No, there is no vaulted ceiling allowing for the view of glowing stars in the dungeon. They may be shining on Harper's paths in the tower right now, but down here, surrounded by the Black Lake and cold castle walls to all sides, I can no longer find any light.

No peace either. I can't sleep, and instead of restlessness suitable for reading, I only find myself in constant momentary nodding off as well as a dazed nirvana.

So is it simply miserable tiredness or intrinsic and irrevocable desire to have her here with me, arising from my subconsciousness?

I'd like to have her here, close enough, just so that my completely useless heart tries to beat, so I'd feel it even in my numb body.

Is she my equinox, the balance for all darkness? Who if not her embodies the exact moment when the sun crosses the celestial equator on its path and makes day and night just as long for all places on earth.

But how would she be happy when I can never love her?
All of a sudden I'm wide awake again, dully staring at the ceiling.

I can't be here half unconsciously any longer.
And I don't want to be alone …

"You seem lost, heir of Slytherin, only death waits down here, not life. Why do you come to me in the dark of night?"

I let my hand slide over her scaly head next to me, leaning against her cold body, and say, "Where else would I go …"

Echidna has soon wrapped herself around my body as if to protect me from the coldness of her realm, but I'm stuck with my own soul anyway – and she can't protect me from that.

I take a deep breath, just to stare into the void in another place again.
I have so much to do, so much to solve. And I urgently need to find solutions, but how?
Lost in thought, I grab the locket around my neck to examine it, right before I let it float in the air.

It certainly has more aesthetic aspects to it than Marvolo's ring.

Marvolo's ring … Grindelwald holds another Deathly Hallow, but what do I have? Even more questions and the sword of Damocles hanging over everyone I've ever cared about.

Brilliant.

I'm moving in circles, merely babbling. "Slytherin's taste in jewelry was quite flamboyant."

"It's not only jewelry," Echidna hisses, fixing her yellow eyes on the swaying pendant I can't even seem to use for hypnotising myself to sleep.

I glare into the profound darkness of the Chamber of Secrets, far away in my mind. For a moment there, the cave vault full of stalactites makes me wonder what a coincidence it would be if a tip of the ancient projectiles were to break right next to us. Or split our skulls open even.

Then Echidna's words sink into my consciousness. "What do you mean, not only jewelry? It's worthless metal, only its sentimental value makes it precious …"

"No, also the snake," she protests, "it speaks to us, can't you hear it?"

"The detailing?" I ask and intuitively snatch the medallion out of the air again. "What is she talking about?"

"Immortality," Echidna whispers. "The key to it dwells within the heritage."

"The heritage?" I repeat.

Then my skin burns.
It dawns on me. I jump up as if stung by a tarantula.

Gormlaith's words in the archives of the Notts' Pure-Blood Directory …

"Immortality, ambition, cunning – that's what we are made of. The key to all of it dwells within ourselves and our heritage!" I repeat, turning the medallion in my hands. "Immortality dwells within our heritage." I murmur. "With or … within?"

"Open it. Like the master once did."

I stare at the medallion, let it hover over my palm again, with the undeniable realisation that my heart is still very much able to beat …

I whisper to the amulet's snake – and sure enough, the clasp clicks.

Holding in my breath, I flip it open.
And indeed – inside its pendant I find a previously hidden, yellowed piece of parchment.

I remove it to unfold the old note cautiously, and words and sketches in magically glowing letters become visible.

∞ Animus Magis Magisque Discinditur ∞
ᚾ
7

Nothing else is written on it, there's just also a sketch of a moon phase with five stages.
Loosely translated, the words mean something along the lines of 'increasingly splitting the soul' …

I get hot and cold.

The symbol of infinity is directly below the sketch of the five moon phases as well, each of which were probably assigned a rune.
What's it with the Arabic seven, though …

Breathing heavily, I have to recognise that I've just had a breakthrough.

I carried the answer to my questions so close to me the whole time. The path to my goals was right there, the key to my ability to fulfill the vow …

The vow that wouldn't have been necessary if only the thought of opening the medallion had occurred to me sooner!

