The tree near the lake was one of the quieter places on the grounds, a spot where few students ventured during the late afternoon. The wind rustled softly through the leaves, sending ripples across the lake's surface. Carlos sat beneath the gnarled trunk, arms resting on his knees, gaze distant. He had barely spoken to anyone since that night, since everything had spiraled out of his control. He could still feel the phantom pain of the cursed bite, the weight of the past few days pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.

The crunch of footsteps over grass made him tense, but he didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Oscar stopped a few feet away, hesitant. "Figured you'd be here."

Carlos scoffed under his breath. "Great. So now you're tracking me?"

He exhaled sharply. "I just want to talk."

"No interesado."

"Too bad," Oscar said, stepping closer. "Because I owe you an apology."

That made Carlos pause. He finally turned his head slightly, enough to glance at Oscar, skeptical. "For what?"

"For how I treated you before," Oscar admitted, shifting on his feet. "For pushing you when I had no idea what was actually going on. I- I get it now. You're dealing with something bigger than I realised."

Carlos' jaw tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of his trousers. He wanted to lash out, to tell Oscar he had no idea, that he would never understand. But something in his voice- something sincere- made him bite back his usual venom.

"You don't get it," Carlos muttered. "Unless you're being accused of this also, there is no way you could possibly get it."

Oscar didn't flinch. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean I don't regret being an idiot to you." He hesitated before adding, "And I think you regret some of the things you said to me, too."

His throat tightened. He did. Of course, he did. But admitting it felt like surrendering, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

After a long silence, he finally let out a slow, heavy breath. "I do," he murmured. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Oscar nodded. "Then maybe we can stop throwing punches every time we talk."

Carlos huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. "No promises."

Oscar smirked slightly. "I'll take what I can get."

The tension in his chest eased- just a little. He wasn't sure if things between them would ever be completely smooth, but this... this was something.

Oscar shifted on his feet, hesitating before speaking again. "I feel like something else has happened. Does- Lando knows, doesn't he?"

Carlos stiffened at the sudden change in topic. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Sí," he admitted after a moment. "He knows."

"And he- what, took it badly?" Oscar asked, his voice gaining an edge of irritation. "Because from what I've seen, he's still around. Still acting like nothing's changed."

Carlos looked away. "He took it worse than you did, at first."

Oscar's brows furrowed. "Seriously? I completely panicked."

Carlos nodded, voice flat. "To be fair, you caught me at a horrible time, I understand your reaction completely. He freaked out. Couldn't even look at me. And it hurt, Oscar. More than I can explain." He exhaled, pressing his fingers against his temples. "He came around, obviously. But it doesn't change how it felt in the moment. It doesn't change that- for a while, I thought I'd lost him."

Oscar was quiet for a long time, then muttered, "Idiot."

Carlos blinked. "What?"

Oscar looked annoyed now, but not at him- at Lando. "He should've known better. Should've been better. After everything you've been through, he was supposed to be the one person who didn't hesitate."

Carlos swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what to say to that, wasn't sure how to explain that, as much as it had hurt, he had forgiven Lando. That he didn't blame him, not really. But hearing Oscar say it so plainly made something deep inside him ache.

He let out a shuddering breath. "It's done now."

Oscar stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "Doesn't mean it was right."

They sat in silence after that, the wind rustling the leaves above them, carrying unspoken words between them.

Back in the castle, Lewis and Charles sat in their usual corner of the common room, their eyes following Carlos as he walked in, looking even more drained than the last time they'd seen him. He dropped onto one of the armchairs, rubbing his temples like the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

Charles leaned toward Lewis. "He's getting worse."

Lewis nodded grimly. "He's barely talking to anyone. And when he does, it's either snapping or giving the shortest answers possible."

"We should talk to him."

Lewis agreed immediately. "Before it gets even worse."

A few moments later, they approached Carlos' chair, standing over him until he sighed and cracked one eye open. "Qué?" he muttered, voice laced with exhaustion.

Lewis crossed his arms. "We need to talk."

Carlos exhaled, straightening up. "About?"

"About you," Charles said. "To be blunt, something's wrong with you. And before you argue, we've known you long enough to tell when you're trying to hide something. You do it rather often."

Carlos clenched his jaw. He could brush off Oscar, but Lewis and Charles? They had been there through everything. Avoiding them was harder.

"Nothing has changed with me," he said flatly. "Estoy todo bien."

"No, you're not," Lewis countered. "You look like you haven't slept in days, you're more irritable than usual, and you're shutting everyone out."

