- This chapter ended up pretty dark, but things needed to be said. I tried to keep it ok for the younger readers (I actually had to rewrite a good part of it, it was way too dark for this story). An important side of Nicholas had to be depicted and it took a lot more than I initially thought it would. If you're in a bad place right now in your life, you may want to skip it for now, the first part is not too bad, the second one is more intense.

I decided to put a marker () in the story where things become dark, and another one () when it gets better. I'll add an appendix at the end of the chapter to resume what has been said in the two parts in question for you to keep track.-

Chapter Three : The Past we Carry

"Wands out!" Said Nick at the students in front of him. "Today, we'll do practical work! Clean your desks, you'll need the space."

The Fourth-year hurried to put their books and quills in their bags, taking their wands out with pleasure. Practical lessons were always much funnier than theoretical ones. Nick took his own wand out and levitated bewitched quills in front of each student. He waited until everyone was quiet and ready.

"Today, you'll try to identify what kind of charm has been put on the quill in front of you, using all the methods we studied this past few weeks. Then you'll have to estimate from which time period your quill come from, and finally, you'll have to assess whether the enchantment was placed recently or during the object's creation and if it was tampered with since"

He turned and walked to his desk before adding:

"Take notes. I expect a twelve-inch essay for next-week's lesson." Mayhem followed his words, the students complaining loudly about all the work they already had. He waited for the calm to return, looked at everyone with a smirk and sat down at his desk. "You're losing time."

For the rest of the hour, four students asked him for help, one broke the quill and another managed to burn his left hand by misspelling a probing charm. Nick asked Demelza, her best student, to accompany her to the hospital wing. From what he saw, almost everyone was keeping pace.

At the end of the hour, everyone packed their belongings and headed off to the next class. He called Thaddeus to his desk to offer him some afterclass help to catch up with everyone. The boy accepted and they made an appointment for the next Monday. He was the only student still struggling, but he just needed a little extra support.

After everyone was out, he willed the quills back to their box and placed them in the black cabinet he kept for harmless objects. The quills were just charmed to spill ink in the writer's face, transform words into obscenities, cut parchment instead of writing… All worthy of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He heard someone knock on the door. Turning, he saw that it was Timothy, coming to report the progress of the Third-year.

"Timothy! I was waiting for you!" Said Nick, gesturing to him to take a seat. "How are you faring with your students?"

"Hello Professor. Everything is alright so far. I came to tell you that i caught up on the schedule at last" The young man responded.

"That's wonderful! I told you that you would find your pace, didn't I?"

"You were right. Well, I won't steal more of your time, I have work to do. Have a good evening Professor!" He said standing and getting out of the classroom.

"Good evening to you too, Timothy" Responded Nick.

He packed his books and parchment, locked the door on his way out and walked back to his office.

February was almost over, it was time to prepare his classes for examinations, especially OWLs and NEWTs, because Fifth-year and Seventh-year were a little behind. His subject entered OWLs only three years ago, and it was the second year of NEWTs.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking about the progress made since McGonagall introduced new subjects to Hogwarts education. "Magical Artifacts History" was a fancy name for "How to recognize and neutralize or destroy dark magic objects". The Headmistress thought it would be appropriate after the war. Voldemort's Horcruxes and a spate of cursed objects sent to wizards by rogue Death Eaters in the aftermath of their defeat had undoubtedly played a part in the decision of the school board to side with her. That and her unwavering determination to do as she saw fit, surely.

Ministry had no choice but to agree, since it was only beneficial to the greater good, even the more conservatives had no good reasons to oppose it. So here he was, Seven years in a position he had accepted for two. At first, he had feared that he would miss the travels, and he used to travel a lot, searching ancient artifacts for wealthy collectors, but he had found that he loved teaching. And, even if he used to make a lot more gold, he was still able to collect things during school holidays, and he was still offering expertise for identification and certification. All in all, his life turned out well.

But he was still feeling the pain of his loss inside him, crawling back from the depths of his being sometimes, ripping his soul apart. He had blamed himself at first, not being there to save his family. He knew, now, that he would just have died with them, he was too young to do anything. It had been his friend's parents who told him there had been an "incident" and he had to stay with them for a few more days. He had thought that someone was ill, and that he could soon go to see his family at St. Mungo's, but days turned into weeks, and no one would tell him more.

