The hospital wing is quiet and bathed in the pale glow of the afternoon sun filtering through high arched windows. Carlos sat stiffly on one of the hospital beds, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the floor. Madam Pomfrey was bustling nearby, her face set in a firm but kind expression as she prepared a potion. Fernando stood a little distance away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Carlos’ shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up, faint but raw scratches snaked around his torso. There was bruising along his collarbone, and despite his stillness, every breath seemed labored.

"You’re running yourself ragged, Mr Sainz. You can’t keep doing this to yourself- it’s a miracle you made it back here at all. There’s very little I can do with the scratches as they were caused by-" she cut herself off, but they knew what she was going to say. Wounds inflicted by curses couldn’t be fully healed.

Carlos didn’t  respond as Madam Pomfrey placed a goblet filled with a steaming, pale-blue potion in front of him.

"Drink this, dear. All of it." She sternly ordered him. She had a soft spot for him, she had since the beginning of his time at Hogwarts, but it pained her to see him like this.

He picked up the goblet with trembling hands and drank slowly. The potion seems to calm his trembling slightly, but his eyes remain downcast.

Madam Pomfrey gave Alonso a pointed look, her lips pressed into a thin line, before retreating into her office to give them privacy.

"You shouldn’t be here like this, Carlos. You shouldn’t have to keep ending up in this bed, broken and hurting."

His fingers tightened around the now-empty goblet as his head dipped lower. His voice, when he spoke, was barely above a whisper. "But I always do, don’t I? Every month. Every time."

Fernando took a hesitant step closer, his usual firm presence softened by something fragile in his expression. "You don’t deserve this. None of it. And you certainly shouldn’t have to face it alone."

Carlos let out a weak, humorless laugh, though it came out more like a sharp exhale. "But I do. That’s the thing, isn’t it? I have to face it alone because no one else can. Not you, not Madam Pomfrey, not Lando or Oscar- no one." He finally looked up, his pale eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I see how they look at me when they know. When they really know. Like I’m something broken. Something dangerous. Something to be… managed."

Fernando’s face crumpled briefly before he masked it again, his voice cracking slightly. "That’s not true, Carlitos. Not here. Not with me."

He shook his head slowly, lips quivering as he spoke again. "You can say that, but I still see it sometimes. Even with you. Even when you try to hide it. You pity me. And I- I can’t blame you for it because I pity myself too." He looked down at his scratched hands, his shoulders hunching further as if he were trying to fold in on himself. "I’m so tired, Nando. I’m so… tired of this. Of all of it."

Fernando’s expression shattered as he stepped forward and carefully rested a hand on hi’s shoulder. "You’re one of the bravest students I’ve ever known, Carlitos. Bravery isn’t loud, and it’s not always about fighting. Sometimes, it’s just surviving. And every month, you do that. But you don’t have to do it alone- not anymore."

Carlos closed his eyes tightly, a single tear slipping down his cheek as his shoulders shook faintly.

Neither spoke for a while, the silence heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Outside the hospital wing doors, Lando paced back and forth, his expression a mix of frustration, guilt, and worry. His fists were clenched, his gaze periodically flickering toward the closed doors.

Oscar approached from down the hall, his hands shoved into his pockets and his expression carefully neutral. "He’s still in there?"

Lando nodded, barely glancing up. "Yeah. Madam Pomfrey’s with him. And Professor Alonso. I… I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have pushed him."

Oscar leant against the wall beside him, studying him carefully. "No, you were right to. He needs help, even if he doesn’t want to admit it."

Lando stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping slightly. "But he looked at me like… like I betrayed him."

Oscar paused, his gaze flicking toward the hospital wing doors. "Sometimes, the hardest thing you can do for someone you care about is push them to get the help they need. Even if they hate you for it." The two fall into silence, both staring at the closed doors as faint murmurs drift from within.

After a while, Fernando left and it was time for Lando and Oscar to enter, though they were strict to one at a time. "You go first. I’ll… wait outside." Oscar glanced at Lando, surprised, but nodded. Lando cast one last lingering look through the doors before turning and slipping away.

