Ellis had a fondness for staying up late. She felt at ease under the cover of darkness, so she was not scared when trekking across the school grounds toward the Forbidden Forest. The full moon bathed everything in silver light. She took a potion to sharpen her vision, ensuring she could easily navigate the gnarled woods. She had a vial of anti-venom in case she suffered an acromantula bite, a few firecrackers from Zonko's to distract any creatures roaming about, and doused herself in a potent concoction of citrus perfume after Professor Kettleburn told her that acromantulas were thrown off by the scent.
Her wand and mind were her best weapons, so she had no reason to worry about her little adventure. If anything, Ellis felt a thrill of excitement. Helena believed she was with Ned, and Ned—the sort to do as she asked without question—readily agreed to serve as her alibi should any trouble arise.
A Notice-Me-Not Charm cloaked her presence, yet a prickling sensation crawled up her spine as she passed the Whomping Willow. She wasn't alone. It wasn't until she reached Hagrid's cabin that she saw what had been trailing her.
A dog.
It was not Fang. This one was large and shaggy, its coat black as pitch, its great white teeth bared in warning. It barked—loudly.
Ellis hissed for it to quiet down, but the dog only barked again, each sound louder, angrier. It growled at her, teeth flashing in the moonlight. The Selwyn estate had hell-hounds, red-eyed, horned little devils twice as big as this dog and ten times as vicious. Ellis was unimpressed by its posturing. With a flick of her wand, she sent a crackling spark through the air. The dog yelped, shrinking back.
Satisfied, she continued toward the forest, but the grim-looking mutt followed her, nipping at her heels and biting at her cloak and pants.
"Shoo," she snapped, trying to refrain from kicking at it. "Go away!"
Ellis' teeth clamped down, frustration mounting as the dog continued to snap at her. She sidestepped to the left; it lunged to block her. She pivoted to the right, it darted in front of her again, baring its teeth. Ellis had no patience for it.
"I saidgo away!"
The dog growled again, more insistent this time. Its eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time, a flicker of unease wormed into her chest. This dog was actingtoosmart. Almost like it knew exactly what she intended to do.
Without warning, it lunged at her, jaw aiming for her wand arm. She stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding its teeth, and raised a Shield Charm. The dog skidded away but was undeterred, letting out a bark that sounded eerily like a shout of frustration.
spell shot from her wand, arcing toward the dog. It wasn't meant to hurt, only disorient so the beast would turn tail and leave her alone. But the dog was faster than she anticipated.
It sprang aside with a startling burst of agility, the Confundus Charm zipping past it harmlessly before fizzling out against the trunk of a nearby tree. Ellis barely had time to process the fact that she missed before the dog whirled back to face her, lips curled.
Then, it howled.
The sound split the air cutting through the silence of the grounds and sending a sharp jolt of alarm down Ellis's spine.
Lights flared to life in Hagrid's hut.
"Oh, bloody hell," Ellis cursed, turning on her heel to run. But it was too late.
The door to the hut slammed open, and a massive, looming figure filled the doorway. Hagrid, dressed in a patched nightgown, clutching a lantern, squinted into the night. Fang was already bounding forward, barking in answer to the other dog's call. Ellis barely had a moment to consider her options before Hagrid stepped further into the moonlight, his massive form casting a long shadow over the grass. His sharp eyes immediately caught the swish of her cloak.
"Who's there?" he bellowed.
She turned and sprinted for the tree line.
The dog shot after her as if anticipating her move, letting out full-throated barks. Ellis didn't look back. She was fast, nimble—instincts honed from dodging curses and hexes in duels. But the dog was just as fast. It kept pace with her, its powerful strides matching hers as they plunged into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.
Ellis wound her way through the trees. The floor was thick with rotting leaves, mushrooms, and creeping roots. The only constant was the awareness that the dog followed, silent and watchful. Occasionally, she heard it pant or snap a twig, but it made no move to attack again.
The air smelled of damp moss and was full of an old kind of magic that settled over her skin and warmed her like a freshly laundered blanket. Every so often, Ellis heard the rustle of some nocturnal creature flitting through the trees.
Ellis lifted her wand, casting a soft, bluish glow into the darkness. "Vreite Araena," she whispered. It was a Seeking Charm that Professor Flitwick taught her, tuned for "acromantula," with a bit of trial-and-error. She hoped the hybrid incantation would work. The light curled through the air before stretching in a thin string. It drifted through the trees, guiding her deeper into the forest. She smiled in satisfaction.
But the dog was still there.
It approached her side, cutting her off. She scowled at it.
"Move," she ordered, brandishing her wand. The string flitted ahead, beckoning her on, and she skirted around the dog, refusing to be delayed any longer. Her footsteps grew quicker trying to take her further from the damned beast.
The dog growled in protest, but Ellis ignored it.
She continued following the string through a denser patch of forest. Thick brambles tugged at her cloak, and she had to push aside branches heavy with moss. Once or twice, she stumbled over a hidden root, cursing under her breath. She heard the soft pad of paws behind her, shadowing her steps.
Without warning, the black dog lunged, clamping its teeth around the hem of her cloak. Ellis yelped in surprise. She jolted away, trying to pull free. The dog's eyes blazed as if pleading with her to stop.
Anger flared in her chest. "What iswrongwith you?"
She raised her wand again, but a resounding roar thundered through the forest at the same moment. Both Ellis and the dog froze, heads snapping up in alarm. The ground trembled underfoot. A deep and guttural roar echoed again, and it sounded dangerously close.
