Latent Darkness

by RayofDawn

Anti-hero story! (Don't read if you're looking for a hero tale.) Rated M for sex, blood, gore, character death. You've been warned. Jakob Quade, heir to the ancient and noble house of Quade, enters Hogwarts, a world where power is everything, loyalty is fleeting, and ambition comes at a cost. How far will he go, and what will he sacrifice in his pursuit of greatness?

59. Chapter 59

Authors note: I've received a lot of reviews recently, and I just want to thank everyone who took the time to leave a comment! It truly made my day. So, I want to give a special shout-out to Maitre Inquisiteur, Xucrex, Oioioioioi785, and all the guest reviewers as well!

I normally follow a release schedule for posting chapters, but after seeing all your feedback, and one review in particular that mentioned checking every day for an update, even though they knew that I wouldn't post, I couldn't help but smirk. It made me want to give something back, to return the feeling I get when I read your reviews. So today, I hope you're pleasantly surprised!

Just to clarify so no one gets disappointed, I won't be able to release chapters every day moving forward. But I really wanted to give something back as a thank-you for all your ongoing support.

Hope you have a wonderful Friday, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Cheers!

Chapter 59. Apocalypse, an interview and a lie.

"We'll be there soon," he said, offering a faint smile.

They stood on the disc, the time and world spinning in the opposite direction from when they travelled last time. Pansy, who had looked momentarily worried, met his gaze, and as he gave her a reassuring smile, she felt herself begin to relax. Then, a flicker passed through her Jakob's expression. He frowned.

Something was wrong.

Pansy looked at him questioningly, sensing the shift in his face. "Jakob?"

Ivy, who had noticed it too, glanced over, her brows tightening as her red hair billowed wildly around. "What is it?"

He opened his mouth but didn't get a chance to answer.

A white, pale hand suddenly emerged from the vortex surrounding them. It lunged forward and clamped around Jakob's wrist with a crushing grip.

His eyes snapped down. "What the f—"

Before Jakob or either girl could react, the hand yanked him backwards and out of the circle.

And he was gone.

In the future.

Jakob stumbled forward out of the burned circle, blinking against the ash falling from the sky like slow, grey snow. The air was thick, dry, unmoving and carried the metallic sting of something long dead.

The sky was red.

Everything spun, making him take an unsteady step before realising he'd fall if he tried again. He closed his eyes, drawing a breath and trying to ground himself, but the spinning only worsened. The moment he took another step due to losing his balance, his leg gave out.

He fell forward, too disoriented to even lift his arms to brace for the impact.

But he never hit the ground.

Something caught him, a firm, steady arm winding around his middle and another hand pressed flat against his chest, keeping him upright.

Jakob slowly opened his eyes, breathing hard. He was back on his feet, but the hold around him remained firm, refusing to ease. He pressed a hand against the figure's chest in an attempt to push them away, but the embrace didn't falter. It wasn't forceful, just steady, as if the one holding him wasn't quite ready to let go.

There was something unnervingly familiar about the touch, the way her arms were positioned, the scent that lingered in her clothes. Even the texture of her hair, brushing faintly against his neck, made him blink in surprise.

"Pansy?" he asked in a low and uncertain tone, caught between disbelief and something else he hadn't yet named.

The woman gently stepped back, releasing her hold of him. She didn't speak immediately, only giving him a faint smile before stepping into the light that filtered down through the heavy red sky and drifting ash.

"Hello, stranger," she said at last.

Jakob stared at her, and for a second, he forgot how to speak. She looked like Pansy; she even sounded like her, but the girl he knew hadn't grown this much. The person in front of him wasn't a teen. She stood taller, with a more defined frame, and there was a presence in the way she carried herself that made it clear this was a woman who had seen and lived through more than he could guess.

The black fringe was still there, styled just as he remembered it, and the expression on her face, that familiar half-smile with just a hint of mischief, mirrored the one he had grown used to.

But something had changed.

And it wasn't just her age. There were three very distinct differences he noticed almost immediately, and each one told him that wherever he had landed, it wasn't anywhere close to where he was supposed to be.

Her smile revealed gleaming, razor-sharp fangs instead of her usual white teeth, turning what should have been a warm expression into something entirely different.

Black veins stretched out from her neck, crawling up to her cheeks like branching cracks in porcelain. Jakob's gaze followed them upward, and he froze when his eyes met hers.

Gone were the familiar dark brown irises he knew. Instead, her eyes were blood red, with no whites or contrast, just an endless, unnatural hue that made her pupils seem to glow.

"Pansy, what happened?" he asked, keeping his voice barely steady. "Did something go wrong? Did I… do this to you?"

The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stepped forward and pulled him into another embrace. One hand slid up behind his head, and he felt her fingers gently threading through his hair. She stroked it with care as if this had been something she had longed for most of all.

"Everything went fine," she said quietly. "Your Pansy is safe; she made it back to your time. I just needed a moment to speak with you."

Jakob eased out of her arms, still watching her closely.

"What happened to you?" he asked, taking in her face again. "Why do you look so… different?" He hesitated for a second, then added quickly as her eyebrow arched, "You still look beautiful, of course."

She laughed softly, having an almost playful sound, but there was nothing comforting about it. Jakob struggled to mirror the expression, especially when those razor-sharp teeth caught the light, twisting the woman's smile into something far colder than it should have been.

"I'd almost forgotten the gentleman you could be sometimes," she said lightly, stepping closer as her fingers slipped around his hand, her grip far gentler than the contrast of her features.

"I needed you to see this," she added, her tone shifting as she tilted her head toward the destruction around them. "The consequences of that night."

Jakob frowned, and only now, as he followed the direction of her gaze, did the desolation fully settle into his awareness.

"Where are we?" Jakob questioned, though deep down, he already knew the answer.

"Don't you recognise Hogwarts?" she replied quietly. "Or what's left of it, at least. They lost the Great War. And this… is all that remains."

Jakob turned again, sweeping his eyes across the horizon. The landscape stretched wide and hollow, looking nothing like the world he was used to. The forest, or what was once the Forbidden Forest, had been reduced to nothing but scorched earth and jagged remnants. The few trees still standing were blackened and twisted, stripped entirely of life and magic. Their shapes cracked against the backdrop of the red sky like skeletal remains of what used to be.

Further in the distance, where the dark lake had once glistened beneath the sunset, there was now only a gaping crater. Bones filled the basin where water used to be, like a mass grave left open to the elements. Nothing moved, no students, no creatures. Nothing.

Jakob forced himself to look. He didn't flinch. He didn't close his eyes. Instead, he turned toward the spot where the castle should have been standing: tall, magnificent, and impossible to mistake for anything else. But what greeted him now were only ruins and fallen towers.

"What… what happened?" he asked, his voice quieter now, less out of fear and more like someone trying to understand a story that still didn't make sense. He needed to hear it from her, to be told it was real.

Pansy had followed his gaze, showing no emotion as she looked towards the place that had been her home once.

"You happened," she said in a clipped tone. "you once said to me that you'd made up your mind after we got back from the time travel, but I never believed that. Something in you shifted after Christmas break. Something that changed you forever."

She kept her eyes ahead as she continued.

"I can't tell you exactly what happened that winter. I don't know what it would change in the future if I did. But I remember how you started closing yourself off after that. You stopped talking to people. You even avoided me for a while."

She paused, the silence carrying more weight than the words. When Pansy continued, a sorrow-filled smile crossed her lips as she turned towards him.

"But then you came back," she continued, her voice softening with the memory. "And you looked… happy. I remember that day so clearly. You said you had found a way to fix everything. That you'd found the answer to every problem. You said you knew how to open the gates of hell."

Jakob's eyes widened as the words sank in.

"I… I did what?" he asked in shock, wondering what had happened for that thought to even cross his mind.

Pansy gave him a sad smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"You succeeded. You brought every demon and what you called the pillars into this world. You believed it would give you the power to accomplish your ultimate goal. But it didn't save anyone. When they crossed over, they destroyed everything. Everyone we ever loved or cared for… they're gone."

Jakob took a step back. He didn't want to hear more. He looked around the desolation, barely believing that it had been his fault that this had happened. Pansy seemed pleased to see the guilt and pain in his expression and continued hoping that everything she had been through to get him here wasn't for nothing.

"The pillars infected you. Twisted you. They turned you against all of us, and when the demons left this world for heaven to start another war, you remained behind. You became their successor. You rule this world in their absence. The ruler of nothing."

He blinked, struggling to keep up with what she was saying, each word landing like a blow.

"Wait," he said finally, grasping for something to make sense of it. "You said they killed everyone. So why are you still here?"

