Rainbows (A Hogwarts Mystery Story)

Chapter 23

Panic. It was all I could feel, drumming hard in my chest as I dashed to the hospital wing, thoughts racing as fast as my feet. All the numbness I felt before--it was as if the Dementor had sucked out my soul already, leaving me with no hope. Was 'R' really trying to single me out as the threat, rather than the curse that the Vaults have unleashed upon the school?

Two people had already fallen victim to the horrors around the school. How many more would fall? Would I be too late by then to free everyone from these horrors?

"Miss Lin! It is not yet time for visiting hours!" Madam Pomfrey cried the minute she saw me run right into the Hospital Wing. "And what happened to your face? Goodness me..."

She quickly waved her wand over my face with an "Episkey", and I wasted no time in telling her about Barnaby's admittance into the Hospital Wing and that I wanted to see him.

"The poor boy's been through...quite an ordeal, so to speak," Madam Pomfrey told me quietly, leading me to his bed farther into the ward. "Had Cecil Lee not been close by, the boy would have been finished off completely. I'll leave you with him, dear," she eventually relented as she noticed me staring at him, eyes trailing over his sleeping form. "I'll write Professor Binns a note explaining the situation."

Of course. With this visit, I might as well risk missing out History of Magic. Not like anything interesting would happen during the lesson, though. No one ever pays attention in that class, with Binns' sleepy drone putting us all in a stupor and out of focus. I simply nodded, though, as Madam Pomfrey walked away, leaving me and Barnaby alone.

There was no one else in the hospital wing that day--the boy who succumbed to the Kiss had been sent to St. Mungo's, though everyone knew there was no chance of recovery for him. He had lost his soul. He couldn't be retrieved or called back. As I sat down in the guest chair beside Barnaby's bed, I couldn't help but wonder what I had done to deserve this--to see Barnaby lying there, as if in a coma, instead of his usual happy self. Had my numbness really spread to the rest of my friends? Were they going through the same things I did when I shut them out?

I thought I was keeping them safe.

How very wrong I was.

A thread of guilt tingled through my arm as I reached out for Barnaby's hand, which was as cold as ice. Fingers interlocked with one another, I lifted our hands and gently planted a kiss over his knuckles. The blanket covered the rest of his body, but his pale face told me he must have lost a lot of blood. I laid my fingers over his wrist--there was a slight pulse drumming, but it was weak. His eyes still remained closed the entire time, without a sign of stirring.

I slowly took the rings off his fingers, in case they cut off circulation in his state, and began to rub his hand in both of mine to regain some warmth. His ice-cold palm against my somewhat warm ones almost made me recoil in shock. How could I have done this? My cold shoulder ended up turning them into ice. And now here I was, on the brink of losing the one I love more than anything, facing nothing but a black hole in my uncertain future. I glanced down at his sleeping face, eyes glancing over his handsome features, and tears sprang to my eyes at the prospect of never seeing his emerald eyes spark with joy ever again.

As soon as I thought that, though, I heard a weak groan escape from his lips, and I glanced up to see him roll over and yawn, opening his eyes to see me sitting next to him. I expected him to pull his hand away, but instead, he just smiled, almost as if everything was still normal. "Hey, Clara."

"H-hey." I tried to smile in return, but the guilt in my chest overpowered any other relief I felt at seeing him wake.

"So, it seemed like my uncle got to you," Barnaby simply said, squeezing my hand lightly. "Not that I didn't expect him to. It's just..."