There was something about pain, something about the fact of existing in a state of pure and excruciating sensation that clarified the mind. It drove everything away from him, drove away thoughts of Harry and Draco, drove away worries about the Orange Madness, and all that he wanted was for it to end. Only this time, he wasn't entirely toothless. He took that agony, focused on it, channeled his backbone of will, and slammed down his incipient Occlumency shield. It was not powerful, it was not practiced (not nearly enough), but he felt a moment of emptiness, and when he was aware of the rest of his senses, he saw Alphie staring at him, mouth gaping open.

Alphie's mouth snapped shut, his face turning a dull red, angry and confused about why his sadistic pleasure had been interrupted. The other boy lifted his wand, ready to inflict pain once again, and there was no time to think, only act. He focused his mind and (no, not the common room - Harry and Draco were in the common room) appeared in yet another corridor, another stretch of unending grey stone.

What should he do? He couldn't spend his time running, as much as he wished to avoid being dream-tortured. His friends' - brothers' - lives were on the line. He had to stop Hoyt and the other two, to somehow eject them from his mind. The only question was, how?

But it could wait. He had to first make sure that Hoyt and the others wouldn't reach the common room, and if he had to use himself as bait, then so be it. Merlin, that was a horrifyingly Gryffindor-ish thought. He was spending far too much time with lions, and it was likely doing no favours for his life expectancy. His steps faltered, as his Slytherin good sense came back to him, and he realized he needed to think.

What could he do? He could change his surroundings. But from what he could remember, Hoyt could influence the surroundings as well, though he had doubts about Alphie's abilities. He had tried attacking the fifth years before, and it had been ineffective, but his mind was stronger now. Was there a way to hurt them?

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand, and casting a stunning spell. His wrist movement and incantation were perfect, and the spell came out looking exactly as it should have, and yet something felt wrong. His spell felt like the walls around him did, like an illusion. Why could the fifth years cast spells on him, while he couldn't cast spells on them? He felt like he was failing to see something, like some part of the puzzle was missing. If only he had magic sight. If only he could see what he was doing, so that he knew what to correct.

To his amazement, he felt something; something that differed from the stupefy he had tried to cast. Whatever it was, it felt far more real than anything else had so far. He looked down at his arms, and though he couldn't see his magic, he could feel it, moving in the patterns that he was familiar with. It seeped through his muscles, ran through his bloodstream, arced and leapt across his skin.

His eyes firming in concentration, he cast another stunning spell, but it was as worthless as the first, a stream of pretty lights and nothing more. He focused his mind, pushing away his frustration, paying no heed to his surroundings, and instead just letting himself sense his own magic. It was so close, just waiting for him to call upon it, and as he said another stupefy, he felt it moving through him, from his solar plexus, up his shoulder, to his wand arm, and then out. He blinked. The stunning spell certainly looked the same, but he knew without doubt that it was different - that it would work.

But he couldn't dawdle. He would have to practice casting spells in this dreamlike way, while trying to find Hoyt and her lot. He thought the layout of these hallways would be similar to the actual dungeons, the dream using reality as its basis. However, he soon learned that he was wrong, that familiar markers didn't lead him where he wanted to go, that some stretches of hallways were bizarrely long, with doors that opened to places they shouldn't.

He thought of Harry and Draco, neither of them even knowing anything about this situation because he hadn't explained that this was a construct in their heads, that the price of failing to reconcile meant death (because despite telling Draco, it was evident that he hadn't taken Callidus seriously at all). They weren't even speaking to one another when he had left. And what if Hoyt had already found them? He felt sick and cold, cold down to the marrow of his bones, and the corridor wavered and darkened into grey-black to reflect his fears, the torches barely emitting light, the space more ominous than ever. What was he supposed to do when this place followed no rhyme or reason, except -

Except this place reflected his mind, didn't it? Well, his mind, Harry's mind, Draco's mind, and possibly the fifth years minds as well. He once again tried to force calmness upon himself, tried to remember that berating himself for his own weakness solved nothing (but self recriminations were so satisfying in that curious way). Taking a steadying breath, he sunk his consciousness down into his magic, and when he could feel every bit of it, feel it inside and outside of himself, he changed the direction of his thoughts, aiming them towards Hoyt. He knew that she had cast a spell to link their consciousness through this dream state - if he could find anyone, it would be her.

At first, it was difficult to sense anything beyond this corridor (and the newfound awareness that there was nothing beyond it, until his mind created something). But then his mind stretched further outwards, and it turned out that something existed beyond this corridor after all because, as he had just been thinking, it wasn't only his mind alone that created this dreamscape. He thought that he could identify Harry and Draco, though the pair of them felt like an interwoven tangle of magic, but he had seen their magic before, and more than that, he felt a connection to them, a bond.

He did not dare to go to them, not yet, though the temptation to make sure that they were all right tugged at him relentlessly as a series of increasingly worse 'what ifs.' Some corner of his awareness attached itself to their bond, needing that degree of closeness, at least. It was time to stretch his mind towards finding Hoyt. Only, he hadn't considered that his choice might be taken out of his hands.