Pansy opened her mouth to answer, but a piercing screech ripped through the air before she could speak. Both of them turned, their eyes locking on the distant treeline.

A flying creature emerged from the edge of the burned forest, its wings moving with an unnatural rhythm, its flight erratic and unstable.

Jakob was already halfway through raising his wand when Pansy stepped in front of him and stretched out her arms with her palm facing the red-skinned creature now circling above. The thing looked like a human-sized bat, though far more grotesque. Its limbs were too long, the joints bent at unnatural angles, and sharp claws stretched forward as soon as it spotted them.

It opened its maw, revealing rows of crooked, bloodred fangs, and let out a second screech that made the ash vibrate in the air around them.

Without saying a word, Pansy slowly curled her fingers into a fist as if gripping something invisible and began to draw it upward with controlled precision.

Jakob took a step back as the ground in front of them trembled, and the dirt shifted. Fingers broke through the surface.

He watched in disbelief as buried corpses clawed their way out of the earth. The tattered remains of Hogwarts robes clung to their frames like faded echoes of what they once were. And then he saw one face among them that made his heart stop.

Draco.

His skin was grey and torn, and the side of his face was slashed by something, likely claws. The flesh around his neck and ribs had been ripped away, exposing bone, yet somehow, his eyes still found Jakob's.

Even in death, the remains of that familiar blonde hair clung to his scalp, but what had once been meticulously combed back was now dirty and patchy.

Draco let out a low, breathless moan as Pansy turned her hand, making the small cluster of undead turn in unison. Pansy pointed toward the demon with one swift motion, and the undead surged.

They were fast, faster than any revenant Jakob had seen before. They moved with intent, with coordination, crawling over one another like a rising bridge. They launched upward, grabbing the demon mid-flight, pulling it down out of the air in a tangle of limbs and clawed hands.

The demon screamed, thrashing violently as teeth sank into its limbs and dead fingers tore at its wings. The flesh was ripped free in strips. Wings shredded. And still, the dead kept coming, climbing, dragging it lower with every second.

The creature crashed heavily into the ground, pinned beneath a writhing mass of bodies. It shrieked again, weaker now, as they tore it apart.

Pansy said nothing. She raised her hand once more, and with a flick of her wrist, the undead collapsed instantly.

She turned without a word, walking over to him with steady steps before placing a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was firm, and when she met his eyes, there was nothing left of the smile she had worn earlier.

"Jakob, you know I would do anything for you," she said quietly. "But I'm begging you now, listen to me. Never open that portal. You won't win against them. Not you, not anyone. Please… promise me."

Jakob nodded slowly, still trying to process everything. The only question that made it past his lips was the one that had refused to leave his mind.

"You can rise the dead?"

"I can raise them temporarily," she explained. "It was a gift from Kanaloa, something I received during our time in Hawai'i. It's not true necromancy; it's more like an enhancement or a temporary possession. The dead villagers in Salem… I can't create those. That was the work of the pillars."

She glanced toward the horizon as if expecting something to rise from it.

"The witches of that time opened a weak gate. They needed a key, LeFay's descendant. Without her, they could only release a fragment of what the first wave truly was. When your portal opened, it turned eighty percent of the muggles worldwide in matters of weeks."

Jakob stared at her, not truly able to comprehend the horrified picture she was painting up.

"That's why I brought you here," she finished in a soft and pleading tone. "Please, Jakob. Promise me."

The teenage boy could only nod in response, but seeing her look and the fact that she wanted him to verbally confirm, he cleared his throat. "I promise I won't open the gate," he said, still trying to make sense of it all. "But… Pansy, are you the only one left?"

She didn't answer.

Instead, she guided him to another rune circle carved a few meters beside the already scorched earth.

"If the demons find another way to enter our world, use the dementors," she said. "Ekrizdis was right about them. They were a formidable force. They'll serve you well."

Jakob felt the pull of the runes beginning to stir as she placed him inside the circle again. When he realised what was happening and what she was about to do, Jakob reached out and grabbed her black-veined hand.

"Come with me," he said. "You can start anew. In my world, with me. I'll protect you. I swear it."

The woman smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, her touch brief but lingering just long enough to steal his breath.

"You already have your Pansy," she said calmly. "And I can't leave him. I'm everything he has left; he'll have no one if I go. But you still have the chance to change everything."

Jakob gave a slight nod, his throat tightening as he reached into his pouch, his fingers finding the familiar texture of the sand. His other hand moved to the pocket where the last sphere rested.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Pansy," he said quietly as he looked into her eyes.

Her expression softened, and for a second, she almost looked like the girl he remembered. "Thank you," she said. "It means a lot… hearing you finally say it."

Before either of them could say more, the air shifted. A gust rolled across the ground, and from the distance, a spiral of shadow began to form, twisting upward into a small tornado of pure darkness.

Pansy turned sharply, narrowing her eyes, knowing fully what it was. Her body tensed in preparation, her eyes darting from the tornado back to Jakob.

"He's coming," she said with urgency. "You need to go. Now."

Jakob hesitated, looking momentarily confused until the shadows broke apart, and something stepped forward.

A tall and familiar figure emerged from the vortex, and Jakob's blood ran cold.

It was him... or some older version of him, but he looked... infected. Wrong.

The man's face was twisted, his features barely human. Torn black wings stretched from his back like broken sails and thick black veins coiled down his neck. His eyes glowed faintly beneath the mess of hair that hung over his face, and when he smiled, Jakob saw the same fangs that Pansy had shown him.

"You won't change anything," the creature snarled, his voice sounding nothing like it should have.

Jakob's expression shifted to pure rage, grabbing the sphere. "I'll kill myself before I ever become you, you disgusting piece of shit!" he yelled, raising his middle finger to the older version of himself. "I would never betray the people I love!"

The monster raised his arm, and a burst of pitch-black magic exploded from his palm, tearing across the clearing directly toward Jakob.

But the moment before it reached him, the runes beneath his feet activated. Light shot up around him, spinning into motion as the sphere triggered. Jakob vanished in a blur of golden sparks and pulled through the portal just as the black energy crashed into where he had stood.

Back to the present timeline.

The runes began glowing again, brighter this time, prompting Dumbledore and Thomas to swiftly draw their wands, ready to defend Jakob from whatever might follow him back.

The blinding flash returned, stronger than before, forcing them to briefly shield their eyes.

When the glare faded, an unconscious boy lay sprawled on the scorched grass.

Thomas immediately rushed forward without a word, dropping to his knees beside his heir. He desperately pressed two fingers to Jakob's neck, searching for a pulse, and when he finally found it, he briefly closed his eyes and let out a breath of relief.

"He's alive," Thomas said quietly, his eyes never leaving his son. "But I need to get him to St. Mungo's. Now."

Emma hurried over, kneeling beside her father as she pressed a gentle hand to her brother's forehead.

"Father, he's burning up."

"I've lowered the wards," Dumbledore informed calmly. "You can go."

Thomas grasped Jakob's limp shoulders, and with a small pop, they vanished. Emma glanced toward Ivy and Pansy, noticing the anxiety etched on their faces. A moment later, another small pop echoed through the garden as she, too, disappeared.

Left behind, Ivy and Pansy exchanged uncertain glances, neither girl breaking the silence. Jakob had become their constant companion over the past three months, a calm anchor amid all the chaos that had surrounded them. Without him, the two girls felt unbearably vulnerable, as if the safety he'd provided had vanished along with him.

No one seemed to notice the faint traces of ash on the boy's robes or the subtle scent of charred fabric lingering in the air—no one except Dumbledore. His brow creased deeply in thought as he led the two families back towards the school. Unspoken questions filled his mind: Where had Jakob been? And What secret knowledge had he brought back with him?

---

Jakob slowly opened his eyes, the glare of morning sunlight streaming through the window and irritating him awake. He blinked as his vision gradually sharpened until he noticed Emma. She was curled up in a chair beside his bed, fast asleep. Her usually pristine blonde hair was dishevelled, falling loosely over half her face, and redness lined the edges of her closed eyes. Her arms were crossed protectively across her chest, her wand gripped firmly in her left hand as if she expected danger at any moment.

Jakob watched her for a long, quiet moment, the familiar irritation and betrayal he'd carried towards her since their last encounter fading.

She was his sister, after all. She could sometimes get stubborn and hot-headed, but Emma had always been fiercely protective of him. A faint smile crossed his lips as he remembered how only Bella could rival Emma in her way of caring for him.

He gently cleared his throat, startling Emma awake. She jerked upright in the chair, eyes wide and immediately alert.

