Breakdown

April 11, 1993, 3:25 PM, Hospital Wing, Hogwarts

Harry Potter

Harry awoke with a start, his eyes struggling to focus in the dim light filtering through the drawn curtains. The familiar scent of sterility told him he was in the Hospital Wing, but something felt different.

A dull, throbbing pain pulsed through his body, settling into a fierce ache behind his eyes.

He tried to piece together what had happened, but his memories were fragmented, like shards of a broken mirror.

The tournament… chaos… Sirius helping them, but forced to fight… Harry letting the others escape to duel a strange man wearing a peculiar mask. Each recollection sent a fresh wave of pain lancing through his skull.

Harry groaned softly, attempting to push himself up. His arms trembled with the effort, and he slumped back onto the pillow, frustration building in his chest. How long had he been here? Where were Ron and Hermione?

He focused on his memory again.

The last clear one he had was indeed of a duel— more of a desperate fight, really— against a masked figure who had emerged from the mayhem, seizing the sudden opportunity in an attempt to kill him.

Harry remembered the surge of power that had coursed through him. It had been exhilarating and terrifying all at once, leaving him drained and barely conscious. He hadn’t been ready, that was for certain.

However, he’d certainly been far more comfortable with using it, this time around. Adam had been right; having had some practice with this electric power, Harry had been able to direct his energies to ensure himself a victory.

If he hadn’t had any practice, Harry figured he wouldn’t be in a hospital bed, but buried in a cemetery, somewhere.

Probably with my parents.

He shook the thoughts away and strained his ears instead, hoping to catch some snippet of conversation, some clue as to what was happening beyond his secluded bed. All he heard was an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the old castle.

Harry’s hand instinctively reached for his wand, but found nothing. Panic fluttered in his chest. Where was his wand? Had it been broken?

As questions swirled in his mind, the pain in his head intensified. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing the agony to subside. He needed answers, but his body seemed intent on keeping him prisoner in this bed, shrouded in uncertainty and discomfort.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry realized he would have to wait. Wait for someone to check on him, wait for the pain to recede, wait for the fog in his mind to clear.

It was anathema to him. He felt like he was trapped in his cupboard, all over again.

Harry opened his eyes forcibly, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself down. No. He was forever out of that place.

Never again.

His gaze moved around once more, finally settling on a cup of water perched on the bedside table. Parched, he reached out with a shaky hand, grasping the cool glass.

The first sip was heavenly, the water soothing his dry throat. In his eagerness, Harry tilted the cup too far, causing water to splash onto his face and chest. The sudden cold shocked him, his fingers losing their grip. The cup slipped, tumbling to the floor with a resounding crash.

Harry winced at the noise, his heart racing. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the soft tinkle of scattered glass shards. Then, footsteps approached rapidly.

The curtain surrounding his bed was yanked open, revealing Madam Pomfrey. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight of Harry, awake and alert. The shock quickly gave way to her usual businesslike demeanor.

“Mr. Potter.” She said, her voice a mixture of relief and concern. “Do you know where you are?”

Harry nodded slowly, his voice slightly hoarse as he replied. “…The Hospital Wing.”

Madam Pomfrey’s brow furrowed as she observed him closely. “That’s correct. How are you feeling? Any pain or discomfort?”

As she spoke, she waved her wand, vanishing the broken glass and spilled water. Another flick, and a fresh glass of water appeared on the table.

Harry considered her question, taking stock of his body.

“My head hurts a bit.” He admitted. “And I feel… strange. Weak, I suppose. I can barely move.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded, her expression grave. “That’s to be expected, given what you’ve been through. Do you remember what happened?”

Harry hesitated, fragments of memories swirling in his mind.

“The tournament… there was an attack. I fought someone— a wizard in dark robes, I think. But after that…” He trailed off, frustration evident in his voice.

“It’s alright.” Madam Pomfrey assured him, her tone gentler now. “Memory loss is common after magical exhaustion. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

“Magical exhaustion? Wait—” Harry’s eyes widened at this revelation. “Three days? But what’s happened? Is everyone okay? What about—”

Madam Pomfrey held up a hand, cutting off his barrage of questions.