Carlos sat propped up against his pillows, staring out the window at the darkening sky. His face had regained some of its usual tan however his eyes were hollow with exhaustion. Bandages peeked out from under the loose sleeves of his hospital clothes, his hair hung limply over his forehead.

The silence between him and Oscar stretched uncomfortably as he lingered by the side of the bed. "You look… better,” he said awkwardly, “Well, not better better, but… less like death warmed over, I guess."

Carlos gave a tired snort of laughter, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, I think."

Oscar hesitated before pulling a chair closer to Carlos' bed, sitting down. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know, I’ve been thinking about… everything. That night. And about you. And… I’m not going to lie, I’m scared. For you."

Carlos flinched slightly at those words, his gaze dropping to his lap. "You shouldn’t be."

"But I am. And I’m not sorry about it." The two boys sat in silence for a moment before Oscar glanced at the faint glimpse of bandages peeking out from his sleeve. His brow furrowed, and he hesitated before speaking. "Can I… ask about the injuries? About what happened to you?"

Carlos froze, his fingers curling into the blanket as his shoulders tensed. For a moment, Oscar thought he’d crossed a line, but then he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

"It’s… part of it. Every time. It’s always like this. Hurts more some nights than others. Sometimes it’s over before I even realize it, and sometimes it feels like it lasts forever. This… I think this was one of the worst moons."

Oscar swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he processed his words.
"And… after? When it’s over? Does anyone… help? Madam Pomfrey..?"

"Madam Pomfrey usually does, sí. She… she knows. She and Nando- Professor Alonso the only ones who know. Or, well… were."

Oscar’s face contorted briefly with guilt, but he pushed it down. "Is it always this bad? The scratches, the bruises?"

Carlos hesitated before pulling back his sleeve slightly, revealing faint but deep red lines criss-crossing his forearm, surrounded by faded bruises. Oscar inhaled sharply, his eyes flickering between the wounds and Carlos' face.

"Sometimes I do it to myself. Without realizing it. Sometimes it just… happens. I can’t control it… the wolf… it’s- trapped."

Oscar reached out, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before he pulled it back to his lap. "You shouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Carlos let out a broken laugh, his head dropping forward slightly. "But I do. I always have. And now you know, and… and I don’t even know what that means for you."

Oscar’s expression hardened with determination as he leaned closer. "It means you’re not alone anymore. It means I know, and I care, and I’m not going to let you just… keep carrying all of this by yourself. And I don’t care if you hate me for it, or if you think you’re better off alone- I’m here now. And I’m staying."

Carlos’ lip trembled as he stared at Oscar, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But what if- what if you change your mind? What if one day you can’t look at me without seeing that side of me?"

Oscar shook his head firmly. "That’s not going to happen. I promise you. You’re still you. The same stubborn, quidditch star, sarcastic idiot I’ve always known. And nothing is going to change that."

A choked sob escaped Carlos’ throat as he turned his head away, biting down on his lip in a futile attempt to stifle his tears. Oscar hesitated for only a moment before reaching out, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "I’m here, okay? And I’m not going anywhere."

They stayed like that for a while- Carlos trembling quietly, his head bowed and shoulders shaking, while Oscar sat beside him, his hand still resting gently on Carlos’ shoulder.
Eventually, he gave a small sigh and stood up. "I’ll get Lando. But… if you ever want to talk again, or if you need anything- just say the word, alright?"
Carlos gave a small nod, his face still turned away, his voice barely audible. "Thank you, Oscar."

Oscar lingered at the door for a moment, casting one last glance at Carlos before slipping out into the dim corridor.

The door creaked open and Lando stepped in. He paused just inside, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his brows knitted together.

“Hey.”

Carlos’ gaze flickered toward him before quickly darting away. “Hola.”

“You look awful.”

Carlos huffed a small, humorless laugh, staring down at his hands. “Yeah, well… that seems to be the consensus.”

Lando walked over, dragging the chair Oscar had used earlier closer to the bed, but he didn’t sit. He hovered for a moment before leaning against it instead, crossing his arms. “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

Carlos let out a faint huff of air- almost a laugh, but not quite. “Depends on what you mean by ‘this.’”