He was stepping forward cautiously, wand ready, when he felt Harry's and Draco's magic flare, a sensation that pickled along the bond like the press of hot needles almost, but not quite, breaking skin. His instincts, already primed to anticipate danger, shrilled in alarm, jolting his heart into a wild gallop. He didn't stop to think. Concentrating on his friends, he casted away all other thoughts, letting his will direct his magic.

"I said I'm sorry," he heard Harry say, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the Slytherin common room, though the walls had closed in around his friends so that the expanse of space was about a quarter of its original size, with only one set of furniture. The fireplace looked disproportionately large, swallowing up the length of one wall. The green lantern pulsed with vivid light, flickering like a flame.

"Sorry? You think a piddling apology is enough, after what you've done?" Draco's spat out, eyes flashing like mercury pools.

"What else do you want?!" Harry cried. "I've said that you're my best friend, and brother. I've apologized. Should I fall on my knees and beg?" It was then that Harry finally noticed Callidus. "Cal! Maybe you can help Draco to understand -"

Draco swept him a brief glance, before his eyes returned to boring holes into Harry's head. "What would he know? In fact, what did he know? Did you tell him about your pranks, while leaving me out? Did you confide in him behind my back?!"

"I didn't know anything!" Callidus broke in, interrupted from surveying the surroundings.

Where was the danger? Except -

Callidus's eyes widened. No. No! If his friends continued to tear at each other's throats, if they deepened the feelings of betrayal, it would be a greater threat than anything that Hoyt could manage. After all, Hoyt had no intention of killing him ('just torture,' his mind wryly supplied). He took a step forward to place himself between Harry and Draco, when he felt a sudden chill at the back of his neck, slithering down his spine.

"I knew you'd lead me to them," said a feminine voice, slimy with self-satisfaction. " Disgusting how you'd protect a group of Gryffindors in our dungeons." He whipped around, his wand aimed at the center of Hoyt's chest.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, letting his magic course free. This was no time for explanations, no time to draw out with a battle of wits. He heard Harry saying: "Cal? What's going on? Who're you trying to stun?"

Hoyt's eyes widened, not anticipating the attack, but just because her own dueling instincts were rusted, the same couldn't be said for Randle. Her dark-skinned friend shoved her aside, and the beam of the spell flew over them both, uselessly dissipating against the wall.

"Stu -" before he could complete the intonation, Drefen's wand was already pointed at Callidus, and a split second later, his nerve endings were being incinerated by a conflagration of pain. His muscles seized up, and he fell to his knees, unable to stand. He heard his name being called, recognized the voices of Harry and Draco, but as near as they were, they may as well have been on the other side of the planet. Somehow, the pain intensified, ripping a scream from his throat, as Hoyt and Randle merged their magic with Drefen's. The only thing that could save him, that could make him of any used to his friends, was the strength of his own mind.

But Hoyt wasn't Alphie, and even as he tried to collect himself, he could tell that he was against a force far more in control, far more disciplined the Alphie could hope to be. As Callidus gained ever more control of his mind, he was able to distance himself from the pain, able to finally think. The fact that Hoyt and her lot had been able to walk into his dreams for months without him remembering nettled his pride. That part of him wanted nothing more then to finally defeat her, to stand victorious. But he recognized that now wasn't the time; not when Harry and Draco were depending on him. As with Alphie, he attempted to bring down the full force of his emergent Occlumency shields, dislodging Randle and Drefen, but Hoyt's magic overpowered him, sharp and quick as the lash of a whip. The pain raced up and down his spine, radiating out to his limbs, but being able to eject Randle and Drefen had given him hope, and he gave his shields yet another push.

"You don't stand a chance against me," Hoyt snapped. Harry and Draco we're still calling his name, still trying to make sense of what was happening. 'At least they stopped fighting,' he thought. 'this pain is good for something.' But then, he felt a familiar hot prickle along the length of the bond and over his body, before his chest exploded in glass shards of pain - pain that had nothing to do with Hoyt's magic. He heard Harry and Draco cry out, felt their hands fall away from him and knew that they felt it too. His eyes widened in horror. Was it too late?

A fraction of the pain stopped, and he blinked, wondering if his attempts at Occlumency had worked. His chest still continued to sting, each movement making him feel like broken bits of metal were abrading his insides.

"It's a relief, isn't it?" Hoyt murmured. "It's nice to have a moment to breathe after being in pain. But you know -"

The pain in his chest amplified to terrifying proportions, but it was Harry's and Draco's screams the frightened him the most.

"What's wrong with you?" Hoyt said scornfully. "Aftershocks? Heh, maybe my magic is even stronger than I thought. But you know, I'll go easy on you if you reveal your traitor friends. I've always wanted to bring down a lion."

The 'never' was on the tip of his tongue; the urge to protect Harry and Draco was the only thing guiding him the only directive in his agony-addled mind, the only thing that felt right and good (though since when did he care about right and good?) Until something in Hoyt's words clued him in. She still believed that he was harbouring Gryffindors? What would she do when faced with Harry or Draco? Faced with Slytherins who had power and influence?

Under any other circumstances, the risk would have been too great. If he had an opportunity to think, he wouldn't have wanted to expose his friends to Hoyt's method of torture, knowing that she could easily get away with it merely by making her victims forget. But there was no opportunity to think, not when Harry and Draco were whimpering and panting from the pain, not when both of them were already crumbling, already falling.

