CHAPTER EIGHT
Fortunately for everyone, perhaps, Icarus finds himself prevented from attempting another life-threatening project by the impending exams.
"You're overthinking it," he explains, for what feels like the millionth time, "they already gave us an idea of what the exams are going to cover. If you try to cram too much in, you won't remem-"
"I already know I'm an idiot," Arianna says miserably, "you don't have to tell me."
Icarus stares at her, then buries his face in his hands. He takes a deep breath.
"Wow," Nathan whispers loudly to Esther, who'd joined their study group a few days before, "this is new."
"Ari," Icarus says, lifting his head, "have I said that you're an idiot?"
"No," she grumbles.
"Then listen to what I'm fucking saying," he snaps, "and stop acting like it's doomsday."
"Oh, dear," Esther mumbles, as Arianna's eyes fill with tears.
In the end, the week passes by quite smoothly, and the stress of exams dissolves with the long, lazy days that follow. Icarus manages an awkward, fumbling apology, which Arianna accepts, bemused, and they spend most of their free time outside by the lake or at Hagrid's hut, downing jugs of elderflower cordial and lemonade.
And one night, his dream - the one he'd been having since Halloween - changes.
He's still in the forest, still at the crossroads, but he's tired of drowning. So he turns left and walks into the shadows. For a while, the path is smooth and easy-to-tread. Then the roots start to appear. The first few stub his toes and he finds himself climbing over the foliage, curses pouring from his lips like air.
It isn't until he's been walking for ages; until he realizes his legs are burning and he can feel the cuts in his feet, that he stops.
It isn't until he stops that he realizes he's awake.
He's used to the forest, even at night, thanks to his insatiable desire to explore. He's used to the trees and the animals and the way the air flows. But now everything is still. Everything is silent.
Something's wrong.
His heart slams against his ribcage. Dumbledore's words at the beginning of the year echo in his head.
Had he been sleepwalking this entire time? Had no one told him?
He takes a step back without meaning to, jumping as a twig snaps underfoot. The shadows in front of him shift; they seem to harden, to take the shape of something huge and cruel.
Little kitten, they hiss, I was wondering when you'd come.
Run, he thinks.
His body doesn't listen. It doesn't even budge.
A sound huffs out of the shadow. A sort of low, building laugh.
Run, he tells himself again, RUN!
Finally, it listens. He turns, and shifts, and flees just in time to feel the brush air against his back where there should've been claws. He's a fast runner, naturally, but he's barely fast enough to outpace the thing chasing him - and his fear makes him clumsy.
The trees are just starting to thin when, attempting to leap over a cluster of roots, he tumbles to the ground. The steps behind him are light, playful. Whatever it is, it's toying with him, making a game out of the chase.
He scrambles to find his footing, to reach the edge of the forest, but he's not going to, even if - even if -
Something large and impossibly white charges out of the cover of the trees and past him. The shadow roars, furious, and Icarus doesn't even look back as he runs from the forest onto the moonlit grounds.
He starts to slow halfway across, exhausted; and a scream rips through the air.
His blood turns to ice. He'd never heard her - he's never heard her scream, but he'd know - he knew -
He runs as fast as he can to the closest entrance - shifting back to slam through the doors and pound up the stairs to the faculty tower. He's almost halfway there, rounding a corner, when he slams into something large and dark.
A cry rips itself from his lips before he can stop it.
"Mr. Sørensen?"
He's scrambling away - he has to find someone - some other -
"Mr. Sørensen," Professor Karim says, the corridor blooming suddenly with light as he takes a firm, but gentle hold of Icarus' arm, "what-"
"Prof-" he tries, "pro - there's some-"
"Icarus," Professor Karim says, worried, "Icarus, breathe."
He can't. His lungs are straining for air and his throat's closing around any attempt to speak. Dimly, he's aware he might be having a panic attack.
Professor Karim mutters something and a blast of light shoots from the end of his wand to soar down the corridor. A moment later, Icarus is sitting against the cool stone wall, face pressed against his knees, trying to remember how lungs are supposed to work.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Professor Karim says, "I found him like this."
"Icarus," Severus says, kneeling to join him on the floor, "drink. It'll help."
Very slowly, Icarus manages to unravel enough to take the flask with a shaky hand and downs the calming drought. Then, once his heart manages to slow to a reasonable pace and his breathing evens out, he speaks.
"There's something in the forest," he says, meeting his father's worried gaze, "something that's not supposed to be there. I almost - I almost didn't -" He swallows, "I didn't sneak out. I was dreaming, and the dream changed and I woke up there. I think - I think someone else did too. I heard a scream. I think it might've been Ari."
Severus and Professor Karim exchange a glance. Then, without a word, Professor Karim turns on his heel and sprints down the corridor.
