I apologize about my delayed reply, Wystan wrote. Can it really be March already? I bet you're already revising, aren't you? I wish revising was all I had to worry about. I know it seems stressful when you're still in Hogwarts, but now that I'm out in the so-called 'real world,' life at Hogwarts seems so much easier. I envy you. I really do.

I'm sure you've been keeping up with what's reported in the Prophet? To be honest, as hyperbolic as the newspapers are, none of them can fully express just how awful it is. Those little moments of connection that used to make up our lives? Those smiles and nods that we gave to our neighbours? Gone. Friendly get-togethers? No one wants to have them anymore. The shops? Empty. Everyone orders everything by owl-post nowadays. No one wants to go out. It's - well, honestly, it's just lonely. I have Calypso, of course, and she's a comfort. And I have FLAME to manage as well. But I'm starting to feel like we're stuck here, on an island, with no one to hear our lonely calls (aren't I poetic?)

And yes, it seems like the Orange Madness is only getting worse. You truly are fortunate in Hogwarts. And while there have been a few purebloods that have been affected, no one pays attention to those cases. Everyone calls it a muggleborn disease. The mindset is toxic.

But not all is bad, I suppose. I saw your opinion pieces in the Prophet. You know, it's actually swayed a lot of minds, and they've put off that vote on the Muggleborn registry.

Callidus knit his brows. Opinion pieces? But then he remembered: he had let Hermione make use of his surname to write to the Daily Prophet. He had nearly forgotten about that (and he never cared to read opinion pieces).

Opponents are saying that more research is needed to test the Muggleborn-disease link before doing anything so drastic as a registry, Wystan continued. Frankly, I agree. The registry is pure fear mongering. It's disgusting.

Anyway, I haven't had time to looking into those enchantment commissions for you. Not yet. Things are far too busy right now. I mentioned some of my suspicions about the Orange Madness, yeah? We haven't reached any firm conclusions yet, but the more I learn, the more I suspect that it isn't a natural disease. But what to do with this information, I'm not certain yet.

I'll ask about the enchantments when I have the time. In the meantime, stay safe,

Wystan

Callidus drew his brows together in contemplation, rereading sections of Wystan's letter before folding it up and tucking it into his pocket. He peered over at Harry. His friend's expression was bleary, as if trying to eat breakfast was stretching the limits of his mental capacity. Harry didn't look in Rowle's direction once, which was unusual. As for Rowle, she seemed subdued, lips pursed unhappily, but Callidus didn't care enough about her personal life to determine why.

Surreptitiously, he glanced towards the Gryffindor table. Hermione was intent upon the Daily Prophet, absorbing the news as if her very well being depended on it, and perhaps it did. Ginny I was giggling, while Caiside smirked, but Callidus wasn't interested in the girls. His eyes slid towards Longbottom, who was seated near the other boys in his house, together and yet looking somehow apart. Longbottom had cancelled their previous tutoring session, claiming that he hadn't been feeling well. Would he make the same excuse tonight? A sense of guilt still wormed about in Callidus's chest, and as much as he tried to distract himself with school work and other matters, a dismal feeling persisted in followed him. Callidus sighed, but no one noticed. They probably assumed his gloomy mood was due to schoolwork or potions, and it was probably better that way.

The school day passed slowly. Even humiliating Lockhart had grown wearisome yet again, and nothing that Lockhart had done lately could rival the ridiculousness of Valentine's Day. By the time they were finished their final class, Callidus wasn't certain whether he was glad the day was over, or whether he wished he had a few more classes if only to avoid his confrontation with Longbottom. Why did he even care about Longbottom's stupid feelings? It was inevitable that someone so sensitive would be hurt. Callidus had probably done him a favour by showing him just how harsh the world could be. Perhaps if he told himself that three or four more times, he might start to believe it.

The trio descended one of the many staircases, on their way to the entrance of the secret chamber when a wail reverberated through the corridors, causing Callidus's hair to stand on end. The trio exchanged glances.

"Let's take a look," Harry said. "Someone might need our help."

"Are you serious?" Draco moaned, though both Callidus and Draco knew very well that Harry was indeed quite serious. "We should just leave it to the professors. What if someone has the Orange Madness again? It isn't our job to take care of their problems."

Callidus shivered. Draco's words felt like a premonition.

"Yeah, but we have friendliness bombs," Harry argued.

"And we've never tested them on people who are infected," Callidus pointed out.

"No time like the present, then!" Harry retorted, venturing off in the direction of the wails before Callidus and Draco could argue further.

