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Chapter 25 - Chapter 25 : Concern

"Brother… are you really fine?" Draco asked again, sitting stiffly beside the bed.

Victor let out a tired breath and leaned back against the headboard. "This is the fifth time you've asked in the last ten minutes."

Draco scowled. "That's because you collapsed and started bleeding from your eyes," he snapped. "Forgive me for being concerned."

Victor glanced in his direction—or at least toward where Draco's voice was coming from—and gave a faint, crooked smile. "Relax. I'm not dying."

Draco hesitated, then muttered, "You still can't see."

"That part is inconvenient," Victor admitted calmly. "Not fatal."

Draco fell quiet for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. Victor hadn't expected this much concern from him—especially not from the same brother who was usually unruly and acted like a complete brat.

But Victor's thoughts were already drifting elsewhere.

To the system.

To the pain.

'That damned thing,' he thought flatly. 'Whatever it had done to him wasn't minor. The agony earlier had been real—far beyond anything he'd ever felt in either life.'

A faint interface surfaced in his mind.

[Eyes of the Dead — Progress: 1%]

"…So that's it," Victor murmured.

He hadn't expected Eyes of the Dead to have an awakening stage at all. Until now, he'd assumed its purpose was simple—seeing things others couldn't. Souls. Residual magic. Things hidden from normal perception.

He hadn't known it could awaken.

And it certainly hadn't crossed his mind that receiving the Mental Strength of a Dementor would trigger it—violently.

So that's why, he reasoned. The mental strength pushed it past some threshold.

At least there was one small mercy.

He wasn't permanently blind.

Victor was certain of that much. If the system displayed progress, then reaching one hundred percent would restore his sight—and likely enhance it far beyond normal vision.

Still…

He exhaled slowly.

Being blind, even temporarily, was profoundly uncomfortable.

"I really hope you hurry up," he muttered inwardly, directing the thought at the system itself.

Three pairs of hurried footsteps entered the infirmary.

Before Victor could say anything, someone took his hand—careful, warm, unmistakably familiar.

"Okay… it's you, Hermione, right?" Victor asked lightly. After all, he didn't have many friends—and even fewer with hands this soft.

Hermione's eyes went immediately to the white cloth wrapped around his eyes. Up close, it looked worse than she had imagined.

Harry and Ron lingered nearby, suddenly unsure of what to do with themselves.

"What happened?" Hermione asked at once, the words rushing out. "A–are your eyes fine?" There was tension in her voice she couldn't hide.

"They're fine," Victor said calmly. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Well… temporarily, I can't see."

"What?" Hermione blurted out.

That was definitely not fine.

Harry stiffened, and Ron's mouth fell open as both of them stared at Victor, the weight of his words finally sinking in.

"You—you can't see?" Hermione repeated, her grip tightening on his hand despite herself.

Victor nodded slightly. "Not permanently. At least, I don't think so."

Harry hesitated, then asked, "What happened? Did you get into some kind of accident?"

"I don't know," Victor replied honestly. "It came out of nowhere. One moment I was fine, the next there was pain—and then Draco brought me here. Since then… I can't see."

There was a brief silence.

Ron frowned. "Aren't you being a bit too calm for someone who's lost their eyesight?"

That earned him an immediate glare from Draco, sharp enough to cut glass.

"He said it's temporary," Draco snapped. "Try listening."

Victor let out a quiet breath. "Panicking won't fix it," he said evenly. "If it's going to come back, it will. If it doesn't—then I'll deal with that when it happens."

Hermione pressed her lips together, clearly unsatisfied, but she didn't argue.

"…Madam Pomfrey said anything?" she asked instead.

"That I should rest," Victor replied dryly. "And not stress myself. Which is ironic, considering the circumstances."

Harry glanced around the infirmary, taking in the beds and the quiet wards humming in the air. "So… you're stuck here for now." In this condition, he couldn't imagine Victor being allowed anywhere else.

"Seems like it," Victor said.

Ron shifted his weight, suddenly awkward. "Er—well. If you need anything… I mean—books, notes—"

Before Victor could respond, Draco shot him a sharp look.

"Do you have no sense at all?" he snapped. "Use your head. Why would my brother need books right now? If you can't console someone, just shut up."

Ron flushed, opening his mouth, then closing it again. "…Right," he muttered.

Victor sighed. "He means well," he said mildly, though there wasn't much conviction in it.

Draco snorted but said nothing more, folding his arms and resuming his silent vigil by the bed.

"Is this because of all those late nights?" Hermione asked, almost accusing. "You've been exhausting yourself—barely sleeping, always disappearing. You act like it doesn't matter, and now this happens."

'Good thing there are no professors here,' Victor thought. 'Otherwise this would turn into an interrogation.'

"I'm the patient here," he said mildly. "Have some mercy. I'm fairly sure this has nothing to do with me staying out at night."

Hermione looked unconvinced.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Now that she's asking—where are you going every night?"

Victor paused for half a second. "Exploring Hogwarts," he said. "Nothing strange."

"Exploring," Hermione repeated flatly. "At night. When we're not allowed."

Victor gave a helpless shrug. "The castle is very educational after curfew."

Draco scoffed. "You're terrible at lying."

"I'm not lying," Victor replied calmly. "I'm just… selectively honest."

Which, to be fair, was true.

He was exploring the castle—specifically the Room of Requirement—digging through mountains of forgotten junk so that one noseless bastard wouldn't return in the future. If that also meant keeping Draco from being dragged into things he would hate and regret later, then Victor considered the effort justified.

Some truths were better left unexplained.

*****

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