He was floating somewhere in a misty void, and there were voices whispering.

—wake up? Elspeth—

—freak—

—taxed himself to his limits—

—won't die, Merlin, you'll see, I'll awaken however long it takes—

—never seen anyone do anything like it—

There were too many of them. He wanted to block his ears, but he couldn't feel his hands or his ears, so that was probably not going to work. How could he even find his own thoughts inside all of this mess? Even the little impulse that felt like him—whatever that even meant—felt as if it was about to break up into separate little fragments.

Please be quiet, he tried to say, but he didn't have any way to say it either. He wasn't really sure if there was anything he could do except float in the void and try to stop it from pulling him apart, but he was exhausted. He had a muted, fragmented feeling that he wasn't even sure if his thoughts could be trusted, and if he wasn't anything but those thoughts anymore, maybe it would just be better for everyone if he gave up and let the voices be everything. It would certainly be a lot more restful.

Jace. Your name is Jace Beleren.

He didn't recognize that voice, although he felt as if he ought to.

Sleep, child. I'll keep the others out.

The buzzing voices went suddenly, blissfully silent, and Jace felt as if a cold mist was wrapping around him. Sleep sounded like a wonderful option, and he no longer felt as if it meant surrender to total nothingness.

Thank you, he whispered to the voice that he didn't recognize, and he slipped back downward into unconsciousness.

When he woke up again, Jace's mind felt bruised but significantly more normal. He could feel his limbs and the bed beneath him, which he counted as a success. He wasn't entirely sure he was capable of movement still, because there seemed to be a foggy disconnect between his awareness and his body, but at least he could feel it now. And at least his consciousness seemed to be in one piece.

He had a feeling something bad had happened, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was still a chilly touch in the back of his mind, as if someone had—

Get out! Get OUT! Someone was blocking off his access to part of his head, and Jace didn't know why, but he couldn't stand the feeling. He sat up, his stomach heaving, and he was vomiting over the side of the bed before he'd even really realized it.

The chilly touch withdrew almost immediately, and there were hands on his back, holding him steady.

"Steady now," said Professor Granger's calm voice.

The memories that had been blocked off surged to the forefront of Jace's mind, and he gagged again, bringing up more stinging bile. Ral screaming. Not being able to think. Emmara—no—Liliana—no—France was mostly a blur, but Jace thought the witch had either figured out pretty quickly what he could do, or she'd gotten him to her cottage specifically because she already knew about it. He had a hazy image of a newspaper article about himself, something about "breaking the bounds of the human mind" which had been a source of rather embarrassed pride for both him and Ranna when it came out, but he wasn't certain if the memory was connected to Liliana or not.

She'd definitely dosed him early on, because in almost all of his memories of her—in all the memories that must have been Liliana instead of Emmara—there was that same sort of incomprehensible hero worship. It wasn't that he would have done anything for her, not exactly—he hadn't been that mind-controlled, Jace thought miserably. No, she'd just—made him think she was beautiful. Gorgeous. Perfect. And then she'd let him do the rest.

Because he'd been afraid to lose her. And she'd made him think that he wasn't really worthy of her, but she was so kind, and if he just tried hard enough, she wouldn't leave him. So he'd used his legilimency to trick the Sorting Hat, because she'd clung to him and said she was frightened of something intruding on her thoughts, and he remembered his own Sorting—and then he'd cut class to snog her, and he'd—and Ral had—

Oh, Merlin. Ral.

"Professor—is Ral—is he okay?"

There was a pause, and Jace's stomach prepared to void itself again.

"He's still asleep," Professor Granger said. "The healers are hopeful, but he was quite seriously affected, so they're keeping him sedated until the nerves are fully healed."

The Cruciatus curse. Right. And Jace had just—just stood there and fucking watched as Ral—as he screamed—

And there it all was, preserved in perfect sound and color in his memory whenever he felt like going back for it. "But he's gonna be okay, right?"

"Almost certainly." Almost. Jace felt sick.

"What about Elspeth? And Nissa? Are—are they—"

"They both woke up yesterday. They're still a little weak, but nothing worse than a bad flu." Jace felt his shoulders slump a little, and Professor Granger patted his shoulder reassuringly. "We were more worried about you than about anyone else."

"Me?" Jace echoed in confusion. "Why?" They shouldn't have worried about him. This whole mess was his fault, after all. His stomach turned over as he remembered commandeering Teysa's head. Not that he'd really had much of a choice by that time, but it was still—not the greatest thing he'd ever done.