After shooting Harry an irritated look, Draco quickened his steps to follow, and Callidus, who matched his steps, heard him mutter: "When will Harry learn that not everyone deserves help."

"Only those who can afford it?" Callidus drawled.

Draco gave him a quick look before saying: "Or those who have some concept of debt." He shook his head. "What would Harry do without us to watch out for him?"

But before Callidus could answer, there was another wail, that turned into to teeth-clenched moan. Callidus and Draco turned a corner, nearly walking into Harry who had halted in his steps. There was a group of students surrounding someone who was huddled on the floor. Several other students were drawing closer, attracted by the strange noise, but many others were running away.

"- might be someone who's infected," Callidus heard someone say. "Get out of my way! I'm not staying here!"

Callidus saw Draco tugging on Harry's sleeve, grip tight enough that his knuckles were white. "Harry. We should leave."

"We can't use the friendliness bomb with this many people nearby," Callidus said.

"Someone, call for a professor!" a voice called out. It was alarming enough that many of the other curious students began to back away, the urgency finally overcoming their curiosity.

"Nnngh - d-don't come n-near me! Aarrhnnnngg!"

Callidus's eyes widened. He recognized that voice. It sounded like -

"Longbottom?" Without realizing it, he had pushed his way forward. His eyes widened when he saw the familiar round-faced boy crouched on the floor, hands gripping tufts of his hair as if by doing so, he could keep a grip on his own mind.

"P-Prince? Nnngh! Get away! I-I-I'm not right! G-Get Away!" Longbottom leapt up with alarming speed, his eyes wild, but instead of lunging forward, he slammed himself backwards against the wall with enough force that Callidus could hear the air leaving his lungs.

He felt something wrenching his robes "Callidus! Let's get out of here!" Draco cried.

"S-stay away!" Longbottom moaned. "I can't - I can't -" The boy's grip on his hair tightened and he let another heart-piercing wail that caused goose-pimples to spread across Callidus's skin.

Callidus knew that there were still far too many students nearby to make use of the friendliness bomb, though many of them had finally understood the situation and left. If even one single student were near, it would present too great of a risk. One overly-friendly student would be completely mauled if Longbottom lost control and let his aggression rule.

"S-stop me!" Longbottom begged, eyes focusing and unfocusing on Callidus. "D-don't l-let me hurt anyone!"

But Callidus was shaking his head, unprepared for what was facing him, and unable to think of what to do. If only he had seen Longbottom at their previous tutoring session! If only Longbottom hadn't cancelled! Then, he might have recognized early symptoms of the disease, and gotten help sooner.

"Stupefy!" Harry's voice seemed to ring through the hallway, his aim true, and seconds later, Longbottom's eyes drifted closed and he slumped against the wall and collapsed. Merlin.

Callidus knew it was a risk to himself, but he was too worried about the Gryffindor. He rushed up to Longbottom's side, relieved to see that he hadn't injured himself when he lost consciousness, but moments later, he felt himself being pulled away. The professors and Madam Pomfrey had arrived.

"You did well, Harry," McGonagall's voice said behind him. "Your quick thinking may have saved others from harm."

"I'll take care of this, Mr Prince," Madam Pomfrey said, gently nudging him aside. "We still don't know how the disease spreads. You should return to the common room with your friends."

Feeling numb, Callidus nodded and made his way to Harry and Draco's side. There were still a few curious students who surrounded the scene, and among them, Callidus spotted a familiar face that suddenly turned his blood to ice: Alphie. The fifth year boy bared his teeth in what could be called a smile, if smiles were sinister and hungry things. Just as disconcerting was the fact that he had his wand out, but then again, so did many of the other students around him. Callidus narrowed his eyes and looked away, feeling for his own wand as if to ensure that he wasn't entirely defenseless. He would have to deal with the fifth years later. Or perhaps sooner rather than later. But at the moment, all he could think about was Longbottom.

"It feels like this just keeps getting worse," Harry said as they left the scene. "It's weird isn't it?"

Callidus was still too dazed to respond, unable to let go of the image of Longbottom's frantic face and frightened eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked Harry.

"I mean -" Harry rolled his bottom lip beneath his teeth. "I know that Hogwarts is safer than any place else in Britain, so it's easy to forget about the Orange Madness. But on top of that, well, haven't you noticed?"

Draco's eyebrows lifted.

"No Slytherins have been infected."

Draco snorted. " I imagine it's our superior bloodlines."

"Longbottom is a pureblood," Callidus said, finally paying attention to the conversation.

