Chapter 38: Consequences
"She was fun to play with for a while. Such a shame she chose the wrong side. I—"
"Shut up!" Jakob's voice cracked, raw with emotion, as he yelled, his eyes never leaving the still body of the girl who had just sacrificed herself for him. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his entire body trembling with the effort to contain the storm raging within.
Tom's glare deepened, his irritation flashing across his face, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. The sight before him was far too satisfying to cut short. Watching the boy consumed by grief and boiling rage was a spectacle he intended to savour. The torment in Jakob's eyes, the way it burned so vividly yet helplessly, was a masterpiece. And Tom Riddle was never one to destroy a masterpiece too soon.
Holding Amy in his arms, Jakob silently begged her to wake, knowing deep down she never would. One of her loose locks had fallen over her face, and with trembling fingers, he gently brushed it back as if fixing her appearance would make her whole again. The stillness of her features, so unnatural, made his chest ache in ways he didn't know were possible.
His mind raced with what to do next, but the overwhelming tide of loss kept him rooted. It wasn't just Amy he had lost—it felt like a part of himself had been torn away, leaving nothing but raw pain and emptiness.
He sifted through every memory he had collected, every spell, every lesson, every whisper of ancient magic, desperately searching for something—anything—that could undo this. A ritual, a charm, a forgotten incantation...
A ritual.
With a flicker of hope lighting up his eyes, he gently laid Amy's head on the cold chamber floor, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek as he whispered, "I will make everything right again."
He rose slowly with a calm determination. For the first time since she had fallen, resolve began to push back the crushing despair that had consumed him like a faint glimmer of light piercing through the endless void.
"Saliza, stay with her," Jakob commanded, his voice wavering despite his effort to sound firm.
Saliza, who had now returned to her snake form after feasting on the basilisk, turned at his command. Without hesitation, she began slithering toward Amy's motionless body. But as she drew closer, her movements slowed, her sleek form pausing entirely as she seemed to hesitate, her head tilting slightly as if sensing something was wrong.
The snake remained still for a moment, her tongue flicking out cautiously as she studied the lifeless girl.
"Why can't I smell her? What happened?" she hissed, her crimson eyes narrowing as they fixed on Jakob, demanding an explanation.
Jakob closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as the weight of her question was almost too much for him to bear. He couldn't bring himself to say it—not out loud.
When he opened his eyes again, they burned with a murderous focus, locking onto Tom, who stood just a few meters away, watching with a faint smirk.
Saliza slithered closer, brushing her tongue lightly against Amy's motionless cheek. She recoiled, her body coiling in fury.
"She is dead!" the snake hissed violently, her voice reverberating with wrath. "Rip him! Tear him! Kill him!" Her fangs bared, gleaming dangerously as she turned her full rage on Tom, who let out a low, cruel chuckle, savouring the chaos he had created.
"You are weak, Quade," Tom sneered. "You and your pet snake let your emotions control you. When I'm done with this transformation, I will take great pleasure in killing you both."
Jakob reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the red knife, its blade catching the dim light of the chamber.
"I really hope they tear you to pieces, Tom." Jakob's voice carried a cold, biting edge as his grip tightened around the blade.
Tom's smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched the blade press against Jakob's palm, a thin line of blood beginning to form. "Oh?" He started in a mocking tone, his head tilting slightly. "And who might they be?"
Jakob's glare burned into the older boy, but then, a cruel smirk flickered across his face. "I don't know who, but they're waiting for you in hell."
Tom's amused expression faltered, his nostrils flaring as he absorbed the meaning of Jakob's words. Before he could react, Jakob roared with all his might.
"Darkness, obey me!"
With a swift, forceful motion, Jakob dragged the blade across his palm, the sharp sting of the cut ignored as blood pooled instantly along the wound. The smallest symbol on the knife, an inverted pentagram, burst briefly into life before a violent explosion of crimson smoke and blood erupted outward.
It engulfed a part of the chamber in a suffocating, swirling haze. The force shook the ground, sending a faint tremor rippling through the chamber, making some of the stone ceiling fall to the ground, smashing into pieces as it collided.
The eruption didn't settle. Instead, it twisted violently, folding inward in an almost unnatural motion. The crimson smoke spiralled tighter, collapsing in on itself as if pulled by gravity. It formed a swirling vortex, spinning faster and faster before it disappeared entirely with a final snap.
Tom stepped back, the smirk wiped clean from his face. His gaze locked onto the floor between them, where the explosion had left its mark.
Burned deep into the stone was a massive pentagram, its edges glowing with an angry, pulsating red light. The symbol seemed alive, the glow throbbing rhythmically like the heartbeat of some ancient creature. It stretched wide across the chamber floor, large enough to encircle a grown man.
A dark, thick, curling red mist rose from the pentagram's centre. The mist hovered half a meter above the ground, its serpentine motion giving it a sentient quality.
The mist shifted, gathering itself into tighter coils as though testing its newfound form. It twisted and writhed in an unsettling, fluid motion like a living serpent. Then, as if responding to an unspoken command, it glided forward, weaving its way toward Jakob.
The younger Slytherin boy stood firm as the mist coiled closer, oblivious to the blood dripping steadily from his sliced palm, colouring the stone beneath him. Jakob's sharp green eyes locked onto the swirling haze as a deep, dark, inhuman voice emerged, resonating like a distant echo in the stone chamber.
"Why do you call upon me, heir of le Fay?"
Jakob glanced back at Amy's lifeless form, the faint trace of a broken smile flickering across his face before he turned to face the encroaching darkness once more.
"Bring. Her. Back. Now," he commanded with a low, unsettling intensity.
The mist shifted as it began to glide toward Amy's still body. Saliza coiled protectively beside her, the snake's sleek form tensing as the red smoky tendrils approached.
"This is wrong, Jakob." She hissed sharply. "It's evil. It cannot be trusted."
Jakob remained motionless, unmoved by her words. He didn't turn, didn't waver. His focus burned solely on one thing. He was desperate and burning with unrelenting hope that this would work. Whatever the cost, whatever the risk, he would pay it. All that mattered was seeing Amy's eyes open once more.
The mist drifted back toward him, swirling around his feet. The cold and ancient, inhuman voice emerged again.
"You carry my gift, child, so I will grant this… once. But heed me, never again. A price must be paid. A sacrifice. And you must act swiftly, before she slips beyond my reach, into the realm where even I hold no sway."
Jakob smirked darkly, malice and retribution gleaming in his green eyes as he fixed his gaze on the stunned Riddle boy. Slowly, he raised a finger, pointing directly at Tom. His voice dripped with venom and was full of hate.
"Take him."
The mist began to move, creeping toward Tom with an almost playful slowness. The older boy's composure shattered, and he raised his wand, firing curse after curse at the swirling red fog. Each spell passed harmlessly through it as though it weren't even there.
"No! Stay back! Get away!" Tom shouted, his voice rising in panic as the mist closed in on him, encircling him like a predator sizing up its prey. But just as suddenly as it began, the mist pulled back, retreating toward Jakob.
The young Slytherin's confident smirk faltered, his expression shifting into one of confusion as the darkness hovered at his side.
"Unworthy," the mist hissed in disdain. "The soul is fractured a mere fragment, one of a seventh, polluted and vile."
Tom flinched, looking momentarily affronted before his expression shifted. Relief flashed across his face, his grip on his wand easing as he slowly lowered it.
Jakob, however, felt frustration rising within him, his mind racing. He needed something—anything—to trade, or Amy would slip away forever. He considered offering himself, but he dismissed the thought immediately. If he did, it would all be for nothing. Tom would return, and Amy would be killed again before she regained her strength.
His desperate gaze swept the room before it landed on the red-haired girl. His heart sank, a pang of guilt cutting through him. Her family were blood traitors, yes, but did that justify this fate? No. She didn't deserve it.
Yet, he had no choice.
With trembling hands, he raised a finger, pointing toward her. His eyes filled with sorrow, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her."
Jakob couldn't look away as the mist began its slow, deliberate drift toward the girl. He wanted to—needed to—but he was frozen, his chest tightening with regret as the inevitable unfolded before him.