But how was he supposed to do this? How did Hoyt connect Drefen's and Randle's mind to his dreams?

"Well?" Hoyt demanded.

"G-give me a moment," Callidus rasped. This time, instead of using Occlumency to force someone out, he used it on himself in an attempt to compartmentalize his pain. He then focused on stretching his magical awareness. With Harry and Draco next to him, their presences felt vibrant and alive, though agitated. But he was finally able to feel Hoyt as well, foreign and malevolent, reflecting her cruel intentions. There were other strands of magic that linked them all: the Slytherin common room, for one, which enabled them to share a single dreamscape. Somehow, he would have to tie his own strands between his friends - brothers - to Hoyt.

It was a difficult endeavour. He was too much of a neophyte to the art of Occlumency, and in the end, it was necessary to drop his protections to channel enough of his magic so that Harry, Draco, and Hoyt could be linked. But something occurred to him then. He couldn't let Hoyt see his friends while they were on the floor, writhing in pain. But then again, he couldn't speak to them either, not without Hoyt hearing everything he was saying.

What came next was nothing he planned, but rather, a spontaneous thought that had burst into his mind. It was the sort of thought that Gryffindor might listen to, while a Slytherin would carefully consider it, weighing out all the advantages and disadvantages before acting. But time was running out, and lives were on the line, and so he sent Harry and Draco his own magic, willing protection and healing into every loop and arc of it. Though it took a while, and though he couldn't answer their questions of: "What's going on? What's happening?" they still sat up, looking pale, but not looking hopelessly exposed, hopelessly weakened. With a final thrust of effort, he linked Harry's and Draco's magic to Hoyt's.

The fifth years aimed their wands at the younger Slytherins as soon as they appeared, but their eyes widened in horror when they realized their targets.

"This is bad," Drefen hissed, just as Draco snapped out (thankfully in his usual imperious tone): "What is the meaning of this?"

"Ros, do something," Randle said through clenched teeth.

Hoyt shook her head. "I - I -"

"Just wait until my father finds out about this," Draco continued, offended by the way that the fifth year's wands were trained upon them.

"We need to get out of here," Randle said. "Ros. Ros! It's your magic - make them forget!"

Hoyt blinked, slowly coming back to her senses. "Right. Right."

"What are you going on about?" Draco squawked. But Hoyt was already pursing her lips, eyes squinted in concentration. And then -

"What's going on?" Harry asked yet again. "I keep - ow -" he clutched at his chest, "why does it hurt so much?"

"I'm just relieved the two of you are finally talking," Callidus answered. "I thought you would never leave the dorm, and speak to each other." He furrowed his brow, feeling like there was something that he was forgetting, when something flared in his memory, and he gasped. "Alphie - one of the fifth years - he still running around out there."

Harry turned to him, startled. "What?"

"There's no time!" Callidus exclaimed. "I meant to tell you earlier, except you wouldn't stop quarreling. Whatever is between you, whatever breach, you must mend it. If not, both of you will die, all of us die."

"Die?" Harry echoed.

"Are you serious?" Draco asked.

"Yes! What do you think this pain in our chests is? You were the one to tell us about the brotherhood bond, Draco. You, of all people should remember what happens when one brother betrays another."

Draco's eyes grew wide, his eyes slowly sliding towards Harry.

Harry looked from Draco to Callidus. "Wait - betrays?" His attention returned back to Draco. "You feel - betrayed?"

Draco pursed his lips together, gray eyes flickering with hurt. He looked as though he wanted to deny the words, but couldn't, and so instead dared to say nothing.

"Oh Merlin," Harry moaned. "I'm so sorry - I didn't realize - I swear, if I knew -"

Draco's throat bobbed as he swallowed, not looking away from Harry for a single moment.

"Is there a way - that is - could I make it up to you somehow?" Harry entreated. "Please? I -" his voice broke, "I don't want to think that I've ruined everything. You - you and Callidus are the most important people to me."

Draco's gaze strayed away, the press of his lips and the tension around his eyes evincing his deep contemplation. Callidus felt the sharpness in his chest begin to ease, and he held his breath, hopeful that everything would work out. But before Draco could speak, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Found you!" came a sing-song voice, from someone who didn't always seem entirely sane. Callidus pulled out his wand, and spun to meet Alphie. He wondered why Alphie was here while Hoyt and her lot weren't, but now wasn't the time to puzzle it out. Alphie let out a cry, and Callidus felt a wave of magic, like a gust of wind against his skin. But already, his Occlumency shields were in place, and the magic was easily deflected.

"Not fair!" Alphie whinged. "You should be screaming! You should be on the floor moaning in pain!" He threw another spell, and this one was just as ineffective as the first. Callidus let out a low laugh.

"You think you can just torture me for months, and get away with it?" Callidus said, his anger rippling beneath his skin, cold and pinned upon the other boy.

"Who are you speaking to, Cal?" Harry asked.

Callidus glanced back towards the other two. "Fix what's between you. Don't worry about me. There's something I have to take care of."

