The echo of their footsteps faded as the two of them stepped away from the entrance to the Chamber of Shadows, leaving behind the foreboding door that now felt like a looming reminder of everything they weren't ready to face. Neither spoke as they walked through the silent corridors of Hogwarts, tension clinging to the air between them.

Carlos' mind raced, replaying the near-reveal in the Chamber, his heart pounding with the weight of his secret. Lando had been too close- closer than anyone had ever come to seeing the truth he kept buried beneath his carefully constructed mask. The exception being Oscar, who he grudgingly accepted that he had no choice but to reveal himself to.

"Carlos," Lando's voice broke the silence, hesitant but firm. "We'll figure this out. Together. But maybe we need some time."

Carlos didn't respond, his jaw tight as he nodded stiffly. His thoughts were spiraling, and he couldn't stop the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.

Carlos didn't know how he ended up in the forgotten classroom near the back of the castle, but he knew he couldn't go back to the dorms. He needed to escape, to be anywhere but near Lando right now. His legs felt heavy, and his chest ached as if his very soul were too exhausted to carry.

Pushing open the creaky door, he stepped inside, freezing immediately. "¿Qué carajo estás haciendo aquí?" Oscar was there, lounging with one leg propped up on the desk, idly flipping through a textbook. At the sound, Oscar glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing at the sight of Carlos' disheveled state.

"Well, well," Oscar said, his voice light but tinged with concern. "Did someone finally manage to break the unbreakable Carlos Sainz?"

Carlos' face twisted, and to Oscar's alarm, he dropped into the nearest chair, his hands shaking as they gripped the edge of the desk. His breathing was uneven, and Oscar could see the faint glint of soon to be ushed tears in his eyes.

"Whoa," Oscar said, sitting up straight. "Okay, this isn't your usual brooding. What happened?"

Carlos didn't answer immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, his other hand clenched tightly on his lap.

"He almost found out," Carlos muttered, his voice raw and strained.

Oscar frowned, leaning forward. "Found out what? Who's 'he'?"

"Lando," Carlos said, barely audible.

Oscar's eyes widened slightly, the teasing smirk he'd been wearing now completely gone. "Found out what, Carlos? You're not making any sense."

Carlos' gaze flicked to Oscar, his expression a mixture of panic and despair. "Everything," he said through gritted teeth. "What I am. What I've been hiding."

Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms. "Alright, slow down. What do you mean he 'almost found out'? Did he see something? Say something? Trip over your tail?"

Carlos shot him a glare, though it lacked its usual heat. "This isn't funny."

"I'm not trying to be," Oscar replied, his tone even. "I just need you to talk to me. You're clearly spiraling."

Carlos exhaled sharply, his hands trembling as he tried to form the words. "It's our 'little treasure hunt', as you keep calling it. It's everything. It keeps pushing and prodding and ripping apart every wall I've built. And Lando- he's right there, asking questions, noticing things. He's too smart. Too fucking observant."

Oscar studied him, his expression unreadable. "So, what? You're scared he's going to figure it out?"

"Yes!" Carlos snapped, his voice cracking. "And I can't let him. Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To us?"

O tilted his head. "You're talking like he's going to hate you for it."

"He will."

Oscar sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You don't give Lando enough credit, you know that? The guy practically worships the ground you walk on. If anyone would stick around after finding out, it's him."

"You don't understand," Carlos said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. "It's not that simple. It's not just about him accepting it. It's about me living with him knowing. I can't... I can't let him see me like that."

Osacr's sharp gaze softened for a moment. "You're carrying this like it's a mountain on your shoulders. Maybe it's time to let someone share the weight. We were having this conversation the other day, remember? You literally said you wanted to tell him some point soon."

Carlos shook his head vehemently. "I can't. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

Oscar sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Alright, then. So, what's your plan? Keep dodging him until he gives up?"

"I don't know," Carlos admitted, his voice hollow. "I don't know what to do anymore."

The morning after their disastrous venture to the Chamber, Lando found Carlos sitting under the tree in his usual spot, staring out at the rippling water. His posture was stiff, his hands gripping the cloak around him so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Chili," Lando said softly as he approached.

Carlos didn't turn around, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "What do you want, Lando?"

Lando hesitated, unsure how to approach the palpable tension between them. "I wanted to check on you. You left so suddenly earlier."

"Estoy bien," Carlos replied curtly.

Lando moved closer, sitting down beside him. "Talk to me, Carlos. Please."