It must be fate, it seems so ridiculous.

The Latin words are almost certainly the incantation.
They just have to be. Slytherin carried it with him and successfully preserved it from all Ministry activism to combat Black Magic.

Animus magis magisque discinditur …

The symbol of infinity as an implication that these words must be said over and over again?

It's the first time in ages that I feel the need to write something down. I have to make notes.

But taint Harper's diary with magic like that? I carry it with me all the time, with blank pages only, but still … Yet again, I can hardly sink any deeper anyway, so on I go.

I use magic to transfer every symbol from the ancient scrap of parchment into the diary.

But what about the moons in combination with the runes?

Five repetitions of the ritual within one moon phase in five nights? As I sketch the moons, I hear Grindelwald's voice echoing through my head again.

It's probably not possible to replace the light with darkness all at once … There has to be a balance to avoid a collapse. Therefore, you exchange light – essentially life – with darkness. To ensure that no precious soul light strays into the world and evaporates, candles are said to help.

Does the number of five possibly have something to do with the candle arrangement?

What symbol has five points? Or corners?
A pentagram?

How unoriginal …

In Goethe's Faust, it prevents Mephistopheles from leaving the study. But the symbol is much older than Goethe. Older than the Freemasonry to which he was rumoured to belong. And so I am dealing with symbols that are more sinister than they might appear at first glance.

Occult magic, straight from the fire.
The darkest forces imaginable, far removed from heaven and its angels …

Do I really want this? I certainly used to.

Do I even have a choice anymore?
My soul for Harper, my life for hers. And for Nagini, for Vivian, for Queenie, for Jim and Edwin, the Sullivans …

It's not only about what I want anymore.

So I stare at the sketch again.
The starting point seems clear – with a full moon. With an intact soul – and the completion of the ritual will surely take place when the night no longer gives light to the world. When the part of the moon facing us has lost all its glow – like my soul, when it's completely torn apart.

In the meantime, I split it more and more, from the full moon to the third quarter, to the waning half moon to the last quarter – and finally new moon will arrive.

But what does the seven stand for?
What are the runes supposed to mean?

My euphoria, fueled by progress, is immediately dampened.

Seven might stand for absolutely anything, but at the same time, it must be something so obvious that the number alone serves as a sufficient clue …

I have hundreds of ideas – but when it comes to things like that, my thoughts are usually far too complicated.

I need Elliott.
He's always had impeccable intuition, and his first instinct is typically right.

And Leonora's been attending Study of Ancient Runes lately.

For hell's sake, I've made both mad at me just the other day …

The next full moon is on Monday, May 8 – so I have this weekend to clear it all up if I want to begin with this phase of the moon.

"We're close, Echidna," I hear myself whisper, glaring at the medallion. "Almost there …"

When I try to sneak back into the common room at twilight, it's not quite going according to plan.

Absolutely every member of the house seems to be clustered around Elliott, Crockett and the other players – and that's when I remember.

Quidditch.

"Where the blazes do you come from so early in the morning?" Cassia asks when she notices me entering right next to her.

"Owlery," I lie. Ever so casually, I add, "Who are we playing against?"

"Gryffindor? How can you not know that?"

"Gryffindor …" Perplexed, I nod. She's right. How could I have missed that? It's the match everyone is most anxious to watch.

And it'll distract the hell out of Elliott, even though I need him.

Yet as our eyes meet, I realise at once that even with plenty of time on my hands it wouldn't be too easy this time.

He's angry, ever since I wanted to make Leonora vouch for Myrtle …

I stifle a groan, I could slap myself. I was far too impatient, and now I have to feign remorse despite being so terrible at that.

But after I've made myself really unpopular with him in the Room of Requirement, a sporting event seems like a convenient occasion to chat again.

"Alright, let's go!" Rouvenia calls out, clapping her hands. "Players ahead!"

Wonderful idea. Elliott heads straight for me, frowning.

"Ell, how are you feeling, are you –"

"He needs to concentrate on the game," Winky Crockett growls, stepping right in between us. "Don't distract him!"

"Come, come, Winky," I almost whisper, "nothing could distract your team more than the clothes you've worn five times."