"How would you like to taste some torment of your own?" Callidus asked, letting his words pour out in a silken stream. "How would you like to feel what I felt?" Amassing his magic, he sent it forth through his wand towards the other boy, and Alphie cried out. Yet, the spell flickered out, with no more than a sting. Furious, Callidus tried again, but the effect was the same. Concentrating harder this time, he sent forth his magic, but this time, there was a strange undulating distortion, a hard jerk in his mind, and he found himself someplace new, someplace on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry and Draco were gone, but Alphie stood in front of him, blinking and confused. At Alphie's feet were the corpses of several small animals, among them rats, cats and birds, dismembered in some cases, disemboweled in others. It took several moments for Callidus to realize that he was no longer within his own dreamscape.

"It appears that your mind is just as vile a place as you are, Alphie." He spoke the other boy's name with soft derision.

"This is my - what? How did you get here?"

Callidus sneered. "Of course, it would be too much to expect that you could be articulate. But those animals at your feet probably contain more working brain cells than you do."

Alphie did not bother to reply, but instead attempted to cast a spell at Callidus. It was a useless effort. He stared down at his wand, eyes bulging as if unable to believe that his magic could fail him.

Callidus took a step forward. "I can see why torture would have its appeal. I'd like nothing more than to spend all night paying back the suffering you inflicted on me." He felt a twinge in his chest, Harry and Draco's faces appearing in his mind. "But fortunately for you, I have more important things to attend to than to make you sing with agony. Instead, I'm going to make sure that you never hurt anyone ever again."

Callidus couldn't exactly explain what he did next. It came as a flash of inspiration, based on the disparate things that he had read about, and in truth, he didn't even know what the end result would be. All he knew was that Alphie was a threat, that Hoyt had taught him her magic, and unlike Hoyt, Alphie didn't actually have any self-control. Alphie was like a rabid dog. The only recourse, the only way to protect his friends from this wretched boy, was to corral him.

Channeling his magic, he let the trees of the forest spring up around him, growing in a way that was unnatural in real life so that their trunks formed an impenetrable wall, and their branches an impenetrable ceiling. It was a living cage, woven from his own magic merging with Alphie's in an inseparable lattice.

"What are you doing?" Alphie demanded, but Callidus only smirked.

"Sleep well, Alphie," he said, ready to pull out of the other boy's mind. Unfortunately, he misjudged, and Alphie would not let himself be so easily defeated without a fight. Just as he felt himself slipping out of Alphie's mind, he was pulled back in again with a rough yank, falling against the forest floor in a rough tumble. Callidus winced, before turning to sprawl out on his back. He realized that his entire body was aching, weak from the earlier tortures, and weak from the punishment of the brotherhood bond. Not only that, but he had sent his magic towards Harry and Draco to strengthen them. But wait, why had he done that? He pressed his fingers the bridge of his nose, frustrated by the memories that kept flitting away from him.

"What did you do to me?" Alphie's cried. "Let me out of this place! I won't let you go, until you let me go."

Callidus laughed, a humourless and bitter sound. He didn't bother to look at Alphie, staring up at the branches instead. "I think not." He was so tired, just has he had been in the past month due to his sleep deprivation. His magic laid low against his skin, drained from this night's efforts.

"Magic isn't the only way you can hurt a person, you know," Alphie said. From the corner of his eye, Callidus saw a gleam of silver. "There's always the muggle way. Ros doesn't know this, but sometimes muggle ways are better. There's something about being able to physically hurt something with your own hands, to be powerful without even using magic."

"You're sick," Callidus said, but he was too tired to get up, indifferent to Alphie's attempts at frightening him. Narrowing his eyes, he caused the dagger in Alphie's hands to disappear. "You forget that this isn't the real world. Besides, you don't have to do anything to make me suffer. Your idiotic presence itself is agony enough."

Resigning himself to his fate, he let his eyes drift closed. Since he was here, he might as well sleep. Somehow, his mind slipped away to blackness, as Alphie cried: "Hey! Hey! Come back here! Come back!"

-o-

"Cal? Cal!"

Harry's voice was strangely close to him, and when Callidus peeled his eyes open, he found himself face-to-face with a pair of bright green eyes, brimming with concern.

"Callidus," said Draco, appearing next to Harry. "You're back." The blond smiled, and Callidus was surprised by the open warmth there.

"You're awake!" Harry cried. "We thought - well -"

"Don't crowd around," came the voice of Madam Pomfrey. Her wand was out, casting a diagnostic spell, and she nodded with satisfaction at what she saw. "How are you feeling? Is there still any pain?"

Callidus furrowed his brows, but then shook his head. "I - I'm fine I'm fine," he croaked, startled by the roughness of his own voice.

The matron nodded again. "Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, what are you doing out of your beds?" she chastised, shooing his friends away. She returned her attention to Callidus. "The Headmaster will want to speak to you."

Callidus sighed, knowing it was necessary but not looking forward to it. When the infirmary doors burst open, Callidus was expecting to see Dumbledore. What he was not expecting was for Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to sweep into the room, expressions barely composed and naked concern in their eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lucius Malfoy demanded, just as Dumbledore calmly entered the room. Narcissa rushed up to Draco's side, her hands as graceful as lilies as they pressed against Draco's cheeks.

