Chapter 13. January 12, 1891

Knock. Silence. Strike. Silence. Sigh. A pulsating throb in the temples. Blood boiling hot. Sweat running cold. Hair standing on end. Roaring echoes in the ears. Parched throat. Time freezing in its tracks. Stale air, stagnant. Fog and smoke enveloping. A taste of ashes and metal. The fragrance of faded roses and dust. Sharp stones piercing knees. Madness clawing at the edges of the mind. Tremors ripple. Panic sets in. Distrust blooms. Reality twists, distorts. Fear creeps in. Dread. Agonizing pain. Self-loathing. Animosity for the world. Collapse is imminent. Walls shift, ground trembles. Nauseating dread clings thickly. Fingers tremble uncontrollably, consciousness convulses. A scream trapped within. Waves of nausea. Chilling shivers. The urge to hide, to go blind, deaf, or simply vanish. Thick ink clogs veins, heart pounds, darkness seeps through skin. A viscous abyss. A scream. A moan. Tears flow. A shattered universe. Past, future – all dissolved. In this moment, an attempt to breathe. The monster within erupts, ribs shattering.

***

Sebastian crumbled to his knees, gasping for breath. Pain had turned his lungs to stone, refusing even the tiniest intake of air. His vision was shrouded in a bloody haze, struggling to reach Anne's distant body, which seemed an illusion, a cruel deception. Yet, as he inched forward, she felt farther away. How had this occurred? Why did she leap into the fray? How had he not anticipated it? Shards embedded in his palm slowed his progress. A never-ending, Mandrake-like shriek reverberated in his mind, nearly obliterating his thoughts. The dungeon tilted like a ship's deck. His elbows splayed in opposing directions, incapable of supporting his weight. Knees scraped the floor as he fought to reach Anne and ensure her safety.

A crash. Beside Anne's lifeless form, a colossal figure collapsed, emitting an inhuman wail of agony. Sebastian extended a hand, almost grazing the edge of her skirt, but the figure pulled Anne toward itself, simultaneously slamming his outstretched hand with force, flinging him aside in disgust. The figure muttered something, but the words were incomprehensible. Something hot, salty, and skin-scalding trickled down his face. He extended his other hand, yet it too was swatted away, accompanied by a piercing scream. Losing his balance and strength, Sebastian crashed onto the marble floor, its coldness seeping into him. He clung to the fringes of his crumbling consciousness. What had he done? He had slain his sister. His sole, most cherished, radiant sister. He had gone to extremes to keep her with him, gone to unimaginable lengths to save her. And in the end, it was his desperate endeavor to alter her fate that had sealed her doom. No, not just his endeavor, but himself, with his very hands. He curled into a fetal position on the floor, forehead pressed against his knees, hands grappling with his hair, as if trying to tear it all out. Tears streamed down his face, making it hard to even breathe. A scream struggled to break free, but only feeble whimpers escaped. He wished he could die right at that moment too.

Chilled to the bone by fear, Ominis sat in silence by the altar, struggling to comprehend the recent events. The last sound he registered was an unforgivable curse followed by Solomon Sallow's desperate shout of Anne's name, which quickly transformed into equally vehement curses hurled at Sebastian. Despite being the farthest away from the turmoil, Ominis instantly grasped the gravity of the situation. What could he do? What was there to be done? Could anything be fixed? Yet, he knew that the deceased couldn't be revived. The agonizing ache of loss rent his chest, uncontrollable tears welled in his eyes, yet he fought to think. To plan the next step. He had to escape this place. He had to rescue Sebastian. He had to protect him, as Solomon would never simply let him go. He needed to push aside his convictions and his aversion to dark magic, for Sebastian was now all he had, his sole beloved person, even though he took away his second most precious person. Gritting his teeth, he finally spotted his wand on the ground and, with its guidance, located Sebastian. He had to get him as far from here as possible before Solomon regained his senses and acted. Grasping Sebastian's hand, he tugged him upward, but his friend crumpled back down like dead weight.

"Damn it! Sebastian, help me, help yourself, just a bit," Ominis whispered softly, his attempts to rouse his friend proving futile.

Sweating and breathing heavily, he finally mustered the strength to awkwardly sling his friend's arm around his shoulders. With a final surge of determination, he clutched Sebastian around the waist and laboriously pulled him toward the exit of the dungeon. Sebastian hung like dead weight, mumbling incoherently, making almost no effort to move his legs. As they emerged into the corridor's darkness, Ominis's knees wobbled, and he crumbled to the floor, inadvertently releasing Sebastian. Frustration surged through him as he slapped his friend's cheek with force, alternating between curses and sobs, urging him to rouse, stand, and move even a little. Sebastian's gaze remained vacant, devoid of any inclination to respond.