The minute he's gone, Severus drops his glamor.
"You were sleepwalking?"
"It's never happened before," Icarus says, the calming drought blocking the wave of panic he knows he'll feel later, "at least, I don't think so. Nathan would've noticed. He would've told me."
Severus studies him for a moment, before nodding.
"What attacked you? Did you see it?"
"No, not really. It was - it was like the shadows all gathered together. I think it was waiting for me. I only got away because something fought it off."
"Waiting for you?"
"It said it'd been wondering when I'd come."
"Ok," Severus breathes, looking paler than could possibly be healthy, "ok. I'm going to take you up to the hospital wing, understand? I'll get Poppy to keep an eye on you, and then I'm going to help Manish search the forest."
…
Icarus wakes up with a headache.
The brightness of the hospital wing presses against his eyelids before he even realizes he's trying to open them. Madam Pomfrey, he's certain, had spiked his tea the night before with sleeping draught.
He rubs a hand over his face and struggles to sit up, squinting to take in his surroundings.
Other than himself, the only other occupied bed is curtained off, in the corner on the other side of the room. He swallows back the dread that rises in his stomach and reaches over for the glass of water on his bedside table.
"Oh, good, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey says, bustling out of her office, "how are you feeling?"
He shrugs.
"Well, I've already sent a message off to Professor Snape," she says, setting down a pile of clothes on the end of his bed, "he'll be up to collect you soon. You might as well change in the meantime."
She pulls the curtain facing the door shut and goes over to the other occupant. Icarus catches only a glimpse of starched white sheets and a metal bed frame before it slips out of sight again.
He sets his water down and climbs off the bed, wincing. His cuts and bruises had been treated while he was asleep but only time would be able to erase the ache of running.
Once he's done changing, he opens the curtain and perches on the edge of the bed, ruined pajamas clutched in his hands.
He doesn't have to wait long.
Severus slips into the hospital wing like a shadow. The door shuts quietly behind him, as he makes his way over to Icarus' bed.
"You're awake," he says, soft voice loud in the empty room, "I was convinced Poppy had overdosed you."
"I'd thank you not to comment on my practice while I can hear you, Severus," she calls from behind the curtain.
Severus pulls a face, but Icarus can't even bring himself to smile.
"Is it-"
"Unfortunately," Severus confirms, slipping back into character, "but she wasn't attacked by whatever you encountered in the forest, Mr. Sørensen. She was cursed."
"C-cursed?"
Severus nods, grimacing.
"The Ministry will be sending officials within the next hour," he says, "they'll be expecting a testimony from you, considering you were the only other known human in the forest at that time. However -" he leans down and studies Icarus' face closely, "if you are not up to it, I will simply take your testimony and deliver it to them."
Icarus swallows.
"I'll speak to them."
"Very well. Come along, then, and bring those pajamas with you."
The journey to Dumbledore's office is filled by silence. They take a path to avoid the portraits and the statues so Severus can lower his glamor - a way to offer comfort, Icarus is sure, but not particularly one that works - and end up ducking through a tapestry of a knight and a dragon to stand in front of a large gargoyle.
"Pear drops," Severus murmurs, putting his glamor back in place.
The gargoyle shifts, turning and rising with the stairs they step on, before coming to a stop in front a large oak door. The office they step into is huge; but the details are lost to him when he notices the small crowd in front of the fireplace.
He recognizes the Professors immediately - Dumbledore and McGonagall and Sprout - but the other three are clearly from the Ministry. Two of them are women; one dressed in the silver and black robes of an Unspeakable, the other in the solid black of Law enforcement. The other stands by the fireplace, his crimson auror robes hidden half in shadow.
Icarus holds the pajamas closer to himself, feeling small and out-of-place.
"Ah," says the woman in black, rising from her seat, "awake, are we?"
She walks over to them and reaches out to shake his hand. He hesitates, but despite the stern features of her face, her gray eyes are kind.
"My name is Amelia Bones," she says, "I'm the deputy head of the DMLE. My companions here are Kingsley Shacklebolt and Saori Masako. We understand that there was an incident in the forest last night and we'd like to ask you some questions."
"Two," Severus says, before Icarus has a chance to respond.
She blinks, startled, and looks over at him.
"Pardon?"
"There were two incidents in the forest last night," Severus says coolly.
"Yes," she says, "of course…after you, please." she gestures towards the fireplace.
Icarus settles himself on the couch facing them, while Severus leans against the other side of the fireplace, arms crossed.
"Something to drink, Mr. Sørensen?" Amelia asks, taking her own seat back, "Tea?"
"No, thank you."
His voice comes out quiet, barely more than a whisper. She nods and pulls out a roll of parchment.
"Well, then," she says, "let's begin, shall we?"