"How is it that I had to learn that my son and heir was in the infirmary for over a week from one of my associates?" Lucius said, his voice controlled despite the dangerous sword-like edge. "Isn't it the school's responsibility to inform parents when anything befalls their children?"

Callidus could hear Draco grousing: "Mother! I'm fine! Wait - did father just say a week?"

"I assure you, your son is perfectly healthy," said Dumbledore, while Callidus wondered how the Headmaster could remain so serene when Lucius's words were a barely concealed threat.

Lucius's grip on his walking stick tightened. "He should have been in St Mungo's, with a team of professional healers!" He returned his attention to his son, walking up to the side of his bed, Dumbledore following behind sedately.

"On the contrary, a team of healers could have done nothing for him - and in fact, would have been too busy with the Orange Madness to help your son," Dumbledore replied. "This was the very best place that he could be."

Though Lucius appeared ready to argue, he instead turned to face his son. "What happened here, Draco?"

Draco paled, a sight which puzzled Callidus until he remembered that their brotherhood bond was a secret from his parents. It was clear that Draco didn't know what to say.

"It's my fault, Mr Malfoy," Harry piped up, his expression doleful.

'No!' Callidus thought, just as Draco's eyes widened, his head shaking.

"Oh? How so, Harry?" Lucius asked, voice deceptively honeyed, and stepping closer to Harry's bed so that Harry noticed neither Callidus's nor Draco's expression of panic.

"I was the one who betrayed the bond -"

"You've seen now that your son is perfectly fine, but the boys shall need time and rest to fully recover," Dumbledore cut in.

Lucius ignored the headmaster. "What bond?"

"Erm -" Finally, Harry broke eye contact with Lucius, peeking towards Draco, now nervous. But Draco was no longer shaking his head, too frozen by his dismay.

"The Headmaster is right," Madam Pomfrey cut in, "I won't have you stressing my patients when they are still recovering. I must ask that you leave, though you can return tomorrow."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the matron. "Then I am not here as a visiting parent but in the capacity as Chairman of Hogwarts Board of Governors." He turned back to Harry. "And I asked again: What. Bond."

Harry's lips were pressed into a thin line, now unwilling to speak, and he shook his head. It was a stunning act of courage and foolhardiness, on par with any Gryffindor. Callidus felt a strange ache, as he looked upon his brave friend. There was something unbearable about seeing him looking so vulnerable and alone, being interrogated by one of the most powerful men in Wizarding Britain.

In the end, it was Draco that cracked. "It was a brotherhood bond!"

Lucius tore his gaze away from Harry, pale eyes boring down on his son.

"This is unacceptable!" Madam Pomfrey cried. "You may be on The Board of Governors, but I am the one with the authority here in the infirmary. And since these boys are my patients, I insist that you leave."

Lucius opened his mouth, but Narcissa suddenly stood up, laying her hands upon his arm. "We can discuss this later, dear," she murmured, betraying no emotion in her mellifluous voice, and yet, her touch calmed Lucius as powerfully as any spell.

"Very well," Lucius said. He looked back down at Draco. "We shall discuss this later."

Draco couldn't meet his father's eyes. "Yes, father."

"I'm relieved to see that you are well," added Narcissa, and that drew a smile from Draco's lips. When the elder Malfoys finally left, Callidus felt as if he could breathe again.

"I'm sorry!" Harry burst out. "I didn't mean to let that slip!"

"I know," Draco sighed.

"What's done is done," Dumbledore murmured. "And your actions came from the heart. We shall deal with matters as they arise." He meant Callidus's eyes. "You're back with us, Callidus. Your friends were quite worried when you failed to wake."

Callidus suddenly remembered Alphie, suddenly knew that Hoyt had been attacking him in his dreams, but he said nothing of this. He had a feeling that he could deal with it henceforth. Instead, he merely nodded, wondering what had become of Alphie. He supposed that he would find out soon enough. Dumbledore asked a few more questions, made a few more remarks about how glad he was that the trio were alive and well (sounding dotty and grandfatherly as he went on about love and friendship and brotherhood and love some more, blue eyes scintillating like stars), before he finally left. Then, Harry and Draco had their own questions, and once he had answered all of them, Callidus was completely drained. For once, he was glad for Madam Pomfrey's interruption, insisting that the three of them needed to sleep. And despite weeks on end of being afraid of sleeping, it still came easily to him, a soft blanket of soothing nothingness.

-o-

When Callidus returned to consciousness, the infirmary was shrouded in darkness. It was the middle of the night, and yet he was fully awake and alert. He peeked over to the other beds, and saw the softly breathing lumps that indicated that Harry and Draco were sleeping. His mind drifted towards recent events, a chill sweeping over his skin when he thought about how close he and his brothers had come to death. And now, too, he finally knew what Hoyt had been doing to him, though memories of her actions still remained fuzzy. However, everything that Alphie had done was clear, and he knew that Hoyt was the one to teach Alphie. Curious to think that in this way, Alphie had given away her secret in the end.