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as he fought back the whirlwind of emotions inside him. "I can't."

"Why not?" Lando asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Because you wouldn't understand," Carlos said, finally turning to look at him. His eyes were filled with a mix of pain and fear, and Lando felt his heart sink.

"Try me," Lando urged. "I'm your best friend. I want to help."

Carlos shook his head, standing abruptly. "You can't help with this. Please just let me have this one thing to myself."

Lando stood as well, his frustration bubbling over. "No. I care about you, and seeing you like this- it hurts. Why won't you let me in?"

Carlos froze, his back to Lando. For a moment, it looked like he might say something, but then he shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Lando. I just... I can't."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving Lando alone by the lake, his eyes blurry, chest heavy with worry and confusion.

It was a miserable Monday morning, as most Mondays are. Students rushed to complete their foot long rolls of parchment for their homework that they had left until the last minute, others groggily trudged to the Great Hall for breakfast, tired from staying up all night, making the most of their weekend.

Carlos leaned against a cold stone pillar near an alcove, trying to steady his breathing. His mind was a storm of frustration and guilt, thoughts of Lando, the Chamber, and the near-reveal spinning out of control. He didn't hear Oscar approach until his voice cut through the din.

"You still look awful," Oscar said, leaning casually against the opposite wall. His tone was light, but his eyes betrayed concern.

Carlos shot him a glare. "Thanks for the observation, Cabrón."

Oscar crossed his arms, his expression softening. "I'm serious. You've been on edge for weeks now. It's starting to stress me out."

Carlos straightened up, his shoulders tense. "Estoy bien, Piastri. You know what that means."

But Oscar wasn't deterred. "You're not fine, we both know that. Whatever this is- whatever you're so scared of- keeping it bottled up isn't helping. You trust me enough to cry on my shoulder, but not enough to let me in? What kind of logic is that?"

Carlos clenched his fists, his temper flaring. "You've never understood!"

Oscar's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. "Then make me understand, Sainz. Talk to me. For once, stop running away from people who care about you."

"Care about me?" Carlos' voice rose, drawing a few curious glances from passing students. "You? Care about me? Funny, because last I checked, you've spent most of our time together judging me."

Oscar's face darkened, his composure slipping. "That's not fair, and you know it. I've made mistakes, yes, but so have you. I've been trying. You can't hold the past against me forever."

"Oh, I can't?" Carlos' voice dropped, cold and biting. "What about the time you told me I was nothing but trouble? That you wished I'd just disappear? Do you remember that? Because I do."

The room was dim, lit only by the flickering flames of the fireplace. They were in the dungeons, clearing up yet another of their exploded potions as punishment for causing it. They had argued, and before anyone knew it, one thing led to another and spells were being fired across the classroom. Carlos stood near the hearth, his face a mask of anger and hurt. Oscar paced in front of him, his expression just as stormy.

"You think you're the only one with problems, Sainz?" Oscar snapped, his voice echoing in the empty space. "I'm tired of cleaning up your messes. Every time you screw up, it's like the world has to stop and revolve around you."

"I never asked for your help!" Carlos shot back, his voice cracking. "You just jump in and act like you're some kind of hero. Maybe if you stopped interfering, I wouldn't be such a burden to you!"

"A burden?" Oscar laughed bitterly. "You're more than that. You're a walking disaster, and I- " He cut himself off, shaking his head.

"Go on, say it," Carlos whispered, his voice trembling. "Say what you really think of me."

Oscar hesitated, but then the words spilled out. "Sometimes, I wish you hadn't come off so lightly in that Quidditch accident. "

The silence that followed was deafening. Carlos's face crumpled, and he turned away, his hands shaking. Oscar realised too late what he'd done, but the damage was already done.

Oscar winced, the memory hitting him like a physical blow. "I didn't mean that, Carlos. I was angry and stupid. I've regretted it every day since."

Carlos' voice cracked with emotion. "But you said it. And it's not just that. It's everything- the judgment, the looks, the questions. Do you know how exhausting it is, constantly wondering if people see the real me and think I'm a monster?"

Oscar's face softened, his frustration giving way to guilt. "Carlos... I was wrong back then. And maybe I've been wrong a lot since. But I'm trying. I just- I want to help. I can't change the past, but I'm here now."

Carlos' shoulders slumped, his anger draining away as quickly as it had flared. He looked down, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know if I can trust anyone with this. Not even you."

