Chapter Nine: Dramatic Rescue

It was cold. Ral rubbed at his eyes, shivering, trying to figure out why he was so chilly. Wriggling backward, he tried to find the warmth of Jace's back, but he encountered nothing but cold sheets, followed by the edge of the bed. Blinking and yawning, Ral dragged his eyes open in confusion. The early morning light, pale and green-tinted after traveling through the lake, was filtering into his bed, but the bed was empty. Where was Jace?

Feeling a faint chill that he told himself was just because the bed was cold, Ral pulled himself into a sitting position. The little space of his bed within the green curtains seemed so empty.

"Zarek?" someone called. One of the older Slytherins. "You getting up? You'll be late for breakfast if you sleep any longer." Ral was a little surprised that they'd noticed, but then he usually woke pretty early when Kallist got them up to make sure no one would catch Jace in here. So the others in the dorm must be used to his curtains being pulled back and him making his bed by the time they started to get up.

"I'm coming," he called back. Judging from the light and the sounds of movement in the dorm, he didn't have a lot of time. He stripped quickly and pulled on his robe, took a few minutes to splash water on his face in the bathroom, and then met up with the rest of the Slytherins as they headed toward the dining hall en masse.

As soon as they entered, he looked over at the Hufflepuff table. No Jace. Ral sought Elspeth, wondering if the two of them were late, but no—there she was, looking back up at him. Their eyes met. Is he with you? Elspeth mouthed, and Ral shook his head, the nagging chill in his stomach getting more pronounced. Oh, fuck it. He didn't need to eat with the Slytherins, and who cared if the Hufflepuffs got angry?

He was across the dining hall in a few seconds. "When's the last time you saw him?" he asked Elspeth, and she shrugged helplessly.

"He went to bed a little early last night," she said. "He took Kallist with him. But he seemed fine. I don't—should we ask the teachers?"

Ral chewed on his lip. He was about to sigh and say "yes" when Professor Granger and Professor Potter hurried into the dining hall and headed over to the Headmistress. The three of them conferred for a moment, and then Professor McGonagall got to her feet and called for silence.

"I have just heard something quite serious," she said in her most worried-sounding voice. "Mr. Beleren is in the hospital wing, after Professor Potter found him walking around the corridors after hours. I am sure he will be fine, but in the meantime, it has come to my attention that a number of you have been moving about after lights' out. This is not acceptable—not getting enough sleep can negatively impact your schoolwork, and wandering the corridors after dark can also be somewhat hazardous. From now on, the prefects and professors will be doing rounds later into the evening, and the repercussions will be serious for anyone caught out of their rooms past curfew."

A babble of voices broke out as everyone turned to their neighbor and started either speculating about who had been sneaking out or—in the case of the Sleep Club—panicking.

"Do you think we'll be in trouble?" Nissa asked, and Ral put his head down on the table, because things really couldn't get much worse.

Elspeth sighed. "I was finally sleeping well," she said in a small voice, and she sounded more vulnerable than Ral had ever heard her. He reached out and put a careful hand on her shoulder, not really sure if that would help or if it was a good idea, but she didn't shake him off. She sniffed, shoulders moving up and down. "I hope Jace is all right," she said, softly. "I—I wonder what happened."

"I should've started going to him," Ral said abruptly. "I mean, he's the one who had all the nightmares and stuff, I should've—this shouldn't have happened."

"It's not your fault," Elspeth said solidly. "We should—we should ask Professor Malfoy. I bet he would try to help."

Ral shook his head. "None of them are going to help," he said dismissively. "Besides, Professor Malfoy's sick, remember? Our last Potions class was cancelled. Anyways, Jace will be fine. He'll be back in a day or two." Of course he would. They'd figure out a way to get around the recent prohibition. Everyone would start getting sleep again. It would be fine.

"Elspeth, are you going to be okay?" Gideon and Chandra had arrived from the Gryffindor table. Ral decided to tune out the conversation; it was only going to make him worry about nothing, anyway. Jace would be back soon.

Even though he knew there was no way Jace would be able to get to the Slytherin dorm room, that night saw Ral tossing and turning, having a frustrating amount of trouble getting to sleep, just in case somehow his friend was able to show up. He didn't want to sleep through that. He wasn't sure when he finally fell asleep, alone, but he was logy and dull the following morning and kept nodding off in History of Magic, which almost made him feel bad, because Professor Granger was a pretty decent teacher.

