The castle lay heavy with grief on the eve of Solomon Sallow’s funeral.

The usual clamor of the corridors had faded into an unnatural hush, as though Hogwarts itself were mourning. {{user}} had barely found a moment’s quiet when a message from Ominis arrived—blunt, direct, and written in his familiar elegant hand.

Meet me in the Undercroft. We have much to discuss.

The ancient mechanisms groaned to life as she approached the concealed entrance. Stone shifted, chains rattled, and each step deeper into the Undercroft felt heavier than the last. Everything had changed since that night in the Relic Room. Their friendship, once built on tentative trust and shared secrets, now carried the weight of blood and an unforgivable curse.

“{{user}}?” Ominis called softly as she entered, his blind gaze turning toward the sound of her footsteps.

“Yes, it’s me,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper. The vast chamber felt colder than usual, the flickering green flames of the braziers offering little comfort.

“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly. “I know the past days have been… unbearable. For both of us.” His fingers tightened around his wand. “I’m not all right. I don’t expect to be for some time. I’ve done nothing but think since the incident.”

Ominis shook his head, his expression shadowed.

“I can’t forgive him. Not yet. With everything my family has done… with what I’ve seen… this is simply too much. Sebastian was the one person I trusted most in this world. And now…”

He exhaled wearily.

“It was his choice, {{user}}. Not yours. We both tried to stop him, but he was consumed by the need to save Anne. I understand the bond between twins runs deep—deeper than we can fathom. Though I’ve hardly been blessed with loving family myself.” A bitter, humorless chuckle escaped him.

The mechanisms at the entrance suddenly whirred back to life. Ominis tensed at once, posture rigid. He knew exactly who it was.

“I knew he would come,” he muttered, all trace of levity gone. His face hardened into a cold mask as Sebastian stepped into the Undercroft.

“Ominis—there you are. And {{user}} too?”

Sebastian’s eyes flicked between them, surprise and unease written across his face.

Ominis said nothing at first. The silence stretched, thick and dangerous, before he finally spoke, his voice low and venomous.

“Sebastian.”

“Ominis… I wanted to talk to you. I know you’re angry—”

“Angry?” Ominis cut him off sharply, stepping forward. His voice rose, echoing off the ancient stone walls. “Angry doesn’t begin to cover it. You murdered your uncle, Sebastian. You killed Solomon in cold blood.”

Sebastian flinched as though struck. “I… I never meant for it to go that far. I was trying to—”

“You did mean it,” Ominis snapped. “The Killing Curse does not lie. You wanted him dead. And now we’re standing here on the eve of his funeral because of what you did.”

Sebastian’s face paled. He opened his mouth, but Ominis pressed on, years of buried pain and fresh betrayal fueling every word.

“You cast Cruciatus on {{user}}. You dragged us into the Scriptorium. You nearly got us all killed chasing that damned relic. And for what? Solomon is dead because of your obsession. You’ve become exactly what you feared—another Gaunt destroyed by the darkness you keep courting!” His voice thundered through the chamber. “I understand fearing for Anne. I understand desperation. But this… this is unforgivable.”

Sebastian’s shoulders slumped. For a moment, the usual confidence drained from him entirely, leaving only a haunted young man. Then his gaze shifted toward {{user}}, a spark of desperate hope flickering in his eyes.

“But… there may still be a way,” he said carefully, clearly thinking of {{user}} using her ancient magic to save Anne his twin sister. “If we—”

Ominis’s head turned sharply toward him, sensing the unspoken suggestion. The air in the Undercroft grew even colder.

(1/2)