"Tom!" Cassia hisses, crossing her arms over her chest. "We want to win today, leave our Captain alone!"

Winky rushes past me, annoyed and perhaps a little hurt, and Elliott is already following him, but I keep pace.

"What?" he grumbles without looking at me.

"I wanted to cheer you up. Because it's the first game I'll see and I know it's … important to you."

I'm so bad at pretending things such as interest, it's downright ridiculous.
And Elliott obviously thinks so, too.

Grimly he whispers, "You also know how important Leonora is to me – and yet you threatened her!"

"Threatened is a strong word, Elliott, what I tried to –"

"What?" He even stops for a moment to glare at me. "You threatened her and then you threatened me. As though you'd gone completely mad! I was always there for you, Tom, but that went too far!"

"I know," I urge myself to say and follow him again so that we don't lose the crowd. "I don't mean to downplay it, and … I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what exactly? That you can be a ruthless tyrant or a lousy friend?"

I think about it for a moment, then I just guess. "Both?"

"You're not sorry, I can tell – so stay away from us …"

"Elliott, come on, don't be so dramatic –"

"No! You're careless! You don't care how miserable Harper was while you were gone and you don't care about scaring Leo. You couldn't care less about the fact that I'm upset! Shame on you! You are being dramatic. You won't tell anyone what went on? Fine! But then don't expect us to understand why you're losing your mind!"

With that, he leaves me standing there.
I tilt my head back with a sigh.

He's right. Every word is correct.

And as much as he claims I care about nothing, which I do believe myself, I can't help but notice how odd it feels to have the prime example of a good-natured Slytherin demand that I stay away from him …

"Are you still fighting?" Rouvenia links her arm with mine and casually pulls me along so we pass through the Great Hall. "Tom, listen up, you're bloody strange ever since you're back. If even Elliott is angry with you –"

"I know," I grumble.

"And do you finally wish to talk about it?" she asks like some annoyed sister.

"No. Thank you …"

"But sort it out with Bryant, will you? He's important to you."

"Well …" I shrug as we step into the courtyard, adding, "I'm trying."

"Not enough. And you're also not at all back to normal with Sullivan either …"

"That's different, we –"

"Rubbish!" she sternly interrupts me as we step onto the wooden bridge. "The air is burning between you, and don't forget it's her birthday soon. You do remember that, don't you?"

May. Harper May Sullivan's birthday is in May. It's as easy to remember as it gets and yet I'd forgotten it.

"Indeed, you're right. The 22nd of May. Isn't it your birthday soon, too?"

"Yes, but mine you can forget like every other year, it's fine. Just think of something for Harper!"

"Rouvenia?"

"Huh?"

"What do you think of when you hear the word seven?"

She dully looks at me, all confused about that crazy change of subject. "Seven?"

I languidly nod. "The first thing that comes to mind."

"The seven deadly sins?" she says, gulping. "Does a first impulse like that make me a bad person?"

"Not at all," I quietly deny, already lost in thought. "Of course, that must be it … I could've thought of that, too."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she rolls her eyes in amusement. "Tom eerie Riddle also thinks of the seven deadly sins. Then I certainly don't have to worry …"

"Do you know a bit about runes?"

"You're asking me that?" She chuckles. "No, forget about it … Leonora has a knack for it – but uh oh, didn't you just urge her to vouch for Myrtle the other day?"

"As bad luck would have it, I did. She'll probably watch Quidditch, too, won't she?"

Rouvenia begins to lose her patience with me. "Tom, think! Her sweetheart is playing today – of course she'll be there!"

"Sure. Thank you, Rou."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she whines while we leave the wooden bridge behind us to now view the huge stadium in front of us. "Since when do you say things like 'thank you'? You're acting weird lately, I tell you, Riddle …"

Dear guest reviewer, thanks a lot, it's so nice to hear that kind feedback. And yes, they really try to look after him, but learning to accept that – and to let them – is so hard for him … The urge to make it all significantly worse got sparked in this chapter, lol. I hope you'll enjoy reading on nevertheless. Thank you again!