[Newt's POV]
I honestly didn't notice his collapse. I was too caught up in the book I was reading to witness most of the charade. How rude of me! I know. Scandal! It's preposterous for someone to not watch the spectacle with bated breath. Anyway, since the event was declared over, all the other audience members were filing out of the transformed colosseum, completely ignoring the body lying in what could be a lifeless state on the floor. That's the nature of such spectators. Only care about themselves and the latest action, being the triumph. Not the pain of falling over. Not the trouble of entering.
"Theseus!" I yelled, bounding down the stairs, "Are you alright?" A small circle of people surrounded the body, being Dumbledore, Leta, Henry and Amelia. I burst through the middle of them. I was his brother, after all. This once, I couldn't stand in silence.
"Newt, calm down." Leta placed a hand at my shoulder as I began to breathe faster with every passing second. My body trembled, too. The classic signs of an emotional breakdown, mine being both internal and external.
"B-But is he alive?" I blabbered, wiping my eyes from the fear of crying.
"I guess," Henry piped up, "He dropped to the ground. He'll come back." He faced me, rolling his eyes to the sky.
"We'll leave him here for now. I expect he'll be up in half an hour. Give him the time to let his vitals kick back into place." The Headmaster spoke philosophically, as per usual. "Just move on with your day, Newt, as if nothing had happened." He dusted off and straightened his robes, disapparating.
"That's my cue!" Henry smirked, "Peace out," He linked arms with Amelia, flashing out of sight. It was clear that Henry hadn't mastered the art. Destination. Determination. Deliberation. He hadn't splinched like the majority of students, but that tinged grey flash meant that something was wrong on their end. No matter. I had a bigger problem on my hands.
"What should I do?" I faced Leta, who was equally concerned. Or so I thought.
"I know!" she squealed, "Help me pick a dress for the Yule Ball! It's tonight!" she beamed. "We have time on our hands, and Theseus can wait… I mean, even Dumbledore said so!" Everything about her reeked of childish immaturity and naivety.
"Why aren't you being the bigger person here? This is my brother and your lover on the line!"
"I dunno..." she whined. "But I need a change of pace. Enough of this unoriginal drama and abhorrent tension. Just… chill…" she seemed to zone off in her mind, staring at a particular cloud in the forever-extending atmosphere.
"You need him for the ball!" The realisation struck. Her head jerked downwards, eyes pulsing with shock. "The champions go first! And… ours is… like this." I gestured to the, as expected, limp body.
"Ok…" Her eyes narrowed, "Got it. While he lies there, why don't we practice? You can't leave your date hanging!" She dashed over to the centre of the lush green grass. "C'mon, Newt! Lighten up a little."
I crossed my arms, breathing a sigh of frustration. All she wanted to do was swirl around in some enchanting form of movement, preparing for what could be hours on end. I suppose it could relieve some angst, and my body's like a stiff robot. I need loosening up.
"Theseus can wait! We'll have our eyes on him anyway." My mind conceded with a zing of excitement for some reason. The real world doesn't need to witness that, though.
"Fine… What's first?"
"The dress, silly!" Her whole face illuminated at my response. "You won't regret this!" She seized my hand and ran me down to the Slytherin common room, staircase by staircase, corridor by corridor, and she was lively all the way. I grew dizzier with each turn to a new part of the school, Leta dragging me at breakneck speed.
"The stairs trust me!" She said at one interval, only to have them spin in the opposite direction, meaning that there was a new path. More pain.
"Are we there yet?!" I wailed as I noticed the lights dimming around us.
"Yes." She opened the doors and jumped forward. I tagged along lazily.
The common room was calming but darkened, tinges of emerald light caressing the edges. She led me through one last door, door knobs shaped like small flowers. The others had something a smidge more grotesque. A coiled snake, a Basilisk, thorns, raindrops glowing red, even the Dark Mark on a select few. Her innocence prevailed over all.
"We're here…" I gasped, collapsing on an orange beanbag. Another observation. Her room was an artwork of warm colours, except for the white bedsheets, white draping curtains and lamps. Again with the purity. Why in Slytherin then, Sorting Hat? That's the question I have to ask.
"Take a break and I'll grab the dresses." A simple Accio and they were scattered on her bed. "Which one? The pastel blue, white, pink or yellow?" she asked. Fatigue had drained me empty of energy. What was I supposed to do? I don't know how to satisfy any girl, let alone her. I closed my eyes. "Wake up, Newt!" She berated, even though I hadn't fallen asleep.
