Juniper is thriving in this new world. Just yesterday, she cornered me in the corridor, practically glowing as she recounted her ride on a Hippogriff. âYouâll love it!â she said, while offering to introduce me. I couldnât say no, not to her. Though the thought of soaring so high makes me sick.
I envy her freedom. She belongs here.Â
Sheâs happy. Free in a way I canât seem to be. I want to share in that, but something keeps me at armâs length.
And yet⊠There's Sebastian. Heâs the exception I didnât expect. If I had to imagine what having a brother might be like, it would be this.Â
The other day, we had a ridiculous argument about spiders. He called them insects, and I couldnât let it slide. His eye roll was so dramatic, I was sure theyâd stick that way. And then, somehow, we ended up debating Thestrals. Thestrals! Heâs as stubborn as Ominis claims, though Ominis isnât without his quirks.
Speaking of Ominis. He insists on helping me with Potions, though I hardly need it. I can brew a better Felix Felicis potion any day! But I let him, mostly because I can see how much it means to him to be needed. He asked me to meet him in the Undercroft tonight after curfew, his tone was unusually serious. It wasnât like him to be so⊠grave. He made me swear not to tell Sebastian.
I donât know what heâs up to, but I canât help but hope itâs not another prank. The last one was... memorable. We managed to sneak a Boggart into Sebastianâs trunk and hid in the shadows to watch his reaction. When it transformed into an Acromantula, he screamed like a first-year and nearly cried. Ominis and I still laugh about it. Sebastian hasnât forgiven us yet.
Thereâs something about Ominisâs request tonight that feels different. Whatever it is, I suppose Iâll find out soon enough.
Ominis spoke differently than Iâd ever heard him before. His voice was completely void of his usual air of superiority.Â
âYou didnât grow up with this,â he said, his eyes searching the air as if trying to meet mine. âThe traditions, the expectations⊠the weight of it all. You canât fully understand what it means.â
âI know enough,â I said firmly. âI know about the name. About the traditions. I know what people think when they hear it.â
He shook his head, his lips curving into an almost pitying smile. âYouâve only touched the edges of it. The Gaunt name⊠itâs more than just a burden. Itâs darkness. Itâs power. And itâs a choice.â
âIâve lived with darkness,â I said, with a slight edge. âI donât need to be reminded of what it feels like.â
âNo,â he said, âbut you need to understand it. Truly. And you donât. Not yet.â
I crossed my arms, feeling defensive. âAnd you do?â
âI grew up with it. Every day of my life, it was thereâin the traditions, the lessons, the rituals. The Gaunt legacy is more than just power, it comes with cruelty, control. And control by using cruelty.â__
âWhy are you telling me this?â I asked, I felt like he was saying all this to scare me.
Ominis turned toward me with an unspoken urgency.
âCome with me,â he said, offering no explanation.
âWhere are we going?â I asked, falling into step beside him.
âYouâll see,â he replied.
I followed silently, with the faint unease curling in my chest. When we reached a quiet corner near the Slytherin common room, he finally stopped, his fingers brushing lightly against the stone wall as though feeling for something unseen.
âThis is it,â he said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the unremarkable stretch of bricks.
I frowned, glancing between him and the wall. âWhat is?â
âThe entrance,â he said simply. âTo the Scriptorium.â
I gasped. âThereâs nothing here.â I said, feeling the cool stone under my palm.
âNot yet,â Ominis said, his voice quieter now. âBut there will be. Youâre going to open it.â
âMe?â I asked, my voice rising. âHow?â
âYouâll know,â he said, his tone calm. âThe magic will guide youâit always does, for a Gaunt.â
I hesitated, unsure whether to feel reassured or intimidated by Ominisâs confidence. As I raised my wand to the cold stone, I could feel Obscurus pulsing. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, almost as if the magic itself was pulling me, I began to tap the bricks in a sequence I didnât understand but somehow felt right.
The wall began to shift, grinding stone on stone. With a low rumble, it split apart, revealing a dark passageway that seemed to stretch endlessly into shadow.Â
I turned to Ominis, my heart pounding in my throat. âNow what?â
He gestured toward the open passageway. The corridor swallowed us in its shadows and the entrance behind us slammed shut with a deafening thud.
Ominis stepped closer. âNow,â he said, âyouâll see why I brought you here.â He raised his wand, casting a shimmering light that danced along the walls. The glow revealed a single word scrawled across the stone wall ahead, etched in dark crimson.
My stomach turned as I stared at the word.
âNoâŠâ I whispered, shaking my head. âIt canât meanââ
âIt does.â Ominisâs voice was grim. âThe only way forward is for one of us to cast it.â
He turned to me, emotionless. âOn me. Itâs a testâone of the many traps Salazar Slytherin set to guard his secrets. The Scriptorium only opens to those who embrace its darkness.â
I took a step back, my hand trembling as I tightened my grip on my wand. âThatâs madness. We canâtââ
âWe have to,â Ominis interrupted. âThereâs no other way. If we donât, weâll be trapped here.â
The air hung heavy with silence. My mind raced, searching for another solution, another way out. But the walls seemed to be closing in.