"Are you alright?" she asked urgently, quickly leaning forward and feeling his forehead. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

Jakob chuckled softly, offering a reassuring smile.

"You know," he said lightly, "you could've gone home and gotten some rest. I'd still have been here when you got back."

Emma didn't answer or even acknowledge that she had heard what he had said. Instead, she rose for her chair and wrapped her arms tightly around him. Jakob caught off guard at first, returned the hug warmly.

The tension she'd held in check for days finally broke, and her body began to shake as her tears spilt freely onto his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Jakob," she whispered in a trembling voice. "I fucked up, and I've regretted it ever since. I won't ever do something that stupid again. I promise."

Jakob tightened the embrace and began rubbing comforting circles on her back. "I'm sorry, too. I guess we're both too stubborn sometimes. It's probably the Quade blood." He chuckled. "Let's just forget it, alright?"

Emma couldn't answer verbally. Instead, she sobbed quietly against his shoulder, finally releasing all the guilt and anxiety she'd been holding inside. Jakob allowed her the moment and continued to comfort her as the minutes passed.

Eventually, when Emma's tears began to slow, and Jakob's shoulder had grown noticeably damp, he shifted restlessly against the stiff hospital pillows.

"It's alright, Emma. I'm fine. Everything's going to be fine," he reassured.

The blonde pulled back slightly, wiping her reddened eyes as she chuckled quietly.

"You were gone for so long. I didn't want to believe you were…," she hesitated, and her voice lowered so it could barely be heard, "gone for good. Especially considering how we left things. But now you're sitting here, smiling at me."

"It's like a dream come true," Jakob replied dryly, attempting to ease the tension. Emma shot him a mock pout, but in truth, she had missed his sarcasm, and she would never take it for granted again.

Then, an unpleasant memory popped. Jakob's smile slowly faded, and his expression hardened. "Is he here?"

Emma sighed, leaning back into the uncomfortable hospital chair with a quiet creak.

"The one you call Him, your father, has a name." she reminded him in a firm but still gentle tone. "And no, he's away at the moment." Jakob scoffed and crossed his arms, turning his gaze away towards the window. Emma, seeing the reaction, tried to reason with him. "Jakob, Father did everything in his power to bring you back. He hasn't been himself since you disappeared. He cares about you, even if he's sometimes too proud to show it. Trust me, he regrets what he did."

Jakob ignored Emma's words, pushing himself up to sit properly in the bed, making the stiff sheets rustle as he moved. He glanced briefly at the sterile, pale-green walls of the hospital room and the small tray table littered with untouched potions and half-empty water glasses before looking back at his sister.

"Pansy and Potter got back alright?"

Emma noticed his deliberate shift in topic and, understanding her brother's stubbornness, decided to humour him. She leaned back, folding her arms as an amused smile returned to her face.

"They did. When they told us you'd been dragged away by something, I could understand Miss Parkinson's reaction," she remarked casually. Her expression darkened slightly, her lips tightening in mild distaste. "But why on earth would that blood traitor act like she cared about you? You haven't been too close to her, right?"

Jakob frowned deeply at the venom in his sister's voice.

"We were sent back in time, Emma. We had no choice but to cooperate and fight together. We even won a war," Jakob stated firmly, giving her a look that matched his tone. "Potter might be a blood traitor, but she did her part to get us home. She deserves some respect for that."

Emma stared at him, momentarily baffled. "You fought a war?" she asked incredulously, her eyes widening at the faint smirk now forming on Jakob's lips.

"The start of it was beautiful. The chaos, the rage." He trailed off as if reliving the glorious moment for a bit. "It was really awesome," Jakob spoke softly, his voice distant and eyes strangely bright, reminiscent of Luna when she'd drift into her own world. But the brief excitement faded as his expression darkened.

"Then I saw them murdering innocents, children, and suddenly, it wasn't so glorious anymore."

Emma watched her brother in silent awe as Jakob retold the story of the first crusade and the things he had accomplished there. Emma had asked a few questions but had been more interested in listening to the story, and when he was done, she just sat there, momentarily lost for words. They sat quietly for several long seconds, both lost in their own thoughts, until Jakob shook his head, pulling himself back to reality.

"Well," he muttered, shifting restlessly against the stiff sheets. "I need to take a walk."

Emma immediately looked worried, raising a hesitant hand as if to stop him.

"You shouldn't do that, the healers said—"

"I don't care what the healers said," Jakob interrupted sharply, his voice leaving no room for debate. "Just give me a moment to get dressed."

Emma paused with a protest on the tip of her tongue before her shoulders slumped and instead nodded reluctantly. Another argument was the last thing she wanted now.

"If you feel anything at all, you'll call for help, alright?" she said firmly, meeting his eyes. Jakob gave a short, impatient nod, watching her until she finally closed the door, leaving him alone in the quiet hospital room.

Jakob glanced down at his pale, sterile gown and wrinkled his nose in disgust before quickly pulling it off. He grabbed the neatly folded black clothes lying on the nightstand, tugging them on with quick, purposeful movements. He reached for the glass of water next to the pile, downing its contents in two large gulps before setting it firmly back onto the small table.

When Jakob stepped out of his room, he paused, taking in the sterile corridor of white walls accented with pale blue trim.

"Not exactly Hogwarts grounds or my backyard, but it'll have to do," he muttered to himself, striding forward as his thoughts drifted back to the things he'd witnessed in the future.

"Shit, I really messed up. How could I turn out like that? How could I let Pansy…" he mumbled quietly to himself, dragging a hand through his hair. "She summoned Draco's corpse like it was nothing."

A cold and unsettling shiver passed through him as the memory of Draco's decaying face resurfaced in his mind. He shook his head sharply, trying to clear the image.

"I need to figure out how I opened that damned portal," he whispered firmly, narrowing his eyes in determination. "To make sure I don't accidentally open a new door like the one that took us back in time."

He released a frustrated sigh, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. "Still," he sighed. "Opening that portal was the best idea I had to deal with the muggles. Well, back to the drawing board, I guess."

A sudden voice nearby pulled Jakob from his thoughts, making him glance towards an open door on his right. He halted abruptly as recognition flickered across his face.

"Finnigan?" Jakob murmured, glancing briefly down the empty hallway before cautiously stepping inside.

The older boy sat on a chair near the window, gently swaying back and forth while staring blankly out at nothing in particular. Jakob's stomach tightened slightly. This was the same Finnigan who'd bullied Hermione back in their first year, the only casualty from the night Potter had foolishly forced him to face that troll. The boy whom Dumbledore had calmly assured everyone had gone home, perfectly fine, due to his mother's insistence.

Jakob stepped closer, examining him more carefully. A large, jagged scar ran along the right side of Finnigan's head, leaving a bald, pinkish mark stretching from his hairline to the back of his skull. His arms were drawn tightly against his chest, his hands twisted, and his fingers twitching involuntarily every few seconds. Finnigan continued swaying rhythmically, emitting a low, haunting hum as he gazed unblinkingly through the windowpane.

Jakob slowly lowered himself into the chair beside Seamus. As he did, he noticed Seamus turning his head awkwardly towards him, a strange smile creeping onto the injured boy's face as he tried to speak.

Jakob frowned in confusion, hearing only a series of unintelligible grunts and moans. Before he could respond, however, a soft voice startled him from the doorway.

"Are you a friend of Seamus?" asked a woman warmly, entering the room carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a bundle of old photographs in the other.

Jakob, feeling a bit uncomfortable, rose quickly. "Um... sort of. We were in the same year," he answered, shifting awkwardly. "I should get going..."

"Oh, please don't leave," the woman insisted gently, setting down her pictures on a small, cluttered table near the bed. "Seamus rarely gets visitors anymore, and it means so much to him. Forgive my manners—I'm Mrs Finnigan."

She extended her hand with a tired yet genuinely warm smile on her face. Jakob reached out, shaking her hand and noticed that the woman had dark circles beneath her eyes, probably caused by the sleepless nights she spent caring for her son.

"Felix Tolly," Jakob lied smoothly, inclining his head slightly in polite greeting. "You mentioned he hasn't had visitors? He had plenty of friends in his house—haven't any of them—?"

"No," Mrs Finnigan interrupted softly, though her expression remained hopeful. "I imagine they're all busy with school and such. Isn't that right, Seamus?"

She gently stroked her son's head, but Seamus had already lost interest, resuming his blank stare out the window.

"Imagine that," Jakob replied dryly, masking the bitterness that crept into his voice. Of course, the golden group doesn't give a shit about the boy who didn't make it, he thought coldly.

