The halls were emptying as students filtered out of the Great Hall. The low hum of conversation faded into the distance, leaving only the distant crackle of torches against cold stone walls. Carlos barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere- on the sharp burn of his skin, the way his fingers had trembled when he gripped his fork during dinner.

Then-

"Stay a moment."

Carlos stopped dead in his tracks. His entire body tensed before he slowly turned around.

Fernando stood a few paces away, his gaze unreadable. The light from the torches flickered strangely, casting long shadows behind him.

He crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

Fernando tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning Carlos' face with something too sharp, too knowing.

"You've been... different," he said. His voice was calm, measured- but there was something beneath it. Something heavy.

Carlos forced his expression to stay neutral. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fernando exhaled, stepping closer. "Don't play games with me." His voice was quiet, but it cut through the silence like a blade. "I know you."

Carlos swallowed, his nails digging into his arm. You don't know me. Not anymore.

He studied him carefully, his gaze flicking- too briefly- to Carlos' collarbone, as if he could see straight through the fabric, straight to the fresh bite that had wrecked his life all over again.

Carlos' stomach twisted.

Alonso shook his head. "You're keeping something from me."

Carlos let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Sabrías todo sobre eso." His voice was tight, edged with something dangerously close to bitterness. "Considering you're the one who never tells me anything."

Something flickered across Fernando's face- regret? Frustration? Carlos didn't care.

He could still hear his words from all those weeks ago echoing in his mind. It tests your truth, and sometimes, the truth isn't something you can run from.

Fernando had known. He had all but encouraged Carlos and Lando to explore the Chamber. He had known something would happen, yet he had said nothing.

Carlos clenched his fists, feeling his nails bite into his palms. "If you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth," he said, voice low and controlled, "Then don't expect me to trust you either."

Fernando's expression darkened. "This isn't about trust-"

"¡Sí, lo es!" Carlos snapped. His breath was coming faster now, his hands trembling at his sides. "It always has been! You- " He took a step back, shaking his head. "I wish things could just go back to the way they were. Before all of this. Before you decided I wasn't worth trusting anymore. When you still cared."

Fernando's lips pressed into a thin line. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Carlos was already turning away.

"Be careful, Carlitos."

He didn't stop.

He didn't look back.

Carlos laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His limbs felt heavy, like he was sinking into the mattress, yet his mind wouldn't stop racing.

He could hear everything.

Lando's slow, steady breathing from across the room. The distant creak of footsteps in the corridor. The rustling of a mouse in the walls.

His body ached- not in the way he was used to. This wasn't the familiar pain of a transformation creeping up on him before the full moon. This was something else.

Something worse.

He shifted, and a shiver ran down his spine. The room was dark, but the shadows- they weren't right.

The torchlight from the corridor barely reached through the cracked door, but even so, the darkness around him seemed deeper. Thicker. It curled in the corners, shifting ever so slightly, as if it was breathing.

Carlos sat up abruptly, his pulse hammering. The sheets tangled around his legs, suffocating, and his chest burned beneath the fabric of his shirt.

He yanked it open, fingers shaking, and pressed a hand against his collarbone.

The second bite was warm. Not feverish- alive. The skin around it pulsed, the faintest sensation of something stirring underneath.

He inhaled sharply.

This wasn't normal.

This was wrong.

The full moon wasn't tonight, not for a few days.

His breath came fast and shallow, his hands trembling as he tore himself from the bed and grabbed his cloak. He had to go.

Now.

The castle was dark, save for the occasional flickering torch. Shadows stretched unnaturally down the corridor, twisting and curling like ink in water.

He forced himself to keep moving. He needed to find Oscar. The Astronomy Tower was quiet. Cold. The wind howled through the open archways, biting against Carlos' exposed skin as he stepped onto the stone balcony.

Oscar was there, leaning against the railing, staring up at the sky. He turned when he heard Carlos approach, his usual smirk absent.

"Took you long enough," he said, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness. He frowned, his eyes scanning Carlos' face. "You look...ill."

Carlos exhaled harshly, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Yeah. Feel like it, too."

Oscar straightened, crossing his arms. "Are you okay?"

Carlos hesitated. He didn't even know how to begin to explain. Instead of answering, he stepped closer, turning his wrist under the moonlight. The skin looked normal.

Then-

The shadows shifted.

Oscar stiffened. "What the-"

The inky blackness curled up Carlos' forearm before retreating like something alive, disappearing beneath his skin as if it had never been there.

Oscar took a step back. His face had gone pale.

"Carlos," he said slowly. "What the hell was that?"

Carlos swallowed, his throat dry. He met Oscar's eyes and whispered,

"I think I'm losing myself."

Oscar didn't reply right away. He just stared at Carlos, his expression caught somewhere between horror and disbelief.

For the first time, Carlos was truly afraid. And from the look in Oscar's eyes, he was, too.

The cold pressed against Carlos' skin, but it wasn't what made him shiver.

Oscar was staring at his arm, eyes locked on the place where the shadows had disappeared beneath his skin. His face was unreadable- too still, too quiet.

Carlos' breathing was uneven. His fingers twitched.