The mist returned moments later, encircling him briefly as the voice spoke again.
"I accept this offering, descendant of le Fay. But only this time."
The swirling mist shot upward without warning, vanishing through the jagged chamber ceiling. Silence claimed the chamber for a moment, but then a deep, guttural rumble tore through the room, shaking the very foundations beneath Jakob's feet. The pentagram began to crack, thin fissures spreading outward like blackened veins glowing with searing, molten red. The cracks widened and deepened, crawling across the stone floor until, with a deafening roar, the ground ripped open.
From the gaping wound in the earth, an unholy cacophony of screams, wails, and guttural cries of anguish erupted as though millions of voices howled in endless torment.
The sound clawed at the chamber walls, growing louder, each agonised scream higher than the last. The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh and sulfur, acrid and choking, as waves of oppressive heat rolled upward from the abyss.
Then, it emerged.
A monstrous hand clawed its way out of the fissure. The skin was blackened and charred, cracked to reveal raw, bloodied muscle beneath. Black, jagged thorns jutted from the scorched flesh, glistening with viscous fluids that dripped onto the glowing pentagram below. The fingers twitched unnaturally, curling and flexing as though testing their strength, the black claws extending like blades. Each claw scraped against the stone with a sharp, grating sound that sent a chill up Jakob's spine. The size of the hand dwarfed everything in the chamber, its palm wide enough to cover Jakob's chest, its fingers thicker than his arms.
The hand stretched upward, curling slowly before turning toward the unconscious Ginny, her fragile form lying defenceless in its shadow.
"No! She is mine! You can't have her!" Tom's scream tore through the chamber, filled with fury and desperation.
He raised his wand, letting loose a barrage of curses. Sickly green and yellow light jets streaked through the air, colliding with the monstrous hand. The impact made the grotesque thing flinch momentarily, the blackened flesh recoiling as faint scorch marks appeared along its cracked surface.
The hand paused, twitching as if in annoyance before it turned its attention toward Tom's ghostly form. Without hesitation, it swiped through him in a single, swift motion. The force of it seemed to rip through his very essence, and the older Slytherin's ghostly image dissolved into nothing, vanishing in an instant like smoke caught in a gale.
With Tom's banishment, the hand refocused its grip on Ginny. The blackened skin on its fingers cracked, revealing the flesh beneath as they tightened around her small frame, their sharp claws barely missing her fragile skin. Slowly, it began to drag her limp body toward the glowing upside-down pentagram as if savouring its prize. The cries from the fissure grew louder, more frenzied, as though they were welcoming her arrival into the abyss.
As the hand neared its goal, Ginny's eyelids fluttered weakly, a faint, pained groan slipping from her lips as she began to stir. Her lashes parted, revealing dull, glassy brown eyes clouded with confusion. For a brief moment, she seemed disoriented with her unfocused gaze before the reality of her situation struck her like a cold wave.
Fear flickered across her face as her eyes darted to the monstrous grip that held her. She struggled to comprehend the blackened, clawed hand that was slowly dragging her toward the horrifying abyss. A whisper of terror escaped her throat before it turned into a strangled cry.
"What's happening? Quade, what is…" Ginny's voice faltered, cracking as her half-lidded eyes struggled to focus. When they finally did, they widened in sheer terror, locking onto the demonic hand. Her breathing quickened, and her gaze snapped to Jakob with a heart-wrenching mix of disbelief and fear.
"Jakob, help me!" Her voice broke, trembling as panic surged through her. "Please! Don't let it take me! What's going on? I don't—" She sobbed, her words dissolving into a frantic plea as she started to twist and pull weakly against the grip.
Jakob stood frozen in place, feeling like the air had been stolen from his lungs. He couldn't look away, no matter how much he wanted to.
Ginny's wide, terrified eyes locked onto his. When the realisation dawned on her that he wouldn't save her, Ginny's expression crumbled into full-blown panic.
She screamed, her hands clawing at the cold stone floor with a sickening scrape, her nails breaking one by one. She didn't seem to care about the pain, consumed by the sheer desperation to grab onto something—anything—that could save her.
Ginny's struggles abruptly ceased when the hand reached the pentagram's centre. Her body stiffened, her eyes wide with terror as the foul fingers hovered just above her stomach. The hand moved again, unnaturally slow, before pressing against her skin.
Ginny let out an ear-piercing scream, raw with pain and panic, as the inhuman hand pushed inside her, its jagged claws piercing her belly without leaving a mark. Her hands clawed at the air, frantically grasping for anything to make it stop. She kicked and twisted, her voice breaking with desperate sobs, but it was futile. The hand didn't falter as it twisted cruelly, as though searching for something deep within.
Slowly, the monstrous hand began to withdraw, and as it pulled free, a faint, glowing light emerged with it. The light was small, fragile, and pure, the most beautiful thing Jakob had ever witnessed. Ginny's screams faded into choked sobs, her body trembling violently as the light was pulled further away from her. Her strength gave out, and her hands fell to her sides as her body went limp. Ginny turned ghostly pale, lifeless as death itself.
The hand sank into the glowing pentagram, its claws clutching the faint, flickering light as it disappeared into the abyss. The anguished wails faded into silence, and the fissure in the floor began to close, its jagged edges sealing themselves shut, leaving no trace of the horrific event as though it had never happened.
Jakob stood motionless, his chest tightening with every passing second until it was finally over. When the chamber fell into a suffocating silence, he closed his eyes, his expression twisting in regret. He had doomed her to a fate worse than death, and the crushing weight of knowing it was his doing... For a fleeting moment, he wanted to vanish, to cease existing in this unbearable reality—or perhaps Obliviate himself, just to escape the memory of what he had done.
He turned his gaze back to Amy, still motionless on the cold chamber floor. Saliza coiled protectively beside her.
Jakob rushed to her side, dropping to his knees as he hovered over her motionless form. His eyes swept over the girl he cared for so deeply, desperation rising in his chest as he searched for any sign of life.
"She should be alive right now. I don't understand what I…" His voice cracked, trailing off as the weight of his guilt and failure began to eat at him once more.
Then he froze as he heard it.
From the chamber's darkened ceiling, a slithering fog began to descend. It moved with an unnatural grace, curling in the air like living smoke. As he recognised it, Jakob's breath caught in his throat—a dark mist strikingly similar to his own darkness. But inside this one, faintly glowing, was something unmistakable. A small orb of light, just like the one he'd seen, pulled from Ginny only moments ago.
The mist descended slowly, almost reverently, as if it carried a purpose beyond his comprehension. Jakob watched a mix of wonder and hope as it slid past him, the faint glow within the fog pulsing softly.
As it reached Amy's still form, it hovered briefly before drifting towards her face.
The light and darkness slipped into her mouth, and slowly, Jakob could see the colour returning to his queen's pale cheeks, the faint blush of life creeping back into her skin. Her chest began to rise and fall with small, shallow breaths, making the boy laugh in joy and relief as he wiped the remnants of tears on his cheeks.
Jakob's eyes widened as he noticed her eyelids beginning to flutter. Her lashes twitched slightly, and then, as if waking from a long sleep, Amy's eyes slowly opened. They flickered with confusion before focusing on him, her gaze fragile but alive.
A smile broke across Jakob's face as he saw her dark eyes staring back at him, their confusion slowly giving way to recognition.
Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her, his tears falling freely once more—this time, not from pain but from overwhelming relief and joy. Amy's arms lifted weakly, wrapping around him as she kissed him back, her lips moving with a gentle passion that melted away her lingering confusion, if only for a moment.
But suddenly, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. Now sharper and more focused, her eyes locked onto Jakob's face. The flicker of confusion returned, shadowing her expression as if she were searching for answers she couldn't yet understand.
"I was on my way to move on," Amy said softly in a distant voice as if still caught between two worlds. "But then I heard a voice… or maybe it wasn't a voice. I don't know. It told me it wasn't my time yet, and then it pulled me back."
Her dark eyes studied him carefully, and she caught the faint flicker of something in Jakob's expression—guilt, fear, or perhaps both. A heavy knot formed in her chest as worry settled deep within her.