By day two, when he still wasn't sleeping well, and Jace still hadn't come back to class, Ral was starting to get really irritable. He nearly knocked Nissa over when she accidentally got in his way on the stairs, and Elspeth had to physically restrain him from getting violent when some of the third-year Hufflepuffs came up and jeered at him during dinner. Besides, there were rumors flying around about why Jace still hadn't come back to classes. People were saying that he'd gone crazy, that he was in a coma, or that he was going to be expelled for what he'd done—none of which made any sense, but Ral knew Jace had been getting worse lately. Every time he'd gone to see Professor Potter or one of the other teachers, he'd gotten worse. So keeping him cooped up in the Hospital Wing had to be the worst thing they could have done. Which didn't surprise Ral, because none of the teachers at this stupid wizarding school had a clue how to help Jace. Or maybe they just didn't care.

By day three, he'd decided: he was going to have to break Jace out. If they could make it to a Muggle train station, they could easily make it to London—Ral had a stash of Muggle money that he kept under his bed. His parents kept sending him an allowance, and he didn't have anything he needed to spend it on, especially without access to the internet. It was a good plan. They wouldn't be able to take Elspeth, which was a pity, but Ral knew she'd do okay without them, and they could visit her during the holidays. Jace didn't have any family? No problem—Ral could convince his parents to keep him. He'd convinced them to get him a dog, even though his father was allergic; this couldn't be that much harder.

Of course, in order to rescue Jace, he needed to get into the Hospital Wing somehow, and Ral didn't entirely trust his acting ability. If he went to the prefects and said he was sick, they might believe him, but they might also—not. And none of them liked him very much. Eventually, after spending a few hours wracking his brains, he begrudgingly went in search of some of the other members of the Sleep Club. Two heads were better than one, and—for some reason that Ral refused to think too hard about—his thoughts kept spinning and racing in a way that wasn't exactly conducive to concentrating. The first person he found was Gideon, who wouldn't have been his first choice, but he was starting to get impatient, so after shifting back and forth on his feet for several minutes, he blurted out his question.

Gideon frowned. "If we had a nosebleed nougat, we could probably get you in," he said thoughtfully. "But I don't know how to make a charm for a nosebleed."

"They'll take you to the hospital wing for a bloody nose?" Ral asked sharply. "I mean, the same place they've got Jace and everything?"

"Probably," Gideon said. "The last time Chandra got a bloody nose, she got sent to the hospital wing, just for Madam Pomfrey to look her over."

"Okay, great," Ral replied. "Punch me in the nose. " Gideon stared at him as if he was crazy, which, Ral thought, was honestly just typical. "Everything does not have to be done with magic," he explained as slowly as he could, although he was fidgeting with impatience. "So just punch me in the nose. If you can break it, that might work the best."

"Ral, are you sure—"

"Fuck, yes! Jace is stuck in there, and I need to get to him! Just punch me!"

Gideon opened his mouth as if he were about to object, then let out a half-sigh, shrugged, and pulled his fist back. There was a sudden shock of pain, and then Ral was on the floor, gasping, hands over his nose. "Ow, fuck," he swore. "Fucking bloody hell."

"Are you all right?" Gideon asked worriedly. "Are you—"

Ral grinned up at him with blood dripping onto his hands. "Of course I'm not all right," he said. "I definitely need a trip to the hospital wing."

Draco jolted awake from uneasy sleep to the sound of someone rapping on his door. Groaning, he pulled the pillow over his head. There was a bone-deep ache in his head, drilling into his temples, the same ache that had assaulted him every time he'd woken up for the past week. Migraine, probably. Or maybe just overwork and lack of sleep. His nightmares had been getting more and more frequent lately, and finally he'd retired to bed, pleading illness, just in the hopes that he could get a full day or night of sleep. So far, it hadn't worked. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw roaring flames consuming the Room of Requirement, Dumbledore falling to his death, Hermione screaming under the Cruciatus Curse, Harry—well.

Keeping one hand pressed to his aching head, Draco forced himself out of bed, drew on the set of robes he'd flung over a nearby chair the night before, and shuffled over to the door to open it. He stared vacantly into the distance for a moment before realizing his visitors were shorter than he'd expected and managed to look down. Elspeth Tirel, Chandra Nalaar, and Nissa Revane stood outside, all looking remarkably nervous.