Professor Granger's eyebrows went up. "Perhaps you don't realize this, Jace, but you were in a coma. Again. Ms. Karloff spent three days trying to sort out her memories from yours—" Jace winced, "—and since you'd clearly done some complex legilimency with her and, according to her, with Vess, after throwing off the effects of an extremely complex and powerful love potion, we were afraid you might be—damaged. Possibly irreparably."

Why hadn't anyone noticed the potion earlier? Did Jace just normally act the way he'd been acting? He was pretty sure that wasn't true. Maybe no one cared enough. It had been a few years since he'd felt like that, but the sick feeling was rising in his stomach again, and he scrunched his eyes shut. "Yeah, well, I'm fine," he said shortly, swallowing down all the other words in a painful lump. Ral had cared. Ral had cared, and now he was—

Jace swiped an arm across his eyes, and then thought of something else. "Where's Kallist?" he demanded. "What did she do to him?" He couldn't remember what excuse Liliana had given him, but he knew he hadn't seen the little cloud in the entire semester.

"Would you like to see him? We just didn't want him raining all over your hospital bed while you were unconscious."

"Yeah."

"I think Mirko would also like to check on you, if you don't mind."

Jace's brain threw up the fuzzy memory of standing still as Mirko was banished, and he gulped in another sudden breath of panic. "Mirko—"

"—helped put your mind back together after this whole mess," Professor Granger told him firmly.

"They're okay, too? But weren't they—b-banished?"

"Teysa and Chandra told us they were, but they reconstituted with what seemed to be all their memories, somehow. I don't think anyone's asked them yet." She cracked a faint smile. "It's been a bit busy around here."

"Yeah, I'll see them," Jace said, breathing a guilty sigh of relief that he hadn't just stood there and watched while one of his closest friends had died.

"And I'm sure your mother will want to see you as well. She was up with you all last night, and she's still asleep."

Ranna. "Did—Liliana—did she put my mum under—"

Because if anyone should have noticed he was acting oddly, it was his mum.

"She's fine, Jace," Professor Granger said evasively, and Jace sat up and reached for the hood of his cloak, but she put her hands over his. "Jace. Don't."

"Then tell me."

Professor Granger frowned. "You have to promise not to use legilimency until the healers say you can."

Jace's lips thinned. "No," he said tautly. "I'm not promising fucking anything. I'm not going to do what someone else says, I don't care what happens to me, it's not like you cared enough to notice—" He cut himself off, because he was not going to fucking cry right now. He just wasn't.

There was a soft intake of breath. "All right," Professor Granger said. "You don't have to promise, Jace. But please consider your mother's feelings before you do something that runs the risk of damaging your mind."

"…fine," he muttered into the covers.

"Ranna was under a befuddlement charm, quite a strong one. She did not have a good reaction to it, but she is fine. All right?"

So he'd gotten his mother hurt as well. Of course. Jace wanted to kick and scream and punch. He wanted to bite through the flesh of his hands, rip his cloak off and just let himself dissolve into everyone around him. Some little insistent voice in the back of his head held him back from doing any of that, and instead, he just nodded shortly. "Yeah, okay. Can I see Kallist and Mirko now?"

A pause. Professor Granger sighed. "Yes, Jace."

And then I'm getting out of here. Kallist and Mirko would help him, Jace was sure, and he suddenly couldn't stand being in the Hospital Wing any longer. He needed to be somewhere where he didn't feel as if people were trying to keep him still, were hovering over him and watching—now, now they were, when no one had been there earlier. When no one had seen anything wrong, except—except Ral, and Ral—

He's going to be okay. He's got to be okay.

If Ral wasn't okay, Jace thought bleakly, he was never going to be okay again. Ever.

Hermione put her head into her hands. This was a mess. Everything was a mess. She'd never seen Jace so angry before. He was usually the quiet one. It wasn't as if he was a model student, but he didn't usually get angry the way some of the other students—Ral especially—did. He was hurting terribly—no wonder—and she had no idea how to help.

A pair of soft hands landed on her shoulders. "Hermione?"

"Morning." She leaned backward miserably. "Oh, Luna. I don't know what to do. They're all hurt so badly, and we should have protected them. I should have kept them safe." She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes.

"Me, too," Luna whispered. "I'm a professor too, Hermione."

"You don't know Jace or Ral. I thought it was just the usual teenage drama, and I shouldn't have. I should have pressed harder when Ral got upset about it, but I thought—oh, I don't know." She shut her eyes against the feeling, but it only got worse. "I don't think Jace will ever trust me again," she sniffed. "I've known him since he was five, Luna, and I—I wanted to adopt him, and he—he'll never trust me again, and, honestly, I don't blame him! I wouldn't trust me again!"