Oscar stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. "Then don't trust me all at once. Start small. One step at a time."

Carlos didn't reply, but the tension in his posture eased slightly. For now, it was enough.

The library was quiet, the faint rustle of pages and the occasional clink of quills the only sounds. Lando sat at a desk near the restricted section, poring over an old tome. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles forming under them from his sleepless night.

Professor Alonso approached silently, placing a steaming cup of tea on the table. Lando looked up, startled.

"Professor?" he asked, confused.

Alonso gestured to the chair opposite him. "Mind if I join you?"

Lando nodded hesitantly. "Go ahead."

Alonso sat down, folding his hands on the table. "You've been working hard, Lando. Too hard, perhaps. I thought you could use a break."

He chuckled dryly, though it lacked humor. "Not much of a break if my mind is still spinning."

Alonso studied him carefully. "You're still worried about Carlos."

Lando's head shot up, his eyes wide. "Is it that obvious?"

"To anyone who knows you," Alonso replied with a small smile. "You care deeply for him, don't you?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "He's my best friend. But lately... It's like there's this wall between us. I feel like I'm losing him, and I don't know why."

Alonso sighed, his gaze drifting toward a row of ancient, leather-bound books. "Carlos has always been... complicated. Even as a child, he carried more weight than someone his age ever should have. I remember the first time I truly saw it."

Lando tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "I forget you've known him for so long."

Alonso's lips curved into a faint smile, tinged with sadness. "Oh, yes. His family and I go way back. His parents are brilliant, passionate, but... distant, in their way. They love him, but they didn't always know how to show it."

He leaned back in his chair, the distant look in his eyes suggesting he was seeing a scene from long ago.

"He couldn't have been more than eight years old," Alonso began. "His parents were hosting one of their infamous soirées- grand affairs filled with important wizards and witches, all dressed to impress. I was there as a family friend, keeping mostly to the fringes. But I noticed Carlos right away. He was standing in the corner, gripping a little wooden toy- a carved wolf his father had given him.

"At first, he looked like any child would at such a formal event: out of place and overwhelmed. But as the evening wore on, I realised something was wrong. He wasn't just shy- he was tense, his little shoulders drawn up as though bracing for a storm.

"Eventually, I wandered over to him. I knelt down and asked, 'Why aren't you playing with the other children, Carlitos?' He looked at me with those sharp eyes of his, already so guarded.

"'I don't fit with them,' he said. 'They don't understand me.'

"I remember being struck by how serious he sounded, far too serious for a boy his age. I asked him what he meant, but he just shook his head and looked down at his toy.

"'It's okay,' he said, almost to himself. 'It's better this way. People can't hurt you if they don't see you.'"

Alonso's voice softened as he returned to the present, his gaze resting on Lando. "That's the Carlos I've always known- someone who would rather hide in the shadows than risk being vulnerable. He's been carrying that fear for a long time."

Lando's heart ached as he pictured a young Carlos, alone in the corner with his toy wolf. "He's still like that," Lando murmured. "He doesn't let people see the real him. Not even me."

Alonso nodded, his expression serious. "It's not because he doesn't care about you, Lando. In fact, it's the opposite. He cares so deeply that he's terrified of losing the people he loves. To him, letting someone in means giving them the power to hurt him."

Lando's voice trembled. "But I'd never hurt him. Doesn't he know that?"

"He does, deep down," Alonso said gently. "But knowing and believing are two different things. And Carlos has spent most of his life believing that if anyone truly saw him- flaws and all- they'd walk away. He hides from the world because he fears what it will see. What he doesn't realise is that hiding only makes it lonelier."

Lando swallowed hard, his hands clenching the edge of the table. "How do I change that? How do I show him he doesn't have to be afraid of me?"

Alonso smiled softly. "You keep doing what you're doing. Be patient. Be consistent. And most importantly, be there. He's testing you in his own way, even if he doesn't realise it. Prove to him that you're not going anywhere."

Lando nodded slowly, determination flickering in his eyes. "I will. Whatever it takes, I'll prove it to him."

Alonso patted his shoulder, a rare warmth in his usually stoic demeanor. "I believe you will, Lando. And when the time comes, Carlos will believe it too."

Lando sat back, letting Alonso's words sink in. The memory was a stark reminder of the boy who had grown into the guarded young man he called his best friend. Whatever it took, Lando vowed to break through those walls- even if it meant waiting as long as Carlos needed.