Mrs Finnigan returned her gaze toward Jakob, her expression turning hesitant but hopeful. "I was actually just on my way to grab a bite to eat. Would you mind keeping Seamus company for a few moments? I promise I'll be quick—five minutes at most."

Jakob nodded, forcing a polite smile as the visibly relieved woman quickly headed toward the door.

"I promise I'll be right back," she said, her voice trailing softly down the hall as she left.

Jakob waited a few moments before turning back toward Seamus, his gaze hardening as he stared down at the boy, now trapped forever in a damaged mind.

"So," he murmured, leaning slightly closer, "this is what awaits those who follow a false hero. They get forgotten and abandoned, left in a sterile room for the rest of their life."

He studied Seamus carefully, taking in the twitching limbs and blank stare. Jakob felt a brief pang of something close to pity, and in that pity, he thought of a reason to help the poor sod. Perhaps Harry would finally break once he saw Seamus again.

Making the scar head's life miserable was a good enough reason to do anything.

Jakob reached out and pressed his palm against the jagged scar on Seamus's head. A faint red glow appeared beneath his fingertips, casting an eerie light across the pale, damaged skin.

Seamus's cramped hands and rigid arms gradually relaxed beneath Jakob's touch as the healing magic worked its way through the damaged nerves. His relentless swaying slowed, then finally stopped altogether, leaving him completely still for the first time since Jakob had entered the room. The empty, distant stare faded, and clarity slowly returned to the boy's eyes.

Jakob withdrew his hand and watched quietly as Seamus slowly raised his face in disbelief.

"What did you… I—I can speak?" Seamus rasped hoarsely as he cautiously tested his voice with wide eyes. He moved his fingers experimentally, twisting his wrists and clenching his fists, astonished that he once again had full control over them.

Jakob allowed himself a faint, satisfied smile before turning toward the doorway.

"Thank you," Seamus whispered, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "Thank you so much."

Jakob paused briefly at the threshold, turning his head just enough to meet Seamus's grateful gaze with a serious look of warning.

"Tell no one it was me," Jakob cautioned firmly. "I gave you this second chance and can easily take it away. Use it well."

Seamus nodded fervently as tears began spilling freely down his cheeks. His fingers continued to flex and clench, letting out a quiet laugh, a sound that felt strange and unfamiliar to the healed boy.

Jakob stepped quietly into the brightly lit corridor, immediately finding himself face-to-face with Mrs Finnigan. She halted abruptly, startled by his unexpected presence.

"Oh, I just forgot—" she began apologetically, but her voice faded into stunned silence as a joyous cry suddenly echoed from the room behind Jakob.

"Mum! Mum, come in here! Mum!" Seamus called out urgently in a clear, vibrant, and unmistakably joyful voice.

Mrs Finnigan's eyes widened in shock, her gaze darting to Jakob as if silently pleading with him to confirm that this wasn't another cruel trick her mind had created like it had countless nights before. Jakob met her searching eyes and nodded reassuringly, gesturing gently toward the open doorway.

"I think your son wants to show you something," he said quietly.

Without another word, Mrs Finnigan rushed past Jakob into the room. Moments later, her joyous sobs joined her son's laughter, their shared relief spilling out into the corridor and drawing the immediate attention of nearby healers and nurses. Confused shouts and hurried footsteps filled the hallway as the staff rushed past Jakob, mistakenly believing something had gone terribly wrong as none had expected the boy's miraculous recovery.

Jakob stepped away from the commotion with a small smile playing on his lips as he tucked his hands casually into his pockets. As he moved slowly down the hallway, one nurse accidentally bumped his shoulder in her urgency, but Jakob barely acknowledged the brief contact or her whispered apology. His attention remained fixed ahead, the faintly amused expression growing as he heard the voices of amazement and disbelief from the personnel mixed behind him with the joyful sobs of the reunited family.

"See, Ivy," he murmured softly to himself, chuckling quietly. "I'm not always a monster. I can be good sometimes, too."

After the healing incident, Jakob returned quietly to his own room, closing the door firmly behind him before settling into his hospital bed. He pulled his bag closer and began to inspect its contents, ensuring nothing had been damaged or lost during his turbulent journey back.

"I'd really hate it if my armour got damaged," Jakob sighed softly to himself, visibly relaxing as he lifted the familiar crusader set from his bag and carefully laid it out on the bed. His fingers moved fondly over the polished metal and carefully woven cloth, checking each piece with evident pride.

A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts, and before he had given permission for his guest to enter, Thomas stepped briskly into the room, pausing abruptly as his eyes fell upon the knight's armour spread across the bed. Whatever he'd been about to say was forgotten, replaced by confusion as he studied the strange sight.

"Isn't that what muggles used to wear when they fought their wars?"

Jakob nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed warmly on the armour, almost as if it were a cherished pet.

"I did fight in a war, one we won, actually," Jakob replied lightly, a slight chuckle slipping out as he finally met his father's questioning eyes. "They called me the Red Knight."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised, and sank down into the stiff chair beside the bed. "You fought a war? And how exactly did you earn a title like that?"

"We stormed a city called Jerusalem; there was an ingredient there I needed to get back. When we arrived, the war had already started, and we picked the attacking side to enter the city." The teen shrugged. "and I killed a lot of people to get what I needed." Jakob answered simply, his tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with pride. "They named me the Red Knight because I was covered in blood by the end."

Thomas watched him carefully, noting the unmistakable arrogance creeping into his son's voice. He knew Jakob was formidable, both magically and mentally, yet the boy had much to learn before he could truly carry the heavy mantle he seemed all too eager to embrace.

"Killing a few men doesn't make you a great warrior, Jakob," Thomas replied calmly. "There's far more to war than just—"

"I didn't just kill men, Father," Jakob interrupted, his voice suddenly sharper. "When I was younger, you told me stories about the First Wizarding War. About how our side was winning under Lord Voldemort, remember?"

Thomas frowned slightly, giving a cautious nod. "Yes, of course. But what does—"

Jakob's eyes drifted again to the armour, his voice softening but also growing colder.

"You always told it like every battle was glorious, like every victory held honour. But you never mentioned the civilians who got caught in the middle. The children who had to die because death was the only mercy left."

Thomas fell silent, briefly observing the haunted look flicker across his son's features. Maybe his heir was closer to the mantle than he had given him credit for. The older man sighed and leaned forward, considering his words carefully.

"War isn't just glory, son," Thomas finally admitted with a quiet note of resignation. "Some of it is, yes, but if people knew all the horrors beforehand, nobody would ever willingly fight for what's right."

Jakob scoffed bitterly, shaking his head in disagreement. "I'd never expect those who follow me into battle to do the things I had to without telling them first. Loyalty can't be earned through lies or by hiding the truth."

Thomas drew breath to respond, but Jakob waved dismissively, cutting him off impatiently. "Enough about that. Why are you here?"

Lord Quade's expression hardened slightly at Jakob's open disrespect, though he chose not to pursue it immediately.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Thomas replied evenly. "Once you're strong enough, you, Miss Parkinson and that blood traitor are expected at the Ministry for an interview with Rita Skeeter."

Jakob raised a sceptical eyebrow, unsure if this was some kind of joke, but Thomas only sighed heavily, clearly displeased himself.

"The Ministry wanted to be here the moment you returned. Agreeing to an interview was the only way we could keep those savages at bay," Thomas explained reluctantly.

Jakob shrugged, uninterested. "Fine, I can do it tomorrow," he answered with a tone which clearly indicated that he wanted to end the conversation.

Thomas hesitated and searched the room for something more to say, unwilling to leave just yet.

"Did you only fight that war," he tried carefully, "or did you have other adventures you wish to discuss?"

Jakob gave his father a questioning look, wondering why Thomas had that tone in his voice, sounding almost like a worried parent. "No." Was the only reply Jakob offered, and he silently started to pack away his armour piece by piece into the bag beside him.

Recognising he would get nothing further out of his son now, Thomas stood up sharply and turned towards the door, irritation finally creeping into his expression.

"You haven't even said you're sorry," Jakob remarked suddenly, his voice cold and accusatory.

Thomas paused, turning back slowly, visibly fed up with his son's attitude.

"You almost killed your sister," Lord Quade hissed, narrowing his eyes into a dangerous glare.

Jakob didn't flinch and instead gave a mocking shrug. "She should've thought about that before trying to rupture my eardrums," he shot back coldly before returning the glare. "And you cursed me for defending myself."

Thomas scoffed at the absurdity of his statement. "It's not defence when your opponent is already dying, boy."

Jakob laughed, having made the old man say exactly what he had wanted him to say. "So what do you call what you did then? I was unarmed, and you used the Cruciatus on me."