Ron, back when they were dating, would have protested. Would have told Hermione that it wasn't her fault or some other such nonsense. Luna didn't say anything. She just leaned forward and pressed her cheek into Hermione's, and held her, arms crossed over the front of Hermione's chest. Another sob welled out of Hermione's throat.

"People don't trust people because they deserve it," Luna said slowly. "We just have to help Jace now."

"But how?" Hermione asked wildly. "Oh, Merlin, if I knew how to help, I would do it! I'd do anything, I really would. But this is…this is so…"

"Maybe we could ask Ginny what helped her?"

"Ginny?"

"Well, you know, she did say to me that the year she was possessed by Voldemort was quite bad, and I know she still has nightmares about it, of course, but she's doing rather well, all things considered." Luna pressed her lips into Hermione's hair.

"Yes, I suppose it couldn't hurt." Hermione sniffed again and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "I really must stop feeling so sorry for myself. I just need to figure out what Jace needs right now."

She firmly pushed away the raw, appalled feeling of guilt and hurt and the prick of he will never trust you again and sat up. "Yes," she managed briskly. "Let's owl Ginny. It definitely can't hurt. And—and we'll talk to Ranna, now that she's feeling better and Jace is awake."

"Hermione—oh, thank goodness." It was Madam Pomfrey, frowning, worried.

Hermione's heart leapt into her throat. Everyone had been doing so much better—had Ral taken a turn for the worse? Had— "What is it, Poppy?"

"Mr. Beleren is gone."

Oh no. Hermione shut her eyes. "All right. Get hold of Harry and Draco—" she was relatively sure she remembered someone telling her they'd gotten back at some point in the past twelve hours, but she'd been too busy checking on the students in the Hospital Wing to interface with them, "—get hold of everyone. We've got to find him."

"We will." Luna squeezed her shoulder. "We'll find him."

Elspeth blinked her eyes open. She'd been drifting in and out of consciousness for several days now, during which time she'd managed to gather a fair bit about what had been going on since she'd collapsed at her Quidditch match. The experience was incredibly frustrating. Every time she started feeling guilty about not listening to Ral when he'd been thoroughly and utterly vindicated, she fell asleep again. She would have been furious with herself if she'd had the energy for it.

This time, although she was still tired enough that she didn't feel like getting out of the bed, she was at least clearheaded enough to not want to fall back to sleep. For several minutes, she lay and breathed and enjoyed the sensation of being aware of things around her. She could hear cloth shifting somewhere beside her, and after another few minutes, she turned her head to the side.

Teysa was looking back at her, face open with surprise.

"Hello," Elspeth said weakly.

"H-hi," her penpal stammered back. "How are you feeling?"

She was perched on one of the ugly hospital chairs, one leg drawn up beneath her and the other not quite reaching the ground. She seemed even smaller in person than she had in her picture, somehow.

"Still tired." Digging her elbow into the bed, Elspeth slowly started propping herself up. It wasn't easy, but she managed. "What are you doing here?" No, wait, that was a silly question, she'd heard enough snatches of conversation to know. "You came because you were worried about me."

Teysa opened her mouth and took in a quick breath. "I—well, yes."

"I'd say this is unusual, but it's really not. You already sort of know that, though." They'd been penpals for long enough that Teysa was privy to quite a number of the more dangerous stunts that Jace and Ral had pulled over the years. Elspeth thought, rather sanctimoniously, that she had at least not instigated any of those, and then thought again about Ral trying to make anyone listen to him, and writhed.

"It is a bit unusual," Teysa said softly.

Elspeth nodded, turning her face to the side so that the pillow would catch the tears. "How are Ral and Jace?" she asked.

"Ral's—okay. He's not awake, but they said that's mostly because they haven't let him. His nerves need time to heal, or he would have a very unpleasant few days."

"And Jace?" Elspeth pressed uneasily.

Teysa shrugged. "Last I heard, he hadn't woken up yet. He, um, left some bits in my head."

That didn't sound good. "What bits?" Elspeth asked nervously.

"Mostly good bits," Teysa said, with a wave of her hand. "I know how it feels to do magic, now. But…" she chewed on her lip. "Well, I may have added to my stock of really terrible memories. I already had quite a number of those."

Elspeth pulled a face. "Yeah, I've seen a few of Jace's memories," she said quietly. "He shouldn't have to deal with them. Nobody else should, either."

"Don't worry about me." Teysa leaned forward and gingerly patted Elspeth's hand. "I'm good at taking care of myself. I've been doing it for a while."

