The Transfiguration classroom was filled with the soft hum of murmured spells and the occasional flicker of magic as students worked on their assignments. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting shifting patterns over the wooden desks. The air smelled faintly of parchment and the slight burn of magic gone wrong, as someone had just failed their transfiguration and scorched their desk in the process.

Carlos barely noticed.

He sat with his wand idly twirling between his fingers, eyes fixed on the simple instructions written on the board. It was basic- too basic. With a flick of his wrist, the goblet in front of him shimmered and shifted, seamlessly morphing into a sleek, black raven. The bird shook its feathers before settling into a perfect, lifelike stillness.

From across the room, Alonso's sharp gaze landed on him.

"Impressive," he said, voice neutral. He barely spared a glance at the rest of the class, who were still struggling to get their goblets to change shape at all. "But let's try something a little more advanced, shall we?"

He flicked his wand, and the raven reverted back to a goblet.

Carlos exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing. He wasn't going to rise to it. He refused to. With a flick of his wand, he transfigured the goblet again, but this time, the raven spread its wings, let out a deep, croaking call, and fluttered onto the desk beside him.

Alonso didn't react. Instead, he simply nodded. "De nuevo."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Lando, sitting a few seats away, had been watching the silent exchange unfold with growing confusion. He knew something was wrong- obviously something was wrong- but Carlos wasn't saying anything, wasn't reacting beyond cold efficiency. And Alonso... Alonso kept pushing.

The pattern repeated.

He would undo Carlos' work, give him a harder challenge, and Carlos would complete it effortlessly, all without looking at him directly. Each time, the spells grew more complex- turning metal into flesh, flesh into wood, wood into something intangible before bringing it back again. There was no hesitation, no struggle, just quiet, controlled magic.

But Lando saw the way his grip on his wand tightened ever so slightly. The way his jaw clenched, the way his breathing remained steady but his posture was just a little too rigid.

He wasn't unaffected. He just refused to show it.

Carlos, on the other hand, was only half-present in the room. His mind kept circling back to what Oscar had said earlier- that Lando hadn't immediately taken the news well. That Lando, his best friend, had hesitated. He wanted to forgive him, he thought he had, but it hurt. It was there, nagging at the back of his mind with every transfiguration he completed.

Lando hesitated.

Another spell. Another flawless transformation. Another pointed look from Alonso, silently daring him to mess up.

Carlos met his gaze, defiant.

Lando finally had enough.

"Professor," he said, his tone sharper than usual. "Why are you only making Carlos do these?"

Professor Alonso turned to him, his expression unreadable for a brief moment before settling into something perfectly neutral. "Because he's capable."

Carlos let out a quiet scoff, not even bothering to look at him. "No, because you want me to mess up."

For a brief second, something flickered across Alonso's face. It was gone before Lando could name it.

The silence that followed was heavy.

The other students were still focused on their own work, oblivious to the storm brewing between the three of them.

Lando narrowed his eyes, his earlier frustrations with Alonso rushing back in full force. He hadn't forgiven him. Not after everything that had happened. Not after what he'd done to Carlos.

And now this? What was he doing?

Carlos, meanwhile, refused to drop Alonso's gaze. He was still thinking about Lando, still thinking about Oscar's words, still thinking about how easily everything was unraveling.

Lando had hesitated.

The thought coiled inside him, settling like a weight in his chest.

Alonso held his gaze for a moment longer before looking away.

"Class dismissed," he said, voice clipped.

Carlos was the first to leave. His movements were tense, his hands curled into fists as he strode down the corridor without so much as a glance back. Lando hesitated for only a moment before muttering a curse under his breath and hurrying after him.

"Chili!" He called, weaving through the throngs of students spilling out of the classroom. "Mate, slow down!"

Carlos didn't slow. If anything, he picked up the pace, his jaw tight, his shoulders locked.

Lando caught up just as he turned a corner, grabbing his wrist before he could disappear entirely. "What the hell was that?" Lando demanded, breathless.

Carlos wrenched his arm away, glaring. Don't touch me. "What was what?"

