"You have to wake up …"

She keeps repeating it, over and over again, but it takes a while until these words stop coming through what feels like universes to me. Before I can grasp the meaning of them.

"You need to wake up, son of Slytherin," she hisses, gently nudging me with her mighty head once again.

The more I come to my senses, the more I realise I've quite likely lost all track of time. "What day is it?"

My voice sounds dull and terribly raspy – did the pain make me scream during the first ritual? I couldn't tell for the life of me.

"You've been asleep for two suns and moons."

I'm wide awake at once. "Two days? I've missed two days of classes? Why didn't you wake me up, Echidna?"

"I tried," she whispers in defeat, "you seemed dead, but you weren't as cold as me yet …"

Every little movement I make is agonising, but I have to get up as quickly as possible. And with Echidna's help, I eventually stand on my feet, yet I feel as though I've aged a hundred years.

And where does this bloody, chilling cold come from after that cursed trip to purgatory? It's as if an ice age has broken out in my veins and reaches out into every corner of my earthly shell. I'm literally freezing.

Perhaps – quite sure, even, looking down at myself and my clothes soiled by the chamber – the only thing that might be of help is a warm bath …

I'm exhausted and frustrated at that – since the coldness is probably stuck in my very bones now, and apparently no bath in the world can fix me. I adjust my shirt collar, right about to leave the changing rooms just when Dean Hornby runs into me as if on cue.

"Riddle," he says under his breath, staring at me as though I was a ghost. "So it's true – you're back …"

I look down at myself in mock-demonstration and nod. "It almost seems so, doesn't it?" Darkly intent I add, "I just wonder what you are doing here – in the Prefects' Bathroom."

"Oh, that's easily explained," he retorts, "Myrtle was kind enough to share the password with me. She's also not a Prefect, as you know – but when she was here just before Christmas, you didn't seem to mind it."

He gives me a challenging glance, but I'm really too tired to respond to that.

Hence disgruntled, he proceeds to add, "At least not after she agreed to leave you and Harper here, all alone." He inches closer to glare at me. "Your intentions were obviously of physical nature, and it's a shame she trusted you."

"Oh, you think so? I'll tell you something, Hornby, listen up. Had they been physical – subjunctive, mind you – you'd better trust her to make her own informed choices. Because the way I recall it, she was perfectly capable making them without you before two tiny Quidditch matches, wasn't she. And as for your intentions, do not forget it's not you who's setting the pace. She toyed with you, out of sheer boredom."

"You arrogant son of a –"

"Whatever you have in mind, I am just that – so watch your mouth accordingly!"

Still he draws closer as though he could threaten me in any reality. "You were just using her."

"Told you before," I almost whisper, staring down enough for him to begin questioning his own courage. "Anyone voicing bold theses ought to be prepared to justify – and defend – them with more than just personal disgust and misplaced polemics."

He gulps, yet bravely demands, "Don't get close to her again, Riddle."

"Oh no, Dean," I hum, giving him a cold smile as my silent Cruciatus brings him to his knees so abruptly that he can only look up at me with wide eyes gasping. I bend over him, glance at the horrified, coloured mermaid in the bathroom window and whisper, "You'd better not get too close to her again, now that I'm back."

And with that, I leave him coughing on the floor after releasing my curse. I step out into the corridor without even thinking about looking back.

And yet … I'm confused about my own actions.
Where did this sudden, urgent rage come from? Why did I just overreact like that? I would have loved to rip his head off, when I use Unforgivable Curses in the passing, my impulse control seems significantly lowered …
And why am I so dizzy? I'm incredibly tired.

I need coffee. Plenty of it.
Even though I have unrealistic expectations of a simple hot drink …

Curses and blessings continue to follow me wherever I go, or so it seems – in the Great Hall, at least, I'm fairly reluctant to catch Leonora, Rouvenia and Harper whispering during breakfast at the Ravenclaw table.

"There!" Leonora hisses, pointing towards the entrance to the Great Hall as secretly as she can – and towards me, but I'm neither deaf nor blind. "There he is!"

Harper turns around at once, and obviously regrets it.

Our eyes meet, and we exchange a glance as electrifying as cold. She's hoping mad, I can tell, and likely she keeps watching me as I walk towards the far edge of the Slytherin table to have a cup of coffee filled by magic.

"Bad mood again," Rouvenia quietly assumes, but still she's loud enough.

"Definitely," Leonora agrees, "but at least he's not missing anymore. What's he been doing for two entire days?"

