Chapter 11. January 11, 1891

Despite the late hour, the Slytherin common room was filled with students, trying to simultaneously finish their homework and chat with each other. Slipping through it unnoticed and disappearing through the corridor door was a breeze, and that's precisely what Sebastian decided to do. However, just as he was about to reach the exit behind a decorative column, Ominis emerged, blocking his path.

"Did you seriously think you could leave alone, assuming I wouldn't notice?" he asked, not hiding his annoyance.

"You yourself said you wouldn't come with me," Sebastian felt a wave of relief that Ominis would be by his side, but thoughts of what he might witness cut painfully into his heart.

"I changed my mind," Ominis answered curtly, turning towards the exit, as if he knew the way and would lead Sebastian, not the other way around.

They silently stepped into the dark corridor and, in the gradually fading voices from the common room, made their way towards the exit of Hogwarts. Today was Sunday, which meant that senior students could freely enter and leave the school grounds until midnight. However, during winter, not many took advantage of this opportunity. Ominis walked at a respectful distance from Sebastian, trying to show how much he disapproved of this idea. Yet, the fact that he was still here, by Sebastian's side, betrayed that he couldn't stand aside when his friend was planning something dangerous.

Naturally, Sebastian hadn't uttered a word about how exactly the relic was supposed to work. He kept insisting that he hadn't found that information in the manuscripts and that they needed to figure it out on-site. He was terribly anxious about things not going according to plan, but his even greater worry was whether the plan would work at all. Deep down, he understood the relief he'd feel if it turned out uncle Solomon hadn't read the note and Anne arrived alone. However, he knew that this relief would be instantly replaced by new concerns, tied to the need to rethink their next steps.

And if right now he was full of determination, the second time around he might just deflate like a punctured ball. With every step, the black bony fingers tightened around his throat more and more. Ominis, walking a meter away from him with an air of detachment and paying him no attention, was driving him to a desperate frenzy. Surely, he was convinced that some relatively minor unpleasantness would occur, that he'd spend a day or two sulking with a "I told you so" expression, and then, in the shadow of the crypt, he'd offer his neck for his kisses again.

For Sebastian, this ignorance seemed blissful, but that's what would make the unfolding events even more painful. The silence was driving him mad because the last seconds of their unquestionable happiness were slipping away. Yes, there were some problems, but still, happiness.

When they reached the castle's exit and Ominis began winding a scarf around his neck, Sebastian couldn't hold back any longer and lunged at him with a kiss. Squeezing his eyes shut, he persistently and desperately tried to memorize the softness of Ominis' lips, their taste, their pliancy, their warmth. Under the onslaught, Ominis barely managed to stay on his feet, luckily, Sebastian caught him in his arms in time to prevent a fall. Sensing an immeasurable desperation in this kiss, he attempted to calm Sebastian with his soft and gentle response. Yet, Sebastian only clung to him more feverishly, as if he didn't need a response at all.

Ominis' heart raced anxiously when he thought he felt a slightly salty tear between their lips. Until now, Sebastian had only cried from laughter. He pulled away and extended his hand to touch Sebastian's face, but Sebastian took a step back, out of Ominis' reach. "What's happening, Sebastian?" Ominis thought, but he didn't voice the question aloud, realizing that he wouldn't hear any coherent answer.

They stepped out into the crisp, frosty night, taking in its minty-pine aroma. For a moment, it seemed like the weight that had been pressing on their heads and shoulders was left behind under the roofs of Hogwarts. The moon shone too brightly, and the sky was too cloudless for a night like this. Absolute silence enveloped them, and the glints from the few windows that were lit at this hour danced on the powdery snowdrifts. Ominis listened to Sebastian's interrupted, trembling breaths, took a deep breath himself, and moved closer. Since he had chosen to be by Sebastian's side, why was he playing at disapproval? If he had already chosen Sebastian, why let him feel so alone? If he had been so averse to dealing with dark magic, he should have declined everything on that day when Sebastian asked for help with the scriptorium. The true wisdom of his actions would only reveal itself with time, but for now...

He took his friend's icy hand and squeezed it, hearing Sebastian's relieved exhale, his fingers pressing back in gratitude. And so, holding hands, they made their way across the snow-covered courtyard of Hogwarts, heading towards the fateful underground chamber.

***

When her uncle slammed the front door shut, Anne immediately dashed out of the room and flew to the window to keep an eye on him. Her heart was racing wildly, yet her mind remained cool. After all, she still had to find a way out of the securely locked house before she could follow him. Of course, he couldn't leave her trapped in the room, but it was his duty to make sure she didn't leave the house either. Putting on a warmer sweater and wrapping herself in a scarf, she tugged at the front door handle just in case, but, of course, it was sealed with a spell. So, Anne started moving clockwise through the house, circling all the windows, even the tiniest one near the ceiling in the storage room. Everything was locked with powerful magic, and her only hope lay in escaping from the basement.