"Professor Malfoy—it's Jace—we're really worried," was all he managed to understand as all three started talking at once. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he held up his other hand.

"Slow down," he said. "One at a time, please." He pointed at Elspeth, who would probably be the most coherent. "Tirel, what is the trouble?"

Elspeth took a deep breath. "Professor, we think that Jace shouldn't be in the hospital wing anymore. We don't think he'll be able to sleep, and that will probably just make it worse. And I'm afraid Ral is going to do something stupid."

"The hospital wing?" Draco echoed. God, he'd certainly missed a few developments over the past several days. Guiltily, he fought against the selfish impulse to send them away and collapse into bed again.

"After Professor Potter found him walking around at night? I know you knew about us swapping rooms, but no one else did, and they got angry, and we're not allowed to—" Elspeth sucked in a sudden sob and looked horrified at herself. "I'm s-sorry," she stammered. "I haven't—been sleeping very well—in my own room."

A sudden hot surge of protective anger pulled Draco's spine into a ramrod straight position as Chandra awkwardly patted Elspeth on the back, and the little girl tried not to cry. He wanted to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right, but he didn't know if she'd welcome that, and he didn't know how to ask, so instead he cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Tirel. I had asked the other professors not to disturb me, so I'm afraid you'll have to fill me in. Do you think you can do that?"

Elspeth was feeling in her pockets. "I cuh—I can't fuh-find my handkerchief. Do you have—"

"Just use your sleeve," Chandra said. "C'mon, Beth, it's not a big deal."

Elspeth managed a quick, indignant smile. "I'm not going to get snot all over my robes!"

Nissa started digging in her own robes, rather futilely, but Draco cut in first. "Here," he said, hastily proffering his own handkerchief, thankful that it was still clean.

"Thank you," Elspeth sniffed, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. "All right. I'm fine, thank you, Professor. It all started because Jace found out his nightmares were better when he slept in the Slytherin dorm with Ral—"

"—but not in a bad way, just them sharing a bed—" Chandra put in quickly, and Draco had to quickly turn a surprised laugh into a cough. Now that she had calmed down, Elspeth told her story clearly and concisely, only stumbling a little when she talked about Jace not coming back in the morning. Draco's rage continued to build as she spoke, because hadn't he warned Harry about this? Trying to enforce the damn rules at the expense of their students' health was not what they were supposed to do, and was no one but him paying attention to the first years?

"All right," he said, as gently as he could manage, as Elspeth finished. "Let's go to Madam Pomfrey, and I'll see what I can do."

They were only two corridors away from the hospital wing when they heard the crash.

Darkness. Something breathing, something crouching over his face, pressing down on his chest. Jace thrashed back to consciousness with a gasp, rolling onto his side and trying to control his trembling as he drew his knees up to his chest. His hands caught in his hair, tightening and tangling, because he needed something to hold onto, needed the pain to anchor himself here, now, instead of in the nightmare.

Dragging painful eyes open, he stared at the clock by the bed and groaned. It had been fifteen minutes since he'd last looked, and it felt like hours. He wasn't getting better. He couldn't sleep—shutting his eyes just brought the nightmares on. Jace pulled the pillow over his head. If he didn't fall asleep soon, Madam Pomfrey would give him another dose of Dreamless Sleep, and he really didn't want to deal with that. The last night, it hadn't stopped the nightmares; it had just stopped him from being able to wake up from them. Which didn't make any sense, but either his nightmares were too bad or there was something wrong with the potion. Or with his head in general.

A sudden explosive rumble from the next room over jolted him upright, and Kallist shot out from under the bed, where he'd been hiding for the past few days, to hover almost protectively over Jace's head. There was another thunderous sound from the adjacent room, and Madam Pomfrey scuttled across the hospital wing, shouted at him to stay put, yanked the door open and dove inside.

A moment or two later, the door opened again, and Ral Zarek slid into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He looked around briefly before seeming to see Jace, and then he hurried over.

"Ral!" Jace exclaimed weakly. His friend's face was covered in bright red blood, and there was a bruise blooming around the bridge of his nose. "Are you all right?"