"Jakob," her voice shifted, quieter but firmer now, as her sharp eyes bore into him. "What did you do?"
Jakob's gaze shifted to Ginny's motionless body, lying lifeless on the chamber floor. His jaw tightened as he briefly closed his eyes, turning to look back at Amy instead, his expression a mix of guilt and desperation.
"I couldn't lose you. I wouldn't," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "So I… I made a deal."
Alarm flashed across Amy's face, her brows furrowing as she pushed herself up slightly, her dark eyes searching his.
"What kind of deal?" Her voice trembled slightly, but her tone pressed for answers. "And with who, Jakob? What did you do?"
Jakob swallowed hard, feeling how dry his throat had become, and nodded toward the lifeless form of the red-haired girl. "I don't know who," he admitted unsteadily. "But for your return, it wanted her." His voice broke on the last word as his eyes lingered on Ginny. "It took her instead."
Amy sat up slowly, a flicker of pain crossing her face. When Jakob reached out to help, she waved his hand away, "I'm not dying," she said with a sharp and determined voice despite the strain.
Rising to her feet, she walked over to Ginny's lifeless body, Jakob trailing behind her in silence.
"You sacrificed her?" Amy questioned quietly, filled with disbelief as she turned to look at him, her dark eyes hardening. "And you don't even know to whom?"
Jakob followed her gaze, his heart sinking further. Slowly, he dropped to one knee beside Ginny's still form.
His hand reached out to brush aside the red hair that had fallen over her face, but he froze mid-motion.
Her lifeless, glassy eyes stared back at him, and his stomach churned. He retracted it, unable to bring himself to touch her.
"I only saw a black hand," he murmured with a low and hollow voice. "It had claws… and it grabbed her soul, pulling it down to someplace i rather not go into detail about." He stared at the floor, avoiding Ginny's lifeless gaze and Amy's piercing one. "I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't let you die."
"So sacrificing a first-year to some… thing. Was that your solution?" Amy questioned in disbelief. Beneath her tone, there was something else. Disappointment, perhaps even a trace of fear, as her gaze bore into him, demanding an answer.
Jakob lifted his head and turned to her, resolution etched into every feature. "I'd do it again," he said with quiet conviction, giving her a curt nod. "I'd do anything to keep you alive. No matter the price."
Amy's firm expression wavered as she looked at the boy before her. The fire in his eyes, the desperation and love in his words, chipped away at her anger. She raised her hand, cupping his cheek as her lips curved into a small, tender smile.
"Thank you," Amy murmured softly before leaning in to kiss him.
"Always," Jakob replied as she pulled back, his hand clasping hers.
Amy's smile faded as her brow furrowed, confusion clouding her features. "How did you even know about this ritual? Something that could bring someone back from the dead… I've never heard of it."
Jakob sighed and shrugged. "It shouldn't have worked," he began with a low and uneven voice. "It was… a one-time deal. The thing on the other side told me it would only grant this because of my lineage."
Her frown deepened, and her head tilted slightly as her eyes narrowed. "What does that even mean?"
"I don't know," Jakob admitted flatly, his shoulders slightly sagging. His eyes drifted back to Ginny's lifeless body, the sight making his stomach twist.
Amy stepped closer and reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she turned his face back to hers. "What's done is done," she said firmly but with a warmth in her tone. "You can't change what happened to her. Don't let it eat you alive. Promise me."
Jakob's gaze faltered, his eyes dropping for a moment before he closed them, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. When he opened them again, he gave her a short nod.
"No one can know about this," he said finally. "This knowledge is secret for a reason, and now I understand why." His eyes darkened as he added, "This information dies with me."
Amy nodded, but her expression betrayed her. There was something in her eyes, a flicker of hesitation like she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to voice it.
Jakob didn't notice. His attention had shifted, his gaze drawn to something near Ginny's lifeless body. Lying beside her, half-hidden in the shadows, was the diary. It must have fallen out as she was dragged. His brows furrowed, rage flickering in his eyes.
"Stay here," he said firmly, releasing Amy from his embrace and stepping away toward the motionless redhead.
He crouched down, his fingers curling around the black diary. As soon as it was in his hands, something stirred deep within him. A cold, dark sensation that he knew all too well. It hungered. For a moment, he simply stared at the black book, the leather cover giving off a cool sensation against his skin. Then, a faint, almost inhuman smirk formed, twisting his expression into something unfamiliar, something dark.
"What's that?" Amy asked, her voice breaking the silence. She stepped closer, watching him carefully as he opened the book.
Jakob didn't answer. He placed his hand on the pages, his fingers pressing against the paper as if testing something, feeling the strange energy pulsing beneath the surface. His expression hardened, the smirk lingering as though he already knew what he was about to do next.
"This is where Tom Riddle dies." Jakob's voice was cold, dripping with malice as his hand pressed harder against the pages of the diary. He could feel the darkness inside him surge, spilling through his fingertips and flooding over the book. The sinister presence beneath his palm twisted and squirmed as if trying to resist, but it was no match for the raw power Jakob unleashed.
"Oh, I'm going to enjoy ripping your filthy soul into pieces." The thought echoed through Jakob's mind as his darkness enveloped the diary. He felt the resistance within it falters, then fade entirely, as if the book had stopped fighting, accepting the challenge and allowing him inside.
Jakob's eyes closed, but as they did, another pair opened.
Jakob stood in the Great Hall, his eyes scanning the space. It was empty—completely barren. The long house tables were gone, along with the grand teacher's table at the far end. The familiar hourglasses, which tracked the house points, were nowhere to be seen. Even the enchanted night sky that usually adorned the ceiling had vanished, leaving only an oppressive, endless blackness above him.
"You show a lot of potential," a smooth and composed voice echoed through the empty hall. "You even knew a ritual lost to time."
Jakob spun around, his eyes locking onto Tom Riddle, who stood a few paces away. His hands were clasped casually behind his back, and his regal posture radiated confidence as he offered Jakob a charming smile that didn't quite reach his cold, calculating eyes.
"I could have great use for you, Mr. Quade," Tom continued in a silky and persuasive tone. "I can teach you magic beyond your wildest dreams—magic that most wizards wouldn't dare imagine."
Jakob's glare stayed fixed on the older figure, but a slow, cruel smirk began to form on his lips as he listened to Tom's proposition. "You're scared," he said, his tone flat, almost mocking.
"And I'm going to make you pay for everything you've done."
Tom's charming smile faltered, the mask slipping as his expression hardened into a sharp, dangerous glare.
Jakob's smirk widened, his voice turning colder. "And I'm going to enjoy taking everything from you."
Tom's harsh and grating laughter rang out, echoing through the empty hall. His eyes flicked to Jakob's clenched fist, a mocking gleam lighting up his gaze. "What do you think you're going to do?" he asked loudly, his tone dripping with disdain. He raised his arms wide, gesturing to the space around them with an arrogant smirk. "This is my world."
Jakob opened his hand, and a dark mist unfurled from his palm, twisting and writhing like something alive. Without hesitation, the smoke shot forward, slicing through the air with unnatural speed. It struck Tom's shoulder, and instead of blood, a bright blue light flared where it had pierced him, the same glow Jakob had seen twice this evening.
Tom staggered backwards, his hand flying to his shoulder as a furious scream tore from his throat. The smug confidence that had defined him crumbled, leaving only rage and disbelief etched across his face. His glare locked onto Jakob, his lips curling into a snarling grimace, but the trembling of his hand, as it pressed against the glowing wound, betrayed the pain coursing through him.
"You? You're the—ah!" Tom's words were cut off as another burst of darkness shot forward, slamming into his other shoulder. The force knocked him to the floor, his hands instinctively rising in a futile attempt to shield himself.
Jakob's footsteps echoed through the empty hall as he slowly approached, his smirk widening with satisfaction as he watched the once-proud figure crumble before him.
"Wait!" Tom's voice cracked as he raised a trembling hand, desperation seeping into his tone. "I know things. Things about the darkness inside you."
Jakob tilted his head, his smirk twisting cruelly as his hand lifted once more. "Sorry? I didn't quite catch that. You'll need to speak up," he said with a mocking coldness in his voice.