It was hard to believe that he had been here for a week. What must Hermione, Caiside, and Ginny think? He inhaled sharply when something else occurred to him. Exams! Had he missed them? Oh Merlin, he had been so tired that it would be a veritable miracle if he could remember anything from his revisions. What if he failed all his classes? (Well, he wouldn't fail potions - he knew that too well). He groaned, before wondering whether it would help to study now. Didn't he have his book bag on hand?

But wait - what about the Orange Madness? He still had to write Wystan about what he had learned! He looked over towards the side table, feeling his eyes bulge when he noticed all the get well cards and letters. His lips drew downwards. If he was receiving get well cards, then how was it that the elder Malfoys hadn't heard about Draco's condition until today? Especially with the way that news spread in Slytherin House. Students were always writing home to their parents whenever anything newsworthy happened. Unless - was it possible? Could Dumbledore have stopped the owl post until Callidus, Harry, and Draco had recovered? Lighting a dim lumos, he picked up the stack of cards, riffling through them, and seeing nothing from the Filodoxos (aside from Caiside). It seemed probable.

As he glanced through the various cards and letters, he stilled when he spotted Wystan's familiar handwriting. Setting all the other letters aside, he quickly opened it.

He skipped over the introductions. Our researchers have carried out another detailed experiment, and more and more, we're convinced that the Orange Madness is a created disease. We're still not sure what to do with this information. And to make matters worse, knowing that the disease was made in a lab hasn't brought us any closer to a cure.

It's terrifying, but the disease seems to be harming the youngest victims the most. I'm sure you've read in the paper about the second fatality, a seven year old half-blood. I suppose it's a good thing that muggleborn children are living in the muggle world because I hate to imagine what would happen to them if they were exposed to the disease. I'm sorry if this letter sounds particularly morose. To be honest, everything I learn just exhausts me.

However, I have finally found the time to look into that enchantment that you were curious about. It took me ages to track down the wizard who performs the services, but it turns out that one of my contacts works for him, so it was really a matter of asking her to take a look at some of his old documents and paperwork. Whatever works, yeah?

Anyway, the enchantment you were wondering about, the one commissioned by Malfoy, is Dark, but not in a dangerous way, so don't worry. Actually, it's a rather curious enchantment, or series of enchantments I should say. There are a number of protective enchantments upon the pendant - you said it was a pendant, right? But there's also another enchantment that is most definitely illegal. It's in the same family as compulsion spells, but nowhere near as severe. I suppose you could say it's more of an influence spell or enchantment. It doesn't force the witch or wizard to act a certain way, but it affects them nonetheless by making use of what is innate.

The enchantment gives a gentle push towards an affinity for Dark. If you feel anger, it will amplify that anger. If you feel hate, it amplifies the hate, and so on. But it doesn't create anything that isn't there, and it doesn't turn you into something that you don't already have the potential to be. It's rather curious, actually. Anyone with a strong enough will won't be affected by it.

As for the other enchantment you were curious about, the one that can protect you from ingested substances, it'll cost about 103 galleons to have an item of your choice enchanted. Expensive, I know.

The rest of the letter was mostly news about FLAME and Calypso, so Callidus set it down, breathing deeply to still the slight trembling in his hands. He had been expecting so much worse. He had wanted to pin every negative action that he had perceived from Harry on the pendant. And while it was disturbing that the pendant was still influencing his behaviour, it didn't change the fact that it was still Harry who had chosen to act.

It was unfortunate that he couldn't use magic sight to see the magic from inorganic objects. It would have been interesting to see how the pendant affected Harry's magic. But then, like a bolt of lightning, something occurred to him. He was almost afraid of getting his hopes up, and yet, now that the idea had infiltrated his mind, it would not let go.

He pulled out the owl sight potion and Longbottom's brew from his bag. After brushing the owl sight potion over his eyelids, he climbed out of bed, marveling at how much steadier he felt this night compared to his previous attempts of climbing out of bed. Creeping over to Harry's bedside, he pulled the dragon-fang pendant out from under Harry's ropes and over his head. He peered down at the fang, using his magical sensitivity to probe it, but his encounter with Alphie had drained him more than he realized, and he felt no more than a faint darkness. Shaking his head, he closed his fingers over the pendant, and sneaked towards the curtains that shielded the disease to students, uncapping Longbottom's brew and vapourizing it.

His chest constricted painfully when he saw how much dimmer Longbottom's magic had become, not to mention the other students, but he didn't know them the way that he knew Longbottom. Taking the pendant, he looped it around Longbottom's neck, ruthlessly stamping down the hope that dared to arise in his chest. He was too afraid to hope. And yet, he had to try this, and if it was a dead end, then at least he would know.

He took a step back, knowing it would be easier to see all of Longbottom's magic that way. The whites and yellows were faint, like the flicker of a candle that had too little wick to burn. Drawing forth his last scraps of magical sensitivity, he focused on the Gryffindor. For a moment, it seemed like nothing had changed. But then, he felt something, felt a cold and dark hostility, as if the magic was testing him, testing his danger to the supine boy. And then a new colour began to emerge in Longbottom's signature, a beautiful shade of deep blue that often surrounded Harry.

