Adrien.

"Okay," Sage said, arms stretched wide like she was orchestrating a magical heist. "We need three things: a portkey, a backup plan, and outfits that won't scream 'we skipped school to explore a haunted French ruin.' In that order."

Maddie groaned. "Can't we just use the emergency broom stash behind the Herbology shed?"

"We're going to Beauxbatons," I reminded her. "Not sneaking out for late-night pastries."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "She's right. If we show up on mismatched brooms with frizzy hair and no coordination, they'll exile us before we even make it to the labyrinth."

"Wow," Maddie deadpanned. "Glad to know centuries-old magical death traps still rank below 'bad outfit' on the crisis scale."

"And if we get caught," Sage added, ignoring her, "we say we're on a foreign magical studies exchange program."

"Without paperwork?" I asked.

"Exactly," Sage said. "We look confused, sound charming, and pretend we're researching interschool wand durability. Boom. Plausible."

Katie snorted. "That's your plan? Charm them with fake academia and cheekbones?"

Maddie popped a piece of fudge in her mouth. "Honestly, it's worked before."

We were walking the path along the lake, letting the conversation drift with the wind and fudge wrappers. The sky was heavy with post-rain mist, and the air carried that weirdly sharp scent that always came right before something went wrong.

But we didn't feel that yet.

Not yet.

At the moment, we were knee-deep in bad ideas and boyfriend gossip.

"Fred would build us a portkey if I asked," I muttered, kicking a rock. "But he'd also build it into a prank device and launch us directly into a pond."

Katie snorted. "George would pretend to help, then sell us a decoy and pocket the real one for some new product line."

"Rowan would try to help," Maddie said, grinning. "But then he'd get distracted by Katie's eyes and walk straight into a tree."

"True," Katie said, not even pretending to be offended. "He did that last month."

"He also still has a concussion, by the way," Sage added. "Not from the tree — from trying to explain why he thought your bed was Katie's."

Maddie pointed a dramatic finger. "Still sanitizing. Still emotionally recovering. That mattress has seen things."

I snorted. "You hexed it."

"I cleansed it," she corrected. "With fire."

Katie rolled her eyes. "It was one time."

"And my trauma," Maddie said sweetly.

Sage smirked. "Cassian would help... but only after giving a twenty-minute monologue about the historical misuse of portkey enchantments and how it's 'a metaphor for institutional magical elitism.'"

Maddie rolled her eyes fondly. "You say that like it's not part of the charm."

I snorted. "He's grown on you, hasn't he?"

Maddie smirked and shrugged like it didn't matter, but the faint smile said otherwise. "I don't like his timing. Or his creepy sixth sense. Or the way he shows up every time a ward flickers like he's summoned by cursed vibrations."

Katie grinned. "You're dating him."

"Yeah, and she loves it," Sage chimed in, "Meanwhile, my boyfriend can't focus for more than five minutes without enchanting something in the mirror to wink at him."

"Oh, please," Maddie shot back. "You melt every time George calls you babe."

"I do not," Sage said, instantly blushing.

"You do," I said.

"You really do," Katie added, smug.

Sage launched a chocolate wrapper at my head. "Don't come for me just because I have a type."

"What, chaotic redhead with zero concept of personal space and the emotional range of a howler monkey?" Maddie asked.

Sage lifted her chin. "Exactly. And I will not be shamed for it."

We all cracked up — loud, breathless, unfiltered.

The kind of laugh that made it easy to forget, for just a second, everything we were about to walk into.

Loud. Free. Like for a moment, the world wasn't unraveling.

But then—

I stopped walking.

Mid-step. Mid-laugh.

Something shifted. The air changed. The hairs on my arms rose.

Katie noticed first. "Adrien?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

There was a tug under my skin — deep and magnetic, like something ancient had just whispered my name through the roots of the trees.

The Forbidden Forest.

My feet turned toward it without asking permission.

"Adrien," Sage repeated, frowning now. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. "But something's pulling me."

Katie stepped forward, already reaching for her wand. "Where?"

I pointed through the mist, heart suddenly thudding hard.

"There," I whispered. "The edge of the forest. Something's wrong."

And just like that, the laughter faded. The walk turned into a mission.

And the air— Started to hum.

I stopped walking.

Katie's head snapped toward me almost instantly, her eyes narrowing.

"You feel that?" she asked.

I nodded slowly, already stepping off the path.

We followed the pull through the trees until the clearing opened up like a breath that had been held too long. The scent hit first — wet earth, decay, something darker curling under the rain-heavy soil.

A grave. Large. Fresh.