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Don't do that. Don't act like I'm imagining things. You and Alonso. Now what's going on?"

Carlos let out a short, humorless laugh. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," Lando snapped. He took a step closer, forcing Carlos to look at him. "You barely even looked at him the whole class, but I could feel the tension from across the bloody room. He kept pushing you, and you just kept taking it- why?"

He shrugged, his expression carefully neutral. "Maybe I just like a challenge."

"You're full of it," Lando said, voice rising. He was getting frustrated now, and Carlos could feel it. "I get it, you're mad, but why won't you just- just talk to me? What is it about me that makes you unable to tell me anything anymore? What have I done?"

Carlos' grip tightened on his bag. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Lando exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You never do. You bottle everything up, push people away, and then act like you're fine." His tone was edged with exasperation. "And I know you're not. So why won't you just say what's wrong? I tell you everything, all the time. But you can't seem to do the same. Is this a one-sided thing?"

Carlos didn't answer. He stared at Lando, his expression blank, but there was something flickering beneath the surface- something unreadable.

Lando scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. "You know what? Fine. Don't tell me." He took a step back, exhaling through his nose and shaking his head. "Forget it," he muttered, turning on his heel. "Enjoy being miserable."

Carlos watched him go, his stomach twisting.

Lando hadn't made it far when Carlos' voice, sharp and edged with something raw, cut through the space between them.

"So now you suddenly care?"

Lando halted. He turned slowly, his brows knitting together as he stared at Carlos, who stood rigid, fists clenched at his sides. His breathing was uneven, his eyes dark with something unreadable. Something unnatural.

There is no way he just said that. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Lando shot back.

Carlos let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "You want to know what's wrong, Lando? Fine. Let's talk about it. Let's talk about how, when you first found out, you hesitated. How you didn't believe me. How I saw it in your face- you were afraid of me."

Lando's stomach twisted. "That's not- "

"You think I didn't notice?" Carlos interrupted, voice sharp. "You think I didn't see the way you looked at me when I told you what happened? You had to think about whether you still- " He broke off, exhaling harshly. "Oscar was right about you."

Lando flinched like he'd been struck. "Excuse me?"

Carlos gave a bitter laugh, the anger in his expression flickering with something else- something tired. "You still don't get it, do you? You're my best friend, Lando. And I needed you. And you- you hesitated."

Lando opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no words.

Carlos exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Olvídalo. Lo hecho, hecho está." He turned away.

But this time, Lando didn't let him walk off. "Wait- just- " He took a step forward, frustration and guilt warring in his expression. "That's not fair. I didn't hesitate because I didn't care- I was just trying to understand- "

"Don't," Carlos said flatly, turning back just enough to meet Lando's gaze. His voice was quieter now, but it carried the weight of something heavy. "I don't need you to explain it away. I needed you then, and you hesitated. That's all there is to it."

Lando stared at him, his throat tight, his heart pounding. He wanted to argue, to fight back, to tell Carlos he was wrong- but deep down, he knew there was truth in what he was saying.

And Carlos could see it in his face.

So, this time, when he walked away, Lando didn't stop him.

He sat in the common room, staring at the fire, but seeing nothing. Carlos' words echoed in his head, looping over and over like a curse.

"Oscar was right about you."

Lando clenched his jaw. He wanted to be angry- angry at Carlos for saying that, for throwing it in his face like a knife meant to wound. But the truth was, it wasn't the words that hurt the most. It was the way Carlos had said them. That bitterness, that exhaustion, like he had already decided Lando wasn't worth the fight anymore.

That thought made something twist in his chest, sharp and unbearable.

Had he hesitated? He didn't want to believe it, but the moment Carlos told him- the moment he saw the bite, the scars, the weight of what had happened- he had frozen. Not because he was afraid of Carlos never Carlos, the wolf: maybe, but because he hadn't known what to say. What to do. How to fix it.

And maybe, to Carlos, that was just as bad.

