The new chamber pulsed with a life of its own, shadows writhing against the walls. The air felt thick, oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Lando and Carlos stood at opposite ends of the glowing platform in the centre, neither willing to look at the other after the horrors of the last trial.

On the floor between them, an inscription burned with faint, pulsing light:

"To proceed, you must confront and accept this truth. Only mutual understanding will shatter these chains."

Without warning, tendrils of light burst from the platform, wrapping around their wrists and pulling them into place. Lando tensed as a voice filled the chamber, deep and resonant:

"The past is your prison, but it is also your key. Relive it, share it, accept it... or remain trapped forever."

Carlos' face darkened, and Lando saw the faint tremble in his hands.

Tendrils of light snaked toward Lando, encircling him in a glowing cocoon. His surroundings dissolved, and he found himself standing in a small, dimly lit room. He realised he wasn't alone- Carlos was there, but younger, barely eleven.

The scene shifted like a dream.

He watched as young Carlos sat alone in the Great Hall, his plate untouched. Whispers surrounded him, the words harsh and cutting.

"Have you heard the rumours about his family?"
"He's cursed. His family's cursed."
"I heard they're dangerous."

The young Carlos didn't react. He kept his head down, but Lando saw his trembling hands and the way his jaw clenched tightly. This must be near when we started first year, I didn't know him yet, Lando realised.

The room blurred and re-formed. Now, Lando stood in a dark, cramped space that smelled of old wood and iron. Young Carlos knelt in the centre, trembling.

"No," Carlos whispered to himself, his voice cracking. "Not again. Por favor no otra vez. No puedo- por favor- "

From outside, muffled voices argued:
"You can't keep doing this to him!" a woman shouted.
"We don't have a choice," a man replied, his tone harsh. "You know what he'll become. We have to protect the others."

The transformation began abruptly. Carlos screamed, his body convulsing as his bones twisted and reshaped themselves. His fingers elongated, nails ripping into claws as his face stretched into a grotesque snout. Blood smeared the floor where his nails scraped, his cries fading into guttural howls.

Lando recoiled, horror gripping him as the door slammed open. A man entered, wand raised, but froze when the transformed Carlos lunged at him. The scene flickered, leaving Lando breathless.

The next memory was quieter but no less painful. Lando watched as an older Carlos sat in the Hogwarts library, a stack of books in front of him. His hands trembled as he tried to write, but he couldn't focus.

"You're not like them," a voice echoed in Lando's mind- a memory of Carlos' own thoughts. "You'll never belong here."

As the chamber shifted and pulled Lando into another memory, he found himself on the warmly lit Quidditch pitch. The roar of the crowd echoed in the distance, and he recognised the familiar scene- it was Carlos' first Quidditch match at Hogwarts back in first year. The professors had made an exception for him as he already played professionally.

Carlos stood at the edge of the pitch, his broom clutched tightly in his hands. He looked smaller somehow, his shoulders hunched as though trying to disappear. Lando could see the tension in his posture, the way his fingers trembled as he adjusted his gloves.

"Hey," came a younger version of Lando's voice, cheerful and unguarded.

Carlos flinched, looking up with wide eyes. "Oh. Hola."

"Are you nervous?" Lando asked, grinning. "Don't worry about it. You've got this. You've been practicing all week- you're faster than anyone out there."

Carlos' lips twitched into a faint smile, but he didn't reply.

Lando clapped him on the shoulder, his younger self completely unaware of the storm brewing behind Carlos' eyes. "Let's win this, yeah?"

For a moment, Carlos froze, staring at Lando as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard. Then he nodded, the smallest flicker of hope crossing his face.

Everything shifted, dragging Lando to a quieter moment. The dorm room was empty, the roar of the match long gone. Young Carlos sat at the sofa, still in his Quidditch robes, his hands gripping his broom so tightly his knuckles were white.

At first, Lando thought Carlos was angry- until he noticed the tears streaming down his face.

"I shouldn't have let him get close," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of the castle. "What if I slip up? What if I hurt him?"

Carlos buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. "He's my first real friend, and I'm going to ruin it. I know I will. I always ruin everything. Soy un maldito monstruo."

Lando's heart clenched as he watched. He wanted to reach out, to tell his past self to do something, but he could only stand there, helpless.

The memory dissolved, leaving Lando back in the glowing chamber. His chest felt tight, the weight of everything he'd seen threatening to crush him.

"You..." He started, his voice unsteady. "You thought you'd hurt me? You thought-"

Carlos didn't look at him, his head bowed as he stood in the centre of the room. "Of course, I thought that," he said quietly. "That's all I've ever done. Hurt people. Break things. That's why I didn't want to let anyone in."

"But you let me in anyway," Lando said, his voice breaking.

"I didn't have a choice," Carlos admitted, his shoulders sagging. "You were the first person who didn't look at me like I was... like I was dangerous. You treated me like I was normal." He laughed bitterly. "And I wanted so badly to believe it was true. At least now I know that's not the truth."

Lando's heart ached as he thought of the younger Carlos sitting alone, crying over a friendship he thought he didn't deserve.

The chamber pulsed again, the voice echoing through the air: "Acceptance is the key. Without it, the path forward remains closed."

Lando's hands curled into fists. "I- I don't know if I can," he admitted, the fear still clawing at his chest. "It's a lot, Carlos. All of this... it's a lot."

He flinched, his head dropping further.

"But," Lando continued, forcing the words out, "I know this. You've never hurt me, not once. And I've seen now how hard you've tried not to. You didn't deserve any of this- not the curse, not the scars, not the way people treated you. And... maybe I don't understand all of it yet. Maybe I never will. But I don't want to leave you behind."

Carlos looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Do you mean that?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to accept everything right now," Lando admitted. "But I'm willing to try."

The chamber shuddered, the platform glowing brighter as the door creaked open. The voice echoed once more, softer this time: "Understanding begins with a step."

Lando stepped forward, glancing back at him. "Come on."

Carlos hesitated, his hand brushing against the scars on his wrist. "Are you sure?"

Lando nodded, though his expression was still tinged with uncertainty. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Together, they crossed the threshold, the tension between them heavy but no longer unbearable. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, it felt possible.