcan, this was what it was like to die. If death could be so sweet, he hardly minded.

"You fucking better be here," said Lily, reminding Lorcan quite abruptly that they weren't alone. He shifted away, just slightly, enough that he could still hold Hugo's hand between his own, feeling the gentle pulse of his wrist and ignoring the way Louis rolled his eyes at them (as if there wasn't a smile on his face, despite it all).

Lily flung herself onto the bed on Hugo's other side, throwing an arm around him in a violent hug. He winced, reaching a hand around Lily to reciprocate the hug the best he could.

"Lily, be careful," Isla warned her, worry cutting through her voice no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

"Oh, right." Lily leaned back, a relieved smile settling into her features. She watched Hugo with wonder, the way she watched the dragons soar above her when she first visited Romania - like Hugo was made of pure magic, from head to toe, every last cell aching with it. "Sorry, er, did that hurt?"

"Little late to ask," muttered Hugo. He straightened up a bit, leaning against the bed's headboard. Pulling the blankets up with him, he continued, "I'll live. Well, probably."

"Not funny!" Lily huffed, crossing her arms. "If you weren't injured, I would punch you. Hard."

Louis joined them, sitting at the end of the bed and pulling the stiff hospital blanket around his shoulders like a shock blanket. With a tired smile, he shoved Lily gently and said, "Do it anyway, coward."

"Don't tempt her," said Lorcan.

"Yeah, Lou, don't tempt me," Lily repeated in a sing-song voice, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. In the silence that followed, she relaxed further into the bed, the smile fading from her expression. Hesitantly, she said, "Hugo, what -" she cut off, but the question was obvious.

Isla shifted nervously from where she stood at the end of the bed, tugging at the strings of the hoodie she was wearing - which, Lorcan noted, was almost definitely Rose's. "Maybe we should save the questions for another day."

"I barely remember, anyway," said Hugo, hesitant. "It feels like I just woke up from a long dream."

"What's the last thing you remember, then?"

"I remember. . ." he trailed off. He closed his eyes, as if whatever he was looking for would show itself in the darkness. The room fell mute as everyone listened, and Lorcan was beginning to dread the response. "I was at the end of a hallway. It looked like Grimmauld Place, but it wasn't, it was at Hogwarts. There were eyes watching me from the top of the stairs - it was a bird stuck in a cage. It was biting at the bars, muttering to itself. And then - it was like someone turned on a light, and the room just lit up so bright. The cage exploded into pieces and the bird was gone, and then everything just - it all hurt, so fucking much - "

No one knew what to say to that. Hugo squeezed his eyes closed, and tears slipped out from below his eyelashes, over scratches and bruises and little patches of dried blood. Unthinking, Lorcan wiped the tears off his face as Hugo stayed still, a barely noticeable tremble shaking him. He leaned into Lorcan's touch, not saying anything.

Isla cleared her throat a bit louder than necessary. "You should get some sleep, Hugo. It's late and you need rest in order to heal."

"I've had plenty of rest," he said jokingly, but his wavering voice and bleary eyes betrayed his attempt at humor. "I've been unconscious for more than a few hours, I mean, that's more than I got on the average school day."

Lorcan suppressed an eyeroll. Exhaustion was gnawing on his bones, dragging him closer and closer to sleep, and he knew the others weren't far behind.

"Go to sleep, dumbass. Being knocked out because of intense pain doesn't count as sleeping," said Louis, barely getting the words out before a yawn took over. "We should all go to sleep."

"Not that we'll be getting much," muttered Lily.

"God, I feel so old ordering you guys around, but we should all get some rest - and I mean all of you." Isla directed a glare at Lily as she spoke, who just smiled in response. "I mean it. We all know we're coming back in the morning, anyway."

With a hefty sigh, Lily stood. She patted Hugo's shoulder rather harshly, and he gave a small laugh but a poorly concealed wince betrayed him.

The others chatted as they gathered up the few belongings they'd haphazardly strewn about the room since their arrival, but Lorcan could hardly bring himself to breathe. He stayed where he was, heart aching as he watched Hugo smile at his friends, as he watched the young scars on his face contort with every change in expression. As much as it pulled his heart to shreds, he couldn't look away.

Over the last few hours, he'd imagined so many nightmares that could play out, each worse than the last. Not a single one of them ended happily. Hugo leaned against him and, pressed so closely together, Lorcan swore they'd never been apart. Could never, either, and he didn't understand how he'd so much as imagined otherwise. No curse, no rebellion, no war could lay a hand on either of them, not now. Not in this moment.

Fuck, he was so gone.

Right as the realization hit him, Hugo turned away from his conversation and looked at Lorcan. They were close enough that he could feel Hugo's breath on his lips, the way he reminded him of honey and sunlight and everything so goddamn sweet, and how could the world ever end, how could it when there were moments like this?