Ominis made another attempt to lift Sebastian, but he weakly crumpled beside him. He leaned his back against the cold wall, tilting his head back towards the ceiling in an attempt to hold back the hot tears. Quiet sobs escaped him, and he painfully swallowed the bitterness in his mouth, his fingers trying to intertwine with Sebastian's utterly lifeless ones. If only he had refused to open Salazar Slytherin's scriptorium, if only he had prevented all of this. Just walking away when he realized it could only be opened with Parseltongue might have been enough. Sebastian could have been upset with him for a while, their friendship might have even ended, but all three of them would be relatively alright now. He bit his lip, fighting to suppress the sobbing that threatened to burst forth. Poor Anne. She was the only innocent one in all of this. And she had met her end in this dreadful dungeon, at the hands of her own brother. The irony was overwhelming. Ominis burst into hysterical laughter, covering his face with his hands, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't stop, the laughter blending with tears. Sebastian, sitting beside him, turned towards him as if seeing him for the first time. His own lips trembled, and he began to repeat words of regret, offering apologies to his already lifeless sister.

***

Solomon Sallow's insides were ablaze. Pain and fury. Sorrow and hatred. He cradled the delicate body of his dear niece in his arms, a child who had been so close to his heart, a constant reminder of the brother he had lost not long ago. It was almost impossible to believe. How had he allowed this to happen? Why hadn't he immediately alerted the Ministry about Sebastian's growing involvement in dark magic when he first found out? His powerful fingers clenched the fragile, lifeless flesh that would never again belong to the vibrant, joyful girl who would never laugh, never cry, and never argue with him about Sebastian until her face turned blue. He was deeply attached to her, loving her as he might have loved his own daughter. And he loved Sebastian too, though that love was tainted by a steady undercurrent of disappointment and the fear that one day Sebastian's dalliance with dark arts would culminate in tragedy, just as it had for his parents. Now, true hatred and an intense desire to punish Sebastian for what he had done kindled within him. This wasn't the same disobedient boy whom Solomon had once taken under his wing, the boy he had nurtured and raised for years. The monster that had emerged needed to be locked away from society forever, to prevent further harm. Of course, he never intended to kill his own sister. Solomon knew he genuinely loved her more than anyone else. Yet, he had uttered that spell—the one no one should ever say, the one no one should even know. Slowly, a rising anger consumed him, pushing aside even the despair that had gripped him. His gaze never wavered from Anne's lifeless form in his arms. Blood began to boil within his veins, scalding his organs and compelling him to pursue the fugitives who had slipped out of the chamber. "And that damn friend of his, Gaunt, pretending to be so virtuous... Surely he influenced Sebastian's study of dark magic. Their whole tainted lineage is like that," thoughts echoed in his mind. With determination, he set Anne down gently on the frigid floor. She could wait here momentarily while he ensured Sebastian's capture. Firmly gripping his wand, he walked purposefully toward the exit.

***

Hearing the approaching footsteps, Ominis immediately fell silent and covered Sebastian's mouth with his hand. The gears in his mind spun at maximum speed, trying to come up with a plan that could help them escape this dire situation. If only that invisibility cloak from the childhood stories were real. The only option left was to attempt to deceive Solomon with a Disillusionment Charm. However, Ominis could only cast it on himself, and their primary concern was to conceal Sebastian, who remained entirely disconnected from reality, his lips still moving beneath Ominis's hand. They had mere seconds to decide.

Ominis nervously bit his lip, struggling to think of a better solution than attempting to bring his friend back to awareness and prompt him to say a single magical word to hide. He cupped Sebastian's face in his palms, pressing his thumbs against his lips, turned his face toward himself, leaned in as closely as possible, and spoke softly in his most soothing and gentle tone, hoping to reach him somehow. Eventually, Sebastian ceased his muttering and appeared to hear Ominis, reaching for his wand, which he mechanically stashed in his pocket. However, it was already too late.

In the rectangle of light streaming in from the main chamber, the tall figure of Solomon Sallow materialized, his wand at the ready. Ominis detected his heavy, panting breath and closed his eyes with a sense of resignation. Whatever action he took now wouldn't be of much help. He could attempt to cast a stunning spell on Solomon, but its effect would wear off quicker than Ominis could usher Sebastian out of the dungeon. Engaging in a confrontation would likely result in Ominis being defeated in less than a minute by the former Auror, for whom a blind schoolboy posed no real threat. Was it worth trying to engage Solomon in conversation to distract him, granting himself just a little more time?

"Uncle Solomon, please, reconsider before doing something you'll forever regret," Ominis implored, turning towards the man and positioning himself to shield his friend with his own body, hoping to forestall Solomon's immediate attack.

"No. Silence, you serpent spawn," Ominis flinched at the venomous tone, a pang of anguish shooting through his heart. At one point, this man had become closer to him than all his family members combined; he had always welcomed him into his home with joy. Yet now, he felt the contempt that he hadn't sensed since he left his parents' house, "do you think I'm unaware that you aided him in studying dark magic?"