Sage squinted through the mist. "Wait—is this where they buried Aragog?"

"Has to be," Katie said, voice low.

I didn't answer. I was already kneeling in the mud, hand hovering just above the soil.

The magic was scorched into it.

Runes.

But not like mine. Not raw and burning.

These were coated. Suppressed. Twisted under layers of transfiguration magic. Like someone had used the funeral—used Aragog's death—to hide something far more dangerous.

My fingers trembled.

Not from fear.

From recognition.

Katie knelt beside me, brushing back a layer of damp leaves at the base of the roots. She froze.

"Empty vial," she said, holding it up between two fingers. "Still warm."

That made my stomach twist.

Someone had done a spell here. Recently.

Maddie glanced back at Hagrid's hut. "Okay, distraction time."

Sage cleared her throat and practically sashayed into view, calling out, "HAGRID! Is it true that male Acromantulas serenade their mates by tapping on their thorax plates?"

"What?" Hagrid called, visibly startled. "Who told yeh that?"

"I read it in Witches Weekly!" she shouted. "Do they make the clicking noise with their fangs or their butts?"

Maddie didn't miss a beat. "Also, can they get STDs? Asking for an Arithmancy project."

Sage choked. "Maddie."

But the distraction worked. Hagrid's heavy footsteps paused. He grunted something about "ruddy kids and their weird coursework," and turned back toward his hut.

Meanwhile, Katie's fingers slid over mine.

Warm. Grounding. Real.

We stayed there, breath shallow, hands pressed to soil that still buzzed with magic.

But the pull didn't fade.

Not completely.

It just shifted—into memory.

Katie was the first to stand. "We should walk the perimeter, see if whoever cast this spell left anything else behind."

I nodded, numb, and rose to my feet. My knees cracked.

The air felt heavier the farther we moved from the center of the grave. The trees leaned in too much. The shadows seemed longer than they should've been.

We split off instinctively—Katie pacing toward the northern edge and the eastern ridge, muttering theories under her breath. I walked the line of exposed roots curling through the ground like veins.

"This is where it happened, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

I didn't pretend not to know what she meant.

"Yeah."

"We tried to take a walk...but..." Katie's voice cut off for a moment, like she was trying to talk through a knot in her throat. She cleared her throat with a soft sigh, "Fourth year."

I swallowed hard. "We were standing right here when it started. Anselme showed up just beyond that ridge."

I pointed, and we both paused like we could still see the glow of his wand glow through the mist.

Katie let out a low breath. "God. I forgot how quiet it was before he struck."

"No," I said. "You didn't."

She glanced at me, then looked away again. "No," she admitted.

The silence hung between us—thick with memories neither of us wanted but still carried like scars.

After a moment, Katie spoke again.

"Have you... talked to Blaise?"

I hesitated.

She noticed.

"You have."

"Not like that," I said. "We've had detention—which I've skipped in protest since. Which turned into a shouting match. Which turned into me shoving him, which turned into him dropping a cursed book with the same runes I have on my skin."

Katie stiffened.

"It's laced with magic. I think it's where the cursed letter came from. Blasie said he was told to send the letter, he allegedly had no clue what was in or what it would do." I paused. "Cassian's has the book and been helping me break it down."

"Cassian," she echoed. "Your rune cryptid."

"He's not a cryptid," I muttered, defensive without meaning to. "He's sensitive to this stuff and well educated."

Katie smirked. "You sure? Because he appears exactly when the runes go sideways—"

The trees rustled. Not wind.

Movement.

A flicker in the wards.

And then—

"I heard my name," Cassian said, emerging from the mist like he'd been summoned by our anxiety and dramatic irony.

I swear the man didn't walk so much as materialize.

His coat was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, eyes already scanning the air like it was a language only he could read.

"You felt it," I said.

He nodded. "The break hit like a pulse. Something under the soil's still active."

He paused.

Cassian sighed. "Brilliant."

Maddie reappeared behind him, holding a twig like a wand. "Is it weird that his timing makes me want to scream and kiss him simultaneously?"

"Extremely," Sage said, popping a sugar quill into her mouth. "But valid."

Katie looked at me. "You think whatever's buried here is connected to the book?"

"I don't think," I said. "I know."

Cassian sighed through his nose. "Brilliant."

"You say that like you didn't already expect it," Maddie muttered, falling into step beside him.

"I did," he said. "It's just exhausting being right all the time."

"Oh my god," she groaned, elbowing him. "I'm putting a hex on your eyebrows if you keep acting like you invented logic."

He smirked. "Just the cursed subset of it."