Thomas's jaw tightened as he took a step closer. "I call that punishment, you insolent, little pest. You are not the lord of this house. You will learn your place or be—"

"You won't cast me out," Jakob cut in, knowing full well where his father was going.

Thomas stopped short, furrowing his brow at his son's certainty.

"I don't know why, but I matter to you," Jakob continued in a quieter, knowing tone. "If you could've dishonoured me, you'd have done it already. You'd have handed everything to Emma, including the title."

Thomas frowned as confusion broke through his rising anger. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? Why would you think you don't matter to me?"

Jakob's lips curled into a faint smirk. "I know how you and Mother met. I can only imagine what you really felt when the dark lord arranged it. You hated it. I think you resented being pushed into it. And then I came along not long after."

The blood drained slightly from Thomas's face, and his expression flickered from shock to guarded caution.

"Who told you that?" he asked in a low tone. "Who filled your head with those lies?"

"Lies?" Jakob asked softly in mock surprise. He leaned back slightly, narrowing his eyes as he studied his father closely. "They're not lies, Father. Emma was already born, pureblood, through and through, and everything you needed. There is only one possible explanation for why the dark lord forced all this. Emma's mother was already dead by the time you married mine."

Jakob paused briefly, watching Thomas's expression, which remained carefully blank.

"You favour her so clearly, yet you raise me as if I'm some prized breed, polished but tightly controlled. That tells me I'm valuable to someone you either deeply respect... or fear."

Thomas stood silently, his composure nearly flawless, but Jakob caught the subtle tightening of his jaw, the slight hesitation, the conscious choice not to argue.

"Does Emma know?" Jakob finally asked in a levelled voice.

Thomas's shoulders slumped slightly, and he nodded. "I told her when you disappeared," he replied with a sigh.

Jakob nodded slowly, sinking back down onto the hospital bed, relaxing his posture slightly as if the conflict had stolen the little energy he had had.

"You might not love me like a son," Jakob said quietly, fixing his gaze toward the window, "but at least give me the decency of honesty. I spent years trying to be just like you. Trying to earn your approval. Trying to make you look at me the way you look at her."

Thomas took a step forward, closing some of the distance between them. "I won't lie to you about the past, Jakob. I didn't love your mother the way I loved Emma's. That much is true." He said in a softer voice, carrying an unfamiliar sincerity.

Jakob remained perfectly still as he listened carefully to every word.

"But when I first saw you, when she placed you into my arms, everything changed," Thomas continued gently. "You made me care for her in ways I didn't think were possible. She gave me you, and for that, I gave her everything the Quade family had to offer."

A heavy silence followed until Thomas eventually turned and moved quietly towards the door. Jakob didn't watch him leave, his eyes still staring blankly at the muted reflection in the window.

He heard the soft click of the door closing, and only then did Jakob let out a disappointed sigh.

"So it wasn't you who killed her," Jakob whispered bitterly. He had hoped that he had solved the mystery, but now he only felt more questions arise in his head.

---

The following morning, Jakob was escorted through the bustling corridors of the Ministry by both his father and Minister Fudge himself. The minister was animated, clearly delighted at having such notable company, while Thomas quietly observed their surroundings with mild impatience.

"This won't take long, I hope?" Thomas remarked sharply. "He needs to return to school as soon as possible."

Fudge chuckled nervously, glancing sideways at Jakob. "School? Suppose the rumours about your son being taught personally by the Hogwarts founders are true. In that case, he's surely more than ready to pursue a career here in the ministry, wouldn't you agree, Heir Quade?"

Jakob offered the minister a charming but carefully detached smile.

"They certainly taught me plenty, Minister," Jakob replied lightly. "But I can't imagine a future here. It's a nice enough little place, certainly suitable for those without a clear purpose in life."

Fudge, oblivious to the subtle insult, returned the smile enthusiastically. Thomas discreetly shook his head, silently despairing at the minister's obliviousness as they continued down the hall.

Shortly after, they reached a large set of polished wooden doors, and the minister gestured grandly for Jakob to enter first.

Jakob inclined his head respectfully toward both men before stepping calmly into the room. Inside, Ivy and Pansy were already seated on one side of a large, ornate table. Pansy appeared thoroughly bored, tapping her fingers lightly on the polished surface, while Ivy had just reached out to take a chocolate muffin from an extravagant basket at the centre.

Both girls glanced quickly towards the door as Jakob entered, immediately rising from their seats, ready to approach him. Jakob subtly raised a hand, signalling for them to remain where they were; his attention suddenly focused sharply on one of the walls.

They were watching them. His father had warned him before they had taken floo to the Ministry: they would be observing every move they made. Although it officially was an interview, Jakob knew this was just as much a test, a controlled environment for the Unspeakable to study their reactions and behaviour after being the first magicals to ever travel so far into the past.

Seeing Jakob's subtle gesture, Ivy and Pansy quietly returned to their seats, exchanging quick, uncertain glances.

Jakob settled calmly into the empty chair placed between them and waited patiently for the reporter's arrival.

The door swung open just as Jakob reached across the polished table to take one of the blueberry muffins.

Rita Skeeter strode confidently into the room, followed closely by a photographer whose eyes scanned the scene hungrily for a perfect shot.

"Ah. Wonderful. How…marvellous," Rita said dramatically, smiling broadly as she took her seat opposite them. With practised ease, she opened her bright crocodile-skin handbag. A green quill and notebook floated up and hovered attentively beside her, ready to record every word.

The curly-haired blonde adjusted her bejewelled spectacles, eyeing each of the three students in turn. With an almost lazy flick of her hand, the quill began scratching eagerly against the parchment, breaking the silence of the room.

Pansy shifted slightly in her seat, eyeing the reporter with a thinly veiled, discomforting look, while Ivy cast cautious glances between Rita and Jakob while nervously twisting the edge of her sleeve.

Jakob, however, remained completely unbothered by the journalist's piercing gaze. His focus stayed entirely on unwrapping the muffin, gently peeling away the paper as though it were the most interesting task in the room.

"It's so good to see you all safe and sound," Rita Skeeter began brightly, flashing an overly sweet smile as she leaned forward.

"My name, as you surely know, is Rita Skeeter, and I'll be asking you a few questions about your recent adventure. I trust that's acceptable?"

"Why is she talking to us like we're mentally ill?" Pansy whispered quietly to Jakob, scowling slightly as she spoke.

Mid-bite of his muffin, Jakob nudged her gently in warning while Ivy fought back a quiet snort of laughter.

Rita tilted her head slightly, clearly puzzled by their whispered exchange. The older woman quickly regained composure, though, and turned to Ivy, the quill waiting eagerly to start taking notes.

"Miss Potter," she began sweetly with an almost false interest. "What was your first reaction upon realising you'd travelled back in time?"

Ivy hesitated, clearly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny. "Um… confused, I suppose?"

Feeling his appetite rising after downing his first muffin, Jakob casually reached for another, carefully unwrapping it as Rita's face showed faint disappointment at Ivy's simple answer. The reporter quickly shifted her attention to Pansy instead.

"Miss Parkinson," Skeeter continued smoothly with a knowing smile spreading across her lips, "was there a moment during your ordeal when you feared for your boyfriend's life?"

Jakob glanced sideways at Pansy, his eyes glinting with amusement as he awaited her response.

Caught off guard by the question, Pansy squirmed in her seat. "He is not my boyfriend."

Rita merely shrugged, giving the three students an innocent smile before leaning towards the black fringe girl again with a faint hunger in her eyes. "That's not what my sources say, dear. And tell me, how did you feel upon discovering that Miss Potter shared those same romantic feelings?"

Jakob sighed and rolled his eyes at her blatant attempt at creating gossip, interrupting Rita's advance before Pansy could react.

"With all due respect, Ms…" he trailed off deliberately.

"Skeeter," the reporter replied curtly, her cheerful façade faltering slightly.

"Right. Ms Skeeter," Jakob continued with exaggerated politeness, "wouldn't it be more productive to focus on real questions instead of wasting time on baseless gossip?"

Rita's smile turned brittle as she reluctantly tucked her initial notebook away and retrieved a fresh one from her crocodile-skin bag.

"Very well," she conceded, eyeing Jakob with mild annoyance. "Then perhaps we'll start with you, Heir Quade. Could you perhaps share your thoughts about the Hogwarts founders? What were your impressions of their personalities?"

Jakob appeared thoughtful for a moment, carefully considering his answer before speaking.

"They were all essentially as I imagined," he began calmly, meeting Rita's eager gaze with a composed expression, "with one major exception. Slytherin wasn't at all who I'd expected him to be."

