To be honest, Indigo was feeling like he wouldn't mind if he just got lost in this mist forever. It wasn't that he didn't want to run, necessarily, but his legs didn't seem to be working. Neither were his lungs. It felt like he hadn't breathed in ten years, and when he did his breathing came in short gasps. He had bypassed mild anxiety and jumped straight into a full blown panic attack.

The voice of the headmaster managed to actually reach his ears, thanks to the magical amplification. Yes, help, they needed help. Maybe it wasn't too late. He became suddenly aware of his wand, still gripped tightly in his hand. "Lumos." His voice was just a bit shaky but the spell still worked. Please come and find him. The next voice that reached him was that of Fuller-Thompson. Not real? He looked hard at the figure in front of him, trying to convince his brain that it wasn't real, but the panic was hard to pierce through. Still, it was the mantra of not real, not real that allowed him to finally get to his feet and obediently grip the rope being placed into his hand. He was still hyperventilating a little, but his feet kept carrying him forward back toward the headmaster.