Behind us, Sage snorted. "Can you two save the flirting for when we're not walking on top of a magical grave?"

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Wait—flirting?"

"Thank you," I said, shooting Maddie a look. "Finally someone says it."

"Oh please," Maddie said, shrugging. "If he didn't show up every time my blood pressure spiked, I might not be so emotionally compromised."

Cassian grinned. "I aim to be both useful and distracting."

"That's the problem," Sage mumbled.

Katie gave me a sideways glance. "So... when were you planning to tell me about the part where Blaise was walking around with cursed rune magic in his backpack?"

I winced, "You were MIA when that happened."

Katie frowned slightly as we both sighed heavily into the memory.

"She did tell us," Maddie jumped in quickly. "We just got the early screening."

Sage nodded. "Yeah, and we didn't want to stress you out while you were emotionally spiraling."

I rolled my eyes. "Anyway," I said, voice softening, "I wanted to tell you sooner. I just... didn't know how."

Katie's teasing dropped. Her brow furrowed slightly.

"He had it during detention," I said. "Dropped it when I shoved him. Tried to fight me for it, but I magic-pinned him until he calmed down. Then he just... froze. Like I'd broken whatever spell was holding him together."

Katie narrowed her eyes. "Did he change?"

I nodded, slower this time. "It was like... like he came up for air. Just for a second. Like he could see himself. And he didn't like what he saw."

Cassian's voice cut in, steady but quiet. "I've seen that before. Rune-binding like this... it can heighten everything. Emotions. Fear. Paranoia. Makes it easier to lose yourself."

Katie frowned, "So you think someone gave it to him knowing what it would do?"

"I know someone did," I said. "His parents gave it to him to study half way through last year, he's had it sense."

"That is starting to connect some dots," Maddie muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"And now it's yours," she murmured. "And it's tied to the burial runes. And the grave. And... you—us."

Cassian tilted his head. "There's more to it than that."

"Of course there is," Sage said. "There's always more. With this group, it's never just trauma — it's trauma with sequels."

Maddie looped her arm through Cassian's. "At least we have our own hot curse expert now."

Cassian blinked. "Am I a hot curse expert?"

"You're my hot curse expert," she said sweetly.

Katie blinked at them. "This is aggressively gross and weirdly comforting."

"Get used to it," I muttered, clutching the cursed book. "We're only halfway into the nightmare."

We rounded the corner into the corridor near the moving staircases — a familiar stretch of stone that should've felt safe by now.

It didn't.

Because he was standing there, waiting.

Blaise.

Arms crossed. Face unreadable.

We all froze.

He stepped forward slowly, gaze locked on me. "Can I talk to you?"

My mouth opened. Closed. I glanced around.

No one moved.

Sage cocked an eyebrow.

Cassian tilted his head just slightly, like he was already deciding how many bones he'd have to break if this turned south.

Katie stepped subtly closer.

"No," I said quietly. "You can talk here."

Blaise hesitated. Jaw tight.

But then he nodded.

"Alright." He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes flicking down to my sword charm around my neck and then down to my left hand where the ruby shimmered.

He looked tired. Not in the usual smug Slytherin-too-cool-to-care way — actually tired. Like whatever anger had been holding him together had finally burned itself out.

"I'm not here to excuse anything," he said, voice low. "I can't tell you it was all the book. Because it wasn't. Some of it... most of it... was me."

The corridor went silent.

Behind me, Maddie and Sage exchanged a look. Katie's arms were folded, chin lifted. Cassian's jaw flexed.

"But I didn't mean to go that far," Blaise continued. "I didn't mean to lash out like that. Not at you. Not that personally. I was angry — but I wasn't supposed to destroy everything."

My stomach twisted. The words sounded honest, but that didn't make them easier.

"I didn't know the letter would do that to you," he added, quieter now. "I didn't know it would leave a mark."

"It didn't just leave a mark," I said, finally stepping forward. "It carved itself into my skin. Into my magic. You didn't send a breakup letter, Blaise — you nearly unmade me."

His throat bobbed. "I know."

I exhaled, sharp and uneven.

"I'm not saying this to fix anything," he added. "I just... I needed you to know I'm not proud of what I became."

I looked over my shoulder at the others — still standing firm, still silent.

But this part?

I had to hear the rest of it alone.

I stepped to the side. "Walk with me."

His eyebrows lifted. But he followed.

We moved a few paces down the corridor, not far. Just far enough that Maddie, Sage, Katie, and Cassian couldn't hear — but could see.

Always watching. Just in case.