Unlike the whites and yellows, there was a strength in the emerging blue arcs, weaving in and out of Longbottom's skin like embroidery thread. But then came and unexpected flash of light, and a noise like a distant horn, and moments later, the privacy curtains were swept open as Madam Pomfrey dashed into the room.

"What are you doing here?" the matron exclaimed.

"I -" Callidus could think of no excuse, and to claim that he was curious sounded wrong.

"The monitoring spell has indicated that there's been a change in Mr Longbottom's status. Did you -" she waved her wand over Longbottom's body, shaking her head. "How can this be? This is - this is -"

"Is he worse?" Callidus asked fearfully.

The matron shook her head again. "No. He's better. He's getting stronger." Her brows drew together. "What's this around his neck?"

Callidus stilled, wondering how he could possibly answer. The idea that Longbottom could be getting better still hadn't penetrated his mind, still seemed too amazing to believe, but now his mind was tripping over itself trying to come up with a plausible explanation for the matron.

"It's a pendant. It belongs to Harry - but it has protective qualities, so I thought, well, I hoped -"

Madam Pomfrey's expression softened. "You were trying to help. Whatever you did, it's done more for him than anything else I've tried." She studied the dragon-tooth. "I'm going to have to send it to the researcher's at St Mungo's to study."

"It doesn't belong to me -"

"I believe that Mr Potter will understand. This will save lives."

There was nothing Callidus could do but nod.

"Now, back to bed. I'll forgive you for your wanderings this time." Madam Pomfrey's smile was soft, and kind, and the ache that tightened in his chest whenever he thought of Longbottom eased.

-o-

The trio were released from the hospital just in times for exams, and it would have seemed like the worst possible nightmare scenario if Callidus hadn't just been at death's door a few short days ago. He had used every free moment in the infirmary to revise, and while he was sure he could do well in his finals, it wouldn't be at the standards he had hoped for.

When the trio were finally permitted visitors, not only did the Gryffindor girls swarm upon them, bursting with worry, but so too did the Slytherins. Pansy, and Blaise teased Callidus and Harry for being magnets of disaster, drawing Draco into their scrapes. Hermione came close to having a meltdown, fretting about Callidus's grades. No one but the matron, Dumbledore (and now the Malfoys) knew how close the trio had been to dying. Callidus supposed it was for the best.

He learned later (once the mad rush of exams were over), that Alphie had fallen into a sleep, and failed to awaken. It explained why Hoyt, Randle, and Drefen kept giving Callidus frightened looks, even though he did not have any recollection of personally hurting them. No one, not even Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey, could make sense of what had happened to Alphie, and for that, Callidus was grateful. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad about Alphie's fate. The older boy had been a nasty person, and while most of Hogwarts might be happy to label all Slytherins as mean and nasty, Alphie was worse than most.

Draco's parents did return to Hogwarts to speak to him, but they did so without Callidus's and Harry's presence, and when they asked Draco what his parents had said, he had pressed his lips together and shook his head, refusing speak. However, he did not appear upset by their words, and Callidus soon forgot about it.

Slytherin ended up winning the Quidditch Cup, but the House Cup went to the Gryffindors (in no small part thanks to all the points that Hermione racked up in class). Callidus couldn't bring himself to be too upset. Yes, the Great Hall might have been draped in red and gold, but he was alive, and the feasts felt more like a celebration of life than a celebration of Gryffindor merits.

And soon, it was the morning of their departure, and the trio we're seated at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall for one last breakfast.

"Two weeks with my aunt and uncle, but then I can spend the rest of the summer at Hogwarts again," Harry remark, smile bittersweet. Two weeks with his muggle relatives was still two weeks too long. He rubbed his hand against his neck and then paused, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. "Hey! What happened to my necklace?"

Callidus blinked. With the rush of finals, he had forgotten to tell Harry that he had removed the pendant and had given it to Longbottom and Madam Pomfrey. He was surprised that Harry hadn't even noticed its absence until now.

"St Mungo's probably has it now," Callidus murmured. "There was something I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind." He bit down on the inside of his cheek, before deciding it might be easier to simply show Harry Wystan's letter. Pulling it out of his book bag, he handed it to the other boy.

As Harry scanned over the words, his eyes grew wide. "C-can I show this to Draco?"

Callidus pursed his lips, belatedly remembering that the letter also contained information about the Orange Madness. "Swear that you won't tell anyone what's in it. Both of you."

Harry was quick to swear, but Draco bit his lower lip uncertainly, before finally agreeing. When he saw what Wystan had written, his own eyes widened as well. "I - I didn't realize the enchantment would do that. I swear, Harry, I never asked for - I only meant for it to contain protective enchantments."

Harry hummed before giving Draco a sympathetic smile. "I know you wouldn't have done anything like that on purpose. I just - well - this is a lot to think about. I can't believe -" he ran his fingers through his hair, making the wayward strands look more unruly than ever. "Oh Merlin, and then what I did to Rowle -" he shook his head. "It seems like such a fantastic idea at the time, but I completely ruined her reputation, didn't I?"

