Huffily Puffily || Golden Trio

Survive || xli

Her eyes were closed, and although everything was foggy, she could feel her mind beginning to wake up. For a moment, she didn't know who she was and where she was at. Her limbs felt like they were filled with lead and her head felt as though someone had reached into her skull and hammered her brain from the inside... She wondered why she felt so terrible. Then it all came rushing back to her.

The staircases... something shaking... falling, lots of falling, and then... Harry. Harry! Was he okay? Had he fallen with her? Lucy felt her heart rate quicken, but her eyes wouldn't cooperate with her mind. She willed them to open, only to be met with a bright light. The white walls of the hospital wing were never the most pleasant sight to wake up to.

She tried to sit up, but a splitting pain at the side of her head nearly made her pass out again. Biting her lip, she stopped trying and instead tried to delicately turn her head to see if Harry was in any of the beds next to her.

"Don't move," a low voice warned. "You'll only make it worse."

Well, if that wasn't the most threatening thing ever. For a moment she thought the Heir had decided to kill her after all. Her worries disappeared when Tom appeared beside her. She could only see him out of the corner of her eye, but she relaxed knowing he was close by.

"Is—" her voice came out hoarse. It felt as though her vocal cords had been shredded, and each breath she took sent a stabbing pain into her side.

"Don't speak either," Tom said. She imagined he rolled his eyes at her. "You shouldn't be awake yet. That woman said she wanted you asleep until she could figure why her potions weren't working on you."

Her brow furrowed. The potions weren't working? That's why she felt so miserable...

"Not only are the potions not working, but you've managed to fracture your skull, break two of your ribs, one of which could have punctured your lung—" Tom broke off on his rant to take a deep, furious breath in. "And despite all this, I know you're about to ask me whether or not Potter is here."

"Well, yes," she managed.

He stood over her so that she could see the full effect of his glare. "I said don't speak— and he is not here, so don't bother looking. If anything, you should go back to sleep."

First she registered his glare, but then she took in the rest of his appearance. She'd gotten so used to seeing him as a slightly transparent person that his current form shocked her more than any of the injuries he'd just listed off to her. She could still make out his handsome face, but his form was... fuzzy, almost. Gray wisps fell off of him every so often, and she swore she saw him flicker once.

Now that she got a couple of words out, she could feel herself adjusting to the pain in her throat. It was bad, but the soreness in her head and ribs overshadowed it enough that she didn't care about it.

"Are you alright, Tom? You... you don't look so good."

He looked down at her incredulously. "I don't look good? You should see yourself. You look like a corpse."

She raised her eyebrows at him, silently telling him not to change the subject.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I know my form is different. There is nothing wrong with me; I have not returned to the diary for two days now. Do you know how many times that matron has left you alone, unguarded in the hospital wing? After an attempted murder, even— it's infuriating. And someone has to make sure that you don't get killed. So yes, I am a little weak looking at the moment."

She stared, for once at a loss for words. He'd exhausted himself that much, just to keep watch for her? She knew how irritating it must have been for him. Tom hated when he appeared less than human in anyway. Telling him he was a ghost or a spectre was the easiest way to piss him off for the rest of the day. Before this, whenever he felt even the slightest bit weakened, he'd retreat into the diary to regain his energy. And yet here he was nearly reverting to his indiscernible gray form