"Of course." Smiling, Elspeth took Teysa's hand. That much was probably all right, at least.

"Can I hug you?" Definitely all right, then. Elspeth nodded. Grunting, Teysa shifted herself forward so that she could get down from the chair and kneel on the bed.

"I was so worried," she admitted softly as Elspeth gathered her in her arms. She was so small that Elspeth could rest her chin on Teysa's head, although partly that was because Teysa was pushing her face into Elspeth's chest. "You—you are one of my only friends, and I thought I was going to lose you. I would have killed the witch if I could."

"So would I." Elspeth looked up. Jace, trembling, his cloak pulled tight around him, stood in the doorway, Kallist hovering directly overhead. A blurred figure hovering behind him had to be Mirko. "But then I guess we both tried to. I'm so sorry, both of you."

"Jace!" Elspeth exclaimed. "Oh, Merlin! How are you feeling?"

"Oh, um, I'm fine," Jace said vaguely. "Would you mind if I used your window?"

Elspeth blinked at him. "My…window?" she repeated.

"I, um, I really would like to not be here anymore. In the room. In the hospital wing, I mean."

"Are you sure…" Elspeth trailed off uncertainly. Jace looked exhausted. There were huge, dark circles beneath his eyes, and his face was pale and gaunt, as if he'd been sick for weeks.

"Yeah, I just. I feel. I feel trapped. Please."

She was nodding almost before he'd finished the sentence, because Jace should not have that raw, frightened note of pleading in his voice. He hadn't sounded this small and afraid in years. Teysa slid across the bed and undid the window by hand. "Here. Just be careful, all right?"

"Mmm," Jace assented, and Elspeth really hoped he'd heard her.

"Jace," she said quickly.

"Huh?" He turned as he stepped up onto the window ledge, Kallist floating above him and Mirko behind him.

"I'm sorry. I should've listened to Ral."

For an instant, Jace's face crumpled, tears welling up in his eyes, and he gulped in a sob. Then he shut his eyes and stepped backwards. Elspeth's stomach jumped into her throat before she heard him say, "Wingardium leviosa," catching himself before he'd fallen more than a foot or so.

"Where are you going?" Elspeth asked. "I mean, if—can I ask that?" He was so skittish right now.

"Mmm. Astronomy Tower, I think." Jace sounded distracted. "Uh, I guess you can tell Professor Malfoy if he asks, but don't tell anyone else, please?"

"I won't. I promise."

He nodded jerkily and disappeared from view below the window. Elspeth found herself staring after him. "Oh, damn," she said suddenly, pressing her hands to her eyes. "Oh, damn, damn, damn."

"You can cry if you need to," Teysa said in a small voice. "I cried a lot, actually. Although I'm not exactly sure if I was the one crying the whole time."

Elspeth sniffed and brushed the tears away, decided she wasn't quite ready to have a good cry just yet, and rested her head on Teysa's shoulder. "Everything is awful," she said. "It's so awful."

"Jace is awake," Teysa pointed out, "Ral is doing better, Jace is out of my head, and I'm here now. I even got to use magic."

"Still."

"Yes, it's not great." She sighed, and one hand brushed gently against Elspeth's cheek. "I don't know your friends, not really. I know you—a bit—but I don't know you as well as I should. I should have visited you much earlier than this, but, well, I—"

"You can't do magic, and you didn't want to feel out of place at Hogwarts. You said, I got it, I never expected you to come out here." Elspeth reached out, found Teysa's hand, and interlaced their fingers. "I'm just glad you're here now."

"I should have been here earlier." Teysa was pensive. "Not because I could possibly have known about this—" And Elspeth felt an unpleasant twinge, because she should've known. She should've listened to Ral. "But because I've been living in my own little bubble for too long. Everything you sent me about this summer sounded fantastic."

"You'd like it." Elspeth smiled, thinking about Teysa wearing Muggle clothes, going on an outing with her and Ral to the mall. "You'd love it."

"Maybe we can talk about something like that once things get a bit, well, better."

"Yeah," Teysa agreed.

They leaned against one another, and Elspeth was starting to feel drowsy again—so she probably still needed some time to recover—when someone knocked on the door.

Teysa glanced over and waited for Elspeth to nod before calling out, "Come in!"

It was Professor Granger, looking worried. "Have either of you seen Jace?" she asked. Elspeth found herself glancing over at Teysa, but Teysa's face was smooth and unconcerned. Elspeth herself felt faintly sick and worried, and she wasn't about to lie to a professor, but she wasn't going to do anything Jace didn't want, either.

So she said, "Is Professor Malfoy there?"