The trio looked towards the seventh years, who ate their breakfast in a subdued silence. As much as Callidus dislike Rowle, he found himself saying: "It's not too late to apologize." The apology wouldn't be for Rowle's sake anyway. It was Harry who would have to live with the guilt, and Callidus didn't want Harry to suffer that. Besides, even if Harry did apologize, Rowle was the one who would have to live with the knowledge that all her friends had turned against her, and Harry would have still gotten his revenge. With trust broken, Rowle's friendships would never be the same again.

"I -" Harry knit his brows, before sighing. "Yeah. Maybe I should."

Just as Harry stood up and stepped cautiously towards the end of the table, the owl post arrived. Draco unfolded the Daily Prophet, and it was much easier to see the headline without Harry sitting between them.

CURE FOR THE ORANGE MADNESS FINALLY FOUND, the headline jubilantly announced. He angled himself closer to Draco, and read over the article, aware of the excitement that was blooming all around him, as the good news rained upon them after a long drought. The article gave no specifics about the cure, no mention of anything about Light or Dark magic, no mention even of the pendant. Only one other thing caught his eye: a separate article about how the bill for the muggleborn registry had been rescinded.

Callidus wasn't entirely sure what to think. But then, how would people react if they knew that the disease had specifically targeted those who exclusively used Light magic, with the only cure being Dark magic? He supposed that the propaganda machines would struggle to spend that particular tale; especially since Wystan had kept the fact that the disease was manufactured a secret in the end. When Callidus had asked about it, the older boy had merely explained that revealing the secret would only make the perpetrators more careful, that he still had a great deal more research to do and didn't want to show his hand. At least the muggleborn registry was no longer a threat.

By the time Harry had returned to his seat, the seventh years were tentatively speaking to Rowle, and Harry was wearing a tremulous smile. Neither Harry nor Draco asked about what had happened to the pendant. And as the knowledge of the Orange Madness's cure spread from student to student, it was impossible to let troubled thoughts carry any weight.

He was alive, his friends were alive, and even Longbottom was alive. His exam results might have been better, he might not have met all his goals when it came to his personal potions projects, but being alive had never tasted so sweet.

Soon, that they were all boarding the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross station. Joy for the long-awaited break mingled with sadness at the thought of friends being parted. It was when they were settled in their compartment that Draco finally thought to ask: "By the way Harry, that prank of yours - not the one with Euphemia Rowle, but the other one, with all the noise - how did you plan it?"

"Oh," Harry's cheeks coloured red, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you remember that Quidditch match where I got hit by the bludger, and Lockhart vanished my bones?"

Callidus's and Draco's expressions darkened. How could they forget such a harrowing moment?

"Anyway," Harry continued, "when I was in the infirmary, I met up with Luna." Upon seeing their blank looks, he elaborated: "Luna Lovegood. Remember? Our first prank? We saw her in the library, and she had an empty vapour bomb container?"

Draco's eyebrows flew up. "That barmy Ravenclaw?"

"She's not barmy - she's just a little different, that's all. Since we were both stuck there, we started talking about the first prank, and I mentioned that it would be fun to do something that would make everyone laugh and feel good, so we came up with the idea together. She's actually really clever. I can see why she was sorted into Ravenclaw. We mostly spoke using Hedwig."

Draco hummed, before the corner of his lips crooked up in a smile. "Speaking of making everyone laugh, Lockhart met a pretty fitting fate, didn't he?"

Harry burst out into laughter, and even Callidus felt his cheeks pulling up in a grin. "Who would have ever thought that he'd be brought low by his own celebrity?" Harry chortled. "I can't believe Colin Creevey managed to take those pictures of Lockhart when he snuck out skinny-dipping in the lake."

"I can't believe the photos circulated as rapidly as they did," Callidus muttered. "The girls were certainly happy."

Draco snorted. "They can't have been that happy. His - parts - were less than impressive."

Callidus arched an eyebrow. "You were looking?"

"Everyone was looking!" Draco burst out. "It was impossible to miss, standing the way he was, with everything - ugh." He shuddered.

"To be fair, cold water isn't exactly kind to anyone's bits," Harry mused. "It was still hilarious though."

They spent the rest of the trip speculating about their third year subjects, and before long, they were at King's Cross station, and Callidus spotted Caiside making her way over towards the Filodoxos.

"Don't forget to write, both of you," Draco said. "And we need to make plans to get together sometime this summer."

"I don't know if I'll be able to when I'm living with my aunt and uncle, but I'll definitely write once I'm at Hogwarts."

"I doubt anything of interest will happen this summer, but nonetheless, I shall keep you both informed," Callidus said, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. It would only be a couple months before he saw them again.

After saying a final goodbye, the three of them parted, and Callidus found himself thinking yet again the that it was good to be alive, that it was good to have friends, that it was good to have brothers.

A/N: Certain loose ends will be important in the next part of the series. I'll also be introducing new POVs (Draco & Hermione), but Callidus will be the main character. I've also been reading more about how to write, so I hope I can fix some weak points in my story telling, but I can't promise anything.

In canon, exams are cancelled... poor kids can't catch a break.

Next work on the series is: Callidus Prince and the Grim Unmasked (I'll post the first chapter right away)

Thank you very much for reading!

Also, I'd like to thank Mistress DragonFlame for shaping some of my ideas for the dragon fang, and thank all my reviewers for taking the time to comment!