The mist shot forward again, this time slamming into Tom's leg. The older boy's raw scream pierced the hall as he clutched at the new wound, not able to hide the pain any longer.
"You… I can teach you how to control it," Tom said urgently through gritted teeth.
Jakob arched an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement dancing across his face as he watched the older boy flail in pain and panic. "If you haven't already witnessed my control, I'd be more than happy to demonstrate it again," he said, lifting his hand and aiming it at Tom once more.
But this time, Riddle didn't look afraid. Instead, he let out a weak laugh, a sound that stopped Jakob mid-motion. "Do you really think that just being able to direct it is the extent of what you can do? When you've mastered it, it's so much more," Tom rasped, his voice gaining strength. "You hold a key inside you. I can show you the lock. I can show you the true meaning of your powers."
Jakob, unimpressed, rolled his eyes. "You're good at manipulating," he said with a dry smirk. "But I'm better at sensing bullshit."
The dark mist swirled and coiled, readying itself for the final blow.
"No!" Tom's desperate yell pierced the air, and in an instant, everything went dark, like someone had snuffed out the world's light.
Jakob felt weightless, suspended in an endless void. The nothingness stretched in every direction, and for a moment, he let it wash over him. "So this is your last defense, huh?" His voice echoed in the abyss. There was no answer, but he could feel it. He was close.
Raising his hand, Jakob summoned a small wisp of his darkness, watching it manifest and swirl at his command. He sent it forward, the mist cutting through the void like an arrow. The emptiness responded. From behind him, the wisp returned, soaring past his side before disappearing again into the unseen expanse.
"It's not endless," Jakob whispered to himself as he stopped the mist with a flick of his fingers, calling it back to his palm. He gestured with his hand, sending the smoke outward, scouring the void in an expanding circling motion.
Time lost meaning. Hours and minutes blurred into one as he watched the mist expand and retract, searching, hunting. Then, finally, something broke the monotony. A faint ripple of light emerged in the darkness, barely visible at first, like a crack in the fabric of the void. Jakob's darkness had found it, tearing through the unseen barrier that hid it, like pulling back a curtain.
He floated toward it, drawn to the ripple as the void around him seemed to bend and shift with his movements.
It looked so small and frail, flickering faintly in the darkness. Jakob floated closer, his eyes narrowing as he observed it.
"So this is what soul magic can do," he whispered in awe. His breath brushed against it as he came so close that his nose almost touched the faint, quivering light.
It was no larger than a pinhead, its glow faint and dim—nothing like the radiant, vibrant lights he had seen emanating from Amy or Ginny.
"It's a seventh of those two," he murmured, more to himself than anything else. The understanding dawned on him like a whispered memory, the words of the voice that had judged Riddle's soul unworthy now making perfect sense.
He had ripped his soul into seven pieces. That maniac, Jakob thought, his lips curling into a sneer as his gaze studied the fragile fragment in front of him.
Jakob slowly extended his hand, and the ripped piece of soul hovered just above his palm. The faint glow pulsed softly, and he could feel its energy radiating outward. It was powerful—far stronger than he expected. Even as a fragment, it carried more weight than his own ever had.
"You really are that strong," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he studied it.
The black mist began to swirl around his hand, coiling, preparing to strike. Jakob smirked, his gaze fixed on the fragile soul shard. "Now that strength is mine."
The mist moved without hesitation, snapping forward like a serpent. Each strike hit the soul, the dark tendrils pulling and tearing at its energy. With every lash, the glow dimmed a little more, the once-bright fragment beginning to fade.
"Take your time," Jakob whispered, his voice low and cold as his smirk deepened. "I want him to suffer."
His eyes glinted with satisfaction as the black mist continued its relentless strikes, each one tearing another shred of energy from the fragment.
The once-powerful fragment now flickered faintly, its glow barely visible against the oppressive darkness surrounding it. Jakob watched without blinking as the mist delivered one final, decisive blow.
The light vanished, completely absorbed, leaving behind an empty shell. It drifted aimlessly in the void, hollow and lifeless, like a discarded plastic bag lost in an endless sea. Jakob's smirk widened with grim satisfaction as he lowered his hand, watching the dark mist coil back toward him, its work done and seemingly pleased with the destruction it had wrought.
Jakob then closed his eyes, and his other ones opened.
He drew in a slow breath, feeling the surge of power coursing through him, his magic reserves now intertwined with Tom's. It was overwhelming, like trading a bucket of water for an overflowing bathtub. The sheer weight of it made his fingers twitch. Pocketing the book into his inner robes, Jakob stood up, brushed the dust from his knees, and smiled.
"What happened?" Amy's voice broke through the silence. She stood nearby, Saliza draped across her shoulders as her eyes searched Jakob's for answers.
He turned to her with a calm yet weary expression and gave her a short nod. "It's finally over. Tom is dead."
Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. "I heard screaming coming from the book just now. What happened?"
Jakob hesitated, the truth sitting on the tip of his tongue. Telling her he had just devoured a soul seemed… unwise. His jaw tightened as he mulled it over, but before he could decide what to say, distant shouts echoed through the chamber walls.
"Hurry up! We need to save her!"
"Harry, wait! There's a basilisk in there—just wait!"
The frantic voices echoed through the chamber, making Jakob and Amy glance at each other. Without even blinking, Jakob grabbed her hand. "Come on," he said sharply, tugging her toward the wall where the carved snakes marked the entrance.
His eyes scanned the stone surface until they landed on the cluster of snakes etched into the wall. He turned to Amy, his grip on her hand tightening. "Stay close," he said hastily, pulling her along.
Jakob hissed the password, the sound slithering out like it belonged to the chamber itself. The door groaned as he pulled the lever, the stone grinding as it opened. They darted inside the hidden Slytherin's office, and Jakob pushed the door almost closed, leaving just enough of a gap to watch.
Through the small crack, Jakob witnessed the four Gryffindors burst into the chamber, their hurried footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. They rushed toward Ginny's lifeless body, panic etched on their faces as they scrambled to reach her.
"Ginny!" Ron's panicked voice rang out as he sprinted toward his sister. Harry and Ivy were right behind him, their faces pale with fear as they closed the distance to Ginny's motionless body.
Hermione, trailing behind, froze in place as her eyes locked onto the hideous remains of the basilisk. The massive, half-eaten carcass lay sprawled across the chamber, its sheer size and destruction sending a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away, and rushed to join the others with hurried steps.
Ron dropped to his knees beside his little sister, his hands trembling as he shook her motionless body. "Ginny! Ginny! Wake up!" His voice cracked as tears spilt freely down his face, his sobs growing louder with every desperate attempt to rouse her.
Harry knelt beside him, his hand resting on Ron's shoulder as his wide-eyed stare remained fixed on Ginny. His mouth moved as if to speak, but no words came. The boy who had faced countless dangers now looked utterly powerless. Ivy stood just behind them, her fists clenched, her face pale, and her mouth slightly open as she watched the scene unfold.
They were too late, and the weight of that realisation hit the Potter twins like a hammer as Ron's cries echoed through the chamber.
Watching from the small crack in the door, Jakob sighed quietly before gently closing it. He leaned back against the door for a moment, closing his eyes to collect himself, before turning his attention to Amy.
Jakob's studied her, the girl he had watched die in his arms, now walking around the room as if nothing had happened.
She moved effortlessly, scanning the bookshelves with curiosity, having Saliza drape lazily over her shoulders like a scarf.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Jakob finally asked in a low, slightly worried tone. "You just died and got brought back."
Amy turned to face him, her lips turning into a warm smile. "I'm fine. Better than fine, actually." Her expression shifted, her brow furrowing slightly as if a thought had caught her off guard.
"I feel more… I don't know how to explain it, but it's a good thing." Her gaze drifted briefly, her fingers brushing over the edge of a book as her thoughts pulled her elsewhere. "And there are memories... but I'm not sure if they're mine or…" She trailed off, her expression turning distant as if she was somewhere else.
Jakob, slightly confused by her answer, frowned and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
Amy dismissively waved her hand. "Never mind. It's nothing," she said lightly, her smile returning as if to reassure him. But there was something in her eyes—something she wasn't ready to speak aloud.