The trees shuddered. A massive shadow shifted.
Ellis's blood ran cold.
A forest troll.
She had seen illustrations in her DADA textbooks, but nothing could have prepared her for seeing it in person. It wasn't as tall as the giants of Fenn, but it was twice as ugly and three times broader. It loomed over her and the dog easily, its thick, warty skin glistening under a slick film of what looked like mucus. Professor Slughorn would have loved a sample.
As insane as it was, Ellis suddenly remembered Regulus telling her that a gift would earn her Slughorn's forgiveness for the missed lesson. Well—here was one staring her dead in the face.
The troll clutched a massive club in one oversized hand, dragging it lazily across the forest floor as it adjusted from being woken from its slumber. Its small, piggish eyes landed on the pair of them, and it let out another roar, spittle flying. The stench was nearly overwhelming, a mixture of sweat, dirt, and rotting vegetation.
In seconds, the dog took a protective stance before Ellis to defend her from the looming threat. Her small, shriveled heart grew a size larger. She leaned down, patting a hand to its head, scratching between its ears. "Aren't you a good dog?" she cooed, "No collar? Do you want to come live with me?"
The troll gave a deafening bellow and stomped forward, swinging its club in a wide arc. Ellis had to dive sideways to avoid being flattened, and the dog sprang away in the opposite direction, snarling. The club smashed into a thick tree trunk, splintering it and sending shards of wood flying like knives.
Trolls had thick skin; even advanced wizards often needed multiple stunners to bring one down.
She pointed her wand at the troll's eyes: "Confringo!" A bright bolt of fiery orange light slammed into the troll's face, exploding in sparks and heat. The troll howled in pain and swatted at the spot, staggering back. Smoke curled from its singed hide, but it was still very much active, and now angrier.
The dog darted forward, barking sharply, drawing the troll's attention away from Ellis. The troll swung its club downward, smashing into the ground so hard that leaves and dirt erupted in a cloud. Somehow, the dog evaded the blow, weaving nimbly between the troll's legs. Trying to capitalize on the distraction, Ellis aimed her wand again, focusing all her magic into her next spell.
"Flipendo Maxima!"
The jinx slammed into the troll's chest with a thunderousBANG, flinging the massive creature backward as if it weighed little more than a ragdoll. It barreled into the dark pines, snapping branches and sending startled birds flapping frantically into the night sky. For a moment, the only sounds were the troll's wheezing grunts and the crackle of broken wood.
Ebublio. A bubble of rippling water materialized around the troll. Its arms and legs pressed awkwardly against the elastic barrier, thick fists pounding and scraping in a desperate attempt to shatter its confines. Murky water sloshed inside the bubble, muffling the troll's furious roars. But, the bubble held. As the troll thrashed, its movements began to slow.
Reaching the captured troll, she placed one hand on the slippery surface of the bubble. The troll's blunt fingers slammed into the membrane, causing a tremor that nearly sent her tumbling. Ellis hoisted herself up and climbed until she was standing over the troll.
She peered down into the creature's face, then aimed her wand at its .
The effect was immediate and unnerving. The troll's frantic thrashing ceased. Its eyes glazed over, turning a milky, lifeless white. It slumped within the watery prison, all aggression gone, like a puppet with its strings cut.
Ellis waved her wand again.
The bubble dissolved in a rush of water, splashing across the ground. Ellis lost her footing without the bubble's support and tumbled onto the troll's broad, gray-green belly with a smell hit her first—a combination of old sweat, bog water, and rotting algae. She gagged, pressing a hand to her nose.
"I'll need a week of baths after this," she groaned, her voice muffled against her arm.
The troll lay docile. Ellis pushed herself off its slimy belly. She rummaged through her bag and found the small glass vial, popped it open, then cast a quick expansion charm—the Ministry would catch her for that one day and give her a very hefty fine.
Thick, viscous slime lifted in the air. Holding the vial close, the slime oozed into the container in long, stringy ribbons. She couldn't help the curl of disgust that twisted her lips. Professor Slughorn ought to give her an Order of Merlin for this.
She sealed the vial and stowed it away.
Troll whiskers were a rare potion ingredient too, so she plucked a cluster of them from underneath its jaw. She brushed wet leaves and dirt from her robes, a lost cause if ever there was one. Her clothes stuck to her skin, reeking. She was cold, filthy, and starting to feel the bruises from her fall.
Done, she stepped back and surveyed the limp creature. It stared through her, chest rising and falling with heavy, wet breaths.
The dog trotted back to her side, letting out a sharp, clipped bark. Ellis turned to her Seeking Charm. It bobbed impatiently between the trees, waiting for her to resume the search. With one last glance at the troll, she lifted her wand and released it from the Imperius Curse. It did not move again—perhaps sensing that greater danger lay with her.
Ellis pressed on, venturing deeper into the forest, where the darkness thickened so completely that even her potion seemed useless. The canopy above was a weave of branches, swallowing the sky. Ellis walked with her hands outstretched, feeling more than seeing the way forward. The only sounds were the dog's steady movements, her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, the shallow rasp of her breath—and the faint, persistent glow of her Seeking Charm leading the way.
They followed it for what felt like hours. Then, suddenly, the ground shifted beneath her feet. The dog lunged, sinking its teeth into her elbow desperately trying to keep her from falling. Pain shot through her arm as it clamped down, but it wasn't enough. Gravity won.