Once in her uncle Solomon's basement, even before Anne and Sebastian moved here, giant spiders had proliferated. They had been a scourge not only in Feldcroft but also in some neighboring villages. They managed to get rid of them, but uncle Solomon didn't see fit to clear the basement of cobwebs and the chitinous remains of those creatures. After all, the space wasn't necessary for him and didn't warrant the effort required to clean it up. Since childhood, Anne had been terrified to enter it, although Sebastian often teased her by plucking some isolated spider part from there and scaring her. This not only failed to help conquer her fear but actually amplified it. So, if her uncle left any door unlocked, it could only be the external basement door, and reaching it would mean navigating through a spider-infested mess beneath their floor. Anne was prepared for this, as she had anticipated this outcome, although she hoped to discover an alternative route. Even squeezing through a window that barely fit her head seemed like a more appealing idea. Of course, there was also the possibility that her uncle had locked the basement door too. At this thought, something inside Anne seemed to snap. She imagined herself traipsing through spider remains, only to find out that she had to retrace her steps. As a couple of shells reanimated and turned into temporarily living spiders, the door leading back into the house would close, and the spiders would consume her alive in pitch darkness. Her eyes widened in horror, her palms grew sweaty, and a chill ran down her spine. But if there was an exit, it was precisely there.

Swallowing hard, she cautiously lifted the rug beneath which hid a wooden trapdoor. A nervous chuckle escaped her lips, but she resolutely pulled up the ring that served as a handle. The door didn't yield immediately, as over the years, the wood had expanded and contracted from moisture and temperature fluctuations. However, Anne eventually conquered it, revealing a square hole leading into the impenetrable, eerie darkness. "Lumos," she whispered, as if not wanting to disturb the dormant evil below, and cast light into the darkness, revealing the wooden steps leading downward. They looked so old and decayed that it was almost time to pray they wouldn't collapse under her weight. Anne carefully placed her foot on the first step, and a mixture of dust and sawdust crumbled down with a rustling sound. The dim light caught a desiccated spider leg stuck between the steps, and a wave of revulsion rippled down the girl's spine. Every step sent shivers down her skin, every crunch underfoot made her cringe and close her eyes in disgust. Anne deliberately avoided looking down and tried not to glance sideways, keeping her gaze fixed strictly ahead, on the coveted door, through the slits of which the moonlight barely peeked.

"They're all dead. Even if someone survived that massacre, they would have died in this basement after all these years," she quietly reassured herself, stumbling over remnants of spider nests. Then she heard a faint creak somewhere behind her. Freezing in horror for a moment, Anne let out a scream unexpected even to herself and lunged for the door, no longer caring about what lay ahead. She skillfully leaped over too large piles of remains. Ascending the stairs to the external door, she threw her weight against it, but it stubbornly refused to give way. "Come on, come on," sweat beaded on Anne's back, her veins bulged from tension, a stifled desperate growl fought through her clenched teeth. The door swung open so abruptly that the girl tumbled out into the clean, cold snow in the backyard. Without getting up, she scooted a bit farther away and slammed the door shut with a forceful kick. Her heart was about to leap out of her chest, a sharp cutting pain pierced her lungs, not allowing her to breathe properly, and her limbs trembled from strain. Her body was no longer fit for such dashes in the basement. But she was free, the starlit sky stretched above her, and her hair was gently stirred by the cool wind. All that was left was to gather her strength and stand up.

***

Discovering the entrance to the underground passage wasn't as challenging as they initially thought: after some thinking and wandering around the vicinity, the boys figured out that they needed to light all the torches around it in the right order, ensuring none of them went out. Initially, Sebastian expressed his frustration loudly when one of the torches hissed out just a second before the last one ignited, but eventually he found a spot from which he could light them all almost simultaneously.

"Who came up with this, seriously?" he rolled his eyes and theatrically covered them with his hand, "they might as well have made it a 'break 10 balls and you can enter' kind of thing."