“One thing at a time, Mr. Potter. You need rest and recovery. I’ll inform the Headmaster that you’re awake. He’ll be able to answer your questions soon enough.”

She turned to leave, pausing at the curtain. “Try to relax, dear. You’re safe here.”

As she disappeared from view, Harry slumped back against his pillows, his mind reeling. Three days. After the event he’d just lived through, the world could have changed dramatically in that time. As he reached for the new glass of water, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever answers awaited him, they wouldn’t be the ones he wanted to hear.

Madam Pomfrey’s expression softened as she turned back to him. “Mr. Potter, I must admit, we didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. The magic you used during the attack… well, it’s an unexplained phenomenon. We’ve never seen anything quite like it before.”

Harry gave her a sour look, immediately grasping the implications.

‘Unexplained phenomenon’ doubtlessly meant he’d be stuck here longer than necessary.

“I feel fine, Madam Pomfrey. Really.” He insisted, trying to sit up straighter to prove his point.

The matron shook her head in exasperation, dismissing his protests with a wave of her hand. “Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, I’m under strict orders not to release you until your guardian approves it. We need to ensure you’re truly recovered before letting you leave.”

At the mention of his guardian, Harry perked up, his annoyance momentarily forgotten. “My guardian? You mean Sirius is still here?”

Madam Pomfrey nodded, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Yes, Mr. Black has been here. He’s been quite concerned about your condition.”

Harry’s heart leapt at the news. Sirius was here, at Hogwarts. Despite the circumstances, the thought of seeing his godfather-turned-adoptive-father filled him with a sense of relief and excitement.

“When can I see him?” Harry asked eagerly, his previous frustration giving way to anticipation.

“Soon enough.” Madam Pomfrey assured him. “For now, you need to rest. I’ll inform Mr. Black and the Headmaster that you’re awake. They’ll want to speak with you once you’ve had a chance to fully regain your bearings.”

As she turned to leave, Harry called out. “But I feel fine, really! Can’t I at least sit up properly or have some visitors?”

Madam Pomfrey paused at the curtain, her expression a mix of sympathy and firmness. “Let’s take this one step at a time, Mr. Potter. Rest now. I will consider the possibility of visitors shortly.”

With that, she disappeared behind the curtain, leaving Harry alone once more.

He slumped back against his pillows, a cocktail of emotions swirling within him— frustration at being confined, curiosity about what had happened, and eagerness to see Sirius and his friends. As he stared at the ceiling, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises awaited him.

Harry sank back into his pillows, his eyes fixed on the familiar patterns of the Hospital Wing’s ceiling.

“Three days.” He muttered, the words hanging heavy in the quiet air.

Lifting his hand, he held it above his face, studying it intently. Physically, he felt fine— no pain, no weakness. And yet, something was off. An absence he couldn’t quite pin down.

Frowning, Harry closed his eyes, trying to sense the magic within him as he’d done countless times before. He searched for that familiar warmth, that tingling energy that had always been a part of him. But where that spark should have been, he found… nothing.

Alarm surged through him, his heart rate quickening. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

“Pomfrey said I’m magically exhausted.” He reasoned aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just need to wait a while, and I’ll get better. Right?”

The question lingered, unanswered, in the still air of the Hospital Wing. Harry flexed his fingers, half-expecting— hoping— to see even the faintest glimmer of magical energy. But his hand remained stubbornly ordinary.

He tried to push away the creeping fear, the nagging worry that perhaps this wasn’t just exhaustion. What if that surge of power he’d tapped into had done more than just drain him? What if it had changed something fundamental within him?

Harry shook his head, dispelling the thought. He couldn’t afford to panic, not now. He needed answers, and for that, he needed to be clear headed. 

As he lay there, struggling to keep his concerns at bay, Harry found himself longing for his wand. Its familiar weight in his hand might offer some comfort, some tangible connection to his magic. But it was nowhere in sight, likely kept safely away until he was deemed recovered.