"I..." Ominis stumbled over his words. Solomon's accusation was accurate. No matter how much he pleaded with Sebastian to desist, no matter how much he scolded him, he repeatedly succumbed to his influence, inadvertently pushing him closer to the brink. Ominis clenched his teeth, refusing to let himself shed tears. The pounding of his heart resounded loudly in his ears. He released a heavy exhale, struggling to find the right words, "I never wanted any of this. I love Anne just as much as you do. I love Sebastian. I tried to protect him from this, as much as I could. Please, don't ruin his life," his words tumbled forth incoherently from a heart that felt like it was hemorrhaging.

Solomon heaved a deep sigh. He held no interest in the futile attempts of this defective heir of Gaunt to influence the situation. His focus lay solely on Sebastian. His thoughts were entirely centered on how he would promptly apparate to the Ministry and surrender this ungrateful rat for trial— the one who had murdered his own sister and attempted to take his own life. The penalty for such a crime could only be one, and it satisfied Solomon entirely. Another stab of pain coursed through his heart when he realized that no punishment could resurrect Anne or bring back the old Sebastian. He clenched his fists, pushing the feeling away. He would allow himself to grieve fully once he had resolved this matter. Years of service at the Ministry had taught him that duty took precedence over emotions. And he failed to perceive that his current actions were driven purely by emotions.

"Step aside and do not impede me," he ordered Ominis, waving his hand dismissively, "I won't harm you if you do not obstruct me."

"I can't," Ominis murmured, gripping Sebastian's fingers with one hand and hesitantly pointing his quivering wand toward uncle Solomon with the other.

"Ominis, cease," he heard a quiet, hoarse whisper from Sebastian behind his back, "you won't be able to do anything against him, and you'll only get hurt."

"I'm just supposed to let him send you to Azkaban?!" Ominis nervously retorted, his composure slipping as fear and panic once again inundated him.

"Yes, that's where I belong, Ominis. Did I ever tell you how much I enjoy saying your name?" Sebastian's voice held a faint smirk, and tears flowed uncontrollably down Ominis' cheeks.

"Sebastian, please..."

"Step aside. I don't want you to suffer on my account. Besides, I do love you too," Sebastian weakly shifted and stood up.

Ominis's mind and heart teetered on the brink of shattering from the storm of conflicting emotions. He clung to the hem of Sebastian's robe, unable to utter another word. His joints seized with sharp pain, yet he couldn't release his grip. Then, with a gentle touch, Sebastian began to straighten Ominis's fingers one by one, murmuring something soothing. When he reached the last finger, he pressed Ominis's salty, moist lips against his own, paying no heed to his uncle standing nearby.

"How revolting," Solomon muttered, his quivering wand still trained on them. He stood ready to unleash a spell at any moment, just waiting for a hand to twitch in the wrong direction.

Sebastian gently moved Ominis away from him, brushed his damp cheek with his fingers, and walked over to uncle Solomon. His life was over; he was a monster who believed he could take a life and continue existing as though nothing had occurred. He had paid for it with his sister's life and now would pay with Ominis and his uncle, ultimately paying with himself as well. He extended his wand to Uncle Solomon, who concealed it deep within an inner pocket. He glanced towards the entrance of the accursed marble hall, where the relic was stored, where Anne's slowly cooling body now rested. A sensation as though several acid-filled spheres had ruptured reverberated within him, flooding his insides with searing pain. He had yet to fully grasp that Anne was gone, that he would never again argue with her about his silly jests, never wake her before dawn on summer mornings, discussing Quidditch match results with Ominis on the adjacent bed, speaking too loudly. He turned his gaze to Ominis, standing alone by the stone wall, wearing an expression of absolute incomprehension. His heart constricted, as if missing a few beats. Sebastian had been by his side for so many years, hardly leaving him for a moment. Now Ominis would have to learn to live anew, forge new friendships, construct an entirely different future. Sebastian regretted not kissing him earlier, extending their brief romance by a month, by two. He closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, striving to contain his emotions for now. If Ominis heard them, it would be much harder for him to move beyond all that had occurred. Sebastian was certain they would never meet again, except perhaps in the same room during his trial. Without uttering another word, he proceeded toward the exit of the dungeon, accompanied by Solomon Sallow, who, in turn, only turned back toward the shimmering light.

As he traversed the corridor, Sebastian discerned a faint rumble followed by the soft echo of sobbing, and his heart clenched painfully within his chest. His legs weakened, hindering his advancement. Despairingly, he considered rushing back and embracing Ominis once more, kissing him again, experiencing his warmth beneath his fingers. Uncle Solomon gave him a firm shove from behind, urging him to hasten his pace. Once they exited the dungeon and apparated, Sebastian would be entirely alone again, dissociating from his traumatized consciousness. But for now, he could still sense Ominis's elusive presence, scarcely warming his soul.