Blaise shoved one hand through his hair. "You were right. The book... it amplified things. Twisted them. But it didn't invent them. I was already bitter. Already hurt. I didn't deal with it. I let it rot."

I didn't interrupt.

He looked at me, just once. "You don't owe me forgiveness."

"I know," I said.

A pause.

Then he almost smiled — bitter and half-cracked. "You're still scarily good at making me feel like an idiot."

"You're still scarily good at being one."

That earned a breath of a laugh. Real. Brief.

We stood there for a second longer.

Then he cleared his throat, glancing at the hallway behind me. "We've got detention tonight. I'll see you there? Considering you've skipped some since...well..."

"You better show up," I nodded, turning back toward the others. "Because if I have to serve it alone, I will curse your eyebrows off."

He gave a low hum. "Fair."

And just like that, he stepped away.

Didn't wait for a goodbye. Didn't expect one.

I rejoined the others in silence, their gazes flicking between me and the direction he'd gone.

Maddie was the first to speak. "So... that was Blaise. With feelings."

Sage shuddered. "Didn't like it. Felt cursed."

Cassian looked at me. "You alright?"

"Not even a little," I said. "But I've got cursed runes and a detention partner with emotional whiplash, so we'll call that Wednesday."

Katie gave me the smallest smile. "You handled that better than I would've."

"Don't worry," I said, "there's still time for me to throw something at him."

By the time we made it back to the common room, my brain felt like static, and my mouth tasted like regret and dirt.

Cassian took one look at me as we crossed the threshold, then wordlessly conjured a cushion, sat down, and started pulling out parchment like this was a study session instead of a looming magical crisis.

Maddie dropped into the chair beside him with an unnecessarily dramatic sigh. "Okay, Professor Broody, break it down. Why does it feel like we just walked across a giant cursed nerve ending?"

Cassian didn't look up. "Because we did."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's comforting."

"It's residual magic," he said. "Old. Rage-born. Most likely from the Fourth Year incident."

Sage flopped sideways across the sofa like she was prepping for a nap. "Please tell me 'rage-born' is a metaphor."

"No," Cassian replied. "It's a classification."

I blinked. "What, like types of curses?"

"More like the emotional charge behind magic. Spells born out of grief, vengeance, fear — they imprint. Especially if they happen on sacred or magically volatile ground."

"And the maze was volatile," Katie said slowly.

"And we were volatile," I added.

Sage raised a hand like she was in class. "So... the Third Task was basically a magical emotional crime scene?"

"Yes," Cassian said. "With lingering trauma graffiti. What you felt in the forest wasn't just spell residue — it was active. Which means it's found something new to anchor to."

Maddie straightened slightly. "You're saying the forest runes... found a host?"

Cassian looked at me.

Didn't say it.

But everyone followed his gaze.

I stared back. "Oh, come on."

"Adrien," Katie said gently. "You felt it before any of us. You've been reacting to it. The runes flare every time you're close to that area."

Maddie gave me a sideways look. "Also, not to be dramatic, but you almost burned down your bed again last week."

Sage snorted. "You glow in the dark now, babe. That's not normal."

"I'm aware," I snapped, tugging my sleeves lower over my arms.

Cassian finally looked up. "It doesn't mean the magic is evil. Just unstable. Dangerous. It's bonded to you, not attacking you."

"Oh, good," I muttered. "I'm bonded to ancient rage magic. I feel so much better."

"Wait, wait, wait," Maddie said, waving her hand. "If the runes are bonded to Adrien, what exactly do they want? Like... is she cursed? Chosen? Haunted? All of the above?"

Rowan appeared in the doorway just in time to hear that last part. "Wait—who's haunted now?"

Sage waved him in. "It's fine, we're just discussing how Adrien might be possessed by ancient trauma."

"Oh, that again," Rowan said dryly, walking over. "Let me guess. Cassian gave it a name and a magical taxonomy."

Cassian nodded solemnly. "Technically, it's a reactive imprint born of emotionally charged spellcasting in a high-pressure ritual site. Possibly tied to bloodline trauma."

Rowan blinked. "Yep. Sounds about right."

Katie rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So what do we do with that?"

Cassian leaned back, arms crossed. "Short-term? We keep Adrien out of emotionally volatile magic zones."

Sage raised her hand again. "Do boys count as emotionally volatile magic zones?"

"Yes," Maddie said immediately. "Especially the ones who glower in Latin."

Rowan raised a hand. "Okay but I glower in English."

"And French," Sage added. "You glowered at me last week when I spilled coffee on your broom."

"You hexed my broom," Rowan corrected. "It screamed for thirty minutes."