The silence of the Hospital Wing pressed in around him, filled with unspoken questions and growing uncertainties. Harry closed his eyes, willing himself to rest as Madam Pomfrey had instructed. But even as he tried to relax, a part of him remained alert.

Time passed and Harry continued to wallow in this heavy feeling until he lost himself in its choking embrace.

Eventually, Harry’s contemplation was interrupted by a series of familiar buzzes in his mind. A smile spread across his face as he recognized the presence of Alef, the spirit of Hogwarts.

Hey, Alef. Harry thought, and Alef buzzed happily in his mind. I’m glad to see you, too. Are you doing well?

A buzz in the positive.

Good. That’s good. Harry thought. How is Adam?

Alef gave a series of buzzes that told Harry that he didn’t really know. What’s wrong? Is he not doing well?

Alef gave a few buzzes of denial, and Harry breathed a little easier, at that.

The thought of Adam brought a mix of emotions. Harry’s brow furrowed as he considered his enigmatic friend and brother. Adam’s abilities had always been impressive, but lately, they seemed to border on the impossible. Fluent in French, apparently just as knowledgeable in Arabic, and excelling in nearly everything except wandless magic, social skills and dancing.

And even then, he’s beginning to acquit himself well in those categories…

“A prodigy.” Harry murmured to himself, shaking his head slightly. “But this is getting ridiculous.”

He focused on Alef’s presence, grateful for the distraction from his current predicament. The spirit’s vast knowledge had been a valuable resource and a comforting presence over the past year. Now, confined to his hospital bed and cut off from his own magic, Harry found himself especially appreciative of the connection.

Alef. Harry thought, directing his gratitude towards the presence. It really is good to hear from you.

As he felt Alef’s wave of happiness wash over him, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if Alef might have insights into his current condition. After all, if anyone understood the intricacies of magic within Hogwarts, it would be the spirit of the castle itself.

Harry’s attention was drawn to movement beyond the curtain, though no sound accompanied it. He squinted, trying to discern what was happening, but couldn’t even see the telltale shimmer of a silencing charm. The absence of the magical auras which had become familiar to him only reinforced his current powerlessness.

No wonder he felt so blind.

Alef’s presence in his mind intensified, radiating feelings of calm and reassurance. Grateful for the spirit’s support, Harry mentally voiced his deepest fear. Have I lost my powers, Alef?

The spirit’s response came as two distinct buzzes— a clear negative. Harry nodded to himself, exhaling a deep sigh of relief. He trusted Alef without question, so he could at least put that uncertainty to rest.

The curtain suddenly parted, revealing a visibly disgruntled Madam Pomfrey. She stepped aside, allowing Ron and Hermione to rush in. Their worried expressions instantly transformed into beaming smiles at the sight of Harry awake and alert.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and lingering concern.

Ron grinned broadly, and he was about to say something when Pomphrey cleared her throat.

“Remember my rules.” Pomfrey said, and the two froze for a few moments before turning to her and nodding sheepishly. “Break them and you will not see your friend until he’s released. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Madam Pomphrey.” Ron and Hermione said in a subdued tone. Satisfied, she turned and left the three alone.

As his friends approached his bedside, Harry felt a surge of warmth that had nothing to do with magic. Their presence alone seemed to chase away some of the lingering doubts and fears that had been plaguing him.

“Ron, Hermione.” Harry said, his voice still hoarse from disuse. “It’s so good to see you both.”

“Good to see you too, mate.” Ron smiled, though Harry could see the worry behind his eyes. “They said it’d be days before you even woke up.”

“I guess I bounced back quickly.” Harry said, and quickly changed the subject. He didn’t need to speak of his condition. “What’s been happening? Is everyone alright?”

He tried to sit up straighter, eager for news and reassurance. As Hermione perched on the edge of his bed and Ron pulled up a chair, Harry couldn’t help but notice the way they exchanged a quick, meaningful glance.

Harry watched as Ron and Hermione’s expressions shifted, their initial joy at seeing him awake giving way to a more somber demeanor. His heart sank, knowing that the news he was about to hear wouldn’t be entirely positive.