I empty my coffee, then I grumble over my shoulder, "Leonora, I know that Hufflepuff isn't used to gossiping – but you should consider keeping a lower voice if you're going to try so eagerly …"

"You lied!" she suddenly shouts over to me, not at all in a whisper. "You lied about the runes!"

My goodness …
Why the hell are we having that conversation now? I need to de-escalate and lower her volume, so I briskly approach their table to make sure she won't include the whole hall in this little discussion of ours.

What the three of them were just talking about would be extremely interesting, though.

And as luck would have it, Leonora's thoughts are an open book for me – a glance and a pinch of legilimency reveal the last few moments to me in just a few heartbeats.

"How are you, Sully?"

With a bitter smile she raises a brow. "I never felt better, thank you – how are you?"

"His cynicism has really rubbed off," Leonora sighs as she helps herself to some of the scrambled eggs.

"Come on – I was no constant ray of sunshine ever before him," Harper groans and grabs one of the coffee pots to fill her cup. "But tell me," she adds, trying for some high spirits, "how was your party after the match?"

"It was fun." Leonora crosses her arms over her chest in mock-offence. "That's why you should've been there …"

"I wasn't in the mood, Leo –"

"I know, but you really missed out! Rouvenia and Avery kissed, in front of everyone!"

"No way," Harper whispers, shaking her head in amazement. "Really?"

Leonora nods. "They did, ask anyone."

"Speaking of the devil," Harper chuckles as Rouvenia takes a seat not with the Slytherins but directly opposite the two of them at the Ravenclaw table.

"Good morning, Ladies," she says, grabbing an apple from the table. She takes a bite for effect only and winks. "What are we talking about?"

"You," Leonora giggles.

Harper can't help it as well. "You and Avery – is it true?"

Rouvenia nods, shrugging with a grin.

"Congratulations." Harper makes a plate and a cup float over to her. "So that makes two couples to confirm it – it is possible to be happy with a Slytherin."

"Oh, Harp," Rouvenia whines at once, reaching for her hand. She squeezes it, claiming, "Tom's not doing well without you at all. If only one of you would finally open up and explain what the hell happened between you –"

"Yes, it's terrible," Leonora agrees, "by now I could really imagine anything …"

"Indeed," Rouvenia whispers, her eyes suddenly growing wide. "Oh, did he perhaps do something that … well, you know – something you didn't want? Is he pushy, has he gone too far?"

"What?" Harper asks, immediately shaking her head. "No. No, he'd never do that. Quite the opposite …"

"I'm just asking," Rouvenia meekly claims. "They all want one thing, especially without the other …"

"Without marriage," Leonora agrees. "But that's just not possible."

"Absolutely not," Rouvenia adds.

Conventions, conventions … I can't possibly interpret the look on Harper's face at these words. But remorse would sadden her pretty features differently.

"No, no," she now sighs, "I just don't know what's going on with him myself. And that's driving me crazy! Just the fact that he hasn't shown himself in the sunlight for two whole days –"

"You haven't seen him either?" Leonora asks in surprise.

"Now that you mention it," Rouvenia says, "I also haven't …"

"You haven't?" Harper shakes her head, all perplexed. "But you live in the same house!"

"I often only see him briefly in the common room," Rouvenia admits, biting her lip. "Only … the last two days … I haven't seen him at all, now that I think about it."

"Elliott was worried, too," Leonora adds. "What classes did he even have?"

Harper thinks about it for a moment, then she says, "He should've been in Herbology and Potions and –"

"Raymond! Hey!"

"No, what are you doing, Leo?" Harper hisses. "Ray hates him, he's the last person we should –"

But it's already too late. Leonora has jumped up to meet her brother at the Gryffindor table for a quick whispering chat.

Harper buries her face in her hands, groaning out loud. "No way, Rou!"

Rouvenia's already looking past her, though, watching as Leonora hurries back to them. "He wasn't there, Ray just confirmed."

"Why, wonderful!" Harper mumbles.

"You mean he's really been missing for two days already?" Rouvenia blows her last breath out her cheeks in confusion. "But then let's think about it – when was the last time we saw him? I did when the Quidditch match took place."

"Yeah." Leonora nods. "Me too, and after Harper went to Dean, he asked me about some runes."

"About runes?"

"Right, he was concerned about runes," Rouvenia confirms, "and just before that, he wanted to know what I think of when I hear seven."

"Seven? What did you say?" Harper is clearly alarmed. "The seven deadly sins?"