"He's a Gryffindor," Draco retorted, as if that explained everything.

"He's one of the Sacred Twenty-eight," Callidus replied, referencing the twenty-eight families that were considered the most of pureblood all. "His bloodline is 'superior' to a large majority of Slytherins."

Draco huffed with irritation. "But Harry's still right. No Slytherins have been infected. Something about us is superior."

Callidus narrowed his eyes. "Compared to the rest of Britain, relatively few people here have been infected. It could be mere chance that no Slytherins have gotten sick."

"But what if it isn't? What if something about us is different?" Harry wondered. "Shouldn't we find out what that is?"

A small smile pulled at the corners of Callidus's lips. "Are you suggesting research Harry?"

"I - hm - yeah, you're right. That sounds like too much work. I mean - well, I hate that people are getting sick. But even if I try and research, it's probably all been considered before."

Callidus snorted. He had a feeling that Harry wouldn't be interested in research. But Callidus himself had been aware that thus far, Slytherins had been spared from the disease. He hadn't wanted to assume a pattern that wasn't there - not when so few students were actually infected. And while Harry might not have been interested enough to research the disease, Callidus was. And with a pang, he realized that now that Longbottom had fallen ill, he wouldn't be attending their tutoring sessions, and Callidus would have more free time to research. Shouldn't he be feeling relief?

After a pause, Harry asked: "Are we going down to the chamber today?"

Callidus grimaced. "I'm rather worn out."

"What we need are sofas and cushions," Draco declared.

Callidus and Harry looked over at him, expressions questioning.

"I'm aware that the chamber is still a mess, and the temperature charms need work, and the decor, while impressive, is rather austere, but it's still our space," Draco pointed out. "We have to make it comfortable. We have to make it ours. Especially if we'll be using it frequently. Which we will be, of course. And also, we really need a more elegant way of climbing out of the chamber. I refuse to believe that Salazar Slytherin climbed up those pipes by making the surface temporarily sticky like we do. It's so -" he creased his nose in an expression of disgust.

"Where are we going to get furniture?" Harry asked.

Callidus rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten your own Transfigurations abilities?"

Harry lit up. "Oh yeah!"

"Are you sure that you can Transfigure furniture of sufficient quality?" Draco asked doubtfully.

Harry's lips crooked upwards. "I'm one of the best in our year, aren't I?"

Draco frowned. "Yes, but we're only second years so that's not very reassuring."

Harry huffed. "I'm sure I can make something pretty enough to suit your tastes. And comfortable enough to suit mine."

Callidus shook his head, slowly tuning out his friends, knowing they would be arguing about furniture types all the way down to the chamber.

Tidying and furnishing the secret chamber proved to be an excellent distraction, but when Callidus laid his head upon his pillow that night, his thoughts returned to Longbottom, and he suddenly remembered Alphie's face in the crowd. He pursed his lips. Harry hadn't mentioned hearing anything with his Spider Ears spell. But Callidus wasn't naive enough to assume that he was safe. Alphie's expression had promised trouble. Closing his eyes, Callidus focused on clearing his mind, and when he drifted off to sleep, the blank sense of nothingness remained.

"What's this?"

Callidus frowned, recognizing Hoyt's voice, and shortly after, his surroundings began to materialize. He was in a stretch of corridor, with no distinguishing features to mark its location. It was just an prototypical conjuration of his mind.

"Hoyt," Callidus said emotionlessly, though beneath his stony face, his emotions were a tempest. Why could he so vividly remember what had happened in all their past encounters during his dreams, while forgetting them upon waking? How was it even possible for him to forget torture? But no, there was no sense of thinking of such things. He had to maintain his coolness, his equanimity. As he stilled his mind, he saw the corridor begin to fade into blankness, but as his pulse leapt in excitement, the corridor once again solidified.

"Your dreams are awfully boring," Hoyt said, her nose crinkled.

"That's the influence of your presence," Callidus quipped, coldly.

Hoyt narrowed her eyes. "Then it's a good thing I won't be alone this time, won't it?" Seconds later, her friends appeared behind her, Alphie crying out: "Finally! It's been waaay too long!"

"Have some dignity," the dark-skinned boy, Randle (or so Draco had called him), scoffed.

The mousey-haired boy, Drefen, rolled his eyes. "Alphie's hopeless. He's got all the self-control of a crup. An untrained one."

Seeing the fourth fifth years together caused Callidus's guts to twist. But there was no sense listening to their banter. He had to keep his mind blank, and maintain his self-control.