The curly, dark-haired girl gently placed Saliza on the desk, the snake coiling lazily on it, feeling tired after the large meal and ready for a brief nap.
Amy walked toward Jakob, giving him a reassuring smile that silently said everything was right. However, it was clear he wasn't convinced.
He reached out, his thumb lightly brushing against her cheek as he wiped away a faint trail of blood from her eye, a memory of the curse that had struck her. His hand lingered for a moment.
"Can you tell me what you experienced?" He questioned with a more curious tone now. "After you died, I mean."
Amy pulled her wand from her pocket, giving it a small flick as she murmured a spell. The blood disappeared from her face in an instant, leaving her skin clean and unblemished. She sighed softly, her dark eyes meeting Jakob's, but hesitated momentarily before responding.
"I… First, there was only darkness," Amy began, sighing as she leaned her lower back against the desk, her arms folding loosely in front of her. "I floated around, screaming for you, over and over again. I thought you'd hear me, but then…" She paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she stared into the distance. "It was like someone heard me."
She glanced at Jakob with a thoughtful look as she continued. "Suddenly, I wasn't floating anymore. I was standing on platform nine and three-quarters." Her lips pressed into a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "It was all white. The whole place, just white. And the train was there, waiting for me to board it."
Amy pushed off from the desk, focusing as if she were trying to remember a dream that began to slowly disappear from her memory. "Everything seemed so clear then like it was meant to happen. I waited for what felt like forever, wondering about you—what had happened, if the fight was still going, if…" Her voice caught slightly, and she looked away. "If I might get to see you soon."
Jakob raised an eyebrow. "Hoping I'd die?" he teased, his arms slipping around her as he pulled her closer.
Amy softly chuckled, her hands resting lightly on his chest. "Nooo," she started, dragging out the word playfully. Still, her attempt at seriousness cracked when Jakob nudged her gently in his embrace. "Alright, alright," she relented, her face turning more serious though the playful glint in her eyes lingered. "I wanted you to kill him. But… if you did die, I wanted to be there for you so we could move on together."
Jakob tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "That's so messed up."
They both laughed at the absurdity of the statement. But before Amy could say anything else, Jakob leaned in and kissed her, his hand sliding up to cradle her neck. She kissed him back, her arms tightening around him, holding him as if she were afraid to let go.
When they finally broke apart, Jakob caught the far-off look in her eyes. Her expression, so lighthearted moments ago, now seemed distant, almost haunted. "Amy?" he asked softly, but she quickly blinked and looked back at him, a faint smile reappearing like nothing had happened.
"I felt something," Amy said quietly, her voice almost a whisper as she looked away toward the bookshelf. "Something that wasn't supposed to be there with me. And then… I heard a voice."
Her gaze shifted downward, her fingers brushing absently against the edge of the desk. "This inhuman voice. It scared the crap out of me, to be honest," she admitted uneasily. "It told me it wasn't my time. Then everything went dark, and the next thing I knew, I opened my eyes… and there you were, looking down at me."
Jakob nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. "The only thing that matters is that you're safe, here with me."
Amy's lips curved into a faint smile, and without saying a word, she leaned in and kissed him again.
Amy caught herself laughing softly as their kiss broke.
"What's so funny?" he asked, looking puzzled over her reaction.
"It's just… you said the most important thing was that I was safe here with you, and I couldn't help thinking about how unstable Riddle was. If he'd succeeded with his plan, he might've gone on a rampage, killing countless students."
Jakob's frown deepened, intrigued. "What do you mean unstable?"
Amy tilted her head, studying him for a moment before continuing. "You know my family's history with the dark sickness. I've seen it before, up close. And Riddle?" She hesitated, wondering why Jakob, who knew so much about everything, didn't know about this. "He had completely given in to it, he was consumed by it."
Jakob's eyes narrowed. "I've heard people talk about the sickness, but no one's ever told me much. What does it actually do?"
Amy sighed again, her gaze lingering on him. For a few moments, she seemed to weigh her words carefully as though wondering if it was wise for someone his age to know. But she could see the determination in his expression and knew he wouldn't let it go.
"It's not just a craving for power, Jakob," she began, her voice quieter now. "It's… like a poison for your soul. It feeds on your darkest thoughts and desires until it's all that's left. People who let it take them lose themselves completely. They might gain unimaginable power, but it comes at the cost of everything else—sanity, compassion, even humanity. And Riddle?" She shook her head slightly. "He wasn't just sick. He embraced it."
Jakob nodded slowly, turning over Amy's words in his mind. "So… you go insane?"
Amy let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Not exactly, but you're not entirely wrong either." Her eyes lit up like she was about to prove a point. "Think about it. When you cast a dark spell, what do you feel?"
Jakob tilted his head, frowning slightly as he thought back. "I feel… good?"
Amy snapped her fingers, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Exactly. That's the core of it. When you cast something dark, the only emotions you're really aware of are hate, anger, and maybe vengeance. But here's the thing—let's say you cast something like the Cruciatus. In that moment, you feel something else. You feel peace. Maybe even joy. It's fleeting, sure, but it's enough to make you crave it."
Jakob's expression darkened as he absorbed her explanation, and Amy stepped closer, her voice growing more serious. "That's what makes the sickness so dangerous. Those feelings—anger, hate, euphoria—they start to build up inside you. They feed each other. And then one day, your wife, your brother, your parents, or even your kid drops a fork at the dinner table, and in that split second of rage, you cast a Killing Curse."
Her smile faded, replaced by something far grimmer. "And what's your reward? Total euphoria. Absolute bliss. Just for a moment, but it's enough to keep you going back for more."
Jakob's jaw tightened, his hand curling into a loose fist. "And that's what happened to Riddle?"
Amy nodded. "He didn't just give in to it. He lived for it. That's what makes people like him unstoppable. The more they use it, the more they lose themselves, but the power… it's intoxicating. They'll do anything to feel that high again, even if it means tearing apart the world around them."
"That's pretty insane," Jakob said, shaking his head. "So when do you know the sickness has taken over? Where's the point of no return?"
Amy shrugged casually, though her tone remained serious. "It depends on the person. Some people are more vulnerable than others. For some, it can take a few weeks; for others, it's months or even years before they're gone completely." She leaned against the desk, thinking for a moment. "The point of no return? I don't know for sure. I just know that if you don't clean yourself after using dark magic, it gets harder and harder to do so until one day… you just wake up, kill someone you love, and don't even think twice about leaving their corpse behind as you sit down for breakfast."
Jakob raised an eyebrow. "When you say 'clean,' do you mean balancing it? Like taking a break, using other types of magic, and giving yourself time away from the dark stuff?"
Amy's lips curled into an amused smile as she crossed her arms. "I can see why you're top of your class," she said with a small chuckle. "Yes, that's exactly it. It's hard to explain, but think of it this way—every time you use dark magic, you're feeding it, making it grow stronger. But when you stop, when you rest and use other types of magic, you're starving it, shrinking it back down to something manageable. The trick is knowing when to stop feeding it before it takes over completely."
Jakob opened his mouth to say something but froze, his attention shifting toward the door. He tilted his head, listening. "Do you hear that?" he asked in a low voice as he began to walk carefully toward the door.
Amy stood still, almost holding her breath, straining to catch whatever had caught his attention. "No," she whispered back. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly." Jakob replied sharply, his gaze narrowing as he reached for the door and slowly eased it open.
The chamber beyond was silent and empty. The Gryffindors were gone, and so was Ginny's body.
"They've left," Jakob sighed, stepping back from the doorway. "We should go too, before someone else comes back." He turned, ready to leave, but paused when he saw Amy by the bookshelves, pulling out several volumes and stacking them in her arms.
"Seriously?" Jakob rolled his eyes as he watched her carry the books toward him.
Saliza, sensing that they were about to depart, slithered down from the desk and toward her youngling. She slipped beneath his robes, her cool scales pressing against his skin as she coiled comfortably around his chest, settling in for the journey back.
"What? I'm a Slytherin. It's my right to have these," Amy said with mock indignation as she tried to balance the five books, throwing him a playful scowl.