Rita immediately sat straighter in her chair, her quill scribbling faster as she leaned forward slightly, clearly sensing a valuable scoop.

"Do go on," she encouraged, her voice practically purring in anticipation of a headline.

Jakob glanced briefly at the two girls beside him, noticing how they suddenly seemed very interested, knowing perfectly well he was weaving a lie. He leaned forward and continued in a voice that sounded like the words were only for Rita to hear.

"I studied directly under Lord Slytherin, and one day, we spoke about our present war and the importance of blood purity," Jakob said as if confessing a minor crime, allowing the silence to stretch as he waited for the journalist to ask for more.

"And what did he say?" Rita questioned impatiently, looking at the boy with wide eyes.

"He wasn't pleased," Jakob replied slowly with a troubled expression. "In fact, he was furious. Slytherin immediately cursed me." He paused dramatically, catching a glimpse of Ivy's startled face beside him while Pansy Struggled not to roll her eyes at his theatrics.

Rita leaned even closer, her eyes bright with fascination. "Lord Slytherin cursed you?"

"He did," Jakob continued sombrely, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper, "then he scolded me for what felt like hours for blindly believing the things I'd been taught about blood purity. He didn't understand why wizards of our time believed magical strength was exclusive to pureblood families. He insisted that Mud—" Jakob visibly flinched, as though recalling sharp pain, carefully feigning hesitation to utter the slur. "—that Muggle-borns deserved proper magical education."

Rita looked momentarily worried, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern, but her curiosity outweighed caution.

"Go on," she prompted gently. "This is a safe space."

Jakob barely met her eyes and nodded, taking a steadying breath. "He wanted Muggle-born children to be brought secretly into the wizarding world and trained at Hogwarts without informing their parents. The other founders thought his suggestion barbaric, kidnapping children from their homes, but I understood his reasoning," Jakob explained with a convincingly earnest tone.

"And why was that?" Rita pressed, pausing her quill above the parchment.

"Because Muggles were dangerous," Jakob answered firmly, looking at her with an unwavering gaze. "They hunted down our kind, burning witches and wizards, even their own people, simply out of suspicion of magical association."

The room grew silent. Rita stared intently at Jakob, her quill still frozen mid-air. Ivy glanced sideways at him, stunned, silently questioning his words. She longed to protest, to reveal the truth—that Jakob was lying—but she held her tongue, unsure of his intentions. Beside her, Pansy observed carefully, hiding her curiosity behind an indifferent mask.

Jakob shrugged calmly and concluded his speech with an air of quiet confidence. "Slytherin was powerful and wise. Perhaps he saw what would happen if we continued hiding away. Now, the Muggles are a greater threat than we could ever have imagined."

Rita paused for several moments, absorbing Jakob's words carefully before finally nodding and rising from her seat.

"Thank you all for your time," she said quickly in a distracted tone as she hastily gathered her belongings and exited the room, closely followed by her photographer.

As the door closed behind them, Ivy and Pansy both turned simultaneously toward Jakob, giving him matching expressions of deep confusion and apparent disbelief.

"Not here," Jakob replied quietly, avoiding their questioning gazes. He quickly shifted his attention back to the muffins, silently signalling the conversation was over.

---

When the Ministry officials finally returned them to Hogwarts, the trio was escorted directly to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore stood waiting for them, offering a brief but genuine welcome.

His sharp and thoughtful eye lingered on Jakob for just a moment longer than the others as though attempting to read something hidden beneath the boy's composed exterior.

Beside the headmaster stood Harry, Hermione and Ron, and Ivy immediately re-joined her waiting friends without another word. She didn't look back at Pansy or Jakob, just as they had talked about before.

He felt a gentle nudge at his elbow as Pansy indicated they also should leave.

The two Slytherins descended the grand staircase together, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble steps.

"Jake," Pansy whispered anxiously as they approached the Slytherin common room entrance. "You realise this will have serious consequences, right? You just told the entire wizarding world the Dark Lord built his war on lies."

Jakob nodded calmly with an unreadable expression. "I know. But the world needs to change and quickly. I won't stand by and watch it burn."

Pansy studied his face carefully, recognising the firm resolve in his eyes. He wore that expression rarely, but when he did, it usually meant something significant had changed in him.

"You're going to tell me everything when we're back in the dorm," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Promise."

Jakob stopped mid-step, looking down at the dark-haired girl beside him. For an unsettling moment, he saw her as he'd seen her in that dark future, the pale skin threaded with black veins, the sharp fangs, the painful words she had spoken. He shook the image away, meeting her concerned gaze with a reassuring nod.

"I'll never shut you out, Pansy," he said softly, a quiet sincerity threading every word. "I promise."

As they had reached the entrance, Pansy shot Jakob a small, mischievous smirk. "You better not." She said just before leaning forward and speaking the password.

The hidden door swung open and revealed a scene neither had expected. The entire common room burst into cheers the moment they stepped inside. Above their heads, vibrant green-and-silver fireworks popped and crackled, casting playful sparks across the stone walls, while an enchanted banner floated gently in the middle of the room, reading: Welcome Back, Quade and Parkinson!

Jakob and Pansy exchanged surprised smiles as their friends eagerly crowded around them. Draco was first to step forward, a familiar smirk firmly in place.

"Welcome back, you two," he drawled, though his eyes showed genuine relief at their safe return.

Jakob didn't hesitate, pulling Draco into a firm, brotherly hug, causing the blonde boy's smirk to falter into genuine surprise.

"It's good to see you again, mate," Jakob said warmly, clapping him firmly on the back.

Draco chuckled awkwardly, clearly caught off guard but returning the gesture. "Blimey, did I die or something back there?"

Jakob paused as the memories of Draco's corpse flashed sharply through his mind, but he quickly masked it with a grin. "Nearly," he teased lightly. "But not quite."

The common room quickly filled with laughter and excited chatter, transforming the unusually calm and quiet room into a lively celebration. The hours passed swiftly, marked by joyful reunions and toasts to the two returning Slytherins.

Marcus Flint, ever the alcoholic, had made sure Jakob's hand was rarely empty, pressing shot after shot into his palm until the boy's head pleasantly spun, and the air grew stiflingly warm.

Eventually, the need for fresh air became undeniably apparent, making Jakob stumble slightly as he made his way toward the exit, ignoring Marcus's laughter behind him.

"Careful there, Quade," Marcus called after him, amused. "Try not to vanish on us again, yeah?"

Jakob waved Marcus off with an unsteady smile and stepped out of the common room, immediately soothed by the cool dungeon air against his flushed face. He inhaled deeply, savouring the quiet solitude of the deserted stone corridors as he began to wander upwards. His footsteps echoed softly around him, and though his stride lacked its usual steadiness, Jakob doubted anyone would punish him tonight.

Climbing the final steps, Jakob emerged into the open air, the sharp, chilled breeze bracing him pleasantly as he closed his eyes in relief. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to savour the peace of finally being home, away from the weight of everything he'd endured these past months.

His quiet reflection was, as usual, suddenly broken as a pair of slender arms slid around his waist from behind, wrapping around him in a possessive embrace. Jakob frowned and instinctively turned his head. But as his gaze locked to Ms Webb's familiar, piercing blue eyes, the drunk Slytherin relaxed immediately and let himself lean back into her embrace.

"Hello, little lamb," she whispered softly, her tone one of clear, amused affection.

Warmth filled Jakob's chest at the sound of her voice, and emboldened by the alcohol, he smiled and turned fully, pulling Bella into a tight embrace, tighter than he perhaps would have if he'd been sober.

"Merlin, I've missed you," he murmured, closing his eyes as he felt her arms tighten just as much protectively around him.

"I've missed you as well," she replied gently with a playful tone that barely masked her genuine concern. "You nearly made poor Bella worry herself sick."

Her fingers traced slow, soothing circles across his back before she drew away slightly, studying his face with narrowed eyes.

"But you really ought to get back to your dorm soon. The other teachers will begin their patrols shortly."

Jakob nodded slowly, stepping back and nearly stumbling. Bella's eyebrow rose in amused suspicion as she tilted her head to the side.

"Are you drunk, Heir Quade?" she asked softly, a wicked smirk playing across her lips.

"Of course not," Jakob replied, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "A Quade would never stoop so low as drunkenness," he added, deliberately mimicking his father's stern and dignified tone. Bella let out a soft, rare giggle, and Jakob smiled, continuing lightly, "I might be slightly affected, though."

Bella's eyes narrowed further, glittering mischievously as she drew out her wand, pointing it playfully toward him. "Are you lying to me, little lamb?"