"Ah, but Alphie doesn't need to have self-control, does he?" Hoyt gave one of her lizard-like grins, but her words weren't directed at her friends; they were directed at Callidus.

Callidus narrowed his eyes, unwilling to be baited. But Hoyt did not care if Callidus responded or not.

"After all -"

"I'll be able to get you soon, all by myself!" Alphie crowed, interrupting Hoyt, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, thank you, Alphie," Hoyt said irritably, before turning her attention back to Callidus, the reptilian smile back in place. "In case you haven't figured it out, I'm teaching Alphie how to dream link. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Callidus's lips tilted up, but his eyes remained detached. His blood, however, felt chilled to the bone. "Your family magics are so basic and simplistic that even he can learn them?"

Alphie snarled, and Callidus grit his teeth as pain ricocheted through every nerve in his body. It seemed to last a lifetime, but Hoyt made a motion and stopped him. Callidus felt his legs tremble, and edged towards the dream wall so that he could lean his weight against it and remain standing. His brow was beaded with sweat.

"How pathetic," Callidus lied.

Hoyt's eyes were narrow slits. "My family magics are far from simple. But you refuse to learn your lesson. Alphie told me that he saw you trying to help a Gryffindor earlier today. Hmp. Once a traitor, always a traitor, aren't you?"

"Longbottom's blood is better than yours could ever be, Hoyt. Or the rest of you."

"Was that who it was?" Hoyt answered, tone derisive. "That gormless little worm deserves all he got!"

The words hit Callidus far harder than he expected, and he felt a rage rising up within him, causing their surroundings to blacken, and the ground to shake. But instead of frightening the fifth years, Hoyt only widened her eyes and then laughed.

"Oh my. Did my words bother you?" she said. "You do care, don't you." She barked out a laugh. "I hadn't been too sure. After all, you're very adamant about staying away from the Gryffindors. But this just confirms it!"

Callidus's stomach was in knots, the chaos within him spreading and threatening to choke him, strangling the oxygen from his mind. He had to gain control of his emotions. He had to empty his head.

"Are we going to talk all night?" Alphie griped.

Hoyt smirked. "No, Alphie. In fact, I think I'm finished with speaking." The four fifth years lifted their wands, and Callidus braced himself. But he knew he couldn't withstand this, knew that he had let himself be weakened by Hoyt's words. And when their spell finally hit him, it was only a few seconds before screams were wrenched from his lips.

-o-

"Did you sleep well? You look - er - terrible."

Callidus frowned, brushing the hair away from his face as he sat up. "I - I might have had a nightmare. I - can't remember. I -" but then, Longbottom's frightened expression flashed behind his eyes, and then he recalled Alphie's face from the previous day. "Did you -" he darted a glance towards Draco, but the blond had buried his head under his pillow, stubbornly resisting the need to wake up, "hear anything? From the spiders?"

A crease appeared between Harry's brows. "I - I don't think so. But -"

Callidus waited patiently for Harry to finish.

Harry let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair so that it jutted at strange angles. "Honestly? I just -" he shook his head, "feel like I haven't been able to concentrate that well lately. I think it's that pendant that Draco gave me."

Callidus inhaled, and leaned towards Harry. "What do you mean?"

"I know you were convinced that it does something negative. But I haven't felt any different! Except I just. Can't. Concentrate! It drives me crazy. I feel like spells - some spells - are harder. And the Spider Ears spell is one of them. I don't see why I shouldn't wear the pendant."

Callidus pursed his lips. "I'm not forcing you -"

Harry smiled weakly. "I know. But - I mean, it worries you, right? So -" his shoulders slumped, as if crestfallen, and a renewed sense of guilt stabbed at Callidus's heart.

"Harry -" Harry looked up hopefully. "I -" Callidus looked away. "If you really think that pendant hasn't been doing anything negative, then I trust your judgement. It isn't up to me whether you wear it or not."

"You won't be upset?"

Callidus looked back at his friend. Merlin, it wasn't fair when Harry used his puppy-dog expression. Since when did Harry get so good at it anyway? "I won't be upset," he lied. And though some part of him hoped that Harry would see through his words, his friend simply beamed, and pulled the pendant from where he had kept it (in his pocket, apparently), and looped it around his neck. This time, though Callidus tried to sense any strange magics, he could detect nothing particularly unusual. He gave Harry a stiff smile, and dragged himself out of bed. Maybe once he had some breakfast, he'd stop feeling so utterly wretched.

A/N: I appreciate the reviews! I've been slacking off on writing lately :(