A cry tore from her throat as she pitched forward. She flailed, reaching for a root, a branch—anything to stop her fall—but there was nothing to grab. She tumbled head over heels, the world spinning wildly around her. Her wand nearly flew from her grip, and she clutched it desperately to her chest.
She fell. Down, down, deeper into the dark. Rocks and roots slammed into her ribs, jarring her with each collision. Then she hit a slick patch of moss, her body hurtling faster, unstoppable…until, with a bone-jarring finish, she landed.
Pain exploded through her shoulder and hip. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
Ellis lay there, gasping, the world a dizzy blur. Overhead, her Seeking Charm flickered and burst into a shower of sparks. The light vanished.
Her arm hurt. Badly. It had twisted at the wrong angle. She could see the pink bits of flesh where the dog's teeth had torn and the oozy, drip of blood. She muttered a quick,Episkey, under her breath, but the wound went deep. The bleeding stopped, turning into a half-healed, congealed mess that somehow looked and felt worse.
Her wand was a dueler's wand, and Ellis only knew how to hurt with it.
She didn't see the grungy mutt anywhere. Her head might have had a cut or two as well, because when she touched her fingers to the tender spot by her ear, they came back wet. That wound was too close to her brain for Ellis to risk trying to heal it on her own.
Slowly, Ellis looked around. The place she had landed was a hollow in the forest floor, ringed by thick tree roots that formed natural walls.
And then she saw one.
The acromantula was undoubtedly one of the ugliest, most horrendous things she'd seen. She wanted a dozen of them in the forests of Fenn. An isle of witches and wizards without giant spiders was an utter disgrace. Even the Mirkwood of muggle-stories had the Children of Ungoliant. Maybe they should rename the Wandwood something scarier to match. Dreadwood? Deadwood? Mirkwood was a good name, but stealing from a muggle was uncouth.
"I seek Aragog, friend of Hagrid," announced Ellis, all prim and proper. "I am Ellis Selwyn—"
A clicking noise cut her off. Another spider wandered into view, smaller than the first, but just as frightening. Ellis glimpsed the sharp pincers warily. Her hand tightened around her wand, eyes narrowed at the bundles of silk stretching across the a fine dress it'd make, thought Ellis. A quick severing charm and she could have it wrapped up and stowed away in her bag for later.
More spiders appeared in the grove and when Ellis looked up, she saw that the silk threads stretched up the giant trees. There were tightly wrapped bundles, some twitching, between the silvery threads—food.
Giant spiders, black and brown and grey, with eyes the size of Ellis' torso and legs three times as long as she was and oh, they were hairy. So very hairy. She hated every bit of it. Loved it too. Magic was strange and ugly and wonderful. They clicked their pincers rapidly, talking to one another, and Ellis started to feel a pinprick of danger.
"Aragog!" the first spider called. "Aragog!"
Was J.R.R. Tolkien a wizard? Perhaps, a Squib? She half expected the riders of Nazgul to peek out of the trees. Maybe, a handsome elf prince? She'd lost some blood and was starting to feel woozy.
A massive spider broke through the throes. Aragog. He was grey like an elephant and equally big. Each of his eyes was covered with a milky white film. Blind, realized Ellis.
"What is this?"
"It looks like a man but smells weird. Small too."
"Can we eat it?"
"You most certainly cannot," answered Ellis, "I'm poisonous to spiders."
This intrigued Aragog. "Poisonous? What manner of man are you?"
"A witch. I'm a witch, not a man," said Ellis, smoothly. "There's a blood curse on my family that makes me mean and bitter and terrible to eat. If you ate me, you'd grow sick and die."
"And how did a witch come to this hollow?"
"Mr. Hagrid told me about you. He said that you were his friend and that you were improperly blamed for an incident involving the death of a young witch…Myrtle Warren."
"Hagrid bore the punishment," Aragog retorted. "Yet he cared for me—hid me in the forest, protected me. He still visits, and even found me a wife, Mosag. You see how our family has grown, all because of Hagrid's kindness…"
"Yes, I do see that and a lot more. I can help, I think. My father is a very important man, and he would set the truth right and perhaps, ease some of the burden that Mr. Hagrid has held all this time. He'll set a punishment for the one who truly killed Myrtle…assuming that it was not you."
"It was not," croaked the old spider. "Though my instinct urged me to eat, my respect for Hagrid outweighed the hunger. I never harmed a human. The girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom."
"Yes, on the second floor. A leaky, cold bathroom. I've never seen a spider there."
"Our kind like the dark and the quiet…"
"Much like witches then," said Ellis, with a smile he could not see. "I won't lie to you, Aragog, and say I came here for pleasantries. The man who killed Myrtle killed far more and it will take a great amount of magic to stop him. He isn't kind like Mr. Hagrid is. I should leave it alone, but my father has always said that a single truth is greater than a thousand lies. So…I am going to open the Chamber of Secrets—"
Her words were swallowed by a sudden, furious outbreak of clicking—sharp, chittering sounds that echoed through the black darkness of the hollow. The rustling of countless legs followed, a dry, scratching discord as the massive spiders stirred.
"—and clear Mr. Hagrid's name. I'm not doing it because it's right, but because I can. And if I can, it proves there's nothing extraordinary about Tom Marvolo Riddle. And if there's nothing extraordinary about him, then he's just a man. And men die every day."