One night, as everyone was asleep, he sneaked out to his house, only to find it sealed. He broke in, visiting room after room until he found his sister room, turned upside-down, blood everywhere, her bed a crimson nightmare.

They had found him there, the next day, curled up on the floor. And he finally went to St. Mungo, only not to see his family, but as a patient in mental illnesses care, for he had almost lost his mind. Eventually, after weeks of care from the hospital personnel, he started to speak again. He was so angry, so resentful towards everyone. They had told him about what happened soon after his admission, but still with words like "something happened", "they're not with us anymore", "it happened fast". But what happened? Nobody had the courage to tell him clearly.

"...Nick?..."

"Nicholas?" Called someone from his office door he had left ajar.

He jumped and remembered he was waiting for Sunya. He stood and let her enter, making her seat in an armchair.

"Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts" He told her, sitting across the small lounge. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She responded, hesitating, before adding "You often seem miles away, lately. Everything's alright?"

He was going to say that everything was, indeed, alright, but then, he thought about how his relationship with Sunya had evolved since Christmas break, and how she was more a friend than a student now. It wasn't so surprising, at twenty-four, she was among the older students, and just five years younger than him. He thought for a few more seconds about how to respond, and took the road to honesty.

"I was lost in the past," He said finally. "I was thinking about my family."

"I see." she said. "I figured that's what was bothering you. You want to talk about it? You've said what happened to them, but you haven't talked to me about what happened to you."

Nick sighed profoundly.

"No, I haven't." He stood up, walked to a little cabinet just to Sunya's right and took out a bottle and two glasses. "Do you want a drink?" He asked her, pouring it anyway. He put it on the coffee table between the armchairs and slumped back into his seat.

"Firewhisky" He said before she took a sip. "Eighteen years old, strong, it's Speyside. Leave it if you don't like it."

She drank anyway, waiting for him to decide if he wanted to talk.

And then, he talked. He told her how he wasn't here, how everyone tried to keep him from the truth and how he found out. He told her of that night, when he went to the house that had been his home, how he walked on a broken wine glass in the living room and how there were pastries left on the kitchen's counter. He also told her of his mother's high heels, lying in the middle of the hallway, his parent's bedroom still smelling her perfume. They probably had just returned from their anniversary evening and sent the baby sitter home.

And then, the broken door, the blood on the bed, on the walls, the claws marks on the headboard, he could even still describe the smell of death. There was a mannequin in his sister's bedroom, it had been torn apart, the head laying on the floor, fang marks on the neck. Her clothes were everywhere. The window was broken, a curtain missing.

He explained that she must've tried to flee because he could see bloody footprints going from the bed to the door. And just beside the last ones, there was her old stuffed owl she had since she was a toddler.

He told her how he fell to the floor near it, unable to move, unable to cry, even to speak. Paralyzed. Broken. He had just lost half of his soul standing where his twin sister had died.

He explained how he was found the next day, by officers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and finally how they had put him in St. Mungo.

And he stopped talking, a lump in his throat.

"Oh, Nick! I had no idea… I never thought…" She stood and went to sit on the coffee table near him, laying her hand upon his forearm. "It must have been devastating. I'm so sorry you had to go through all of this at such a young age."

"It felt like my chest had been torn apart and someone had put coals in it. It felt like I had to burn from the inside forever. And I hated the world not to burn with me!"

He couldn't speak anymore, the memories had become too vivid. He needed another drink. He leaned forward, took the bottle, poured another glass, and took a long sip. Sunya was still silent, observing him but not pushing him. It was something he liked about her.

"I was committed there for a year. About my parents, they only told me they were found in the forest, killed by werewolves. It took me weeks just to be able to speak again. But eventually, I got better." He leaned back again in the armchair. "Then they found me a foster family, in France. Good people, but they had five children to take care of, so I was often left to myself. Oh, I don't complain, I was lucky not to end up in an orphanage."

He emptied his glass and finally met Sunya's gaze. Her eyes were full of tears and she was struggling to breathe.

"See, I made you cry! Quel idiot!" He said, purposely speaking French.

She went from tears to laugh in an instant. A rich, warm laugh. The kind who come from the heart and wash all the pain away. It made him feel so much better that he started to laugh with her.

