The stuff in his mouth tasted awful--bitter and pungent, and maybe familiar, like something he'd had a long time ago but couldn't quite remember. The taste lingered there after the liquid was gone, and he wasn't cognizant enough to think much past that. He was starting to feel vaguely numb in more than just his fingertips and feet--which either meant that whatever they'd put in his mouth was some sort of painkiller, or else the blood loss was starting to get to him and he was going to die soon. He hoped the former.

Theo was talking. He could recognize the voices now as his father's (a short sentence, something that sounded angry and rushed) and Theo's (much longer, panicked) but it took him a moment to make the syllables resolve themselves into words. He didn't know what Theo was talking about, but something was happening on his forehead--he could see the vague outlines of spells lighting off on the other side of his closed eyelids--and breathing was getting easier, less painful. Still painful, but less painful.

Theo was apologizing, he realized. Right. Theo had splinched him. Things were starting to come back, though it was still hard to hold on to them over the sound of his pulse and the numbness and the pain. Theo had splinched him because... Because he'd been at the Ministry. Right. Shit, that was right. Theo had stopped him from turning himself in, and he needed to do that--he needed to do that now, so that he was there and not here when the full moon came up.

He made an attempt at stirring (though how he thought he was going to get away from both his father and his brother, he had no idea) but the laudanum had started to set in, and all he managed was to momentarily raise his head off of Theo's lap, eyes fluttering open briefly, before he'd reached the limits of his strength and collapsed back down, drawing long, slow breaths.