"Huh?" Ral said breathlessly, stopping beside the bed. "Oh, yeah, fine. Come on. We've got to go."

Jace stared at him. "Go?" he asked uncertainly. "Go where?"

"Away," Ral replied. There was a bright, excited light in his eyes that Jace hadn't seen there in several weeks. "I mean, home. I'm gonna take you home. We'll be safe there, okay? You'll be able to sleep and everything."

This was too complicated. Jace was just too happy to see someone other than Madam Pomfrey to really protest. "Okay."

"Great." Ral took his hand, pulling him out of bed. "Come on—who the fuck are you?" He was looking at someone behind Jace's shoulder. Kallist spat lightning, and Jace turned, suddenly fearful again, to see grey fog hanging still in the air, and in the center of it, just the hidden suggestion of a hooded figure. His eyes went wide, and he stumbled backward, tripping over the bed in his haste to get away. "Fuck it," Ral said succinctly. "We'll take the window, come on."

"What?" Jace gasped as Ral yanked him back to his feet and began to manhandle him toward the window. Ral paused at the sill, whipping out his wand. "Alohomora," he said, with a flick of his wrist.

"Do you have your wand?" Ral asked, and Jace looked stupidly down at his hand. Madam Pomfrey kept trying to get him to leave it by his bed, but most of the time he woke up with it beneath his pillow anyway, which seemed to be the case today. He nodded at Ral. "Can you do the levitation charm?" his friend asked, dragging him onto the windowsill.

"Um," said Jace, and Ral flashed him a brilliant smile. "We'll have to do this at the same time. Don't drop me! Okay, three, two, one—wingardium leviosa!"

Jace's brain, still fuzzy with sleep and fatigue, barely realized in time what Ral's plan was, but he managed to copy the wand movements and gabble out the spell just as his friend pulled them both off the ledge. There was a moment of giddiness, and then—they were still almost standing next to the window ledge, wands pointed at each other.

"This really should not work," Ral said. "I mean, it's like some kind of stupid perpetual motion machine. Anyway, let's get down." Jace felt himself wobbling in the air as Ral slowly started to turn his wand downward, and he did the same, desperately eager to get away from the cloaked figure, although he couldn't see it anymore. From the faint sound of raised voices, though, they wouldn't have been able to leave through the door anyway.

They got maybe a foot further down when Jace felt his cloak tightening around his throat and choked. "Ral," he managed to get out.

"Shit," Ral said. "I think it's caught on something, but I can't see. You'd better just take it off." Jace froze, his hands at his throat.

"I can't," he managed to get out.

"Jace. Come on. We don't have time!" Ral said urgently, and Jace squeezed his eyes shut.

"I can't," he repeated. "Ral, I can't, I'll hurt you, I'll—"

"Jesus Christ, you idiot." A hand batted his own away and undid the fastenings about his throat before he could protest any further, and Jace felt himself jerking toward the ground even as the voices started to rush in.

His feet landed on the ground, and he pitched forward onto his hands and knees. "Come on," Ral said, hand landing on his shoulder—or had he only thought it? Jace couldn't tell; his mind was too full of buzzing half-thoughts tumbling over one another, scraps of images and words and ideas from everyone else around him. Then Jace was on his feet, stumbling along, Ral's hand on his shoulder pushing him onwards.

As the voices receded behind him, Jace became a little more aware of his surroundings. "Where are we going?" he panted as they raced across a bed of dry leaves.

For—"Forbidden Forest." The thought preceded the words by seconds, giving Jace the unpleasant sensation of a ringing echo.

"Why are we going to the Forbidden Forest?" Jace demanded.

"They won't expect us to go there." Ral waved a hand. "Don't worry, I got bored and looked at some maps a few weeks ago. If we go straight west, it's less than a mile through the forest and then we should get to a town or something."

"How will we know which way is west?"

"Sun."

Doubtfully, Jace looked up at the thick, grey clouds blanketing the sky above them. "Um…"

"We'll figure it out," Ral said impatiently. "C'mon."

Kallist bobbed down from somewhere above them, slotting into his preferred place above Jace's head. Just being out of the hospital wing and moving was enough to clear some of the cobwebs from Jace's brain, and, with an effort, he could suppress Ral's loud thoughts to something more of a murmur at the edge of his awareness. He could do this. They'd figure something out.