Jakob didn't bother responding. Instead, he gestured for her to pick up the pace. As they left the chamber and made their way through the cave outside, he noticed the faint look of disappointment on her face.
"Are you seriously upset about not taking more books?" Jakob asked, raising an eyebrow as he offered her a hand to help her over a large rock.
Amy huffed defensively. "You don't have to point it out like I'm some child. That was Slytherin's private library, for Merlin's sake."
A small smile tugged at Jakob's lips as he glanced at her. "You'll get the chance to read them all, I promise," he reassured. "But not now. They'll probably keep a close watch on the entrance after this, at least for a while."
Amy gave a reluctant nod, adjusting the books in her arms as they continued up toward the surface. They made their way back to the castle and toward their common room.
As they walked, Jakob's mind wandered. A question surfaced—one he hadn't thought to ask Amy until now as they made their way through the corridors.
"Amy, how did you and Saliza find me down there?"
Amy shot him an awkward glance, clearing her throat as if stalling for time. "I waited for you to come back to the common room. I wanted to talk to you about… everything that had happened," she admitted, shifting the books in her arms. "When you didn't come back, I might have gotten a little… passionate in my frustration, assuming you were avoiding me," Amy admitted, looking a bit sheepish as she met his gaze. "So, I ordered Pansy to hand over Saliza."
Jakob raised an eyebrow. "And why were you taking her?"
Amy hesitated, glancing at Saliza as if expecting the snake to chime in, but the serpent remained silent, offering her no help. Letting out a sigh, she finally admitted, "I thought she could help me find you, so I asked her to track you down."
Jakob frowned and tilted his head down to his chest. "Saliza. I need an answer," he hissed, his tone slightly dropping as he directed the question to his serpent.
Saliza shifted beneath his robes, her body squirming a little before her head emerged, her crimson eyes glinting in the dim light. "I like her," she hissed in reply. "And I thought that if she found you, we could end this pathetic squabble."
Jakob blinked, still trying to process his familiar's blunt response. "So you willingly led a frustrated and angry girl straight to me?" he asked, staring at Saliza in clear disbelief.
Saliza hissed, flicking her tongue out to give him a quick lick on the cheek as if that would somehow make everything better. "It was annoying. And she asked nicely."
Seeing Jakob's reaction to what the snake hissed, Amy gave him a small smirk. "See? Even Saliza agrees."
Jakob rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile. "You two are impossible."
Seeing that her youngling was taking the information better than expected, Saliza seized the moment for what she believed would earn her extra credit. "I sneaked inside your robes before you even woke up, waiting for the perfect time to attack. Like I did with the young dragon," she hissed proudly, her tone dripping with self-satisfaction as she shifted beneath his robes.
"You also led a girl—you knew was pissed at me—straight to my location just because you liked her," Jakob said, narrowing his eyes at the snake. "Some would call that betrayal." He answered, narrowing his eyes as he glanced down at her.
Jakob was about to continue, but Saliza was already on the move. She uncoiled from his chest with the kind of speed that only came when someone knew they'd messed up and didn't want to deal with the consequences. Slithering toward the window, she moved with exaggerated purpose, as if she could somehow pretend the last conversation hadn't happened by acting extra focused.
She stopped at the windowsill, her head tilting slightly, her tongue flicking out just once before she hissed, "I'm hungry. I want to feed."
Jakob raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, showing that he knew exactly what his familiar was trying to do. Saliza, still very pointedly avoiding his gaze, shifted her head just enough to look casual—while also being ready to bolt the second the opportunity presented itself.
With a slow sigh, Jakob stepped forward and pushed the window open, resting a hand on the frame as he gave her one last look. "Eating a basilisk makes one hungry," he muttered, watching her long enough to ensure she squirmed a little.
Saliza immediately slithered out, not replying or saying goodbye before disappearing into the night.
"Saliza has a point," Amy muttered, glancing around the corridor. "We should head back quickly before anyone sees us."
Jakob nodded, about to agree, but his words were cut off by the sound of voices and hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor. His head turned sharply toward the noise, missing the moment when Amy grabbed his arm.
Without a word, she yanked him into a nearby scrubby alcove, pulling him into the cramped space. Jakob barely had time to register what was happening before the door closed behind them, leaving the faint glow of light from the keyhole as their only source of visibility.
Pressed tightly together in the small hiding spot, Jakob's ears strained to catch the muffled voices outside. He could make out the deep, calm tone of Dumbledore's voice, countered by McGonagall's sharper, more urgent notes. Their words were indistinct, fragments of some sort of debate.
The Slytherin boy turned his head toward the girl, noticing how her breaths had grown heavier, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
It only took him a moment to realise why. The cramped space had forced Amy to lift her right leg, bracing her foot against the door to keep herself steady. When Jakob had leaned in earlier, straining to hear the professors outside, he had unknowingly pressed his entire body against hers.
She had barely seemed to acknowledge the voices beyond the door. Instead, her focus had turned fully to the heat of him pressing against a very sensitive spot beneath her skirt, a slow, sensual burn beginning to spread through her body.
The realisation hit Jakob like a hammer as his mind caught up with what had been unintentional moments ago.
His gaze flickered downward, taking in their position and how close—how perfectly pressed together—they had become. When he looked back up, Amy's dark eyes locked onto his, and his head spun. Raw and unfiltered Lust burned in them like a sun, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
Her tongue gently began wetting her lips as they parted slightly. When she caught him staring, she bit down on her lower lip, teasingly inviting him for a taste. Jakob didn't think, he couldn't, he didn't know how anymore. Any rational thought he might have had moments ago was now completely shattered as he closed the distance, his lips crashing against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.
Amy reacted instantly, a soft gasp slipping from her before she melted into him, her arms looping around his neck, pulling him closer. The press of her body against his made his skin burn harder, almost like every nerve was alight with the sensation of her warmth.
Her hips began to shift, making the younger Slytherin let out a quiet groan as the grinding began, every move making him twitch, losing more of his rational thinking.
Jakob's hands moved instinctively, his fingers fumbling with urgency to unbutton her shirt, the need to feel more of her overriding any other thought.
Amy moaned softly against his lips as his hand slipped beneath her bra, his fingers curving around her warm, firm breasts. His grip tightened just enough as he began massaging them in sync with the slow, deliberate rhythm of her grinding.
She arched into his touch, her own movements growing more insistent as her fingers slid behind his lower back, gripping him tightly. Her body moved against his, guiding him into a faster rhythm, both of them truly lost in a world where only they existed.
The heat in him built rapidly, his pulse hammering in his ears. It felt too good, too intense, something inside him about to burst. Amy's lips pressed harder against his, a muffled whimper escaping her as her body tensed, her movements turning erratic.
A strangled moan slipped past her lips as she trembled violently against him, her entire body jerking with the force of it.
"Fuck," she gasped as her movements slowed, then stilled. She sagged against him, her forehead resting on his shoulder, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.
Jakob's grip on her tightened, his own breaths ragged, his body screaming for him to continue. But as Amy clung to him, her fingers gripping his back like she needed to anchor herself, the reality of everything that had happened returned. She had died today. Pushing her any further—no matter how much he wanted to—probably wasn't the best idea. Overexertion was the last thing she needed right now.
Jakob exhaled, forcing himself to steady his breathing as he held her close, feeling the way her body still slightly trembled against his. He pressed a brief kiss to the side of her head, finding a way to control himself in the warmth of her skin. Right now, it was enough just to have her here.
Amy slowly lifted her head, wearing a teasing smile as her dark eyes met his. "Oh, you are getting so rewarded for this," she said softly, playfully but also full of promise.
Jakob grinned at her statement but stopped as her expression shifted, twisting into one of discomfort.
"Ouch—shit, cramp leg," Amy hissed, wincing as she glanced down at the leg pressed awkwardly against the door.
Jakob frowned, clearly confused. "What? What's wrong?"
"Help," she muttered, pointing at her raised leg. Jakob quickly grabbed it and lowered it back down, a bit clumsy in the tight space. Amy let out a relieved sigh but stumbled as she regained her footing, knocking over a bucket hidden in the cramped scrub.
