The embers in the hearth had dimmed to a faint glow, casting long shadows across the dormitory walls. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the sound of Carlos' unsteady breathing. He sat hunched on the edge of his bed, his head still buried in his hands, while Lando remained beside him, unwavering.

After what felt like an eternity, Carlos straightened, wiping his face with his sleeve. His hands trembled, but he didn't try to hide them. The cursed veins were stark against his skin, their faint pulsing a grim reminder of what was happening to him.

Lando shifted closer, his voice soft but steady. "Can I... can I see the rest?"

Carlos froze, his jaw tightening. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of refusal, his walls instinctively rising again. But when he glanced at Lando, the raw concern in his friend's eyes softened his resolve. Slowly, he nodded.

Without a word, Lando moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing him. Carlos hesitated, then began to remove his shirt. His movements were mechanical, his shoulders tense as if bracing for judgment. When the fabric fell away, Lando's breath caught.

The scars ran deeper than he had imagined, each one a jagged line across Carlos' chest, ribs, and back. Most were silver, the ghosts of battles long past, while others were angry and red, barely healed. The cursed veins snaked across his torso, their unnatural black tendrils branching out like roots seeking to claim him entirely.

Lando's hand hovered in the air for a moment before he asked, "Can I...?"

Carlos gave a small nod, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Lando's fingers were gentle as they traced one of the older scars along Carlos' shoulder. It was long and deep, curving toward his collarbone. "This one... when?"

"Fourth year," Carlos murmured. His voice was flat, detached, but there was a tremor beneath the surface.

There were several horrific scars, yet there were some, faded enough that Lando almost missed them. It was barely the length of his finger tip. "This...?"

Carlos froze, but to Lando's surprise the corner of his lip curved up for a moment. "That... that was Last year, actually. From Oscar. He doesn't know he left a mark."

Lando swallowed hard and moved to another scar, this one across his ribs, still raw and angry. "And this?"

"Last Summer."

The weight of those words hit Lando like a physical blow. He tried to keep his hands steady as he moved to another mark, this one smaller but still vicious. "This one?"

"Third year."

The pattern was becoming painfully clear. Lando's fingers brushed a particularly jagged scar that ran from his hip to his side. "And this?"

Carlos hesitated, his jaw tightening. "...Fifth year."

Lando's heart ached with every answer. Each scar was a timestamp, a reminder of how long Carlos had been fighting- alone. He finally pulled his hand back, his voice shaking. "Carlos... how have you been living like this? For so long?"

He let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "I just do. I don't have a choice."

"You do now," Lando said firmly. "You have me."

Carlos' eyes flicked up to meet his, something fragile and uncertain in his expression. "No, Landito. Knowing when I got them is one thing, but if you knew... if you knew where they came from..." He trailed off, his voice breaking.

Lando reached out, gripping his shoulder gently. "I don't care where they came from. I care about you. I just... I want to understand, Carlos. I want to help."

Carlos exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping. "Some things you can't fix," he said quietly. "You can't heal what's already broken."

"You're not broken," Lando said, his voice firm but laced with emotion. "You're hurt, yes, but you're still here. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

For a moment, he didn't respond. Then, his lips quirked into the faintest, saddest smile. "Maybe."

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation settling over them. Lando didn't press for more, sensing that Carlos had given all he could for the night. Instead, he stayed beside him, his presence a quiet reassurance.

When the fire finally died out, Lando reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed and draped it over Carlos' shoulders. "You should get some rest," he said softly.

Carlos nodded, though his gaze lingered on the floor. As Lando stood to leave, his voice stopped him.

"Lando?"

"Yeah?"

"I- one day. I do want to tell you, juro por Dios que te lo diré. Just... can you promise me, can- you swear you won't think of me any differently? No matter what?" He whispered.

Lando gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I would never think of you differently, no matter what it is, I swear it to you."

"Gracias."

"Buenas noches, Chili." As Lando climbed into his own bed, he couldn't shake the image of Carlos' scars from his mind. But more than that, he couldn't shake the determination growing in his chest. Whatever it took, he would help him carry this burden. He wasn't going to let him face it alone anymore.

Oscar was in his element. The Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson had turned into a lively duel practice session, and he thrived under the adrenaline-fueled focus it demanded. His wand moved in fluid arcs, deflecting hexes and casting counter-charms with precision. Around him, his friends laughed and cheered each other on, the camaraderie filling the room with an infectious energy.