Ominis smirked in response to this remark, which somewhat lightened the mood. However, the smile vanished the next moment, and his entire body tensed, when he heard the creaking of rusty mechanisms coming from somewhere beneath the ground. The sound was so deafening that the ground beneath their feet trembled, yet the entrance turned out to be quite small. Ominis couldn't even make out its outline with his wand until Sebastian got closer and pointed right at it. It wasn't even a door but a narrow passage, blending in with the bare branches of shrubs, which would likely have been indistinguishable if it were spring or summer. Sebastian took Ominis' hand, and they squeezed sideways into the passage. They were certain that the wall would move back into place and seal the passage, as was usually the case, but it seemed the underground chamber was asleep and had no intention of reacting to their intrusion. Sebastian cast a Lumos spell and moved forward slowly, not letting go of Ominis' hand, even though it was uncomfortable to walk that way, and their hands were sweaty and constantly threatening to slip free. This physical contact gave him a sense of confidence and dulled his fear.

Suddenly, something stirred in the depths of the corridor, accompanied by malevolent rasps and the scraping of bones. Shadows were creeping closer to the Slytherin students, and the sounds were growing louder; it was evident that nothing good was about to happen. Sebastian let out a sigh, ready to wield his wand in defense. The darkness around them was pitch-black, and only the spell allowed them to see anything, so he waited for the monsters to approach before using magic on them. An acrid scent of decay mingled with the aroma of earth and dried leaves permeated the air. That alone was enough to understand that they were facing Inferi – reanimated corpses. The boys knew much about them from their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, but they didn't expect to encounter them in person, as Inferi were a very dark and dangerous magic that even the most notorious evildoers had refrained from using since ancient times. Apparently, during the construction of these underground passages, it seemed like a great idea to protect them with the aid of animated corpses. These creatures could only be destroyed by fire; no other spells, not even the unforgivable ones, could send them back to the afterlife. "It's a good thing I didn't skip that Dark Arts class," flashed through Sebastian's mind.

"Incendio!" he yelled, pointing his wand into the thickest cluster of creatures. Some of them began to writhe, engulfed in flames, and spread the fire to their companions. The dry grass beneath their feet caught fire, serving as a natural tinder. The flickers danced on the stone walls, and Ominis and Sebastian cautiously froze, waiting. As soon as even one enemy broke through the wall of flames, they would attack again. The undead started falling one after another, pushing the boundary of the fire closer to the boys. Their faces reddened from the heat, and they had to slowly step back to prevent their robes from igniting. Covering his face with his sleeve, Sebastian kept his gaze fixed on the burning bodies.

The blazing fire was gradually dying down, revealing a clean passage devoid of Inferi. The floor was littered with ashes, and here and there, tongues of flame continued to dance, illuminating the corridor. The boys quickly advanced as Sebastian noticed a source of light in the distance. Ashes lifted into the air and settled on their clothes as they walked over what remained of beings that were once just like them.

***

Anne, breathing heavily, almost ran towards the western entrance, hoping to catch up with her uncle, see him from a distance, and keep him in sight until the very end of the journey. Her main goal was not to reach Sebastian with his relic, but to keep an eye on her uncle, to prevent him from doing something irreversible. Somewhere in her heart, a foolish hope was growing that her uncle wouldn't be able to find the path to the desired underground chamber and would turn back, reconsidering his actions. But that wasn't the case with Solomon Sallow, who was stubborn and determined to reach his goal under any circumstances.

Walking through the deep, untrodden snow was very difficult, and Anne's pace gradually slowed down. Nevertheless, she tried to make short, swift bursts forward. Ahead of her, the gates appeared wide open. Anne froze, cast disillusionment charms on herself, and proceeded more slowly and cautiously. She assumed her uncle would linger at the exit, and she was right. She saw his figure examining a piece of parchment, apparently left here for her by Sebastian. Just as her uncle began to fold it to put it in his pocket, it ignited and almost instantly turned to ashes in his palm, scattering on the wind. Anne squinted in disbelief as she approached closer. "Why didn't Sebastian do the same with the note he sent me?" flashed in her mind, but the question dissolved immediately. Her uncle decisively followed one of the paths, and Anne followed him at his pace. Fortunately, her uncle wasn't in a hurry, as Sebastian would undoubtedly wait until the very last moment. His walk exuded unwavering determination and absolute confidence in his decision, and Anne didn't like that at all.

At some point, they turned off the nearly impassable path and walked among the trees that were gradually becoming denser. Her uncle would frequently stop to orient himself and take short breaks, while Anne was almost completely drained of energy, ready to collapse in the snow any minute, unable to not only continue moving forward but even to take a breath of air. Finally, they reached an area brightly illuminated by recently lit torches. Anne's heart raced even faster, nausea crept up her throat, and her head felt as though it had been plunged into cold water. She realized they had arrived at their destination. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, her legs wobbled, and she slumped down right under the tree where she had hidden, watching her uncle.