âI donât want to hurt you,â I whispered.
âAndromeda,â Ominis said, stepping closer. âThis isnât about what we want. Itâs about whatâs necessary. You think I want to do this?â
âThere has to be another way,â I insisted, desperation creeping into my voice. âThere has to be.â
âThere isnât,â his tone hardened. âThe Scriptorium was built to test us. To test loyalty, resolve, and darkness. This is what it means to be a Gaunt. You know that.â
I looked at him, as his stoic mask faltered. Beneath the determination in his eyes, I saw fear, and a silent plea. He didnât want this any more than I did. But he trusted me.
I raised my wand. âI canâtâŠâ
âYou can,â he said, stepping closer until there was almost no space between us. âAndromeda, this is about more than just the curse. Itâs about us. Itâs about proving weâre more than the choices we hate. Prove itâto me, to yourself, to him.â
The mention of Salazar Slytherin sent a ripple through my chest. The pressure around me became suffocating, my pulse pounding in my ears. The Obscurus stirred, restless and hungry, as though it knew what was coming.
My hand trembled as I raised my wand, every muscle in my body screaming at me to stop. I swallowed hard, my voice breaking as I finally admitted what Iâd been too proud to say until now. âOminis⊠Iâm scaredâŠâ
His eyes softened, though his expression remained resolute. âI know,â he said quietly. âBut youâre stronger than whatever fear youâre feeling. Iâve seen it.â
Stronger? My chest tightened. If only he knew what I was truly afraid of.
What if I lost control? What if the darkness consumed me entirely?
âI donât know if I can do this,â I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.
âYou will,â Ominis said firmly. âBecause thatâs who you are.â
His words steadied me just enough. I clenched my jaw, forcing down the fear that threatened to choke me. The legacy I had been so eager to claim demanded this.
With a shuddering breath, I raised my wand, my hand shaking, the spell ready on the tip of my tongue. The silence between us grew heavier with each passing second.
The spell lashed out, a jagged streak of green light struck Ominis squarely in the chest. The air rippled with the force of it. He crumpled to his knees with a strangled cry, his back arching as the curse tore through him. His hands clawed at the ground, shaking as though every nerve in his body were ablaze.
I stood frozen, my wand shaking violently in my hand. The jagged streak of green light lingered in the air, its searing glow imprinting itself behind my eyes.Â
It surged forth with a force that left me gasping, an unstoppable torrent of dark, swirling magic. I stumbled back, clutching at my chest as icy tendrils of power curled outward. But, unlike before, these tendrils were different. As they spread, they twisted and contorted, their ends forming serpentine heads. Their jaws snapped hungrily, their forked tongues flicking as they lunged through the air.
âKill,â they hissed, the word slithering into my ears.
âNo,â I whispered. But the Obscurus didnât listen this time. I couldnât control it, like I had before.Â
The chamber quaked under the onslaught, ancient dust and stone rained down as the air filled with their relentless chorus:
Ominis groaned, his body convulsing. The sound cut through the storm of chaos, grounding me enough to see him kneeling, vulnerable, his hands clutching at the stone floor. He was in pain. Because of me.
The serpents turned toward him, their glowing eyes fixed on their target. Their voices rose in unison: âKill him. Kill him.â
âNo!â The word tore from my throat as I stumbled back, clutching my wand tighter. The serpents hissed furiously, their movements growing more erratic as I forced them to retreat. One by one, they unraveled into shadow, their cries fading into silence.
The green glow of the curse dimmed, and Ominis collapsed, gasping for breath.
âOminis!â I dropped my wand, the clatter echoing as I fell to my knees beside him. My hands hovered over his trembling body. âIâm so sorryâI didnât meanââ
His chest heaved violently, each inhale jagged and broken. His fingers twitched, and a faint groan escaped his lips as he tried, and failed, to push himself upright.
âPlease,â I whispered, panic clawing at me as I watched him struggle. âJust stay still.â
Then, through the thick silence, his rasping voice cut through. âWhat was⊠in the room?â
Panic surged through me, âW-what do you mean?â I knew exactly what he meant.
âThat thing,â he said, his voice trembling. âI heard it. It was alive, Andromeda. It wasnât the curse. It was something elseâsomething dark.â
My breath stopped, and I instinctively pulled back. âOminis, Iââ
âIt was coming from you,â he interrupted, his tone firm despite the strain in his voice. His eyes seemed to fix on me, piercing through the haze of my denial. âWhat was that?â
His words crushed the air from my lungs. For a fleeting moment, I considered denying it, brushing it off as his imagination. But Ominis already sensed the truth. Heâd always had a way of knowing things.
And I trusted him. I didnât know when it had started⊠Maybe by the fire that night, when heâd shared the weight of his familyâs darkness with me. Or maybe, in Potions class, when heâd defended me against whispered slurs about our name.
