Only two of them left.

Why these two boys had slept so much longer than the rest, Albus had no idea. Nor was he entirely sure why he insisted on keeping vigil until they woke. He supposed that he felt responsible for their being here, in a way. None of the children had explicitly stated he was the one who had cast the spell that sent them into the past, of course. They likely would not know. Seeing as he was one of the few living wizards capable of magic on that scale, however, Albus was almost certain he had to have been the one.

The darker-haired boy had been restless and mumbling in his sleep for a few days now. Albus hoped that meant he would be waking up soon. No sooner had the thought drifted through his mind than the boy sat upright in bed, a panicked expression on his face, his eyes darting about the room. Despite being a touch startled, he managed to compose himself enough to reassure the body.

"Calm yourself, my dear boy," he said gently. "The battle is over."