Clearly, her uncle recognized this place as he began to loudly curse, cursing everything and everyone from Sebastian to Salazar Slytherin himself. Doubts, anxiety, and disappointment were reflected on his face, illuminated by the flickering flames. For a moment, he thought that perhaps it would have been better to truly ignore Sebastian's letter and not come here, staying home with Anne. He did know this place, having seen its depiction in classified ministry documents, but at that moment, it hardly mattered, and he could barely recall anything about it, except that the relic stored here required a human sacrifice to function. Could Sebastian really have gone this far? Or is he unaware of this condition? He nervously rubbed his forehead; his head was beginning to pound from the events. A heavy feeling seemed to have been placed on his chest. He clenched his fists, almost crushing his wand in one of them, and immediately rushed into the dark passage.

Anne tried to get up and follow him, but she couldn't. Exhaustion spread through her body like hot streams, immobilizing her limbs. Fearing that a bout of illness was about to start, she pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree and began to breathe slowly and deeply, closing her eyes. She understood that losing sight of her uncle could happen, but collapsing unconscious in the darkness of an unknown underground chamber would be much worse. "Come on, regain your senses," she whispered softly, listening to the sensations in her body, to the faint wheezing in her throat, and watching the red and green spots that floated before her closed eyelids.

***

The main chamber of the underground lair was brightly lit by torches that ignited at the exact moment when the first infernals had burst into flames. For an ancient chamber that had not seen a human presence for centuries, it looked remarkably inviting. The floor and walls were lined with shimmering marble tiles, and along the far wall, meticulously placed in candelabras around the altar, were long candles that gleamed. The place seemed to be waiting for someone to finally bring it to life with a blood sacrifice.

The relic lay alluringly under a glass dome on the altar, glinting with delicate golden facets. Sebastian slowly moved towards it, holding his breath and unconsciously extending his hand. Everything within him trembled and quivered in response to the dark aura emanating from this tiny artifact. He felt vibrations growing more insistent in his head with each step, a sinister hissing in Parseltongue sounded louder and louder in his consciousness, mesmerizing and enchanting him. Of course, he didn't understand exactly what the inhuman voice was saying, but that didn't prevent Sebastian from being captivated by it. His lips parted as if he was about to respond, and his eyes seemed to see nothing else but the precious relic.

"Ominis, what is he saying?" whispered Sebastian, not even turning around to look at his friend to make sure he was still there.

"Who? I can't hear anything," Ominis replied, his voice tinged with caution, as he strained to listen to the uneasy silence of the underground chamber, broken only by Sebastian's cautious steps.

"I hear someone speaking Parseltongue. Probably in my head," Sebastian responded just as softly, as if afraid of scaring away the voice.

He approached the altar closely, gently lifting and setting aside the delicate glass cover under which lay what he had yearned for these past months—a tangible hope for his sister's recovery. With his fingers, he touched the metal facets of the pyramid, to which tiny skeletal figures, contorted in pain, were seemingly attached, holding each other's hands in their final moments of life. His fingertips tingled, as if a faint electric current had passed through them. Sebastian's racing heart briefly paused and then resumed its steady rhythm, while a wide, admiring smile spread across his face.

Ominis was genuinely scared when Sebastian asked him about the voice speaking in Parseltongue. He hadn't heard even a remotely similar sound. This voice, resonating only within Sebastian's mind, could say anything, cast spells on him, cloud his thoughts, and drive him to thoughtless actions. Ominis approached the altar, illuminating its contours with his wand, and ran his hand along the cold, damp stone, studying its surface. His fingers traced over the now empty receptacle where the relic had been placed aside, over some papers, over an open book with rough, dusty pages. His hand paused as it reached the edge of the altar, and then Sebastian's hand intercepted it. Gently and confidently, Sebastian placed his hand on top of Ominis's hand, which was holding the artifact by its lower part. Ominis's fingers cautiously began to explore the engraved figures and facets carved from the warm metal.

"Can you feel its power?" Sebastian asked with a smile, his free hand touching Ominis's face.

"I can. But it doesn't inspire me, Sebastian. It's very dark," Ominis replied, his hand gripping Sebastian's hand against his cheek. Suddenly, Sallow snatched his hand away and firmly gripped Ominis's chin, pulling his face towards his.

"Never mind. Once we're done, Anne will be healthy, and our lives will return to normal," Sebastian painfully kissed Ominis, leaving him somewhat stunned, given the inappropriate circumstances. Yet, he responded to the kiss carefully, trying to delay the moment when Sebastian would start studying the book and preparing for the ritual, whatever it might entail. Their hands continued to hold the relic, gripping it tighter, when suddenly they heard a sharp, harsh voice from the entrance of the dungeon.