“Well…” Ron began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “Professor Dumbledore and the other schools managed to fight off most of the attack. It could’ve been a lot worse, really.”

Hermione nodded, adding. “But… there were injuries, Harry. Quite a few people got hurt.”

Harry’s grip on his bed sheet tightened. “Who? How bad?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged another glance before Hermione continued.

“Tony and Su were among those injured. It’s not too severe.” She quickly added, seeing the alarm on Harry’s face. “They’re expected to make a full recovery in another day or so.”

“Where are they?” Harry said, looking to his right and left. “In here?”

“They’ve been released already.” Ron said. “A few nights’ rest and they should be fine— or so Su told me…”

“Good. That’s good…” Harry said, and pressed for more information. “And Adam? Sirius?”

Ron cleared his throat.

“Sirius is okay. He’s been here a lot, actually. Worried sick about you, mate. As for Adam…” He trailed off, looking to Hermione.

“Adam’s… well, he’s fine.” Hermione said carefully. “But there’s been some complications. We don’t know all the details yet.”

Harry felt a chill run through him at her words. “What kind of complications? What happened to him?”

“We’re not entirely sure, but it’s nothing physical.” Hermione admitted. “There’s been a lot of secrecy around what happened with him.”

Harry tried to process this information, his mind racing. The attack had clearly been more severe than he’d initially thought. And Adam… what could have happened to warrant such secrecy?

“What about everyone else?” Harry asked, trying to get a fuller picture of the situation. “The other schools? The attack?”

Ron sighed.

“It’s been chaos, mate. The Ministry’s in uproar, trying to coordinate with other magical governments. Hogsmeade took some damage, but most of the people there are okay— I think Adam was there. As for the other schools…” He glanced at Hermione, clearly uncomfortable.

“Longling and Castelobruxo.” Hermione said quietly. “They… they sided with Grindelwald, Harry. It’s caused a massive diplomatic crisis.”

They what?

Harry leaned back, overwhelmed by the flood of information. The world had changed dramatically in the three days he’d been unconscious, and he was struggling to catch up.

“Adam, he’s—”

“No, Ron.”

“Adam’s what?”

Hermione shook her head. “Can’t you see he’s overwhelmed? Madam Pomphrey said to not do anything that worries him!”

“He deserves to know.” Ron said.

“Know what?” Harry said, his anger rising as he sent a glare Hermione’s way.

Hermione sighed and shook her head in resignation. “Fine. Adam’s attending a hearing of some kind right now.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. “What? A hearing? Why?”

Hermione shot Ron a reproachful look before turning to Harry with a grave expression. She took a deep breath and said, her voice trembling slightly. “Harry… during the attack, Adam… he killed at least fifteen wizards and witches.”

Harry felt as if he’d been doused in ice water.

“Fifteen?” He repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

Ron, seemingly eager to balance the shocking news, quickly added. “But he also saved a bunch of people in Hogsmeade! And he stopped Castelobruxo from nicking creatures from the Forbidden Forest. It’s not all bad, mate.”

Harry swallowed hard, struggling to process this information. His mind reeled. The boy had killed a few people in the attack at Village Du Phantasime, but this was far beyond that.

Noticing Harry’s distress, Ron grabbed a nearby cup and thrust it towards him. “Here, have some water. There’s a lot more to go through, honestly.”

Harry accepted the cup with a shaky hand, taking a long sip. The cool water did little to calm the storm of emotions brewing inside him, but it gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Alright.” He said finally, lowering the cup and looking between his friends. “Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, clearly preparing themselves for a long and difficult conversation. Harry steeled himself, knowing that what he was about to hear would likely change his understanding of everything.

As Hermione began to speak, Harry listened intently, acutely aware that each piece of information was crucial to understanding the new reality he had awakened to— one in which his friend was now facing serious consequences for actions taken in the heat of battle.

Harry listened intently as Ron and Hermione filled in the gaps in his knowledge. The scale of Grindelwald’s attack was far greater than he had initially realized.

