Jake Dawson woke up the same way he lived: loud, confused, and somehow convinced the universe owed him an audience.

  “AM I DEAD?!” he shouted, filing upward so suddenly he knocked over the water gss beside his bed.

  Madam Pomfrey didn’t even look up from her desk.

  “No. But you will wish you were if you shout again.”

  I stood beside Evie at the end of the bed, arms folded. Nathaniel and Desmond had arrived moments earlier, just in time for this melodrama. Desmond was still chewing on what looked like a chocote frog. He froze mid-bite.

  “Jake,” I said dryly, “you fell off a broom. Not from the Tower.”

  “I SAW THE LIGHT,” Jake insisted, gasping like a Victorian poet. “It looked like… Evie.”

  Evie blinked. “…What?”

  Jake slowly turned to her. Eyes wide. Emotion thick in his voice.

  “You were there. Sitting beside me like an angel guarding a battlefield.”

  She leaned back slightly, clearly unsure whether to be fttered or concerned.

  Nathaniel coughed to hide a ugh.

  “Did the Bludger knock something loose?” Desmond asked. “Like… reality?”

  Jake tried to sit up, failed, and let himself flop back down with a theatrical groan. “My ribs. My spine. My heart.”

  Madam Pomfrey approached with a vial of thick green potion.

  “Here,” she said. “Muscle-knitting elixir. Sip slowly.”

  Jake looked at the potion like it was poison.

  “This looks like swamp juice.”

  “It’s closer to troll sweat,” Pomfrey said. “Bottoms up.”

  He winced, plugged his nose, and took a heroic gulp.

  A second ter, he choked and spat the potion out—straight into Desmond’s face.

  “AAAGH—WHAT THE—!” Desmond stumbled back, green liquid dripping from his chin. “I came here to be supportive, not baptized!”

  Evie burst into ughter, a bright sound echoing off the stone walls. Even Nathaniel chuckled, using his sleeve to dab Desmond’s face.

  Jake flopped backward again, groaning, “I was born for greatness, not for green goo…”

  “You were born to be a hazard,” I muttered.

  Evie and the HeroEvie stood, smiling as she looked down at Jake. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse. Caelum got you out of there fast.”

  Jake turned to me with big, watery eyes.

  “You carried me like a warrior… You’re my brother in arms, mate. If I die in a duel, name your first son after me.”

  “You’re not dying,” I replied.

  “Still. Prepare.”

  Evie rolled her eyes and stepped away to give him space. She moved beside me, her voice lower now. “He’s ridiculous. But… it’s kind of sweet.”

  “Ridiculous is his sweetness,” I said. “He’s chaos personified. If the universe made him quieter, it would implode.”

  She ughed again.

  I caught a flicker in her eyes—still curious. Still watching me. But not the way she looked at Jake. I wasn’t the hero in her story.

  That was fine.

  I wasn’t here to be loved.

  I was here to understand.

  A New Kind of WeaponWhile Jake was busy pretending to be dying again and Desmond tried to wash potion out of his ears, I excused myself quietly.

  The infirmary had other rooms. Not many students knew that. One of them had shelves lined with bottles, vials, and scrolls of medical magic. Madam Pomfrey followed me with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’m not handing you anything sedative,” she said. “You don’t strike me as someone who naps.”

  “I’m not here for rest,” I said. “I want to learn about magical healing.”

  She blinked. “You’re a first-year.”

  “I’m also not interested in waiting six years to know how to keep people alive.”

  She studied me then. Not like a child, but like a puzzle that refused to fit into the box it came in.

  “You’ve seen people die before, haven’t you?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “You handled Dawson like it wasn’t your first emergency,” she said.

  “I’ve seen worse,” I replied. “I’d prefer not to again.”

  She nodded once. “Fair enough.”

  Madam Pomfrey handed me a small booklet. “Basic Healing Charms and Potion Lore. Don’t damage it. That’s my st copy.”

  I opened it slowly, reading the titles:

  Episkey – Mends minor injuries like broken noses and cuts.

  Vulnera Sanentur – For deep wounds. Complex.

  Essence of Dittany – For regenerating skin and avoiding infection.

  Pepper-Up Potion – For colds and magical fatigue.

  Bone-Regrowth Serum – Painful. Use only if bones are lost entirely.

  “These will get you started,” she said. “Don’t go experimenting. Magic can heal — or it can maim worse.”

  “I understand.”

  “And Caelum?”

  I turned.

  “Don’t carry the whole world. You’re eleven.”

  I gave her a small, sharp smile. “You sound like my mother.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Back in the ChaosBy the time I returned, Desmond had cleaned his face, Jake was attempting to write a “will,” and Evie had taken Jake’s quill and spelled it to write “I, Jake Dawson, owe Caelum Rosier five gallons of Honeydukes chocote for saving my life.”

  Jake read it aloud like it was gospel.

  Evie winked at me.

  I sat quietly in the corner, book in hand, already flipping through the healing spells and comparing them — not to chakra systems, but to pathways in the wand’s intent. The threads of it were familiar. Not chakra. Not raw power. But something older.

  Magic didn’t obey the same ws.

  But it rhymed with the power I once wielded.

  Maybe this world hadn’t rejected me.

  Maybe it was just trying to teach me a new nguage for the same old dance.

  [End of Chapter 16]