"Stay with me?"

Lorcan found himself nodding, barely even in control of his actions as he whispered, "Always."

...

dailyprophet

dailyprophet FRIEND OR FOE?

Minister for Magic Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found for the duration of the International Magizoology Review, a gathering between global experts on the regulation of magical creatures, a controversial subject that is gaining more traction amidst an increasing number of dementor attacks (SEE PAGE 7).

At the same time the meeting was set to begin, a story of an attack between the children of the Order and the children of ex-Slytherins, all students at Hogwarts, began to unfold. This prompted questions and growing suspicions regarding the true intentions of these former war heroes - were Granger's unknown whereabouts tied to the attack? Is there a sinister plot brewing beneath the surface? Here at the Daily Prophet, we're dedicated to giving you the truth, and will follow with updates as they come.

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teddylupin is this seriously what I have to wake up to lmao

scorpm I'm going back to sleep^

nottcas is the daily prophet starting to recognize the truth? woah

lucyrw Sinister intentions is putting it mildly

rosee oh my GOD YOU

rosee jfc

rosee Have you considered that maybe she wasn't doing the attacking, but that she was dealing with the fallout of the conflict and the fact thag somebody was severely injured? I'm so done

abbyparks aww, is somebody bitter? rosee

alpotter did i seriously just read this with my own two eyes

freddieweasley after careful consideration, i've decided to pretend this does not exist.

...

"What the hell," was the first thing Lily hissed upon leaving the hospital room.  Her heavy footfalls slammed through the near-silence as she stomped down the corridor like an angry child, face contorted into a scowl.  "What do they think they're playing at?  So they attack him with some cruel spell they've made up -"

"Or maybe not a spell at all," said Louis, cutting her off midsentence.  "We've got no clue what they've done to him.  It's too soon to start guessing."

"Fine."  Lily shrugged, pushing Isla's reassuring hand off her shoulder.  She spun around to face the others, stopping dead in her tracks.  The warmth trickling down from the vents was a fire dancing on her skin, setting her soul aflame.  There was an explosion inside her waiting to happen, and she could feel her fuse itching to light.  "Spell or whatever it was they tried.  They nearly killed him and now he's having extreme memory loss, tied in with whatever demented dream he had - they're trying to mess with his head.  It isn't right."

"Yeah, you don't fucking say," muttered Isla.  She tugged a hand through her unkempt hair, knotted up after hours of fidgeting and stressing.  "It's nothing to worry about.  The aurors are already looking into whatever they did to him, and chances are it was just a bad dream.  We've all had weird dreams before, right?"

"But what if it isn't?" Louis's voice wavered slightly.  His words were painted with a shade of fear that was as stern and unforgiving as the cold night that trapped them in the hospital.  Sensing the nerves that had crawled from his head to his word, he glanced briefly out the window as though expected something to be waiting there - nothing.  "Think about it, Isla.  If it's just a dream, it's awfully coincidental that he remembered this so clearly out of everything.  You and I both know very well what the bird means."

"It means he had an anxiety dream, and the potions and medicines being shoved down his throat threw his head for a loop.  If it was supposed to mean something, there's no way they would have given him the chance to know."

Lily huffed, unspeaking.  Her friends spared her a glance, but looked no further.  She crossed her arms as they continued their squabble, pulling them taught across her chest like the weight kept her in place.  

Her mind wandered back to the hospital room.  She'd never seen someone look so frail and small, though she would never say it aloud.  Hugo was significantly taller and stronger than Lily, but looking at him in the hospital bed, Lily couldn't name a sight more fragile.  He had been statue-like, still and unmoving, skin drained of all color and eyes that stared into the distance like they were looking straight through her.  He would crumble at the slightest touch.

"- not saying we should fear the worst just because of this.  All I'm saying is that we should keep an eye on it."  Louis's voice drifted back into Lily's focus, blurry and distant as though she was watching through a fogged window.  

Isla sighed, leaning her head back against the wall.  "I know, and I wouldn't suggest otherwise.  But if it isn't just a nightmare - what. . ." she trailed off, but the others knew precisely what she was saying.

"Don't make me say it," said Louis, distraught.  "We all know what it means.  Don't make me say it."  It was more than a request.  It was a plea, desperate and burning like a flame running down a fuse.

Images appeared before Lily in a frenzy; she saw a burst of sparks slashing through the darkness like a dagger, heard the low rumbling call of a distantly familiar bird, saw wings twitching, flickering in and out of focus on a gold medallion.  She heaved in a breath, tracing stitches up her thoughts as though it would keep the bad ones out, but she knew as well as the others did.

"An augury," she voiced aloud, and she swore the whole world collapsed.  