“So Grindelwald didn’t just attack the tournament.” Harry said slowly, trying to piece it all together. “He hit Diagon Alley, Godric’s Hollow, Hogsmeade, and even the Ministry? All at once?”

Ron nodded grimly. “Yeah, but keep that last bit quiet, alright? Dad told me about the Ministry, it’s not exactly public knowledge yet. I’m not sure it ever will be, if they had their way.”

Harry’s mind reeled at the scope of the assault. It seemed impossible that anyone could coordinate such a widespread attack. He attempted a weak joke. “Is that all then?”

The subdued looks on Ron and Hermione’s faces made his stomach drop. His attempt at levity fell flat as he realized there was more to come.

“There’s more?” Harry asked incredulously, his voice a mix of disbelief and trepidation.

Hermione bit her lip, exchanging a worried glance with Ron before turning back to Harry. “Yes, there’s… quite a bit more, actually.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Mate, what we’ve told you so far? That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

Harry’s grip on his water cup tightened. He’d thought the simultaneous attacks on multiple locations were shocking enough, but clearly, there were even more revelations to come. The gravity in his friends’ expressions told him that whatever they were about to share would be even more difficult to hear.

Taking a deep breath, Harry steeled himself.

“Alright, then.” He said, his voice steadier than he felt. “What else?”

“Something terrible’s happened in America.” Ron said.

“Something terrible?” Harry parrotted. “Ilvermorny?”

Hermione shook her head, her expression troubled. “We don’t know for certain. No one’s sharing much information.”

“Yeah.” Ron added, his voice low. “Even Dad doesn’t know much either, but he reckons it’s connected to that… that wave of power that hit us.”

Harry’s confusion was evident. “Wave of power? What are you talking about?”

Ron leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Right, you were already out cold by then. It happened around midnight. This… this surge of something. It shook everything, mate. Everywhere.”

“It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced.” Hermione chimed in, a shudder running through her as she recalled the event. “It felt like a wave of pure power, but it was… wrong somehow. Full of despair and darkness.”

Harry struggled to imagine what his friends were describing. A wave of power strong enough to be felt globally, yet somehow connected to events in the United States? It seemed impossible, yet the grave expressions on Ron and Hermione’s faces told him they weren’t exaggerating.

“But what could cause something like that?” Harry asked, his mind racing with possibilities. “And how is it connected to what happened here? To Grindelwald’s attack?”

Hermione shook her head. “That’s just it, Harry. Nobody seems to know for sure. There are all sorts of rumors flying around, but nothing concrete.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “It’s got everyone on edge, though. The teachers, the Ministry… even the ghosts seem spooked.”

Harry sat back, trying to absorb this new information. The attack on Hogwarts and other magical locations in Britain had been bad enough, but this mysterious event added a whole new level of complexity and danger to the situation.

“And Adam?” Harry asked, remembering the disciplinary hearing. “How does he fit into all of this?”

“I don’t think he does?” Ron said, though he didn’t sound sure.

The uneasy glance Ron and Hermione shared didn’t help at all.

oooo

Same time, Quidditch Pitch

Adam Clarke

I stepped out of the command tent, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. Though it was much faded, the air still carried the scent of scorched earth and lingering magic— reminders of the battle that had raged just days ago. Sirius and Remus flanked me, their presence both comforting and stifling.

The hearing had been… intense. Hours of questioning, accusations, and debates about the nature of my actions during the attack. My mind was still reeling from it all, fragments of the proceedings echoing in my head.

“You did what you had to do, kid.” Sirius murmured, his hand resting on my shoulder. I could hear the mix of pride and concern in his voice, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Not yet.

Remus cleared his throat. “The committee will need time to deliberate. We should get you something to eat in the meantime.”

I nodded absently, my thoughts elsewhere. Twenty-two lives. That’s what it had come down to. Twenty-two lives taken by my hand in the chaos of battle. It had been necessary, I told myself. To protect others, to stop Grindelwald’s forces. But the weight of those actions sat heavy on my chest.