As the lesson ended and students began filing out, Oscar lingered, chatting animatedly with a few classmates about their technique. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this lighthearted.

He was halfway down the corridor when he spotted Lando coming around the corner. At first, he almost didn't recognize him- Lando was hunched over slightly, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Lando?" Oscar called, quickening his pace to catch up. "What's going on? You look like you've been hit with a Sleepwalker Hex."

Lando paused, looking startled for a moment before his expression smoothed into something neutral. "It's nothing. I'm all good, mate."

"You don't look 'all good.'" Oscar's tone was skeptical, but not unkind. He studied him more closely, noting the tension in his shoulders and the faint redness around his eyes. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not about me," he admitted quietly. "It's Carlos."

Oscar frowned, his posture straightening. "What about him?"

"He's... he's been dealing with a lot. More than I realised." Lando hesitated, as though choosing his words carefully. "I think you should check on him. He's not in a good place right now."

Oscar blinked in surprise. "Me? Are you sure that's a good idea? He barely tolerates me on the best of days."

Lando gave a weak smile. "He'll listen to you. You've got a way of... pushing through his defences when it counts."

Oscar raised an eyebrow, but he didn't argue. "Alright, I'll go. Any idea where he is?"

"He's probably at the tree," Lando said, his voice quieter now. "You know the one."

Oscar nodded, already turning to leave. "I'll go find him."

The old oak tree stood near the edge of the grounds, its sprawling branches casting a wide shadow over the soft grass below. It was a familiar spot, one Oscar had come to associate with Carlos over time. It wasn't the first time he'd found him there, tucked away from the bustling noise of the castle.

Sure enough, he was there, sitting with his back against the trunk, his legs stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back, eyes half-closed as though he were trying to find some semblance of peace. But even from a distance, Oscar could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched as if bracing against an unseen weight.

"Hola amigo," O said as he approached, his tone casual but not unkind.

"¿Quién carajo..?" Carlos cracked one eye open, his expression unimpressed. "What are you doing here?"

"You can't go around greeting people like that, you're asking for trouble. Lando sent me," Oscar replied, plopping down on the grass beside him without waiting for an invitation. "Said you were 'dealing with a lot.'"

Carlos snorted softly. "Of course, he did. Cabrón."

They sat in silence for a moment, the breeze rustling the leaves above them. Oscar glanced sideways at Carlos, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the faint lines of strain etched into his face.

"Look," Oscar said eventually, his voice quieter now. "I know I'm not exactly your favourite person, but... if something's going on, you can talk to me."

Carlos didn't respond immediately. Instead, he picked at a blade of grass, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "You want to know what happened?" he asked after a long pause.

"Yeah," Oscar said simply.

Carlos hesitated, his fingers tightening around the grass. "Lando found out about... some things. Stuff I've been hiding."

Oscar frowned. "Like what?"

He shot him a sharp look. "Nothing you don't already know."

The memory hit Oscar like a jinx- pulling Carlos out of the Shrieking Shack, his Glamour slipping just enough to reveal the scars. He had only seen the faint outline of a few, but he knew that under the spell, he was covered. He swallowed. "He saw the scars?"

Carlos nodded, his jaw tightening. "Sí. All of them."

Oscar let out a low breath. "How'd he take it?"

Carlos laughed bitterly. "Better than I expected, worse than I hoped."

"That's vague as hell," Oscar said, deadpan.

Carlos huffed a quiet laugh despite himself, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's complicated." He paused, his tone softening. "He's trying to help, but he doesn't get it. He can't. And now he's dragged you into this too."

"Hey, I offered," Oscar said, shrugging.

Carlos looked at him, something unreadable flickered in his eyes. "Why do you care?"

Oscar leaned back against the tree, folding his arms. "Because I've been where you are. Maybe not the same situation, but... I know what it's like to feel like the world's against you. And I know how much it sucks to deal with that alone."

Carlos didn't respond, but his expression shifted, the hardness in his eyes softening just slightly.

"If you don't want to talk about it, fine," Oscar said. "But don't push Lando away again. He's on your side, even if he's a pain in the ass about it."

Carlos let out a soft huff of laughter despite himself. "You've got a way with words, you know that?"

"It's a gift," Oscar said with a smirk. "But seriously, mate. Don't shut him out. Don't shut me out, either. You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

Carlos smiled- a small, fleeting thing, but genuine. "Gracias," he said quietly.

Oscar nodded. "Anytime."

They sat in silence for a while, the unspoken understanding between them more powerful than any words could be.