Hermione did not know how long she had sat there, holding Lynn's hand and keeping watch. The moon outside gradually sank westward, and the inky blue sky revealed its first streak of gray-white. The Hospital Wing was so quiet that only Lynn's faint but steady breathing remained, along with her own heartbeat, quickened by exhaustion and nerves. She did not dare close her eyes, afraid of missing even the slightest change in him.
When the first true ray of dawn, warm and golden, slanted through the high glass windows and fell across Lynn's pale face, his eyelashes trembled almost imperceptibly.
Hermione's heart lurched! Holding her breath, she leaned forward, her eyes fixed on him without blinking.
After a few seconds that felt as long as a century, those thick lashes trembled again. Then, ever so slowly, they parted by a sliver. His deep black eyes, calm as an abyss, struggled to focus through the confusion of waking and a lingering weariness.
His gaze first swept vaguely across the unfamiliar white ceiling. Then, little by little and with some effort, it moved downward until it finally fell on the figure at his bedside, who looked ready to throw herself onto him.
Hermione's hair was a mess, dark circles lay heavy beneath her eyes, tear tracks crisscrossed her cheeks, and her wrinkled school robe was stained with dark red blood. She looked awful, like a small creature that had been frightened half to death yet stubbornly refused to leave its nest. But when her gaze met his open eyes, those brown eyes, once bloodshot and filled with worry and fear, instantly lit up with overwhelming joy like fireworks bursting across the night sky!
"Lynn!" Her voice was hoarse and thick with tears, yet brimming with the immense joy of having him back. It was so soft, as though she feared disturbing him. "You're awake! How do you feel? Does it hurt? Should I call Madam Pomfrey?" The questions tumbled out like rolling pearls. Her hand still clutched his tightly, conveying scorching warmth and an uncontrollable tremble.
Lynn's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He seemed to want to speak, but his cracked lips only moved, producing nothing more than an extremely hoarse breath of sound. A dull, sharp pain pulsed from beneath the thick bandages over his chest, reminding him of everything that had happened before he lost consciousness. He tried moving a finger and found it tightly held in Hermione's grasp, with astonishing strength.
His gaze fell upon Hermione's utterly haggard face. He saw the tears welling in her eyes and the undisguised concern and lingering fear that nearly overflowed from them. An unfamiliar feeling, carrying a faint sting, passed through his heart, clearer than the pain in his body.
He turned his hand over and, using every ounce of strength he could muster, gave her cold fingers an exceedingly slight yet utterly firm squeeze.
That tiny movement struck Hermione like an electric current. All her worry, fear, and forced strength burst through their dam at that moment. Scalding tears poured forth, and she could no longer hold back. She bent down and gently pressed her forehead beside his uninjured shoulder, sobbing quietly. Her hot tears soaked into his hospital gown.
"...Don't cry." A voice so hoarse it was nearly inaudible came from above her, carrying an awkward attempt at comfort.
Hermione cried even harder, her shoulders trembling faintly. She was not sad. It was the release after unbearable tension, the wild joy of having him back.
Just then, Madam Pomfrey swept aside the curtains and hurried in as though she had timed it perfectly, carrying a steaming tray of medicine. Seeing the conscious Lynn and Hermione crying her heart out, a barely noticeable softness appeared on her stern face.
"It's good that you're awake!" Her voice carried a professional briskness. She set down the tray, drew her wand, and began examining him rapidly. "Your Magic Fluctuation is extremely weak, and the damage to your source is worse than expected."
"The dark corruption in your chest has been suppressed by Phoenix Tears, but it will heal very slowly. Listen, Mr. Lynn." She looked sternly into Lynn's eyes. "Your body is like glass that will shatter at the slightest touch. For at least the next month, you are forbidden from using magic in any form, including the smallest Levitation Charm! You need absolute rest and recuperation, allowing Star Origin to slowly repair itself. Do you understand?"
Lynn watched her in silence. A few seconds later, he nodded almost imperceptibly. More than anyone, he understood the state of his body. The backlash from forcibly activating the Star Stone to resist the Killing Curse had far exceeded his expectations.
"As for you, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, turning toward the still-sniffling Hermione, her tone softening slightly, "you have been here for the entire night. Now, immediately, go back to your dormitory! Wash up, eat, and sleep! Otherwise, I'll pour a bottle of potent Draught of Living Death down your throat and make you sleep for three days!" Her gaze fell on the bloodstains on Hermione's school robe and her exhausted face, leaving no room for argument.
Hermione abruptly raised her head, tears still clinging to her face, and looked anxiously at Lynn. "But..."
"No buts!" Madam Pomfrey said firmly. "What he needs most right now is quiet rest! Having you here does nothing except make him worry! Go back immediately! That is a doctor's order!"
Hermione was left speechless and could only look toward Lynn for help. Meeting her gaze, Lynn gave another extremely slight shake of his head, his calm eyes conveying a simple meaning: obey.
"Okay... okay." Hermione bit her lower lip and reluctantly released Lynn's hand, his faint body heat still lingering at her fingertips. She walked toward the door while constantly looking back, her eyes glued to Lynn as if she wanted to carve the image of him awake into her mind.
"At noon... can I come see you at noon?" At the door, she could not help turning back and asking Madam Pomfrey softly, her eyes full of pleading.
Madam Pomfrey looked at the girl's swollen red eyes and finally sighed. "After three in the afternoon. Visiting hours are half an hour. Now, disappear from my sight immediately!"
