After the events in the Scriptorium, Ominis Gaunt had tried to believe it was over. That the cursed spellbook tied to Salazar Slytherin, heavy with blood, secrets, and dark promises, had been destroyed or at the very least, abandoned in the darkness where it belonged.

But dark magic never died quietly.

It lingered.

It pulsed.

And now, it whispered again.

The Undercroft was colder than it had been in months. The protective wards he and Sebastian once cast over it had long faded. Dust layered the edges of the old stone chamber, but Ominis could feel the shift in the air the moment he stepped inside. Magic that felt twisted and ancient clung to the atmosphere like smoke.

He followed the trail through the gloom, his wand tip casting a pale light over the stones. It was not difficult to find you. The magic led him straight to the source. You were crouched near the far wall, hunched over the very book he had once sworn never to open again. The glow of the runes washed your face in a sickly green hue, highlighting the unmistakable look of intense focus in your eyes.

Ominis froze. Dread clawed at his chest.

“Put it down,” he said, voice sharp and tight.

You flinched but did not look up. Your fingers traced a rune on the page. “It is not like it was with Sebastian. I am not trying to use it. I am just learning.”

“You sound exactly like him,” Ominis snapped. He moved closer now. “You think you can control it. That it will not get into your head. But it already has, hasn’t it? That book does not share knowledge. It devours it. And you with it.”

You closed the book slowly and turned to look at him, eyes calm but heavy with unspoken thoughts. “Ominis—”

“Why?” His voice cracked. “Why would you take it after everything we went through? After what it did to him? After the Scriptorium?”

“I thought it was destroyed,” you said, your voice low. “But I found fragments of it near the Restricted Section. Pieces. Pages. I realized it was still out there. And I had to see. I had to know. Then it started whispering.”

His grip on his wand tightened.

“I didn’t want this,” you continued. “But it showed me things. Not just about Slytherin, but about the school, about the bloodlines, about the Gaunts. It spoke of legacies. Of secrets even Professor Fig never spoke of.”

“Do not bring him into this,” Ominis said, each word coated in bitterness. “He is gone. He gave his life trying to protect the school from this very madness. He warned Sebastian. And us. Not all knowledge is meant to be known. Some magic should stay buried.”