The ground trembled beneath her feet as hairy limbs scraped against stone, pincers clacking in agitation.
"The creature that dwells within the castle," said Aragog, fierce with anger, "is one we fear above all else. I remember well how I begged Hagrid to release me when I sensed it stirring within the school. We do not speak of it. We do not name it. Fool, you are to think you can control it!"
"I don't wish to control it. I would release it as Mr. Hagrid did with you, but that is also dangerous. I don't know what spells bind the beast to Slytherin's line. I came only to confirm that it is what I believe it to be."
Gleaming eyes blinked open in the shadows, glistening like cold droplets of ink, narrowing as they fixed upon her. The thick scent of damp earth and decay grew heavier in the air, mingling with the faint, acrid stench of venom.
"You see…when Salazar Slytherin was deciding what mascot to set for House Slytherin, he was taken with a creature of tremendous power, but the other founders thought that it was too frightening for the students. He settled for an ordinary serpent…"
Ellis had read that inHogwarts, A Historyand only remembered it when reviewing the book during one of Michael's tutoring sessions.
"A creature that could kill with only a glance…and what greater enemy would there be for spiders, who have so many ways to see?"
A low, collective hiss rippled through the swarm as the spiders crept forward, their enormous bodies weaving between the webs swaying with their movement. The whisper of silk strands stretched, the creak of thick legs flexing, the slow but inevitable tightening of the circle around her—it was not yet an attack. But, it would be.
"Aragog…is there abasiliskin the Chamber of Secrets?"
Tom Marvolo Riddle had opened the Chamber of Secrets and released the basilisk that killed Myrtle. He framed Hagrid for the act, gaining a trophy in 'Special Services to the School' that still sat in Hogwarts's trophy room. The Gaunts spent their fortune ensuring that the Chamber's entrance remained a secret, leading to their decay and demise.
She did not know what sort of childhood Tom had, but she imagined it was hard. A half-blood with no money in Slytherin. Except, he was aSlytherinand had proven that to all the power-hungry, cowardly boys who had sneered at his sorting. And then those boys grew up to join the Ministry, to use their wealth and power to blackmail, extort, manipulate, and even kill any who opposed Lord Voldemort. Their violence had been passed down to her generation.
Aragog did not answer her with words. Instead, a sharp, definitive click echoed through the hollow.
It was mirrored with a deafening eruption of clicks and hisses, the spiders surged forward, the ground trembling beneath their weight. Legs as thick as branches struck against the earth, propelling them with terrifying speed. Shadows shifted violently, monstrous forms emerging fully into the dim light, their many eyes gleaming with hunger and fury.
The first lunged, fangs glistening with venom as it snapped toward her. She barely twisted out of the way in time, feeling the rush of air as its jagged pincers struck where she had stood only a moment ago. Another reared up, its front legs slicing through the air, aiming to pin her down. She stumbled back, breath coming fast, the oppressive scent of rot and silk filling her lungs.
Webbing shot from the darkness, sticky and thick, barely missing her shoulder as she ducked. They were trying totrapher.
Ellis raised her wand. A sharp flick of her wrist sent flames roaring to !The fire crackled, illuminating the swarm in an eerie glow. The nearest spiders recoiled, their clicking turning to shrill screeches, legs scrambling backward to avoid the burning heat. But more were coming, undeterred, moving in from all sides.
She could feel them behind her, closing in. She spun, sending another jet of fire into the darkness, but it was not enough. There weretoo many. Their sheer size, unrelenting numbers, the weight of their bodies pressing in—suffocating.
A shadow loomed above her. One of the largest acromantulas lunged, its fangs bared, venom dripping to the ground with an audible hiss. This time, there was no space left to run.
Ellis could only fall back, crawling away as it approached…until the world erupted in a violent explosion of sound and light.
BANG! CRACK! BOOM!
Sparks of green, silver, and gold shot in every direction, the flickering brilliance cutting through the web-draped darkness. The air filled with thick smoke, sour and stinging, and the piercing, panicked cries of the spiders rang out as they recoiled in confusion. The spider that had attacked twitched violently on the ground before it stilled after a few .
Ellis barely registered what had happened until she saw firecrackers' crumpled, half-burst remains littering the bag,she must have fallen out.
She didn't waste another second. She shrank the lifeless spider, and with a sharp flick of her wand, it zipped into her bag, vanishing inside.
Clambering to her feet, Ellis ran.
She didn't look back, didn't think, didn't cry—justran.
The forest blurred around her, twisted shadows flying past as she crashed through. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, but still she ran. The spiders' screeches faded behind her, the echoes growing distant, but she didn't dare slow down.
The darkness of the Forbidden Forest swallowed her, deep and endless, until she didn't know how far she had gone or how long she had been running. Her limbs grew heavy, exhaustion gnawing at her bones, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. She pushed herself further, but her body betrayed her, leaving her in a heap on the ground.
Her vision swam. She could feel the pounding of her heartbeat in her skull, the weight of fatigue pressing down, pulling her toward unconsciousness. The night stretched on, cold and unfeeling, and for a moment, she thought she might truly pass out there.
But then—
A soft, silvery glow illuminated the shadows around her.
It was faint at first, a mere glimmer at the edge of her vision. Then it grew stronger, spreading through the trees like liquid moonlight, casting gentle, rippling beams over the forest floor. The exhaustion clawing at her wavered.
With her little strength, Ellis turned her body to watch it. A smile lit her face. Ellis loved unicorns more than anything.