"Immediately put that thing back in its place and step away from that damned altar!" it was Solomon Sallow, arriving just in time. Sebastian broke the kiss, offering a soft smile to Ominis's lips, then turned to his uncle, putting on a mask of surprise.

"What are you doing here? Where's Anne?" he shouted, holding his wand defensively and trying to push Ominis behind him. Ominis resisted, though almost futilely, as he wanted to position himself between the two in case a confrontation ensued. With his head slightly turned, Sebastian murmured through his teeth, "calm down, Ominis, or I'll have to immobilize you."

"Anne is safe at home. I came here for the last time to try to reason with you. If you immediately put the artifact back and come to me, I won't petition to have your wand confiscated. Do you even know what you'll have to do for this relic to work?" Solomon, taking cautious steps, advanced closer to his nephew.

"No, but I'll find out now," Sebastian replied unflinchingly, gesturing his wand towards the folio lying behind him. Ominis attempted to break free once more, but Sebastian quickly stepped back, forcefully pushing him against the altar, pressing him painfully with his lower back. With a swift and precise movement of his hand, he snatched the wand from Ominis and threw it aside. He couldn't afford to let Ominis interfere even for a second. He felt Ominis push him from behind and heard a muttered curse.

"Accio!" suddenly, Solomon yelled, aiming his wand precisely at the relic in Sebastian's hands. It eagerly leaped out of his grip, landing in Solomon's large, open palm seconds later.

"No, don't you dare! Depulso!" Solomon was sent flying to the opposite wall, releasing the glowing pyramid from his grasp. It seemed to have a life of its own, hopping across the tiles and rolling away from both participants of the scuffle. Fury ignited in Solomon's eyes as he got up from the floor, rolling up his sleeves and clenching his now-free hand, moving menacingly towards Sebastian.

"You damn brat! How dare you? Bombarda!" Solomon aimed his wand directly at Sebastian's feet, not to explode him, but to jolt him thoroughly. In the nick of time, Sebastian managed to deflect the spell, but still fell to his knees, unable to fully stop the explosive wave. He cast an alarmed look at Ominis, who stood frozen in terror beside the altar, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Solomon breathed heavily, gritting his teeth in anger and almost growling, preparing for the next attack.

***

Moving as quickly as she could through the dark corridor, Anne heard shouts and commotion up ahead. She let out a tired groan, realizing she hadn't made it in time, but she pushed herself to run even faster, using the last of her strength. The mere fact that she would appear in their line of sight might momentarily halt the fight. Barely lifting her feet, she reached the brilliantly lit opening in the wall that led to the desired chamber. She paused for a moment on the threshold, assessing the situation. On the opposite wall, right in front of her, she noticed Ominis, who was futilely searching the floor with his hands, trying to find his wand and somehow interfere with the escalating battle. The thought crossed her mind that Ominis never dropped his wand even during duels because losing his wand equated to losing some semblance of sight and the ability to quickly discern his opponent's position. Could someone intentionally have taken his wand away before the fight began, so he couldn't intervene? Sebastian? But why? She glanced to her right, spotting a heavily breathing Sebastian wiping blood from his chin with his sleeve, resolutely holding his wand before him. His eyes gleamed with a ferocity she had never seen in him before, an almost animalistic rage. For a moment, he seemed to glance in her direction, but she couldn't be certain whether he noticed her presence or if it was merely a reflexive movement. A few meters across from Sebastian stood uncle Solomon, yelling something malicious and menacing, undoubtedly trying to reason with him and make him stop. Anne took a deep breath, forcing herself to gather the last remnants of her strength, and charged forward, barely feeling her feet or the floor beneath them. She aimed to wedge herself between these two dear individuals and put an end to the fight.

"Avada Kedavra!" she heard someone's voice.

Anne didn't have time to understand who exactly shouted that dreadful, unforgivable spell. Pain. Sudden. Spreading rapidly from the very heart throughout her entire being. Her body was thrown to the side, and she felt herself collide with something soft and smelling of sweat and blood. She wanted to reach for it, but she could no longer control her hands. They dangled like whips alongside her disobedient body. She wanted to rise and step aside, but her legs refused to obey as well. They had turned into columns of cotton incapable of maintaining a vertical position even at the slightest movement of air. She wanted to look at whoever did this, but before her eyes lay infernal darkness. She wanted to inhale because if she couldn't do that, she would simply die. Yet, in her lungs, an ocean of hot blood surged, leaving no room for air. She wanted to scream and cry, but barbed wire had ensnared her vocal cords, and the tear ducts were clogged with pieces of dying flesh. Cold quickly spread through her body, and the last sensation she managed to perceive before her last feelings shut down was the terrifying smell of decay and endless night.