Hermione practically ran back to Gryffindor Tower. She washed up haphazardly, gulped down a few bites of bread and some hot milk that a House-elf had brought to the Common Room, then collapsed onto her bed. Extreme exhaustion instantly swallowed her whole. Before her consciousness sank into darkness, the last thing that flashed through her mind was the moment Lynn opened his eyes and the faint pressure of his fingers squeezing hers.
Her sleep was far from peaceful. In her dreams, the sickly green light of the Killing Curse in the chamber, Fluffy's roar, and Lynn's pale, bloodstained face tangled together... Every time she woke with a start, her heart pounded wildly. Only after confirming that it had merely been a dream did she fall back into shallow sleep.
By two thirty in the afternoon, Hermione could no longer lie still. She jumped out of bed, tidied herself up as quickly as possible, and changed into a clean school robe, looking neat and refreshed, though the dark circles beneath her eyes could not be completely hidden. After a moment's thought, she took a thick book she had recently been studying from the drawer of her bedside table, one about the energy stability of Ancient Runes, and then went to the kitchen for a small jug of warm pumpkin juice.
When she arrived at the entrance to the Hospital Wing fifteen minutes early, Madam Pomfrey was changing the dressing of a first-year student with a stern expression. Seeing Hermione, she merely raised her eyelids and gave a humph, tacitly allowing her in.
Hermione walked lightly to Lynn's bedside. He was awake, quietly looking out the window. Sunlight fell across his sharply defined profile, and his long lashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyes. His face was still pale, but he looked more alive than he had that morning. The bandages on his chest had been changed, yet beneath the pristine white wrappings, the outline of the savage scar could still faintly be seen.
"Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked softly. She carefully set the pumpkin juice on the bedside table and placed the book on the chair she had brought over.
Lynn turned his head, his gaze settling on her face, and nodded. His eyes lingered for a moment on the faint darkness beneath hers.
"I brought you some pumpkin juice, and... well, I thought that if you got bored, I could read something to you?" Hermione picked up the thick book somewhat awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. She felt that her suggestion might be a little silly.
Lynn's gaze swept over the profound book on runes before returning to Hermione's nervous, expectant face. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "Mm."
That simple response instantly brightened Hermione's eyes. She immediately sat down on the chair beside the bed, opened the book, cleared her throat, and began reading aloud in a clear, gentle voice about the principles behind stable configurations of Ancient Runes energy circuits.
Her voice flowed through the quiet Hospital Wing, carrying the bright clarity unique to a young girl and a gentle attentiveness. Sunlight streamed through the window, warmly enveloping them both. Hermione read with great seriousness. When she came to a particularly difficult passage, she unconsciously slowed down, furrowed her brow in thought, and then continued. She was completely absorbed, as though she were not reading a profound book of magical theory, but telling a warm story.
Lynn listened quietly. Most of the time, his gaze rested on the pages, but occasionally it lifted to Hermione's focused profile. The sunlight outlined her fluffy brown curls and danced across her fair cheeks. Whenever she became absorbed in reading, she would unconsciously sway her head slightly, and a few unruly strands would fall over her forehead. Her fingertips moved across the runes on the page with a rhythm that somehow put him at ease.
A strange tranquility enveloped the small space around the hospital bed. The pain in his body still remained, and the weakness caused by his depleted magic clung to him like a shadow. Yet as he listened to her soft, earnest voice and watched her lively face so close to him, Lynn felt a peace that soothed the depths of his heart, unlike anything he had known before. The Star Stone against his chest gave off an exceedingly faint but steady warmth, as though it, too, had been soothed by the atmosphere.
As Hermione read, she would occasionally pause and ask softly, "Is this describing something like a buffering mechanism in a Magic Circuit? What do you think?" She did not truly need an answer. It was more like an instinctive desire to share and seek confirmation. Sometimes Lynn would give a slight nod; other times, he would simply watch her in silence, his gaze calm. This wordless exchange made Hermione feel safer and more content than any words could have.
Time quietly slipped away amid turning pages and gentle reading. The half-hour visiting period seemed to pass in an instant. It was only when Madam Pomfrey approached with a stern expression to remind her that Hermione realized the time was up.
She closed the book and rose reluctantly, looking at Lynn. "I... I'll come see you again tomorrow?"
Lynn's gaze lingered on her face for a moment. He nodded, his voice still hoarse but somewhat clearer. "...Okay."
That single word made a tiny flower bloom in Hermione's heart. She tried hard to suppress the smile tugging at her lips and said softly, "Then get plenty of rest. Don't think about anything." After hesitating for a moment, she quickly reached out. Her fingertips brushed the back of his hand outside the blanket with a touch as light as a feather, then she snatched them back like a startled rabbit, two red clouds blooming across her cheeks.
"I... I'm leaving!" She grabbed the book and practically fled.
Lynn watched the girl's retreating figure disappear behind the curtains, then lowered his head to look at the back of the hand she had just touched. It seemed to retain a faint sensation of warmth. Slowly, he raised that hand, his fingertips unconsciously brushing over the charred scar beneath the thick bandages on his chest, which still throbbed faintly. The weakness brought on by Star Origin's depletion weighed on him like heavy shackles, clearly reminding him of the price of power. He slowly closed his eyes. Sunlight fell across his face, but it could not dispel the somber darkness deep in his eyes. The road ahead was far from clear.
Before you continue