As we walked across the grounds, I could feel the stares of students and staff alike. News traveled fast at Hogwarts, and everyone seemed to know about my role in the battle. Some looked at me with awe, others with fear. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Adam.” Remus said gently, pulling me from my thoughts. “Are you alright?”

I wanted to laugh at the question. Alright? After everything that had happened? But I knew Remus meant well.

“I’m fine.” I lied, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “Just… processing.”

As we approached the castle, I couldn’t help but wonder about Harry. Was he awake yet? Did he know what I’d done? What would he think of me now?

He’d seen me kill people before, but this felt different, somehow. I hadn’t felt anything about killing them, this time. My emotions had been muted. Had I gotten used to taking another person’s life?

The future stretched out before me, uncertain. But for now, I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, steeling myself for whatever consequences awaited me.

As we walked, I suddenly felt a familiar tug at the edge of my consciousness. Absol was calling to me from the forest. The pull grew stronger, insistent.

I reached out through our connection, silently questioning her. Her response was cryptic: nothing that couldn’t wait until nighttime, but I should bring Harry. Frowning, I turned my gaze towards the dense treeline of the Forbidden Forest.

“Adam?” Sirius’s voice broke through my concentration. “Why’d you stop?”

Remus was looking at me with concern, his brow furrowed.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside.

“It’s nothing.” I lied, falling back into step with them. “Just thought I heard something.”

As we continued towards the castle, Sirius attempted to lighten the mood.

“Well, one good thing came out of all this mess.” He said, his tone forcefully cheerful. “No finals for you or Harry this year.”

I hummed noncommittally in response. The thought of exams seemed trivial compared to everything else that had happened.

We entered the Great Hall for a quick meal. The space was filled with students from various schools, but the atmosphere was far from the usual bustling energy. A somber cloud hung over everyone, conversations muted and faces drawn.

As we found seats, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling about Absol’s message. What could be so important that it required both Harry and I, yet could wait until nightfall? And how was I supposed to sneak us out after everything that had happened?

As far as I knew, Harry was bedridden…

I picked at my food, my appetite diminished by the weight of recent events and the mystery presented by Absol. Around me, the subdued chatter of the Hall seemed to fade into the background as my mind raced with possibilities and plans.

Glancing towards the exit of the Great Hall, I wondered if Harry was awake yet, and how I would explain everything to him. The thought of facing my friend after what I’d done sent a fresh wave of anxiety through me.

But if Absol needed both of us, I’d have to figure something out.

As I sat there, surrounded by the gloomy atmosphere of the Great Hall, I couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the battles we’d already faced, something even more significant was looming on the horizon.

I was lost in thought when a commotion behind me caught my attention. Turning, I saw Akio and Hien approaching, their faces kept cool, though I could see the hesitation in their soul threads.

“Adam-san.” Hien began, and the two bowed. “Could we have a word?”

“Of course.”

Sirius acknowledged them with a nod. “How are you two holding up?”

They both bowed slightly, a gesture of respect I’d come to associate with Mahoutokoro students.

“We have some lingering injuries.” Hien replied. “But we’re nearly healed. However, that’s not why we’re here.”

My curiosity piqued, I gave them my full attention.

Hien continued. “Our Headmistress has just announced our departure in two days. She was hoping you would join her, and us for a meal before we leave.”

My eyes widened in surprise. A meal? With everything that had happened, the idea seemed almost… normal. Surreal, even.

Hien caught my expression and looked slightly incredulous. “Is it so ridiculous to want to share a meal with a friend made through the fires of battle?”

Beside him, Akio nodded, though I noticed a slight discomfort in his posture. I recognized it immediately— the awkwardness of social interactions that I often felt myself.

After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded. “When did you have in mind?”

“Tomorrow.” They said in unison.

“At lunch.” Akio added. “My grandfather will also be attending.”

“…Alright.” I agreed, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll be there.”

“Until then.”

With that, the two gave another bow and departed, leaving me to ponder this unexpected development. As I watched them go, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something…

I turned back to my meal, aware of Sirius and Remus watching me with a mixture of surprise and approval. This lunch tomorrow— it was a reminder that despite everything, life went on. Friendships formed, even in the most unlikely circumstances.