"The yellow one," I replied with no regard whatsoever. It appeared that Theseus couldn't wait, because after the trek of a journey, the relentless questioning and chiding, he was all that mattered. Even Leta couldn't see that. Her simplicity blinded her.
"Alright, if you're not willing to do that, then let's dance." Out came her stubborn side as she hauled me off the ground.
"No, Leta…" I stumbled around clumsily, but she twirled me anyway. I'll admit, I don't know how to dance, so I took the opportunity with a hidden gratitude. One step, two steps, now a square! After a while, it was invigorating to an extent I had never conceived.
"Let's keep going! For a little while, at least..." My thoughts murmured.
"Having fun?" she smirked, proceeding to twirl me again.
"Yeah…" I trailed off, becoming dizzy from the constant circular motion. "That's enough!" I exclaimed, and she released her grip at once. I steadied myself from the fear of collapsing as my brother had. Of course, I had to persuade my friend here to go and awaken him. Not even his potential death evoked anything from her.
"Theseus. Now." I glared at her. She blinked back, but remained stationary. "Fine. I'll go myself." And therein lies the difference. Friends are just… companions. Families hold their values, whether it be loyalty, kindness or sacrifice. Blood is thicker than water. The experiment was solved. I navigated my way through the difficult halls, which appeared to be mocking my attempts by purposefully switching this way and that. When I had finally arrived at my destination, time passing like a hurricane with the sunset belting in beauty, he was still there. And even stiller, too. My heart raced at a million miles an hour. I had never been the rescuer in such a situation. I had always been a victim.
I bent down and shook him. Stupid, I know, but it was the only shot I had. If he hasn't got anything left, then he wouldn't react. He was growing whiter by the minute and I couldn't tell whether it was the frigid air or his gradual shift into desiccation.
"Wake up!" I whispered rather violently to him, continuing with my unconventional methods. I don't know what it was about him. Was it the fact that I cared too much? Was it his presence? Or was it just the crystal clear fact that we were bonded as family for eternity? "Wake up!"
I made a smarter decision to check for pulses, seeing as this Quidditch field was as deserted as desert gets. The wrist pulse was practically non-existent as much as it is in a living patient, and the neck pulse I had to re-evaluate several times. "God, wake up!" I pleaded, but it became more and more diminishing every time. No spell can wake the dead. Magic is too feeble. That was the first of five stages, the rest will tumble down soon enough. Dread churns in my stomach as I let time pass. A minute, then two, five up to fifteen, the sky slowly bleeding a bright swirl of yellow and orange. I'm practically wasting away here until he is alive, well and smiling with nothing but pure joy, erased of scars and hopefully, the unforgiving memories...
"Newt!" A familiar voice exclaims, and I can't help but scowl. She faces me, brushing some of her hair aside. "Let me talk to him. I know what to say. Give me a chance, will you? For all our sakes." Leta's eyes widened with the obvious puppy appeal. She might have something in the bag…
"Sure," I concede, "But make it quick." I scuttle away from his body and turn to face the rustic brick of the school. My ears desire to fine-tune out the conversation, but my overall mood prevented me from doing so.
"Nothing is working!" I screech inside, laying my head in my hands. The sky is now crusted in black ink with only specks of dust to light up the night.
"Lumos." I whisper, pulling out my wand. I let the light float above me, off the tip. I consider it as a quiet thanks to him and all he has done, for me, for Leta, the Silverliners, as well as his other friends who continue to lead gracious and prosperous lives. There is a shadow next to me. It isn't mine, or Leta's, or Dumbledore's, or Noelle's or Ameila's or anyone else's. It's his. He just sits there, beaming. A miracle, in my eyes at least. Water glistened softly in my eyelids.
"How did you do it?" I view Leta from behind as she smiles with pride.
"I just talked, really. Told him that no matter what happens he'll never be forgotten. That he'll be greatly missed. That if he is resurrected that everything is waiting for him, and that this thing happens to everyone. It's just the roller coaster of life!" She chuckled before mentally breaking down. The two of us hugged him like never before, and Leta indulged in embracing him with kisses. This time it didn't feel strange, because she had every right to smother him like that.
"Are you alright?" I ask him, face laden with tears, "Is this too much?"
"Not at all." He croaks back, clearing his throat. "I'm feeling better than ever." He wipes the blood on his legs with his hands, before collapsing on the floor again, only this time in exhausted snores. Leta and I share a small laugh, lying down on either side of him with one of the greatest comforts. We are all awarded miracles.