Say something.

He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, every beat like a warning. He didn't want to hear silence. Silence meant rejection. Silence meant Lando, stepping back, turning away, saying he didn't-

Say something.

Oscar wasn't moving. He wasn't reacting.

The cold twisted deeper into Carlos' spine.

His voice came out hoarse. "Oscar?"

Nothing.

Carlos clenched his fists, stomach twisting. "Por favor-"

Oscar exhaled sharply, a breath that broke the silence like a crack of thunder. His eyes flicked up, sharp and searching.

Carlos' throat tightened. He didn't know what expression he was making, but whatever it was made Oscar's brow furrow slightly.

Then-

"What the hell was that?"

Carlos flinched. He didn't know if it was from the words or the fact that Oscar had finally spoken.

"I don't-" He swallowed hard. "I don't know."

Oscar's gaze flickered back to his arm. "Carlos," he said, and something in his voice made his pulse spike.

Not anger. Not disgust.

But something dangerously close to fear.

A fresh wave of panic surged through his chest.

No, no, not him too.

His breathing hitched. His fingers twitched at his sides. "Don't- don't look at me like that."

Oscar blinked. "Like what?"

"Like you- " Like you're scared of me.

The words stuck in his throat. He couldn't say them.

His hands clenched so tightly they ached. "Just- say something, anything." His voice cracked on the last word. "Don't just stand there."

Oscar was still watching him, gaze unreadable.

Carlos' lungs felt too tight. "Please. I need you to say something,"

Oscar finally let out a breath, shaking his head. "I don't- bloody hell, Carlos, I don't even know what to say."

He let out something between a laugh and a breathless, panicked exhale. He pressed a shaking hand against his face. "Brilliant. That's great."

Oscar crossed his arms. "You're panicking."

"No shit."

Oscar let out a short, humorless laugh, but then his voice turned serious. "I mean it, Carlos. Breathe."

He forced in a shaky inhale, then exhaled. The cold air stung his lungs.

For a few agonising moments, neither of them spoke.

Then, quieter, "You're scared."

His breath hitched.

It was the same thing Oscar had said before. But this time, it wasn't an accusation.

It was a fact.

He turned away, blinking hard. "I'm not-"

Oscar scoffed. "Mate, you're shaking."

He let out a hollow, shaky laugh. "Yeah, well. Kind of a lot happening." Oscar didn't argue. "I thought-" He hesitated. "I thought I knew what this was. Another bite. Another damn full moon to dread." He inhaled shakily. "But this? This is different."

For a long moment, they just stood there. The wind bit at their skin, swirling through the Astronomy Tower like it wanted to push them closer.

Eventually, Carlos exhaled. "We need to go to Pomfrey." His voice was steadier now, but only just.

Oscar frowned. "And Alonso?"

Carlos' jaw clenched. "Not him." His voice was firm, unwavering. "Not anymore."

Something flickered across Oscar's face- approval? Agreement? It was gone before Carlos could place it.

After a beat, Oscar sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine. But if she gives me a detention for 'being a terrible influence' again, I'm blaming you."

"Deal."

He took one last glance up at the sky, at the moon glowing dimly through the thick clouds.

Then he followed Oscar down the tower steps, the weight of the unknown pressing heavy against his spine.

Madam Pomfrey barely looked up when they entered.

"What is it this time?" she asked, already moving toward a cabinet. "Another duel? Broken bones? You'd think after last time- "

She turned, took one proper look at them, and sighed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake. Again?"

Oscar scowled. "We didn't—"

Madam Pomfrey held up a hand. "Save it." She turned to Carlos, scanning him with sharp, practiced eyes. "Well? What did he do this time?"

He blinked. "It's not-"

"Oi," Oscar said, offended.

Pomfrey sighed heavily and gestured for Carlos to sit on the nearest bed. "Go on, let's see the damage."

He swallowed. His fingers curled, then uncurled. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeve. The shadows had more or less disappeared, but the mark was still there- darker than his old scars.

The room went still.

Pomfrey's expression shifted instantly. The usual exasperation vanished, replaced by something softer. Knowing. Then, before she could speak, Carlos said, "It wasn't him."

His voice came out harsher than he meant. Pomfrey blinked.

For a second, Carlos thought she might not believe him. That she'd look at him with suspicion, with doubt, with something worse-

But she didn't.

She stepped closer, gently taking his wrist, examining the wound with careful fingers.

Carlos' throat tightened. "I didn't-"

Carlos swallowed. "It- " His voice cracked. He tried again. "It wasn't me."

His fingers curled into the fabric of his cloak, gripping tight. "It wasn't me," he repeated, softer this time.

Pomfrey exhaled.

"Oh, child," she murmured, and suddenly she was sitting beside him, pressing a gentle hand against his shoulder.

The tension in Carlos' body nearly snapped.

"I know," she said, voice steady, warm. "I know."

Carlos shut his eyes. He didn't realise he was shaking again until he felt Oscar shift beside him, as if debating whether or not to say something.

For once, he didn't.

Pomfrey gave his shoulder a light squeeze before standing. "Alright," she said, back to business. "Let's take a proper look."