Its coat gleamed with an ethereal shimmer, woven from stardust, its mane flowing like silk. Deep, dark eyes met hers—calm, knowing, kind. The unicorn did not move closer, nor did it flee. It merely watched her. The weight in her chest loosened. The panic still thrumming in her veins slowly ebbed away. Ellis had never seen anything solovely.
She raised her hand, feeling even the pain in her elbow ebb away, and pressed her cold fingers into the warm light it cast. Tears sprung to her , aren't you beautiful? What are you doing in this world of monsters?
Her body had no strength left, her limbs heavy as stone.
Instead, she let her eyes flutter shut, her breath slowing.
Stay,she stay.
And, as sleep finally claimed her, she knew it would.
Regulus Black was having a strange dream, one of many over the last few weeks. At times, it felt like they were not his own.
This dream was not like the others. He wished it was, but no heat or warmth was found here. A dark forest. A girl running, running, running. Her tattered cloak rippled behind her. Not once did she look back, but she did not need to. Regulus recognized her from the slope of her shoulders. The shade of her hair in the moonlight. The rhythm of her breathing. The laces on her boots circled her ankles twice, always longer than they needed to be, but Ellis, for it could only be Ellis, liked them that way. Neater bows, she claimed.
He shifted in his sleep, disturbed, because she seemed to be in pain. Whatever was watching her was twice as fast, keeping an easy gait.
And then Ellis fell. On her belly first, face pressed into mossy grass. She turned over and seemed to catch sight of him. He wanted to go to her, but this was not his body. Not him. He would not have let her fall.
Her hand rose, limp, catching beams of , she seemed to stay
Regulus shot out of bed, sweat slicking his skin. The low glow of a lamp shone from the side of his bed, casting shadows over Evan's troubled face. Evan had curled about his pillow, blanket thrown onto the ground. Regulus moved to reach for it, pulled it over him as gently as he could because Evan was a light sleeper, and the slightest noise would wake him.
Regulus rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He wandered to the bathroom to wash his face because he would not return to bed that night. Was this his dream? Ellis'? Something else entirely? These days, he was less and less certain. Though he knew he should fear the way her magic had slipped inside him, body and soul, Regulus did not care. He should. Whatever they were doing to one another could not be undone.
Magical compatibility, Odette Selwyn had written back,is more politics than magic. A long time ago, wizarding families bastardized ancient marriage and binding rituals into this concept. It was a means of controlling lineage for purebloods, specifically trying to ensure that their offspring came from strong lines of magic, but often, it led to abuse, control, and utter destruction. However, in some cases, extraordinary feats of magic could occur where love prevailed.
Odette added at the end:
I am very surprised to receive a letter from you, Regulus Black. I will arrange for us to meet over the break as there is much I wish to say to you.
Regulus still hadn't responded, finding every draft he wrote inadequate.
He leaned over the sink, clutching it tightly and stared down at his arm where the Dark Mark withered against his skin. It felt as if the flesh were rotting. And the more he learned of sensing magic, the more disturbed he grew by it. How different it felt from his own, from Ellis' magic. Corrupt. Wrong. Like death.
He glanced into the mirror, not recognizing who was staring back at him. He exited the bathroom quickly and spotted his wand on the bed, peeking out from beneath his pillow. The silvery thread among the dark wood shone brightly. He had never seen it do that before. The light grew when he reached for it, escaping from the tip to float. It hurried toward the door.
His gut twisted and pulled with warning. He hastily put his shoes on, grabbed a cloak, and followed it. The dread inside grew as he stepped onto the ground and saw that the moon was full and round.
He knew Lupin would be at the Shrieking Shack with his idiotic friends. Fitting that they were all animals since they acted like ones. But, there was still danger in Lupin escaping, running wild in the Forbidden Forest—oh, Merlin.
No. No, there was—
Forgetting all sense, Regulus began to run, chasing after the light.
Because he knew that the dream was not a dream.
When he was deep within the forest, a low growl sounded through the trees, stopping him in his tracks. He whipped his wand forward, his fingers tight around the hilt, as his eyes darted around looking for the source of the noise. Then, from between the twisted trunks, a large black dog stepped forward, its eyes gleaming unnervingly in the moonlight.
Then, just as swiftly as the beast had appeared, its form wavered, bones shifting, fur receding. Within seconds, the hulking dog was gone, and in its place stood Sirius Black, chest heaving, wild-eyed.
"Reg," Sirius said, stepping closer. "What the hell are you doing out here?" Regulus barely had time to process his brother's presence before Sirius closed the space between them and grabbed his arm. His grip was firm, urgent. "Did you come alone? There's a full moon."
"Oh, I'm well aware of that." Regulus wrenched his arm free, sneering. "Figures you'd be just as useless as a dog as you are a human. Now, get out of my wa—"
"You shouldn't be out of you."
"Let me make myself clear, Sirius—if Lupin so much as breathes in my or Ellis' direction with those filthy fangs of his, I'll personally see to it that your little band of misfits get a first-class tour of Azkaban."
Regulus barely spared Sirius a glance as he pushed past him, his wand alight, the silver thread still darting ahead like an impatient guide. The urgency in his chest only grew, pressing against his ribs like a vice.
Sirius cursed under his breath and fell into step beside him. "Reg—"
"Shut up."His voice was sharp, unyielding.