Lando sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve been… you’ve been different. And I don’t just mean today, or this week. It’s been building up for a while now, hasn’t it? You’re… you’re always tired. You disappear without a word. And then there’s this-” he gestured vaguely to the scratches still visible peeking out from under the collar of Carlos’ shirt, "-and I’m supposed to just… what? Pretend it’s all fine?”

Carlos winced slightly at the mention of his injuries but stayed quiet. “I don’t get it, Carlos. I don’t get why you won’t just-” his voice cracked slightly before he forced himself to calm down, “-just trust me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

Carlos’ fingers clenched around the edge of the blanket, his head lowering slightly. “It’s not about trust, Lando, I have said this before. It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me. Help me understand. Because all I know right now is that I’m scared for you, and I feel like you’re slipping further away every time I try to pull you back.

Silence stretched between them. The lantern light flickered, casting fleeting shadows across Carlos’ exhausted face.
"You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” He sat down, ready to listen, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together.

Carlos’ lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he might actually tell Lando everything. But then his shoulders slumped, and he turned his head away, staring out the window.
“Fine, you heard the howls, no? Out by the lake… the ones that made you stop in your tracks and wonder if… if something terrible had happened."

Lando froze, his face paling slightly. “Yeah. I did.”

“You don’t want to know what those were. You don’t want to know what was out there. What… what I was running from. What I am running from.”

Lando’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came. His brow furrowed as he pieced together fragments of a puzzle he couldn’t quite see in full.
“You’re scared.”

Carlos’ shoulders trembled slightly. "All the time."

“Scared of what?"

“Of what you’ll think. Of what everyone will think. Of- of myself.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Lando’s face softened, his frustration melting away into something gentler, he looked like he might reach out, might bridge the gap between them. But he didn’t move. “You don’t have to be scared alone. Whatever it is… you don’t have to carry it by yourself. Nothing you could say would make me think any less of you. Nothing."

Carlos finally met Lando’s eyes, and for a moment, something in him wavered. But then he shook his head slightly, blinking back tears. “You say that now.”

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair before leaning forward, his elbows braced on his knees again. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Not yet. But please, stop shutting me out. Stop… punishing yourself like this.”

“Some things… some things you do have to carry alone, Lando."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration and sadness mingling in his expression. “I shouldn’t have said those things… in the dorm. About you not showing up, about leaving me out there. I was scared, and I lashed out. And I’m-” he looked down at his shoes before meeting Carlos’ tired gaze again, “-I’m sorry.”

Carlos blinked, not expecting an apology. His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak. “You didn’t deserve that. Whatever happened- whatever’s happening- it’s not something you asked for, is it?”

He gave the faintest shake of his head, his voice cracking as he whispered, “Joder. No. It’s not.” Carlos let out a shuddering breath. “I’m so tired. Of hiding. Of lying. Of- everything."

Lando hesitated for a split second before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Carlos. He stiffened at first, but then slowly melted into the embrace, clutching the back of Lando’s sweater like a lifeline. “You don’t have to carry it alone, okay? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Carlos let out a shaky breath, burying his face against Lando’s shoulder. “Lo siento.”

“Don’t be. Just… don’t shut me out again. Promise me."

He nodded weakly against him. “I promise.” Carlos closed his eyes tightly, a single tear escaping and trailing down his cheek. He nodded faintly, his voice barely audible. “Thank you, Lando.”

They stayed like that for a while, two broken boys finding solace in the fragile promise of trust and friendship. When they finally pulled apart, Lando offered a small, lopsided smile. “You should rest. You still look like death warmed up.”

Carlos huffed out a faint laugh, wiping at his eyes. “Thanks. You’re really good at compliments.”

Lando grinned, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I try. Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll come by tomorrow.” Carlos nodded, his expression tired but softer now, a hint of relief in his eyes.

As Lando walked toward the door, he hesitated, glancing back one last time. "We’re good, right?"
Carlos met his gaze, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips.

"Yeah. We’re good."

Lando nodded, satisfied, before slipping out the door. The hospital wing was quiet again, but for the first time in a long while, Carlos felt like he could breathe.