ᏕᎮᏗᏒᏦᏕ

𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗄

The unsettling encounter in the library had left Rhea shaken to her core. The figure's words echoed in her mind, haunting her every waking thought. "The curse cannot be controlled. It will consume him... and you." No matter how much she tried to push the memory aside, it clung to her, wrapping itself around her like a shroud.

Draco had noticed the change in her. Over the next few days, he'd asked her what was wrong more than once, but Rhea couldn't bring herself to tell him. The fear in his eyes when they had bound the curse still lingered in her memory. If he knew that it wasn't fully contained, if he knew that it was still lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike, it might push him back into that dark, dangerous place.

So, she kept it to herself, burying her fear deep inside, while continuing to search for answers in every spare moment.

The Room of Requirement had become their sanctuary again. They met there after classes, practicing spells and researching old magical texts. Draco was determined to gain control over the curse, and Rhea couldn't shake the feeling that the room itself was alive, shifting and changing to suit their needs, as if it sensed the urgency of their quest.

One evening, they sat on the floor in the dimly lit room, surrounded by piles of ancient books. Draco was working on a particularly complex spell, his brow furrowed in concentration as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint glow flickered from the tip of his wand, but it quickly sputtered out, leaving him scowling in frustration.

"It's no use," he muttered, tossing his wand aside and running a hand through his hair. "Every time I get close, something stops me."

Rhea glanced up from the book she was reading, her heart heavy with the weight of her secret. She wanted to tell him what she had seen, to warn him that the curse was still lurking, waiting for its moment. But every time she opened her mouth to speak, fear stopped her.

"What if... what if it's not something stopping you?" she said carefully, choosing her words with caution. "What if it's the curse itself?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought he would snap at her. But instead, he sighed, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. "I've thought about that," he admitted, his voice low. "The curse is bound, but... it's like it's still there, just beneath the surface. I can feel it sometimes, like a shadow waiting to break free."

Rhea's chest tightened. He already knew, or at least suspected, what she had been too afraid to say. The curse wasn't as bound as they had hoped. It was still inside him, still powerful, still dangerous.

"What if we're going about this the wrong way?" Rhea asked, setting the book aside and turning to face him fully. "What if binding the curse wasn't enough?"

Draco opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and intense as he looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Rhea swallowed hard, gathering her courage. "What if we need to face the curse head-on? Not just bind it, but confront it. Destroy it."

Draco stared at her, his expression unreadable. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"I don't know yet," Rhea admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But we need to figure it out. We need to find a way to not just contain the darkness, but to defeat it."

Draco was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering with a mixture of emotions. Finally, he nodded, a grim determination settling over him. "You're right. We can't keep running from this. If we don't stop it now, it'll destroy us both."

A heavy silence settled between them, the weight of their unspoken fears pressing down on them like a suffocating cloud. Rhea's mind raced with possibilities, but none of them seemed like the answer. Every spell they had tried so far had failed. Every ancient text they had read had only led them deeper into the darkness.

But then, something occurred to her.

"What about your family's magic?" Rhea asked suddenly, her voice breaking the stillness. "The Malfoy line has always been powerful—there must be something in your family's history that could help us."

Draco stiffened at the mention of his family. His relationship with his lineage was complicated, to say the least. He had spent so long trying to escape the legacy of darkness that clung to the Malfoy name, but now, it might be the only thing that could save him.

"There are old records," Draco said slowly, his voice edged with reluctance. "In the manor. My father kept them hidden, but I know where they are."

Rhea's heart raced. "Then that's where we need to go."

Draco's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "Going back to the manor... it's dangerous. The curse is tied to my family, to the history of that place. If we're not careful, it could make things worse."

Rhea reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "We have to take the risk, Draco. We're running out of time."

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor as he considered her words. Rhea could see the conflict in his eyes—the fear of returning to the place that held so many dark memories, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find the answers they needed.

Finally, he nodded. "All right. We'll go to the manor."

The journey to Malfoy Manor was tense, the air between them thick with unspoken fears. The ancient, foreboding structure loomed in the distance as they approached, its cold stone walls casting long shadows across the grounds.

Rhea had never been to the manor before, but the stories she had heard painted a grim picture. The house itself seemed alive with dark magic, as if the very walls were steeped in centuries of cruelty and power. She could feel it the moment they stepped onto the grounds—a pulse of dark energy that thrummed beneath her skin.

Draco led the way through the grand entrance, his face set in a mask of determination. The manor was eerily silent, the air thick with an oppressive weight. Rhea's heart pounded in her chest as they made their way down long, winding corridors, the flickering light from their wands casting eerie shadows on the walls.

They finally reached a heavy, ornate door at the far end of a narrow hallway. Draco hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open. Inside was a vast, dimly lit room lined with shelves of ancient scrolls and tomes. In the center of the room stood a large wooden table, its surface covered in papers and books—his father's hidden records.

"This is it," Draco said quietly, stepping into the room. "Everything my family has ever known about the curse is in here."

Rhea followed him inside, her eyes scanning the shelves, her heart racing with anticipation. Somewhere in this room was the key to defeating the curse, to freeing Draco once and for all.

But as they began to sift through the ancient texts, the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to grow darker, thicker. The air grew colder, and a low whispering sound began to fill the room, like the voices of the dead, calling to them from beyond the grave.

Rhea's hand froze over one of the books, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel it—the curse. It was here, watching them, waiting.

"Draco," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's here."

Draco looked up from the scroll he was reading, his eyes widening as the temperature in the room plummeted. The whispering grew louder, the shadows swirling around them like a living thing.

And then, from the darkness, a voice spoke—a voice that chilled Rhea to her very core.

"You cannot escape me."

Rhea's heart pounded as she turned to Draco, fear flashing in her eyes. The curse wasn't just a shadow lurking inside him. It was alive.

And it was coming for them.