The clang echoed loudly in the silence, freezing both of them in place. Their heads snapped toward the closed door, their bodies tensing as the sound almost seemed to echo. Jakob could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears as they listened, straining for any sign that Dumbledore or McGonagall had heard.
Seconds passed, stretching into what felt like minutes, but no footsteps or voices followed. No one ripped open the door to catch them.
Amy exhaled first, glancing at Jakob with wide eyes before covering her mouth to suppress a laugh. Jakob's shoulders sagged as he sighed in relief, and when he looked at her, the tension between them broke.
They tried to hold in their laughter, stifling it behind their hands, but the absurdity of the situation made it impossible to stop the quiet snickers that escaped.
When the two teens had finally composed themselves, Jakob carefully pushed the door open, glancing outside before motioning to Amy that it was clear. They slipped out quietly, walking side by side through the dim corridors. Amy's cheeks remained flushed, and every so often, she glanced at the younger Slytherin from the corner of her eye, thinking he wouldn't notice.
Jakob, of course, did. He caught every glance, every fleeting look, and it made a small smirk tug at his lips. The way she looked at him filled him with a sense of pride, a rare feeling that he didn't mind indulging in.
When they reached the entrance to the common room, Amy turned to him, her expression shifting to something more serious. "Wait here for five minutes before going in," she firmly instructed but with a hint of warmth in her tone.
Jakob raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
Amy, noticing the expression, explained further. "I'll make sure no one sees you come in. It's easier to explain why I was out. No one would question me."
Jakob nodded, understanding the unspoken meaning behind her words. The Slytherin Queen could stand next to a dead body, and no one would dare accuse her of anything. Her reputation carried too much weight. But him? A second-year boy caught sneaking back into the common room after all that chaos? That would be a different story entirely.
Jakob placed himself behind a pillar as Amy slipped inside the common room. He watched the door shut behind her, leaving him alone in the dungeons.
As he stood there, his thoughts began to swirl. What would tomorrow bring? Would Dumbledore summon him? There was no reason for him to be under suspicion, but Jakob couldn't shake the feeling that the headmaster always had a way of uncovering truths others wanted buried. There was a reason the old man led the so-called light side. Jakob's mind raced, considering his options. Should he already start crafting an alibi? A believable story he could lean on if questioned?
The seconds ticked by, his thoughts moving faster than he realised. Before long, he noticed that five minutes must have passed. Taking a calming breath, he stepped out from his hiding spot and headed toward the common room entrance.
Pushing open the door, the young Slytherin stepped inside and glanced around. The room was completely empty, the silence almost unsettling.
His gaze scanned the room, half-hoping Amy might still be there. He wanted to see her again, feel the reassurance of her warmth, and know for certain that she was alright.
But she wasn't there.
With a quiet sigh, Jakob turned toward the dormitory corridor and headed to room 13. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Pansy had been trying—and failing—to distract herself from the swirling anxiety that had consumed her. Handing over Saliza to Amy had seemed harmless at the time, but now? She wasn't so sure.
Why had Amy even spoken to her in the first place? It wasn't like the Slytherin Queen made a habit of having casual conversations with underclassmen. And then there was Jakob. Pansy had seen the fury on Amy's face and had assumed it wasn't about him. What if she'd been wrong? What if Jakob had been in trouble, and she had somehow caused it by lending the snake? What if she had betrayed him without realising it?
Her thoughts spiralled, and she bit her lip, clutching the edges of her desk.
The sound of footsteps broke her train of thought, and when the door clicked open, she snapped towards it and gasped audibly.
Jakob stood in the doorway, looking like he'd been dragged through hell. His usually neat hair was dishevelled, sticking out in every direction. His clothes were filthy, his shirt stained with dirt, and Pansy's stomach turned as she saw it. Blood. His hands were smeared red, and he had a haunted look in his eyes that made her chest tighten.
"What the bloody hell happened to you?" she blurted out, rising from her chair, her voice a mix of shock and alarm.
Still lost in his thoughts, Jakob gave Pansy a faint smile as he unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes. The scene felt oddly familiar, almost like déjà vu—returning to his room after a night of chaos, Pansy waiting for him, blurting out something along the lines of what she'd just said.
He didn't pay much attention to her as he walked past, but if he had, he would have noticed how her cheeks flushed faintly as her eyes lingered on his chest. Instead, he turned and headed straight into the bathroom without a word.
Inside, Jakob shed the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower. The moment the warm water hit his skin, he let out a slow exhale, feeling the grime, the blood—Amy's blood—begin to wash away.
Tilting his head back, Jakob closed his eyes, letting the water stream over his face. He dragged his hands through his hair, forcing himself to focus on the shower's heat and nothing else. But then, like a lightning strike, a vivid image flashed through his mind.
Ginny Weasley.
Her lifeless eyes stared at him, her face... Pale and terrifyingly clear, as though she were right in front of him. Jakob's breathing quickened, and he shook his head violently, trying to push the memory away. But it clung to him, the image seared into his mind like a haunting spectre.
"Damn it!" Jakob yelled, his voice echoing off the black tiles as his fist collided with the wall. The sharp pain in his knuckles was a brief distraction, but even that wasn't enough to drown out the look in Ginny's eyes.
He opened his eyes and noticed the intricate white cracks spreading across the black tiles. For a moment, despite everything, it struck him as almost beautiful. His gaze shifted to his hand, his knuckles raw and bloodied, small fragments of the shattered tile embedded into his skin. The water from the shower mixed with the blood, creating faint pink streaks that swirled down the drain.
Jakob raised his fist closer, watching as he carefully picked out the tiny splinters. The wounds healed almost instantly, the stinging pain numbing and then vanishing entirely. Flexing his fingers, he opened his hand, inspecting it before looking back at the dent in the wall—a perfect imprint of his fist. Surprise flickered across his face as he ran his fingertips over the damaged surface.
"Jakob? Are you alright?" Pansy's voice broke through the silence, muffled slightly by the closed door.
Jakob turned his head toward the sound, his expression smoothing over. "Yeah, I just slipped," he called back with a calm and even voice. "I'll be right out."
Reaching for the shower knob, he turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel.
Jakob stood before the mirror, his reflection staring back at him as he brushed his teeth and slipped on his shorts. The exhaustion etched into his face felt heavier than ever, but he forced himself to focus on the mundane routine. Once finished, he ran a hand through his still-damp hair and stepped out of the bathroom.
As he entered the room, his eyes fell on Pansy. She was sitting on his bed, her posture straight but her expression soft, concern written all over her face. She didn't say a word, but the way she watched him made it clear—she was waiting. Waiting for him to come over and tell her what had happened.
Jakob sighed quietly, walking over and sitting beside her. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed on the floor. Then, finally, he spoke in a low and uncertain tone. "Pansy… I did something tonight."
Her dark eyes searched his face, taking in the haunted look that lingered in his expression. Without hesitation, she reached out and took his hand in hers with a firm yet gentle and comforting grip. "Why don't you start from the beginning?" she said softly, giving him a comforting squeeze.
Jakob nodded, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He began recounting the events of the night, sounding low and almost hollow as he spoke.
Jakob told Pansy everything—the diary, the possessed Weasley girl, how she had stunned him. He described waking up in the chamber, meeting the boy Tom Riddle, and uncovering the truth of who he really was. Finally, he spoke of Amy, of her bravery as she fought and how she had ultimately been killed by Tom.
Pansy's expression twisted with horror as she processed his words. "Amy… is she dead?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid of what the answer might be.
"She was," Jakob admitted heavily. "I held her in my arms as she took her last breath."
"Was?" Pansy asked sharply, suspicion lacing her voice as she caught the implication.
Jakob inhaled deeply, his hands clenching slightly as he braced himself. "Pansy, I did something. Something that I can't stop seeing every time I close my eyes." His voice faltered for a moment before he pushed through. "I can't even explain it fully because I don't completely understand it myself. But I summoned something. Something dark. Something evil."
Pansy's breath hitched as she stared at him, her face growing pale.
"It gave me a choice," Jakob continued, his voice quieter now, tinged with a deep sense of regret. "The Weasley girl's soul… in exchange for bringing Amy back. And I took it."