"I'm glad you think of them straight away as well," Rou says. "Thought there was something wrong with me …"

"Maybe there's something wrong with both of us," Harper surmises, but yet another question seems to vex her more. "Leo," she whispers, "what runes was he asking about?"

"Dagaz, Hagalaz, Eiwaz, Berkana and Nauthiz."

"And what do they represent?" Rouvenia asks.

"I said something along the lines of the inner light, transformation, magic, birth and shadows."

"What the hell is he up to," Harper mumbles, probably trying to visualise it all, to make sense of it, but what could light and shadow have in common? Transformation and birth? Her and I …

Until, in Leonora's memory, I enter the Great Hall and, in her opinion, look bloody tired – ashy skin and dark, purple circles under my eyes.

"Tom!" Harper hisses. "Don't you dare!"

"What?" I ask like a saint while Leonora just shakes her head in a daze.

"What was that?" she asks.

"Nothing," I hastily say before Harper can even bring up legilimency, "in what way do you think I lied to you, Leonora, pray tell?"

Her eyes narrow in anger while I pour myself another cup of coffee at their table.
Why isn't that slop making me feel a bit more energised already, do I have to drink litres of it now?

"You knew I was into runes before we spoke," Leonora claims with unusual suspicion on her features, "Elliott's told you before and –"

"And you believe I'd remember that?" I interrupt her and take another desperate sip of coffee. My battered system barely allows me to stand, but I can't possibly let any of it on … "Do you have the slightest idea just how much Elliott babbles throughout a normal day, unless, of course, he's mad at me like he's now? Gossip and rumours, frankly all over the place – and of all that flood of trivia some elective subject of yours is supposed to have stuck with me? Don't be ridiculous."

"Riddle, stop being so rude!" Rouvenia frowns. "You've been insufferable for days!"

I empty my coffee as if it were my elixir of life, then I say, "I've always been that way, since when am I expected to apologise for it?"

"Where have you even been?" Rouvenia just waves it off impatiently. "What have you been doing?"

"Self-discovery," I all but say so succinctly that she gets upset by merely hearing it.

"Tom, that's your fifth cup, are you somewhat thirsty?" Leonora asks, oddly glancing at me and the coffee in my hand.

I blink, I'm exasperated. "A little, Leonora. Yes."

Harper simply watches me like a stranger. I can only guess what she's making of all this …

"You don't look healthy," she finally says matter-of-factly.

"Oh, well!" I give her a mirthless smile. "Nice to hear that."

I can see in her eyes that she hardly recognises me.

"Tom," she quietly says, it's as intimate as worried, "are you all right?"

The question is so obviously redundant that it'd be almost ridiculous to answer it. So I just look at her for quite a moment, all that could have been for us crossing my mind, until I vehemently shake it off.

"Never felt better," I eventually lie, "and now excuse me, your coffee's empty …"

"Riddle, wait a minute," Rouvenia demands, lowering her voice as she catches up to me on the run again, "now that you're around for a change, listen, we'll meet for our exercises, this afternoon in the Room of –"

"No time for that," I interrupt her, walking on and calling over my shoulder, "enjoy yourselves without any sense of purpose."

"Wait!" she orders, catching up yet again. "Eric Johnson knows that we –"

"Gryffindor's Prefect?" I hiss, immediately pausing.

"Yes, exactly," she says, shrugging, "you know – clever, quick-witted, tall, funny, incredibly handsome, dark, even skin –"

"Wait, wait – I thought you fancied Avery?" I interrupt her, well confused.

She seems no less perplexed by my question. "Sure, but that doesn't make me blind, does it?"

How strange.
It makes sense. But I really only ever had eyes for Harper in a way like that because she and I were already connected on a spiritual level …

"Anyway," Rou continues in a rush, "he's heard that we're meeting and now he wants to practise with us."

"How the blazes did he hear that? Hagrid certainly didn't say a word –"

"My fault," she confesses in a mixture of defiance and concern. "I'm sorry, Tom! I always get a bit nervous when I look at him … But he really is the Slytherin of the Gryffindors, believe me, he's quite a bit like you – he doesn't think we're taught enough about the Dark Arts in class."

"So you believed it wouldn't hurt to invite a red hero?"

"I'll vouch for him if I have to," she firmly retorts.

"Yes," I hear myself growl. "You will."

And with that, I leave the Great Hall behind as quickly as I entered it.

The next few days until the rituals are completed will be a nightmare, I can feel it. A race for time and enough energy to keep up the charade until it's done for good.

I'd ask the heavens for mercy if I could – but for my endeavours, why would there be any help from above …