It had been a passing comment, barely audible above the clatter of cauldrons. âCareful, Gaunt,â one of the Gryffindors had said with a smirk. âToo much time with him, and people might think youâre keeping it in the family.â
The implication made my stomach churned. I tried to ignore it, to focus on the potion simmering in front of me, but my fingers were shaking as I measured out the next ingredient. Before I could even formulate a response, Ominisâs voice had cut through the air.
âSay that again,â he said, keeping his voice calm, the kind of calm before the storm. The Gryffindor froze, startled by the sudden shift in Ominisâs demeanor.
Ominis tilted his head slightly, stoic but his wand subtly angled toward the boy. âGo on,â he said, his voice quieter now but laced with steel. âGive me a reason to show you what this name really means.â
The boy had mumbled something unintelligible before slinking back to his station, and Ominis had turned back to me, his expression unreadable. He hadnât said anything more, but his presence beside me had been enough to steady my hands.
The slur had stung, not just because it was crude, but because of how close it had come to the truth. The Gaunt family had always prided itself on its âpurity,â they would even intermarry to preserve their bloodline.
But Ominis had rejected that legacy. He had stood against it, against everything his family represented, and in doing so, he had given me a glimpse of something I didnât realize I had: a choice.
And maybe that was why I trusted him. Because he understood what it meant to carry a name like ours. He knew the weight of it, the darkness it demanded.
If there was anyone who could know this part of me and still stand beside me, it was Ominis.
âItâs called an Obscurus,â I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. âItâs⊠a wound. On oneâs soulâŠâ
I trailed off, my throat tightening. The words I had spoken felt foreign, as though they belonged to someone else. I hesitated, unsure if I could continue.
Ominisâs breathing was still labored. âA wound,â he repeated, with quiet horror. âHow⊠how do you have something like that?â
How could I explain? How could I put into words the years of repression, the punishments for things I couldnât control, the way the magic within me had twisted into something so raw and volatile?Â
âIt forms when magic is forced to hide,â I said with my voice shaking. âPunished for being what we are...â
He didnât speak immediately, but I could see the understanding settle over him. His silence pressed against me, a question he didnât need to ask: Who punished you?
âI was raised by a woman who hated me,â I replied, the warmth of tears on my cheeks now. âShe thought I was⊠a parasite. And she treated me like one.â
The weight of his attention pressed on me, urging me to continue.
âShe said I was the reason my mother died,â I whispered, my chest tightening with each word. âHer best friendâgone because of me. And so she took me in, not out of love, but out of some twisted sense of duty. But she couldnât stand the sight of me. She hated everything I was. Every time I showed magic, sheâŠâ My voice faltered.
Ominisâs hand twitched, and I saw his jaw clench. He didnât speak, didnât press me, but his silence was loud enough to make me stumble forward.
âShe locked me away when she couldnât handle it. Told me I was worthless, unlovableââ My breath caught as I continued, âAnd for a long time, I believed her. She made me believe her.â
My vision blurred as the words escaped me, memories I had buried for so long, now surfacing in fragments. âI tried to suppress it. To suppress me. But the more I pushed it down, the stronger it became. The anger, the magic, the resentmentâit all turned into⊠into this.â
My voice dropped. âIt became an Obscurus.â
Ominis shifted again, his hand reaching for mine. âAndromeda,â he said quietly. âNone of this was your fault.â
I stiffened, pulling my hand back, though I didnât let go. âItâs done that before,â I said, changing the subject. âIt feeds on emotion⊠I can usually control it, but⊠this time, I couldnât.â
He didnât interrupt, even as my voice wavered. âIt felt different this time,â I admitted. âLike it was feeding on something else...â
I dared to glance at him then, his features etched with lingering pain. His hand tightened around mine, steadying me despite everything.
The realization sent a chill through me. The darkness within me had recognized the Scriptoriumâs power, and had latched onto it like a parasite.
I fought the rising tide of guilt. âIâm sorry,â I said finally, the words werenât enough.
He shifted, wincing as he tried to sit up. âHelp me up,â he murmured.
I helped him to his feet, and I could see he was still in pain as he steadied himself.
âWe should stop,â I said softly. âYouâre hurt.â
âNo,â he said firmly. âWeâve come too far.â
Then I saw the wall before us, once solid, had split open to reveal an arched doorway, framed in carved stone that gleamed with an otherworldly glow.
Serpents coiled forms lined the arch, emeralds glinted in their eyes. It was unsettling, as though the serpents were watching us, judging our worthiness to enter.
Ominisâs brows furrowed as though he could sense it too. âWhat⊠what is it?â he asked.
âA doorway,â I said in a whisper. âItâs lined with serpents. Their eyes⊠theyâre emeralds.â
He nodded faintly. âSlytherinâs mark,â he murmured. âThe Gauntsâ legacy.â
The Obscurus stirred again. Ominis straightened beside me. âAre you ready?â he asked, his voice steady despite the faint tremor of pain beneath it.
I hesitated. âYes,â I whispered.
With Ominis at my side, his steady presence grounding me, we stepped across the threshold into the darkness.