Pansy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at him in shock, unable to find the words to respond.
"Do you think I'm a monster?" Jakob asked quietly, his voice trembling as he finally turned to look at Pansy.
Her chest tightened as she saw the pain etched into his eyes. Tears welled up in her own as she smiled at him softly, shaking her head. "Of course not. You will never be a monster, Jakob," she said firmly despite the emotion rising in her throat. "But… Jakob, who took her soul? Where did you send her?"
Jakob's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the floor. The memory flashed vividly in his mind—the terrified redhead crying, her desperate, panicked struggle as she was dragged away by the monstrous hand. The image hit him like a hammer, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head as if to push it away.
"I don't know," he said finally. "I only saw a hand. An arm. But that was enough to know… I doomed her to a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone except Tom Riddle."
Pansy reached out, her hand moving to his head, gently stroking his hair as she watched tears silently fall from his eyes. Jakob didn't sob, but his haunted expression said everything.
"Come on," she whispered softly, guiding him toward the bed. He didn't resist as she gently pressed him to lie down. Pansy wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she rested her chin on the top of his head.
Her voice was barely audible as she spoke, her words sounding almost like a gentle lullaby, soft and soothing. "We don't have to talk about this anymore if you don't want to. Not tonight."
Jakob managed a faint smile, though it barely reached his eyes. "I saw her soul being dragged down, Pansy. It was… beautiful. Her soul shined with a glow you've never seen before. And then… Amy came back. She got her soul back and woke up."
He paused, his voice quieter as he continued, "After that, I opened the diary—Tom's vessel—and somehow, I ended up inside it. Inside his mind, his soul." Jakob turned his gaze towards her, and his tone grew colder. "I ripped his soul apart, piece by piece. And I enjoyed every second of it."
Pansy's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
"And in the end," Jakob added, his voice darker, "I absorbed his magic."
Pansy frowned, confusion flashing across her face. "You… you absorbed the Dark Lord's soul?" she questioned with a slight tremor.
Jakob shook his head. "A seventh of it," he corrected flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Just one fragment. But it was enough to feel it."
Pansy stared at him, unsure whether to feel horror, awe, or something in between.
"What does this even mean?" Pansy asked, her voice filled with uncertainty as her gaze locked on Jakob.
The boy turned his head toward her, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "It means I'm so much stronger now,"
He raised his hand, his fingers curling into a fist before opening again. A small circle of darkness appeared above his palm, swirling gently as though it was sentient.
Jakob pressed his long finger under his thumb and flicked it outward. The darkness shot from his hand like a bullet, hitting the wall beside the bathroom door with a loud crack. The impact left a clean, round hole that was perfectly smooth and about the size of two fingers.
Pansy gasped in both surprise and amazement as her eyes darted to the wall. The hole was deep, and through it, she could see the faint glow of the bathroom light shining through. She turned back to the boy in her arms.
"I don't even feel dizzy or sick right now," Jakob said, his eyes fixed on the swirling darkness still lingering faintly in his palm before it dissipated. "I haven't tried anything else yet, but this… it means I can finally continue my studies on the book."
For a moment, Pansy caught the flicker of happiness in his expression, the faintest trace of pride in his tone. It was brief, though, as something shifted in his eyes. His face darkened, the weight of his actions returning to him like a shadow looming over his thoughts.
"You did what you had to," Pansy said gently, leaning closer as if her words alone could lift the burden from him. "You can't blame yourself—"
"I did what I had to," Jakob interrupted, cutting through her reassurance. "And I will blame myself for the consequences of my actions." His tone was steady and resolute, but there was no mistaking the pain beneath it.
Pansy's lips parted as if to argue, but she stopped, watching as he leaned back.
"I need to remember this," Jakob continued quietly, his voice losing some of its edge but none of its conviction. "I need to hold onto it. So no one—no one—ever tries what I did again."
Pansy held onto Jakob, her arms still wrapped around him as he finished recounting everything. His voice had grown quieter, almost distant, and after a few minutes of silence, he took a deep breath and spoke again.
"Then I left with Amy, and I returned here."
She didn't respond immediately, unsure of what to say. Instead, she watched him as he lay back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Jakob," she said softly as she tried to meet his gaze. "I will never think less of you for this. And you shouldn't either, alright?"
He didn't move for a moment, but then he gave a small nod, his eyes flickering toward her. Pansy hesitated for just a second before leaning up and pressing a light kiss to his cheek.
Jakob blinked, startled over her action and turned his head to look at her.
"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you," she said quickly in a serious tone as she settled her head back onto his shoulder.
Jakob let out a soft chuckle, the tension in his body easing for the first time that night. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and though she couldn't see it, the faintest smile played on his lips. Pansy, however, felt her own cheeks flush as she closed her eyes, without knowing why she had just done that.
After a few moments of silence and calm, Pansy felt a subtle shift in Jakob. It was how his body tensed slightly beneath her like he was gathering the courage to speak. True to her instincts, he hesitated before finally opening his mouth.
"Pansy, can I ask you a question?"
Still resting her head on his shoulder, she nodded lazily, her curiosity piqued by his uncertain tone.
"Um… this might be a bit private, and you definitely don't have to answer," he began. "It's just that… you're a girl, and I—"
"What is it?" Pansy cut in, lifting her head to look at him. Her expression shifted to one of interest, though a hint of amusement appeared as she saw the uneasy expression on her roommate's face.
"Are you having girl problems?" she teased, catching the way Jakob glanced away awkwardly, clearly overthinking whatever was on his mind.
"No, it's not like that," Jakob muttered, shaking his head slightly. "But… Alright, screw it."
He closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath before blurting out the words in a rush as if saying them faster would make it less embarrassing.
"If something rubs a girl down there, and she starts to make sounds and, uh, jerks… what does that really mean?"
Pansy's eyes widened, and a deep red flush spread across her cheeks as she quickly lowered her head to rest on his shoulder again, hiding her face from view. "I… I don't know," she said hurriedly. "I've never… done it myself."
Jakob frowned, glancing down at her. "Then why did you look so surprised when I mentioned it? Like you knew something could happen?"
Pansy hesitated, the silence stretching for a moment before she mumbled her reply. "I heard from someone… Please don't ask me who." She shifted uncomfortably, her blush deepening as she continued. "She told me that if you do it long enough, it's like… fireworks inside your body. And that it's the best feeling in the world."
Jakob's eyebrows shot up, a look of mild surprise crossing his face. "Huh. That's… interesting."
Pansy tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why do you ask?"
Jakob hesitated for a moment before answering in a thoughtful tone. "Nothing. Just… wondering if guys have something similar,"
The Blood Ritual bound him to the truth, but outright telling Pansy that he wondered how a climax felt just as bad—if not worse—than admitting what had happened with Amy in the scrub. He pinched the bridge of his nose before closing his eyes for a moment. With a reluctant nod, he let Pansy answer, embarrassment settling in as he accepted the escape she unknowingly provided.
"Umm… I don't know, Jakob," she began with a slight shake in her voice. "I think you'll have to ask some of the boys or… we—I mean you!—can try it out yourself."
Jakob's eyes widened, and he looked down at her, his surprise written all over his face. "What?" he asked in an almost disbelieving tone.
Pansy's face turned an even deeper shade of red as she stammered, "You'll have to talk to some of the boys."
Jakob raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What was the other thing you said?"
"You are so thick headed sometimes, don't ask me these questions." she hastily reprimanded, burying her face deeper into his shoulder. "Now shut up and go to sleep. I'm tired."
Jakob bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. He tightened his embrace around his roommate, his heart feeling lighter for the first time in what felt like ages.
At that moment, as he held her close, he realised just how much better and happier his life was with her in it.
Pansy didn't say anything, and the realisation of what she had accidentally uttered to the boy beside her made her feel all sorts of different emotions.
They didn't know it now, but what she had just said would be the turning point in their friendship.
It wasn't long before both of them drifted off to sleep.
Author's note: Remember, if you enjoy this story, make sure you like, follow, and review (and if someone doesn't know by now, I am particularly fond of reviews and PMs), and I will see you in the next one!
Cheers.