"Listen to me!" snapped Sirius. "Moony didn't bite her, I swear it. The second I saw her, I tried to stop her from coming in here, but the bird's bloody stubborn. I don't know what she was looking for, but she wasn't leaving without finding it. Fell down a ravine and I bit her to try and pull her back, so don't freak out—"
"You bit her?" Regulus repeated, voice dripping with derision. "How very heroic of you, Sirius. I'm sure she'll be eternally grateful." An unimpressed scowl stretched across his face. "Tell me, in that great, throbbing mess you call a brain, did it ever occur to you that you could have, I don't know, turned back? Or was that just too simple for the great and reckless Sirius Black?"
"She hates me. It's a year in Azkaban for becoming an illegal Animagus and there's no way in hell she wouldn't tell her father."
Regulus gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, right, I forgot—it's all about you, isn't it? Your freedom, your suffering, your tragic existence. A year in Azkaban? What's that compared to someone's life?" He sneered. "Aren't you meant to be the noble one? Self-sacrificing, honorable, all that Gryffindor nonsense? Or is that just for show?"
Sirius had nothing to say to that.
Regulus scoffed, turned on his heel, and strode forward. "Do us both a favor and stay out of my way."
For once, Sirius didn't argue. He simply jogged to match Regulus' pace, the two cutting through the thick underbrush, ducking low-hanging branches, their boots crunching against dead leaves. The forest was alive with unseen things—creatures skittering in the shadows, the distant rustle of wings, the slow creak of old trees swaying in the night breeze.
The silver thread vanished. Regulus barely had time to register its absence before Sirius seized his arm again, yanking him to a halt as they stumbled into a clearing. His pulse roared in his ears as he took a slow step forward, unable to tear his gaze from the creature standing protectively over Ellis' limp body.A unicorn.
"Bloody hell,"Sirius breathed, eyes wide.
Regulus hardly heard him.
Its coat shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Moonlight spun solid, shifting and rippling like silver with every movement. The air around it felt different. Lighter. Calmer. Magic untouched by corruption, unburdened by war.
Its deep, dark eyes regarded him with calm intelligence, vast and knowing. Unicorns could sense the magic within a person and knew what lay beneath the surface. They did not abide liars. They did not suffer the corrupt. They did not trust lightly.
So, why was this one so unafraid?
Why didn't it flee from the Dark Mark hidden beneath his sleeve?
It already knows knew in an instant, the way one recognized an old friend after years of not seeing them, that his wand core had come from the unicorn before him. All the shame and anger he felt as a child for having such a weak wand washed away in an instant. An old hurt eased inside him.
He thought it fitting that both Sirius and Bella had wands made from the dead ethers of a dragon. He would take life over death. He would take this light, pure and kind, over fire. Peace, even in darkness.
"You can leave," said Regulus, at last. "Unicorns can outrun werewolves, and they won't usually approach them to begin with."
Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll wait."
For a boy who spent the summers wishing he was at Hogwarts—so his precious Moony wouldn't be alone during the full moon, so he and James Potter could run wild as they pleased, so he could be as free of their parents and him—it was a first to have Sirius choose to stay where he would serve no purpose. And to willingly stay withhim.
Regulus might have been moved had he not known that it came from a place of guilt. He chose to ignore Sirius and faced the unicorn who watched him closely.
An awkward clearing of the throat. "Thank you," murmured Regulus.
The unicorn seemed to understand the sentiment and lowered its head in a bow, horn pointing to the ground. Regulus mimicked the gesture, not knowing what else to do. It let him pass and did not run off.
He kneeled by Ellis' side, his heart hammering in his chest. Had he cursed her somehow? She'd been hurt so many times now and each instance felt worse than the last, as if a part of him was wounded with her.
He ran a diagnostic charm first—bruises and scrapes mostly, but her elbow tendon was torn. There was a gash on her head, and Sirius' maiming was the only other large wound. He could tell she had tried to heal the bite on her own, sloppily. He recalled how she'd panicked when Ned had gotten hurt and vowed to teach her more than the rudimentary healing spells she knew. Duelist or not, it made little sense in this world to not know how to heal yourself.
"Vulnera Sanentur," murmured Regulus, repeating the incantation until it began to sound like a song. The wound on her head closed neatly, clearing blood as the skin knit together. He ran his fingers lightly over her temple, checking for any lingering damage, feeling the way the magic took effect beneath his hands. Her breath steadied, her expression relaxing.
He worked carefully, methodically. He revived Ellis once he was sure she would awaken with minimal pain. "Rennervate."
Ellis did not rise gently.
She jerked awake, wand already in hand, the tip pressing into the hollow of his throat before she even registered where she was. Her grip was iron, her breath shallow and quick, pupils blown wide in panic. Regulus remained perfectly still.
Recognition flooded her face, and her hand shook before she lowered her wand. Without hesitation, she reached for him, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate, trembling embrace. He thought to ask her a thousand questions, to demand to know what had happened and why she had ventured so far into danger alone, but they all dissolved at the knowledge that she had been—still was—afraid.
Whatever lines they've drawn around themselves were all but gone.
"Tell me next time," he said, pulling back to cup her face. "Tell me and I'll come with you."Anywhere.
She nodded, hand rising to rest against his, "But, how did you know where to find me?"
He showed her his wand, knowing she would understand. She leaned closer, seeing the threads of light weaving around the wand's body, her fingers trailing to follow along. He felt it as if she were touching him.