Lando ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He hadn't wanted to doubt Carlos, even for a second. But the truth was, it was hard to believe. Not the fact that Carlos was a werewolf- Lando didn't care about that. It was the fact that Carlos had been bitten again, that he had nearly died, that Alonso had blamed him, that Oscar had known before Lando even got the chance to process it-

Oscar.

Lando exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.

Why had Carlos thrown Oscar's name into it? What had Oscar been saying to him?

Lando had always known Oscar had opinions- loud, annoying ones- but he didn't think Carlos would actually listen to them. And yet, here they were.

"I needed you then, and you hesitated."

Lando's hands curled into fists. That wasn't fair. He had been there. He was still here.

But maybe that wasn't enough anymore.

Maybe, for Carlos, it was already too late.

Lando barely noticed as the common room grew quieter, students filtering out for the night. The fire crackled, casting long shadows along the walls, but he remained still, his mind caught in the snare of his own thoughts.

He could still see Carlos' face- pale, tired, but burning with something sharp. The way he'd looked at Lando, like he was waiting for him to prove something.

Had he failed him?

Lando hated that question. Hated that it was even in his head.

I was there, he told himself. I've always been there.

But had it mattered? Had it been enough?

He had thought they were inseparable, that nothing could shake them, that there was an unspoken certainty between them that no doubt could touch. But when Carlos had looked at him today, there had been doubt. And worse- there had been hurt. So, so much of it.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

Oscar's words about him still burned.

"You don't even realise how easily you could lose him, do you?"

Lando had shrugged it off at the time, too annoyed to take him seriously. But now? Now he wasn't so sure.

He wanted to talk to Carlos, to tell him- what, exactly? That he was sorry? That he had hesitated, but not for the reason Carlos thought? That he wasn't going anywhere, no matter what happened?

But Carlos wasn't in the common room. He wasn't in their dorm. He hadn't come back.

Lando tapped his fingers restlessly against the arm of the chair, staring into the fire.

For the first time in a long time, he wondered if there were things about Carlos- things inside Carlos- that he would never fully understand. And that scared him more than anything.

The next morning, Lando tracked Oscar down in the Great Hall.

He was halfway through his breakfast, looking entirely unbothered as he bit into a piece of toast. The moment he spotted Lando marching toward him, however, he sighed and set it down.

"Really? Can I not have one peaceful morning?"

Lando stopped just short of slamming his hands on the table. "What did Carlos tell you?"

Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

Lando wasn't in the mood. "Don't play dumb."

Oscar's expression remained unreadable, but something flickered behind his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lando clenched his jaw. Carlos had been different last night- withdrawn, thoughtful, troubled- and Lando knew Oscar had something to do with it.

"You were with him," Lando said. "I know you were. And now he's- he's thinking about things differently. He told me."

Oscar shrugged. "Maybe he just needed to think differently."

"Stop dodging the question."

"I'm not dodging anything," Oscar said smoothly, leaning back in his seat. "Maybe he just needed a different perspective on some things. And maybe that's not your business."

Lando stiffened. "Not my- ? Before September, you both hated each other. He's my best friend, Oscar, not yours."

Oscar met his gaze evenly. "Yeah? Then maybe you should act like it. I'm not trying to be, by the way. I don't need to be."

Lando bristled, fists tightening, but Oscar didn't look fazed. If anything, he looked amused- and that only made Lando angrier.

He inhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down. "I know Carlos tells you things," he said, voice lower now, measured. "Things he doesn't tell me. I just want to know what you're keeping from me."

Oscar smirked, lifting his goblet like he was making a toast. "Nice try. But I actually don't know what you're talking about. We don't talk about things like that."

Lando glared, searching for any sign of hesitation, any crack in Oscar's carefully controlled demeanor. But there was nothing.

Frustration clawed at him, but Oscar had played his cards perfectly. If Lando pushed any harder, he'd just look desperate.

So he exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. "Fine."

Oscar grinned. "Glad we had this chat."

Lando turned on his heel and stormed off, but the irritation remained lodged in his chest.

Oscar was hiding something. He knew it. But for now, he had nothing to prove it.