As I picked at my food, my mind juggled multiple thoughts: the impending decision from the disciplinary committee, Absol’s mysterious summons, and now this lunch with Akio and Hien. Each seemed to pull me in a different direction, a reminder of the complex web of responsibilities and relationships I’d found myself in.

I glanced around the Great Hall once more, wondering how many more surprises this day would bring, and how I would manage to navigate them all.

As the realization hit me, a wave of overwhelming anxiety crashed over me. My chest tightened, making each breath a struggle. The noise of the Great Hall suddenly became unbearable, every clatter of cutlery and murmur of conversation amplified to a deafening roar. My vision narrowed, the edges blurring as if I were looking through a tunnel.

I stood abruptly, my legs feeling weak and unsteady.

“I need to go.” I managed to say, my voice sounding distant and foreign to my own ears.

Sirius and Remus made to follow, concern etched on their faces, but I held up a hand. “It’s okay. I just… I need to be alone.”

They hesitated, clearly wanting to protest. But something in my expression— the wild, desperate look in my eyes perhaps— made Sirius pause. With a quick nod, I turned and fled the Great Hall, leaving my barely touched meal behind.

My feet carried me swiftly through the castle corridors, my heart pounding in my chest. Students and teachers alike blurred past me, their curious glances barely registering in my panicked state. I had one destination in mind— the only place I thought I could find true solitude.

I reached the portrait of Adelbertolomew, gasping for breath. The painted figure looked up from his work, his eyes meeting mine. Without a word, he gave me a somber nod and swung open, revealing the secret passage.

“I won’t open for anyone unless it’s urgent.” He said quietly.

His understanding nearly broke my composure then and there. I bit back a sob, managing a strangled “Thank you” as I stumbled into the passage.

The familiar path to the Whispering Grove seemed endless. By the time I reached the idyllic spot, my chest was heaving, sweat beading on my forehead. I collapsed onto the bench, finally allowing the full force of the anxiety attack to wash over me.

My body trembled uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air, each breath feeling insufficient. My mind raced, replaying the events of the past few days in a chaotic jumble— the battle, the lives I’d taken, the hearing, the uncertain future that lay ahead.

The weight of it all crashed down on me here in this peaceful grove.

The contrast between the serenity of my surroundings and the turmoil within me only heightened the intensity of my emotions. I hugged myself tightly, rocking back and forth as I tried to weather the storm of anxiety that had finally broken through my carefully maintained composure.

In this moment, I wasn’t the prodigy who had faced down dark wizards. I was just a scared, overwhelmed fool, grappling with the enormity of recent events and the heavy consequences of my actions. As the attack peaked, I let out a choked sob, allowing myself, for the first time since the battle, to truly feel the full extent of my fear, guilt, and uncertainty.

As I struggled to regain control, I sensed a presence nearby. Looking up through tear-blurred vision, I recognized the silvery form of Helena Ravenclaw. Immediately, I tried to compose myself, ashamed of being seen in such a vulnerable state.

“I’m sorry… I want to be alone right now.” I managed to say, my voice hoarse and shaky.

Helena, however, didn’t leave. Instead, she glided closer, settling beside me on the bench. I tensed, unsure of what to expect.

Then, to my surprise, I felt her arms wrap around me. There was a deep warmth to her embrace, and an intoxicating scent that reminded me of old books and lavender. The gentleness of her gesture, so unexpected and yet so needed, broke through the last of my defenses.

I collapsed into her embrace, my body wracked with sobs. All the pent-up emotions— the fear, the guilt, the overwhelming pressure— came pouring out. Through it all, Helena remained a steady presence, her arms around me, grounding me in the moment.

She said nothing beyond a soft, repeated phrase. “I’m here.”

Those simple words, coupled with her unwavering presence, were more comforting than any lengthy speech could have been. In that moment, I didn’t need advice or reassurances about the future. I just needed someone to be there, to witness my pain without judgment.

“Thank you…”