"Magical resonance," said Ellis, fear fading in place of curiosity. It made Ellis frightening at times because his fear caused him to freeze and bend, and hers seemed to give her strength. "Your core came from…" She looked to the unicorn, awed. "It must've called for you."
Now that Ellis was awake, the unicorn stepped forward, glided rather than walked. It did not hesitate or startle, moving with the confidence of a creature that belonged to deeper magic than wizards knew. Its eyes swept over Ellis. Then, as if satisfied that she was whole, it turned its gaze back to Regulus.
The unicorn exhaled a soft, laughing snort, a sound so light and unburdened that it cut through the weight in Regulus' chest, pulling the exhaustion from his bones as if it had never been there.
It moved even closer. Regulus found himself frozen, caught between awe and uncertainty. Then, slowly, it lowered its spiraled horn. The tip of its horn grazed Regulus' left hand before drawing upwards, tracing the path of his forearm.
Straight toward the place where the Dark Mark lay hidden.
Regulus stiffened. His breath hitched as instinct took over, his body recoiling, heart hammering in warning. "Stop," he said, voice tight, uncertain, afraid. "Don't—"
But the unicorn did not heed his protest.
The horn glided forward, sharper than it appeared, slicing through the fabric of his sleeve. A thin line of red bloomed along his pale skin as it continued its ascent, carving through the Dark Mark itself.
Regulus braced for pain. For searing, unbearable agony. The brand scorched into his flesh taught him to expect it.
But pain never came.
Instead, something else entirely unfurled within him—a sensation so foreign and impossible that the air pulled from his lungs. The decay, the ever-present sickness, the feeling of something foul lurking beneath his skin—eased. Faded. Became distant.
The tattoo remained. The ink did not lift, did not vanish. He could still feel the Dark Mark's presence, still sense the pulse of dark magic lying dormant beneath it. But it no longer seethed like an open wound.
For the first time since he had taken the Dark Mark, Regulus felt that his arm was his again. That he was himself. Belonged to free.
But almost was not enough.
His fingers curled instinctively, as if testing whether the Dark Mark would punish him for it. There was no torture lashing at his nerves.
The unicorn lingered longer, searching his face for something only it could see. Then, with a soft huff, it stepped back. It was leaving. He did not want it to leave.
But the unicorn turned before he could even think to reach out, to try and stop it.
It strode back toward the forest's darkness, its steps soundless against the mossy earth. As it moved, strands of its silvery mane drifted from its body like falling stars. Regulus swallowed, watching it go. He had the strangest, most foolish urge to call it back.
When it was gone, the darkness returned to the clearing.
"It's alright to cry, Regulus," murmured Ellis, pulling her knees up. She lay her head against them, peering at him, mouth curving into a small, knowing smile. Her hand reached for his. "No one's ever told you that, but I promise it is."
So, he did.
Cry, that was. Sirius trotted over, having turned back into a dog, pressing his head into Regulus' lap with a soft whine. And though they had hurled a thousand cruel words at each other over the years, Regulus couldn't help but sink his fingers into the warmth of his brother's fur. He was a better dog than a brother—that thought made him laugh between the tears, because it seemed the only way they could get along was when one of them couldn't speak.
After a while, he wiped his sleeve across his damp face, composing himself quietly. It was instinct to stitch himself back together before anyone could see too much.
Sirius grumbled low in his throat, shifting restlessly before giving Regulus' knee an impatient nudge.
"Alright, alright," Regulus muttered, pulling his hand from Sirius' fur. He sighed, dragging his fingers through his disheveled hair before glancing at Ellis. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing out here?"
"Oh….you know…." Ellis made a vague gesture, rolling her wrist. Her bracelets jingled.
"I don't actually."
Regulus stood first, offering her his hand. She took it without hesitation, and he pulled her to her feet. They collected the fallen strands of unicorn hair together. Seven in total. Ellis tried to make him take them, but she would gain more from them than he would. Regulus was not so sentimental as to need a reminder of the night. Memory was enough.
It was winter and he was craven enough to claim that he was cold, simply to enjoy having her near. He drew his arm over her shoulders, tucking her into his side as Sirius led the way out of the forest. Ellis did not seem to like him much in dog form either, pleasing Regulus. Her hatred of Sirius was universal.
"You're going to want a bath," said Ellis, a grimace taking over her face. She looked at him, "I was collecting some troll samples earlier."
"Is that what that is? It smells like someone tried to launder a rubbish bin with only a drop of dish soap."
"I needed a repellant for the acromantulas…not that it worked. I probably smell terrible."
He grinned, "No more than usual."
"…prat…"
THE NEXT DAY
"A BOY!" said Myrtle, absolutely thrilled by the sight of Regulus entering the bathroom. "I've seen you before," she giggled. "You do like visiting the Prefect's baths, don't you? Naughty, naughty."
Immediately, Regulus regretted stepping foot in the second-floor girl's lavatory. He paused in the doorway. It was dank and dreary, just as people said. It smelled of stale water and mildew. His mouth curled into a sneer, ready to turn back and tell Ellis that his opinion of her had taken a tumble after being covered in troll and now being forced into a decrepit bathroom straight out of a novel where he was the main character about to be sacrificed in some ritual.
"A boy, Ellis," Myrtle repeated, ignoring Ellis' attempt at a greeting. The ghost wiggled her eyebrows—an impressively animated gesture, considering how translucent she was. "And it'sthatboy. Regulus Black. Heard quite the stories about you," she sang out.