He swiftly raised a hand in mock surrender, laughing quietly. "Honestly, you should have seen me back in Jerusalem. I once drank Godfrey under the table. In fact, if I could just find that chalice again…"

Her eyes sharpened instantly. "Chalice? What chalice?"

Jakob waved his hand dismissively, not having the focus to go into a detailed story. "Nothing important. Just a chalice I found and gifted to Morgan Le Fay. Apparently, she and I share a distant bloodline," he explained casually, holding up the hand bearing the ornate Le Fay ring.

Bellatrix's gaze widened in shock as she recognised the crest, but Jakob, comfortably numbed by the alcohol, failed to notice her reaction. Instead, he gallantly offered his arm with an exaggerated flourish. The older witch shook herself from her surprise and gave an almost flirtatious smile as she accepted his arm. Together, they slowly made their way back towards the dungeons.

The corridor stretched silent and empty around them, and for a fleeting moment, Bella found herself transported back to her own days as a student, wandering the dark halls in secret beside someone she'd desperately longed to be near. Jakob, who hadn't noticed the look on his teacher's face, broke their silence after a while, his voice carrying a sudden gravity.

"Bella," he began, still having eyes fixed forward. "Today, I told the wizarding world that Slytherin never truly believed in blood purity. I told them that his original vision aligned closer to Grindelwald's. The news will likely be printed in every newspaper by tomorrow."

Bella halted abruptly, turning to face him with a dangerous intensity that chased away the gentle moment they'd shared. "Why would you do something so reckless, Jakob?" she demanded in a sharp, almost worried whisper, narrowing her eyes at the boy beside her.

He turned his head and held her stare. "Because when Pansy and Miss Potter returned, something dragged me into the future. There was nothing left, Bella. Everyone I knew was dead."

Her fierce expression softened just slightly, replaced by quiet curiosity, as she nodded slowly, prompting him to continue.

"The wizarding world needs unity now more than ever," he explained in a firmer tone. "Continuing to tear ourselves apart over something as meaningless as blood purity will doom us all. Greater threats are at our doorsteps, and if the Muggles don't destroy us first, they'll be used by our true enemies as a weapon to attack us."

Bella's expression became thoughtful and then shifted to look almost sorrowful. She reached out her hand and gently caressed his cheek. "Your mother shared a similar sentiment once," she whispered softly. "She even tried reasoning with the Dark Lord himself about it. But I fear it was precisely that misguided idealism that led to her death.

Jakob's gaze sharpened immediately, scrutinising every tiny shift in her expression. "Was it the Dark Lord who killed my mother?" he asked bluntly.

Her fingertips tightened subtly against his cheek as her eyes darkened. "I honestly don't know," she admitted quietly, "but your mother was exceptionally powerful. The only ones capable of challenging her would have been the Dark Lord himself or perhaps Dumbledore. No one else would've stood a chance."

Jakob stared into her eyes a moment longer before finally nodding in acceptance. They resumed their slow pace, moving silently back toward the dungeon entrance.

Bella paused outside the doorway, pulling him close for one final embrace. Leaning in, her lips brushed his ear, whispering her last warning.

"You've chosen a dangerous path, little lamb," she breathed, worry colouring her tone. "You'll gain enemies, not just from within your own house, but everywhere. Stay vigilant, Jakob. You're playing a very dangerous game."

Slowly pulling away, she gave him one last lingering look before turning silently down the corridor. Jakob remained where he stood, swaying slightly as he watched her with a thoughtful expression until she disappeared around a corner.

"Well, she took that better than I expected." He chuckled.

A few seconds later, Jakob entered the Slytherin common room and found that the raucous celebrations had calmed down to a more comfortable atmosphere. His eyes roamed the room until he located his friends by the fire, deep in animated conversation. He made his way there, doing his utmost to appear regal and composed despite his intoxication.

"Jake, please tell Theo he's overreacting," Draco drawled irritably, shooting a scowl in Nott's direction. "They aren't that big of a problem."

"You'll have to be more specific than 'they'," Jakob replied, arching an eyebrow at the blond boy's vague complaint.

"Muggles," Draco clarified impatiently. "They're not a threat to us. The witches and wizards who've been killed by them were probably closer to squibs than magicals."

Jakob's expression darkened. "Wait, what do you mean 'killed by Muggles'?"

Realising Jakob had been completely unaware of recent events, Draco awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, looking slightly embarrassed. "Right, sorry. Forgot you've been away for months. Before you left, there were attacks on magical families in America. Similar incidents started happening in Europe shortly after, and now even three families here in Britain have been targeted."

Jakob frowned, suddenly far more sober than he'd felt moments before. "Do we know who's behind this? Are they organised attacks?"

Draco shrugged dismissively. "They were mostly nobodies. The families targeted were minor, low-status houses. Hardly worth the fuss."

Jakob exchanged a brief, meaningful glance with Pansy, who immediately reached discreetly into her robes, gripping her wand in quiet readiness. She knew him well enough to sense exactly what he was planning next.

Thankful that his roommate almost seemed able to read his mind sometimes, Jakob sighed deeply, stood, and stepped up onto the table before them without hesitation, carefully balancing himself. He raised his wand swiftly, casting a loud bang that silenced the room instantly. Every eye turned toward him, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. There was no turning back now.

"Everyone," Jakob began firmly, projecting his usual confidence even as his heart hammered loudly in his chest. "I have an announcement to make. Most of you know me already, but for formality's sake, my name is Jakob Quade."

A ripple of laughter and cheering rose from the crowd, clearly expecting something amusing or scandalous. Jakob calmly raised his hand, waiting for the crowd to silence.

"My close friend Draco here," Jakob gestured down to Draco, whose expression was slowly shifting from amusement to wariness, "just claimed that Muggles pose no real threat to us."

Another chorus of laughter filled the room, some even holding up their goblets in cheers to the Malfoy heir. Jakob held his composure, letting their voices fade before continuing with cold seriousness.

"I'm standing here tonight to tell you he's wrong," Jakob said clearly, his voice resonating through the common room, silencing even the lingering whispers from his previous statement as everyone now looked confused or warily as he continued. "Muggles have started showing their true colours, and we should all be deeply concerned."

A murmur of confusion spread quickly around the gathering. Jakob didn't allow anyone to interrupt him; instead, he sharply raised his voice.

"And before anyone argues against me, let me tell you something Lord Slytherin himself confided in me." The sudden silence was absolute, and every pair of wide eyes in the common room focused intently upon him. "Salazar Slytherin never intended for us to spill magical blood in the name of purity."

Gasps erupted, and Jakob noticed the shock reflected in their faces, a reaction he imagined even Rita Skeeter would've envied.

"He cursed me personally for informing him of our modern war," Jakob explained with deliberate clarity, "and instructed me to deliver this message: Lord Slytherin only ever wished for Muggle-born children to be quietly taken from their families for their safety and ours. He never advocated violence or cruelty against them."

"Lies!" shouted a voice angrily from the back of the crowd. Jakob calmly raised an eyebrow, searching for the speaker.

"Believe what you want," Jakob replied smoothly in a steady and unflinching tone. "I'm merely delivering the truth that was spoken by the greatest of our four founders."

"And why exactly should we believe a word you say?" snarled the same voice bitterly, growing louder as its owner pushed forward. "Sounds to me like you're nothing but a filthy blood traitor."

Jakob glanced down, his expression sharpening into careful neutrality as he recognised Rosier stepping into the spotlight with her wand drawn and her eyes narrowed in open hostility.

Pansy, who stood quietly positioned on the floor next to the table, silently aimed it directly at Rosier. The dark-blonde witch stared coldly back at Pansy, her own wand rising sharply in response.

Noticing Rosier's wand shift toward Pansy, Jakob moved before most had time to register it. His wand slid smoothly into his hand; the incantation whispered so softly it was mistaken for wordless casting by some of the onlookers. A sharp red flash burst through the air, and Rosier's wand was ripped from her grasp. It skidded across the stone floor and spun to a stop several feet away.

"You should know what happens to those who threaten my friends," Jakob stated in a deceptively calm voice, with a warning clearly threaded beneath his words.

Several students allied with Rosier exchanged wary glances before they, too, reached for their wands. Jakob raised his hands slowly, offering a placating smile.

"I'm not seeking a fight," Jakob explained evenly as he addressed the tense crowd. "You want proof I'm telling the truth? That I'd never disgrace our house's founder?"

Rosier waved her hand sharply at a nearby student who hurriedly retrieved her fallen wand, handing it back to her with evident caution. Her expression was smug, almost triumphant. She was so confident that he would fail in his attempt to prove anything that she didn't even bother raising her wand again.