He was, somehow, relieved that she knew now. Only a few people knew the all story, and even less knew how it had been for him. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron were the only ones to know as much as Sunya knew now.

They had been here for him when he had been at his lowest, and Harry had saved him from a lot of troubles! He was grateful to all of them.

"So now, you know." He said to her.

"Now I know." She said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "And I thought my childhood was messed up!"

"You care to share?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing half as dramatic as you!" She said with a shy smile. "As I told you, I grew up in a pureblood family, an old one."

She stood up to go back in her chair, pouring herself another glass of firewhisky.

"Indeed, you mentioned it."

"Well they kept some ancient lore alive. Wizards supremacists who make a sport of terrorizing muggles, breeding house elves for midnight hunting, dark magic and sacrifices, just name it, they're in!" She drank before adding. "They forced me to go with them, watch the hunts, watch them scare muggles by pursuing them with dead animals, or unleashing boggarts in their houses. I tried to resist when I grew up, but let's say they have means to let you feel pain, and they absolutely love to use them. Especially my crazy grand-mother Kralathia, this one is particularly evil."

"By sacrifices, you mean human?" He asked.

"Not that I know of, but who knows with this lot! Anyway, I ran away as soon as I could, but they found me in no time. I made a deal with them, I make no troubles, they leave me alone. But I have to keep contact from time to time, I'll have to go one day though, they'll make me. Crazy bastards!" She had spat the last words.

"But they had tortured you! It's awful, you can't go back to them, never!" He exclaimed.

"I don't know if we can call it torture, they don't keep the pain going, it's more like a correction." She told him like it was nothing. "Well, there's that one time the old hag had used Cruciatus. That felt really bad. That's when I fled."

Nick was stunned. She was delusional. He stood up so violently he knocked his glass from the table.

"Cruciatus? They use Cruciatus on you? What kind of wicked witch uses this on her own grand-daughter? That's insane! How is it not torture? IT IS the definition of torture!" He shouted.

"Nick, calm down, it's way behind now! I'm fine, I got away!" She said, standing now.

"Tell me you'll never go back?" He asked her, a hint of madness in his eyes.

"I won't if I can avoid it!"

"You must avoid it! At all costs!"

"You don't know them, they have a lot of power. They reach all over the world." She told him, her voice strangled. "I'm not sure I'll have a choice."

"I'll help you! If I need to, I'll hide you! Harry will help you too, he helped me. You have to tell him what you told me!" He said, speaking rapidly.

"Nick! It's ok! For now I'm here. I'll deal with it when I have to." She said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Promise me you'll tell me!" He said.

"I promise, ok? I promise I'll let you know!" She said. "Can we talk about something else please? I fear that if we talk too much about this, it'll summon them."

She laughed lightly, and Nick relaxed. They spent another hour discussing studies and the future. Sunya told him that after her examinations in senior courses of Magical Artifacts History, Advanced Arithmancy, History of Magic and Ancient Runes, she wanted to try and apply for a job at Gringott's.

"Oh, I definitely can help you with that! I worked with them in the past, I used to certify artifacts for them. I know Bogdok and Tkolbert, that one is very sensitive about how well you pronounce his name, they both work with curse-breakers, and I happen to know they could be in search of someone to identify and secure their acquisitions."

"Oh it would be wonderful! They are so suspicious towards wizards these days." She told him.

"They have good and bad reasons for it. But it's late, we shall talk about this another time." He said, repressing a yawn.

"You're right, I have to go anyway."

She walked towards the door, turning to face him just before opening it.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened to you Nicholas, I can't think of anything worse to happen to someone!" She said, her voice low.

"And I'm sorry for you, it must've been so hard for you too. But it is in the past now. What can we do other than carrying it?"

She opened the door and gave him a last silent glance before leaving.

Appendix:

In the first part, we learn about the circumstances of Nick's family's death, but more importantly, we learn that it still haunts him because he wasn't able to save them. We also learn that he discovered the truth in a hard way, and that he spent some time at St. Mungo after that.

In the second part, Nick talks to Sunya about how his family died, but most importantly about how it has been for him, and the aftermath of it. He gives a lot more grim details and we can appreciate the horror he had to go through since it was his twin sister.