Regulus offered her a slight, polite incline of the head. "Moaning Myrtle, I presume."
"Oooh, it's just Myrtle," she said with forced coyness, floating close enough that Regulus felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"Myrtle—don't tell me you've been spying again." Ellis cast a quick glance at Regulus's stiff shoulders, as though to say,You see what I have to deal with?"Haven't I warned you about that?"
Myrtle crossed her arms with a scowl. "It's not as if I have much fun as a ghost. Can't I have a little peek? Sometimes you're the only entertainment I get. And," she batted her eyelashes absurdly at Regulus, "who wouldn't want a peek at him? Especially after Quidditch worked up."
"Honestly," Ellis snapped, stepping half in front of him, as if to block him from Myrtle's line of sight. It only amused Regulus further. "You wouldn't like it if someone spied on you, would you?"
"What's it matter when I'm dead?" Myrtle shot back, voice quavering with a bitterness that overshadowed her playful tone. "It's not like I have much fun as a ghost."
Ellis gave a short sigh and turned to him. "Sheenjoysthe Prefects' baths more than any actual prefect." Then, her eyes flicked pointedly to Myrtle. "And if she says something horrendously invasive, don't be too surprised."
"I'd appreciate it if she didn't mentioneverythingI do in there," Regulus drawled, half-lidded gaze shifting between the scowling ghost and Ellis. He noticed, with faint satisfaction, the slightest twitch of Ellis's mouth at the corner. "People might get the wrong idea."
Myrtle giggled, pressing cold hands to her cheeks. "I don't know if there's awrongidea. You look plenty sinful enough." She swung closer, and Regulus had to resist the urge to flinch away from the chill of her ghostly aura. "You're… anyone ever told you that?"
Regulus looked at Ellis. "Not nearly enough, Myrtle."
"Oh, no," Myrtle crooned, focusing entirely on Regulus. "I can fix that." She drifted again, pushing off with phantom hands, then stopping herself right by his shoulder. "You must like a bit of fun."
"He does," said Ellis, dryly. "Don't consider yourself too special, Myrtle."
Myrtle's expression twisted in an instant, delight shifting into an indignant pout. "You just want him to yourself," she snarled, whipping around to face Ellis. "Just because someone pays me some attention instead of you doesn't mean you need to go and ruin it!"
"That's not—" Ellis started, but it was too late.
Myrtle shrieked something unintelligible before sweeping through Ellis in a rush of icy mist. Ellis gasped sharply, shuddering as the ghost's presence sent a shockwave of cold rippling through her body. She clenched her fists, regaining her composure as a furious Myrtle vanished into the walls.
Ellis turned and leveled him with a glare that could knock an unsuspecting Hufflepuff right off their broom. "Did you enjoy that?"
He shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Ghosts do love to flatter me. Who am I to deny them?"
Her lips parted as if searching for the correct retort, but all that came out was a short, sputtering noise. "You—that's—Ghosts do not love to flatter you." The annoyance in her voice was almost comedic. "Myrtle's just…like that..."
Something had thawed over the last few weeks and Ellis showed more and more of herself, making Regulus realize that all the time in the world would not be enough to fully know her. She flustered, lost her composure, fell deep into her passions, fixated on things and would not rest until they were made right, and cared so much.
"Why are we here?" asked Regulus, offering her something to focus on.
Ellis pointed at one of the sinks by the back wall. "That is the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets."
Silence.
Regulus tilted his head, staring at the unassuming sink. He thought to all the strange things he'd seen Ellis doing. "Are you certain?"
He listened intently as Ellis explained why she had been in the Forbidden Forest, her conversation with the groundskeeper, her friendship with Moaning Myrtle, the Gaunts drying up their wealth to fund the plumbing and found that there was no other possibility than the one that Ellis offered. He approached the sink, crouching down to look at the snake embossed in the metal.
Ellis hovered over his shoulder, clutching his shirt anxiously. "Tom Riddle opened the Chamber and used the basilisk to kill Myrtle."
"His first victim…and she's been here since…" Something close to pity surged inside him. Myrtle Warren was two years younger than him and still very much a teenage girl—hurt by cruel words, killed by a cruel boy. Regulus had wanted to die a thousand times over the course of the last year. What else was death but an escape? Here, it was a prison.
Dead for the crime of being a muggleborn. Dead because she'd been teased and ran off to cry in private. Because someone had taken advantage of the fact that she was disliked, alone, friendless.
His shame swelled up like the tide. Cold and heat flashed through him in waves.I would've done nothing. I would have never noticed any of this. I would not have cared.
As she had last night, Ellis stayed by his side. He wanted to plead with Ellis not to be kind to him. She made him think he would do anything to survive all this, just to see the other side of the war with her.
"What are you going to do?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
"Open it."
A surge of something close to bravery ignited within him—Tom Riddle, the cunning Lord Voldemort, the shrewd and ambitious Dark Lord, had miscalculated. Here stood a witch Regulus was certain could defeat him. Just as he had when he first learned of the Dark Lord, Regulus began to envision a new world.
And for the first time, Regulus thought he might live to see it.
Notes:
Durmstrang is next and that one is so, so fun (to me at least) and it's very long. Amelia, Ellis, and Professor Flitwick are all in it and we get a bit of a new cast (lol, sorry for all the OCs, I know they're not exactly popular)
Also, I opened a Tumblr and feel like an official fanfic writer now: poppyofthemilk