"There's nothing you could possibly say or do to back this claim," Rosier sneered. "And when everyone realises it, you'll regret it, Quade."

Jakob simply raised an unamused eyebrow, entirely unimpressed by her bravado. "Pansy, bring Saliza."

Pansy, who had kept her glare steadily on Rosier, broke it as she blinked at Jakob, clearly as confused as the rest of the room but for a whole other reason. She obediently lowered her wand and moved quickly towards the dorms.

Rosier watched her leave. "The Queen will hear of this betrayal, Quade," she hissed threateningly, returning her gaze to Jakob.

The youngest Slytherin five-member snorted before meeting her gaze, unmoved by the threat.

Moments later, murmurs of alarm spread rapidly through the crowd as Pansy returned, carrying the large black snake draped carefully over her shoulders. Saliza's ruby-red eyes glowed dangerously in the dim torchlight as she hissed threateningly, causing several students to instinctively take a step back, clearing a path toward Jakob, who smiled as he saw his familiar.

Rosier's eyes widened in fear, and her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "What the bloody hell is that?"

Ignoring her, Pansy calmly raised her arm, allowing the sleek serpent to slither gracefully onto Jakob's outstretched hand, quickly coiling around his wrist.

"You finally bring me out to the world, my little darkness? How I've missed you," Saliza hissed affectionately, brushing her head gently against Jakob's cheek.

Jakob smiled softly, replying in a low, tender hiss. "Slowly, my dear. First, my housemates and family. And I've missed you too, my favourite."

Saliza's gaze shifted sharply to Rosier, and the serpent bared her fangs menacingly, releasing a threatening hiss that made the girl recoil several steps in fright.

"She strongly suggests you lower your wand," Jakob said calmly, trailing a finger slowly along the smooth scales. "Saliza's venom is remarkably slow and ensures a rather painful death."

Rosier stared at her rival in pure shock, disbelief, and a sudden, uneasy fear. "You're…you're a Parselmouth?" she stammered, immediately lowering her wand and casting frantic glances at her classmates, seeking reassurance but receiving none.

"I am," Jakob confirmed evenly. "Now tell me again, Rosier, do you still believe I'd disrespect the founder of our house?"

She shook her head rapidly, retreating quietly and merging into the watching crowd. All eyes were glued mesmerisingly onto the black serpent resting calmly around Jakob's arm with equal parts fascination and dread etched clearly across their faces.

"You truly have a gift for capturing attention, Heir Quade," a familiar voice called out.

Jakob glanced up toward the back of the room, recognising the source immediately. Amy slowly stepped forward from the shadows, her bright gaze with clear interest as a faintly amused smile curved her lips.

"My Queen," Jakob acknowledged warmly, dipping his head respectfully, "it's been far too long."

Rosier spun sharply towards Amy, her lips parting as though ready to argue her point, but the older girl raised a commanding hand, silencing her instantly.

Rosier froze, the resentment flickering openly in her eyes as she shot a hasty glare towards Jakob, yet she stepped aside as Amy approached Jakob, and the serpent slithered around him, the crowd parting quietly to let her pass.

Amy halted beside the table, fixing Jakob with a meaningful look that clearly instructed him to make room. Without hesitation, he extended a steady hand, helping her step gracefully onto the low table beside him.

"Hello again, Saliza," Amy murmured in a familiar, warm tone as she extended her arm towards the serpent. "I've missed your charming company."

Saliza hissed gently in reply, immediately sliding from Jakob's grip onto Amy's outstretched hand. The snake wound herself comfortably around Amy's arm, her red eyes glinting sharply at the gathered students, daring them to challenge her mistress.

Amy turned her cool gaze to the silent students. "I'm not here to order you all to believe Jakob," she stated calmly, slowly moving her eyes across each face. "But if you consider everything he has done for our house, the truth becomes obvious, don't you agree? "

Visibly shaken by the statement, Rosier stared at her Queen in disbelief. "You knew about this?" she demanded bitterly. "You knew everything?"

"I am your queen," Amy responded sharply. "You will know your place."

Rosier's expression darkened further, and she turned angrily toward the assembled students, her voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "If all of you are foolish enough to trust this blood traitor—"

"If you call me blood traitor one more time, Rosier," Jakob interrupted coldly, wand instantly back in his hand, "I'll make sure everyone here sees the colour of yours."

"Attack her now, and she wins," Amy whispered quietly enough that only Jakob heard in a calm yet firm tone. He sighed deeply, reluctantly lowering his wand.

Rosier, who had seen that he wasn't taking the bait, turned and stormed towards the dormitories, a third of the gathered students following silently behind her. Just before they vanished through the archway, Amy spoke again.

"Oh, and as everyone here already knows," Amy called almost cheerfully, stopping Rosier and her followers in their tracks. She waited until all eyes returned to her. "The usual rules remain." Amy roamed her gaze around the crowd as she continued. Suppose anyone dares to speak of what happened tonight, including Jakob's little revelation. In that case, nothing will protect you from my wrath."

Rosier hesitated, clenching her jaw tightly, before disappearing angrily into the dorm corridor with her followers trailing behind her. Amy turned away, stroking Saliza's sleek scales. She stepped off the table, glancing casually back toward Jakob over her shoulder.

"I'm keeping her for tonight," Amy announced as it had been something obvious before moving smoothly toward her private chambers without even giving a backward glance. Jakob watched her departure with a conflicted frown. He had been relieved that she had openly supported him but also troubled by the distant coolness of her exit, not even giving him a glance or a goodbye smile.

Gradually, conversations resumed around the common room, and a moment after that, the party continued, though the mood was noticeably more subdued. Jakob returned to his friends, sinking heavily into the empty seat beside Draco, who immediately rounded on him with anxious frustration.

"You can't just drop something like that on us," he snapped, not even caring to hide his worry. "What if our families hear about this?"

"They will," Jakob replied with an indifferent shrug. "By tomorrow morning, it'll be all over the newspapers."

"Aren't you even slightly concerned?" Daphne probed cautiously. "You know how they'll react."

Jakob steadily met her eyes with an unreadable expression. "The wizarding world needs to wake up."

They switched to another topic for a while, but eventually, Draco, Theo, and Tracey excused themselves for the evening, leaving Jakob sitting alongside Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, who had fallen into quiet discussion.

"That reminds me, I'll be right back," Pansy suddenly announced, standing abruptly and heading toward the third-year dorms.

Jakob raised an amused eyebrow. "How can a conversation between Crabbe and Goyle possibly remind you of anything?" he called after her, chuckling softly as he leaned back, reflecting quietly on the inevitable chaos that tomorrow's headlines would probably cause.

When Pansy still hadn't returned after several minutes, Jakob began to feel uneasy. Frowning slightly, he stood up and made his way toward the dormitories, checking first the third-years' room, only to find it empty.

"Pansy?" he called softly, his voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor. Slowly, he moved toward his own dorm—door number thirteen and pushed it open. "Pansy, are you—?"

He froze in the doorway, his question trailing off as he took in the unexpected sight before him. Pansy sat silently on their bed. She was pale, her eyes wide and filled with tears streaming silently down her cheeks.

Jakob rushed forward, dropping instantly to his knees in front of her as panic surged through him like a wave. "Pansy, what happened? Did someone hurt you—are you cursed?"

Pansy weakly shook her head, a single choked sob escaping before she forced herself to speak. "It's Draco, I went to collect a potion book I lent him. He didn't answer, so I unlocked the door and—and he…he…"

Jakob's eyes widened in shock, his adrenaline already spurring him to his feet before she could finish. With a pounding heart, he sprinted out and towards Draco's room, mind racing and preparing for all the different thoughts of danger his best friend could be in. He cursed himself for not anticipating an attack on his friends after his provocative speech.

Throwing Draco's door open, Jakob stopped abruptly on the threshold, completely stunned by what he found inside. In the middle of the room were Draco and Theo, clad only in their boxers, arms tightly wrapped around one another in a passionate embrace. Draco was kissing Theo deeply, neither aware of Jakob's presence until the sudden intrusion shattered the intimate moment.

"Jakob, what the hell?" Draco demanded sharply, pulling back in shock as his eyes registered his best friend's expression. Theo turned, his face paling rapidly as he spotted Jakob frozen in the doorway, staring open-mouthed in disbelief.

"Um…" Jakob stammered awkwardly, flushing deeply in embarrassment, unable to tear his eyes from his two stunned friends. "I'm…sorry?"

Author's Note 2:

Next chapter will be uploaded on Sunday as usual!

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