...

dailyprophet

dailyprophet AZKABAN CAUSES A STIR

Rumors have hit the streets that something peculiar is going on in what is supposedly the most reliable magical prison in the world.  According to eyewitnesses, a swarm of dementors have been crowding around the tower, larger than ever seen before!  Estimates suggest hundreds, potentially thousands of them have flocked to this place, which is over a quarter of their assumed population.  Amidst alleged dementor attacks, this behavior raises alarms from many onlookers.

What are these dementors doing here?  Does this mean something greater than what we know?  And, most importantly, why is the Ministry standing by?

Here at the Daily Prophet, we are committed to finding the facts.  Updates as they come!

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...

The cold air pressed against his skin like a steel blade at the neck of an innocent, digging into his flesh just enough to sting.  He heard their voices before he saw them, cackling and crowing unforgiving words into the pale sunrise.  Hours pacing the halls of the castle had done little to help - the threat was still fresh in his mind, even though he'd been weighing it since the very start.  If he thought too closely, let the ominous thumping of his heart slip past the blockade he'd built by hand to keep the nightmares away, the dreams would stand before him, taunting and cowardly.  They haunted him night and day, carving their names into his subconscious as the moon hung still in the sky, just to contort themselves into unnatural shapes in his waking hours, crawling into the little spaces his heart once considered itself free.  

If he thought too closely, there it was:  the promise Parkinson and Nott had crafted up, easy as a sleeping draught.  

If you get us what we want, we'll leave your friends alone.

And if I don't?

The list of missing people is getting longer every day, you know.

The giggles and murmurs swelled as he walked down the stone path, feeling the wet grass bite at the exposed skin on his ankles.  As he passed over the rolling hills, the noise dulled briefly as the gathering hesitantly realized what was happening.  An unfamiliar student cleared her throat softly, shifting nervously from where she leaned against a stone pillar.  Another looked away like a single glance would turn him to stone.

"Back so soon, Scamander?"  Parkinson hopped off the ledge, folding her arms in front of her chest like it would shield her from the heavy gray veil that resting softly but loudly over them.  

"I need to talk to you."

"Aw, don't want to share your thoughts with the class?" Abby cooed.  She rolled her eyes and shuffled forward a few steps, plucking her cigarette from where it rested between her red lips.  Lysander stepped back, but it didn't dissuade her in the slightest.  Softer, quiet enough that the others couldn't distinguish the words, she said, "Out with it, then."

He hesitated.  Just briefly, but the split second of silence didn't slip past Parkinson, but he paid her no mind.  "If I give you what you'll want, you won't hurt them."  It wasn't a question anymore.

"Not unless I have to."

"And what you did to Hugo?  What was that, then?"

"A test run, I suppose."  Abby said, stepping closer.  Every word was venomous, and her eyes drifted over Lysander's face like she was looking for something that she couldn't quite find.  "Seeing whether you would cut our deal short when we ran into a few troubles."

"So you won't do it again?"

Parkinson responded a second too late.  "Of course."

The pause didn't pass Lysander.  He shut his eyes, pleading for the bitter morning air to cool his panicked thoughts.  He felt Parkinson reach up, running her finger along the side of his face.  Paralyzed, the thick air had closed in around him, encasing him in a solid layer of terror.  Parkinson's nails pressed into his skin like a knife, and he knew it drew blood.

But when he opened his eyes and Parkinson withdrew her fingers, they were spotless.  A dull sting stretched across his face, burning like a candle's flame dancing across his skin, but when he reached up to touch it his fingers met smooth skin, unmarred by the wounds of war.  

Inside, his blood ceased to flow.

"What're we doing, Scamander?" said Parkinson.  Her lips quirked up into a smile, fangs bared.  "Do we have ourselves a deal?"

A pause.

"They'll notice it's missing."

"And?  They won't suspect you.  Why would poor, innocent Lysander Scamander steal from his own family?  That would just be wrong, and you would never do that, would you?"

"They won't believe that anymore.  Not since you made me publicly turn on them."

"Then go running back."  Abby scoffed, leaning back.  Lysander let out a breath, like he could finally feel his heart beating again.  "After you get us what we asked for, you can go back to your friends.  They'll think you got caught up in a mess too big for you to handle, and you couldn't tell them the truth even if you wanted to."  

She reached for Lysander's arm, abruptly pushing up the wrinkled sleeve of his shirt.  Her fingers traced lines on his skin, freezing and bright like a lighthouse flashing over a sunken ship - he knew solace was just out of reach.  There was no turning back.

The lines of fire spun around his wrist right where Parkinson traced, and the vow he'd spoken just hours before echoed before him.  Parkinson was doing this on purpose, he had no doubt about it.  But for once, what she was trying to tell him was true.

There's already no going back.

I'm too late.  

And, with one last glance towards the castle, he decided.  "Deal."

a/n

we are like

really really close to the end

like only a chapter or two left

I'm dying u guys omg

anyway have an excellent day

-v