Hogwarts Mystery [HP APPLY FIC]

year two, chapter ten

The trip to St Mungo's was a blur to Caleb.

They were rushed through Healers and magical procedures, and he caught the odd phrase like "it's smoke inhalation" and "lucky we caught it when we did", but beyond that, he didn't pay much attention.

He stuck with Winnie through most of it. Since she'd broken down after seeing Ian's dead body, she'd refused to be separated from him unless it was strictly necessary.

After a while, they must have been deemed okay, because they were shuffled off into a private room where they were allowed to sit on stiff, white hospital beds.

Caleb was pretty sure they were told to "try and get some rest", but he brushed it off in favour of following Winnie to sit on one of the several beds on offer.

He leaned against the wall, letting the emotional load of the day wash over him.

Winnie buried her head in his shoulder, and after a while, he felt her finally begin to relax.

They remained silent, the bone-aching tiredness settling in. They'd talk about it, but not now.

After an hour or so, the doors swung open, and Evan and Zoë were guided in.

"What's happening?" Evan choked out.

With hindsight, the symptoms were laughably obvious.

"We've just conducted a small set of spells, nothing to worry about," the Healer said smoothly. "It's all over now, so you can go ahead and relax. There will be someone arriving in a little while to question you, but don't worry, Professor Dumbledore will be with them. If you need anything, please just ask."

"A—Alright," Zoë's scratchy voice was as scared as he'd ever heard it, but she seemed placated upon seeing her friends.

The Healer quietly slipped out of the room, and both of them turned their wild eyes to Caleb who, for once, was not in the mood for a discussion.

"Rowan was with us, but the hospital sent them home once they'd realised they were fine," Zoë explained quietly.

Evan lowered himself onto the end of one of the crisp duvets, and Caleb could see the cogs turning in his head.

Zoë frowned but she copied Evan's actions anyway.

"Where's Ian?" Evan asked slowly, and Caleb would never forget what it was like to see the realisation form on Evan's face.

Caleb would blame the smoke later, but in reality, he couldn't move the truth past the lump in his throat. Instead, he simply shook his head.

At some point, someone from the Ministry came in with a clipboard and an overload of questions, wanting to confirm the nature of the death and the actions that led up to it.

Dumbledore stood a few paces behind the official, nodding his head serenely in a way he must have thought was helpful.

To Caleb's surprise, Winnie adjusted her position to have her back against the wall, threaded her fingers through his, and answered the interrogatory questions as smoothly as she could.

Selfishly, he felt relieved that she had taken control of the situation, offering her a reassuring smile when she looked to him to confirm her words as true.

The Ministry Official made a few pointed notes and left, assuring them they would "be in touch".

Dumbledore lingered, and Caleb could tell a speech was on its way.

"I hope you do not blame yourselves," he began in that wavering voice of his.

"Of course I do. It was my fault," Winnie interjected, lip trembling.