Cassian cleared his throat. "Can we focus?"

Katie looked at me. "So the forest, the grave, the letter — they're all part of it?"

"Not just part of it," I said. "They're echoes. And now they're echoing through me."

Everyone went quiet for a beat.

Then Sage threw an arm around my shoulder. "Well. If you start levitating and speaking in tongues, we'll call an exorcist."

"Or a stylist," Maddie added. "Because if you're going to go dark magic host mode, your hair has to look fantastic."

I decided to humor Detention that night.

The classroom was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of parchment being sorted and the soft squeak of enchanted quills reorganizing themselves behind me. The light was low — not dark enough to strain the eyes, but enough to make the shadows feel like they had ears.

I didn't turn when the door opened.

Didn't need to.

"I'm on time," Blaise said, which was his version of an apology.

"Don't strain yourself," I muttered, finishing a restoration charm over a torn page.

He stepped inside, the door creaking closed behind him. His footsteps were slower than usual — deliberate, almost.

He didn't speak again until he was beside me, sorting through a stack of cursed detainment slips like they offended him personally.

"So," he said finally. "This is weird, right?"

I glanced at him.

He shrugged. "Being here. With you. After everything."

I arched my brow. "The whole trying to curse me via blackmail envelope thing?"

"I was thinking more about the kiss that got me punched in the face."

I snorted before I could help it. "You forced that kiss, Blaise."

"I know," he said, surprisingly fast. "And I deserved the punch."

A pause.

He looked over at me, tapping the bridge of his nose. "Healing nicely, by the way. Didn't know you had a right hook like that."

I tried not to smile.

Failed.

"Would've broken it properly if I hadn't been caught off guard," I said, flicking my wand toward another stack of papers.

His mouth twitched. "Yeah.."

My fingers stilled on the edge of the desk.

He noticed. Of course he did.

His eyes drifted down — not subtly — to the band on my left hand. The same one now catching the soft glow of the candlelight as I brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You still wear it," he said quietly.

"I'm still engaged," I said.

"I know." His voice dropped lower. "Doesn't mean it doesn't still wreck me."

I froze.

Just for a breath.

He leaned his back against the desk beside mine, staring ahead, jaw tight.

"I saw the way he looks at you," he said. "Like you're a miracle he can't believe said yes."

I didn't say anything.

Because I knew that look too.

"I never looked at you like that," Blaise said.

My heart stuttered at his tone, my lips automatically pressed themselves into a thin line of acknowledgement, "That's true."

"I looked at you like you were mine," he said. "Like something I could hold and keep and maybe fix."

"That's not love, Blaise."

"I know," he said again. "But it felt like it."

I let the silence stretch, heavy and humming.

"And now?" I asked.

He laughed, hollow and low. "Now I look at you and see everything I blew apart."

My breath caught. I hated how easy it was to fall into this rhythm with him. How honest we could be when it was already too late.

He turned slightly, his eyes darker than I remembered.

"Do you think we were doomed from the start?" he asked.

"I think," I said carefully, "we were fire and gasoline in a paper world."

"That sounds hot," he muttered.

I cracked a smile. "It was hot."

His eyes flicked to my mouth.

And then to the ring again.

"I miss you," he said. Simple. Honest. A gut punch.

Despite myself, my heart skipped a literal beat. "I know."

"I miss the version of me that didn't ruin everything."

I turned to him fully. "That version still exists, Blaise. You just buried him under anger and ego and a cursed book."

He looked at me then — really looked.

And I hated the ache that rose in my chest. Because this was the Blaise I remembered. The one who kissed me like secrets. Who held me like I was something precious. Who broke me, yes — but only after he made me feel like magic.

"Can I ask something?" he tilted his head, watching me work.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded.

"Was it always going to be Fred?"

I hesitated.

Because the truth? Wasn't simple.

"No," I said, leaning against the table and staring ahead in thought before I locked eyes with him. "It wasn't always him. But once it was... I couldn't imagine it being anyone else."

He closed his eyes for a second. Like he was steadying himself.

Then he nodded once, slow and sharp. "I needed to hear that."

I reached for the next stack of detainment forms, fingers grazing the edge.

"But I did love you," I said quietly. "That part was real. Even if the ending wasn't."

He smiled — sad and slow.

"Yeah," he said. "I know that too."

We worked in silence for a little while after that.

Not angry. Not bitter.

Just... heavy with everything we were and weren't anymore.

And maybe, for the first time since it all went to hell, we weren't enemies.

We weren't together. We were just two people sitting in the ruins of something that almost mattered forever.