He let out a sharp breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's just... Fernando. He-" He stopped himself, realising too late that he'd already said too much.

Charles frowned. "Professor Alonso?"

Carlos hesitated, then nodded. "It's nothing. Just- just something between us."

Lewis and Charles exchanged a glance, their concern deepening.

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be like this," Charles pointed out.

He clenched his fists. "It's not something I can talk about."

Lewis sighed. "Alright. But if you ever need to-"

"I won't," Carlos cut in quickly. He looked away. "Pero gracias."

The words were clipped, but they recognised them for what they were. He was struggling, and even if he wasn't ready to talk, at least he knew they were there.

The dungeons were dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long, wavering shadows against the cold stone walls. The air was thick with the pungent aroma of crushed ingredients, a mixture of damp earth, burnt herbs, and something vaguely metallic. It was supposed to be an easy class—something that required little effort beyond stirring and waiting. But Carlos could barely focus. His mind was elsewhere, lost in a haze of exhaustion and the dull, ever-present ache of his wounds.

Oscar sat beside him, unusually quiet, occasionally glancing at him as though waiting for Carlos to say something. When it became clear that he wasn't going to speak first, Oscar took it upon himself.

"So," he muttered, keeping his voice low as he crushed some dried beetles with the flat of his knife. "You found what you were looking for. You and Lando."

Carlos's grip on his quill tightened slightly. He had been vague before, never explicitly telling Oscar about the Chamber, but there was no point in dodging the question anymore. "Sí," he admitted.

Oscar frowned. "And?"

Carlos hesitated, glancing around the classroom to make sure no one was listening. Then, in a voice just above a whisper, he said, "I was cursed. Again."

Oscar's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'again'?"

Carlos inhaled slowly through his nose, his fingers twitching slightly before he made his decision. He undid the top button of his shirt, then another, and pulled the fabric aside just enough to expose the wound that had nearly cost him his life.

Oscar's breath hitched.

The bite was massive- jagged, swollen, and a sickly mixture of dark red and mottled purple. The flesh was torn unevenly, the deep indentations of massive fangs still visible beneath the half-healed tissue. The skin around it was raw, tinged with the faint silvery sheen of old scarring meeting fresh trauma. Even in the dim candlelight, it looked horrific.

Oscar's stomach twisted. "Fucking hell," he breathed.

Carlos quickly rebuttoned his shirt, the moment of exposure brief but enough to leave Oscar staring at him, unsettled.

Oscar swallowed hard. "That- that wasn't just some normal curse, was it?"

Carlos exhaled sharply, his expression grim. "No."

The rest of the lesson passed in silence, Oscar digesting the horror of what he had just seen, and Carlos pretending like he hadn't just revealed something unspeakable.

When class finally ended, Oscar followed him out of the dungeons, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn't speak at first, waiting until they were a good distance from prying ears before he finally muttered, "What the hell happened to you?"

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Oscar scoffed. "Try me."

He studied him for a moment before exhaling and turning away slightly. Then, without warning, he rolled up his sleeves.

Oscar felt his breath catch again. Long claw marks trailed up his forearm, uneven and deep, disappearing beneath the fabric of his sleeve.

Carlos lifted his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal the new, raw, jagged scars stretching across his ribs. Some were precise, surgical almost, while others looked like they had been carved in the heat of battle. Evidence of fights he had barely survived.

Oscar felt something cold settle in his gut. "Who- " He swallowed. "What did this to you?"

Carlos' jaw tensed. "Our 'little treasure hunt.'"

Oscar stared at him, disbelief flashing across his face. "That's not possible. There was no full moon."

Carlos' expression darkened. "It wasn't the moon," he murmured. "It was magic. It- It did something to me. I didn't understand, I still don't. It forced me to change, that shouldn't be possible, but it happened."

Oscar took an unconscious step back, not out of fear, but out of sheer shock. The weight of his words pressed down on him, cold and suffocating. "There was- there was another werewolf- I had to fight it but it- I-" He cut himself but placed a hand delicately over his new bite.

"It bit you, didn't it?"

Carlos let his shirt fall back into place, his arms dropping to his sides. "Now you know," he said, his voice hollow. "So, go ahead. Say whatever you want to say."

Oscar opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, he had nothing to say. Nothing sharp. Nothing cruel. Just the realisation that, for all the fights they had, for all the times he had doubted Carlos, he had never imagined anything like this.

And, for the first time, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to know more.