The Founders

Chapter 30

The rest of the day passed in similar fashion; Charms with the Ravenclaws, ignoring Alexander; lunch with Kat and Grace, while Oscar had quidditch practice; free period, trying to catch up on Charms; double Transfiguration. By the time dinner came around, Kyra was utterly exhausted from actually doing the work which she had avoided for weeks. She lay face down on her bed, listening to Grace move about the room, tidying up her clothes.

Once she was done with that, it was still a bit too early for dinner- around five thirty- but they decided to go up to the hall anyway, since neither of them were going to do work before dinner. They hung around the entrance hall for a few minutes, waiting for dinner to open and were among the first people inside.

Kyra ate dinner quickly- shepherd's pie and treacle tart- and kept Grace company until Kat showed up. Then she headed back to the Slytherin common room, commandeered a table near the fire and continued the work for Charms, knowing that what she was writing was utter rubbish.

Grace joined her again a while later, starting the Transfiguration essay and Kyra stayed for as long as she could, until she decided that she really couldn't keep Oscar waiting in the kitchens any longer.

There was still about an hour before their curfew, so Oscar would probably already be half-way through the biscuit making process. She could help him cut out the dough, at any rate, she thought with a slight twinge of guilt.

Bounding back up the stairs and crossing the hall to the corridor beside the kitchens, she found the painting of the pears already slightly open. She pushed it wide, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, turns out Lingard is more sadis-". She cut herself off. The kitchen was full of the smell of burning, a red light pulsing next to the buttons on the oven.

She darted forward to switch off the oven and caught sight of Oscar. He was sprawled on the ground in front of the fireplace, his legs were bent at an unnatural angle, a smear of blood across his forehead. His skin was slightly grey. She made a noise in her throat and fell back against the counter, steading herself on it.

Oscar. She walked unsteadily towards him, collapsing to her knees, feeling his pulse, shaking him. He was still alive, pulse beating slowly, but his skin felt cold. Someone was screaming. It took her a moment to realise that it was her. From somewhere behind her, someone was saying something, there was a hand on her arm pulling her up.

She snapped back into reality, everything coming into focus again. She was standing next to the door of the kitchen, Professor Gribble with two hands on her shoulders. Behind her was Professor Brockett and Madame Pomphrey levitating Oscar onto a stretcher, their faces sombre. Professor Gribble tried to lead her back to her own room, but Kyra refused to go, following instead behind Oscar until they reached the Hospital Wing.

She was forced to wait outside while the matron healed him and ran tests and part way through the night, Grace joined her. They sat with their backs against the wall in silence, the moonlight slowly sliding down the wall.

In the early hours of the morning, Madame Pomphrey opened the door to the Hospital Wing and said that they could come in.

Kyra and Grace scrambled to their feet, exchanging a glance, and followed the matron through the doors. Pale blue dawn light filtered in through the high-arched windows and suffused the room, illuminating rows of neat beds and bedsides, their sheets crisply folded and anonymous. Madame Pomphrey marched down between the beds, empty except for one sleeping girl, to a curtained bed at the far end of the room.

As she walked, she spoke. "He is awake but heavily drugged while the muscle damage from the Cruciatus curse heals," Madame Pomphrey warned.

Grace let out a distressed noise in the back of her throat, which she then cleared. "He was- Oscar was crucioed?" she asked, a barely imperceptible waver in her voice.

"Yes." Madame Pomphrey was matter-of-fact. She stopped abruptly, half way down the room and spun on her heel to face them. "Between the hours of about seven and nine last night, Oscar suffered severe and prolonged use of the Cruciatus curse followed by Obliviation."

She softened slightly at the appalled looks on their faces. "Count that as a blessing, girls; his mind can't remember the pain, only his body." She resumed her path down the aisle of beds, leaving Kyra and Grace to follow behind, shell shocked.

Kyra could feel the slow turn of her heart, loud in her ears. Between seven and nine. The hours that she should have been there, if she'd stuck to her word. And not only that, but it was Oscar who had been tortured. Oscar. What possible reason could anyone have to do that?

Unless it was the same reason as before; her. She felt sick. She swallowed down bile, folded her shaking hands in front of her, as Madame Pomphrey pulled the blue sheet curtain back. Conjuring two chairs, she gave both girls a sympathetic look and disappeared into her office.

Kyra sank down slowly into a chair and took one of Oscar's hands between both of hers. His skin was still sallow and waxy, and there were blue shadows stamped under his eyes. There was a faint scar on his forehead. Grace, leaning over him, brushed his hair back from his face, which lay in sweaty tangles on his forehead. He blearily opened his eyes, shifting restlessly, and smiled slowly at them. His smile continued to widen until it was almost comical, and his eyes had a glassy sheen to them.

"Friends," he grinned happily.

Kyra gave something between a hiccup and a sob. "You really are high, Oscar".

Grace gave a watery smile and asked gently, "What happened, Oscar?"

He shook his head sadly as the smile slipped from his face. "I don't remember," he said helplessly, looking up at them. "I remember that I went to the kitchens to bake and then I think someone came in behind me."

He shrugged, adding, "I thought it was one of you. One of my friends. The next thing I know, I've got Brockett doing mouth to mouth with me," he said, laughing, his mood lifting again.

Kyra and Grace laughed with him, and he didn't seem to notice that it was forced. Kyra stood up, wiping her eyes. "Do you mind if I go outside for a moment? Just- toilet."

She walked quickly towards the doors, pushed them open and leaned on them heavily as they slammed shut, closing her eyes. She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, letting out a sob and then another one.

A footstep alerted her to the presence of someone else and she straightened immediately, looking around.

Alexander stood a few feet away, looking uncertainly at her.