Chapter 18: Coming Clean
Aidan stepped out of the bathroom and returned to the compartment, where Silas and Alva were waiting for him in silence. The air between them was stiff —not tense, exactly, but heavy with the awkwardness left behind by his abrupt exit and the interrogation-like turn their conversation had taken.
Aidan returned to his seat, his expression composed once more, though a touch paler than usual. Silas looked at him first, visibly relieved, but said nothing —he knew better than to rush Aidan with an unknown factor like Alva around.
Alva offered a polite, uncertain smile and spoke up. "Feeling better?"
Aidan sat down slowly, nodding. "Much better, thanks. Sorry about that. Overexertion, I think. It's been… a long summer."
The silence that followed was heavy with things unsaid. Aidan glanced between Silas and Alva —the former, waiting patiently; the latter, hiding curiosity behind a polite facade.
He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "Look, I might as well clear the air, at least a little."
Silas perked up. "You're sure?"
"Yeah." Aidan replied. "If I plan to make the whole thing public, I may as well share something now."
He turned his gaze to Alva, level and calm, his voice carrying a quiet authority.
"You're right, Alva —the eye, the name… it's all part of something bigger. I'm not cursed, and I'm not hiding some dark artefact in my trunk, if that's what you're worried about." Aidan explained with a small, confident smile in his face.
Alva held up her hands, a bit flustered. "I didn't mean to pry, I just–"
"You did." He cut in gently. "But that's alright. I would've done the same, in your place."
She blinked, surprised by his candour.
Aidan went on. "My name wasn't always Haimadros. Silas already knows, but I am adopted. I only recently discovered the truth about my bloodline —about my birth family. What I can tell you is that House Haimadros is… old. Powerful. It disappeared from the public record a long time ago, and I'm the first to reclaim its inheritance in generations."
Silas watched Alva closely as Aidan spoke, arms folded but eyes sharp.
"I don't know everything yet." Aidan added. "But I've inherited more than a name. Certain magical changes have come with it —the eye being the most noticeable."
Alva nodded slowly. "So you're not just another smart, charming Ravenclaw."
He gave a brief, strained smile. "Something like that."
"And you're planning to make this public?" Silas asked him, more worried about his friend than anything else.
"Eventually." Aidan answered. "On my own terms. But until then, I'd appreciate it if you kept what I've said between the three of us."
There was a beat of silence. Then Alva met his eyes —red and steel, strange but steady— and gave a single, solemn nod.
"Of course." She stated. Just in case Aidan focused on her emotions for a moment, finding nothing but some warmth at being trusted with such a secret.
Aidan relaxed, now fully. Silas leaned back with a low whistle.
"Well, that's one hell of an icebreaker." The Slytherin said with the same tone he had first greeted Aidan.
"Ha, tell me about it." Aidan said between chuckles.
The group fell into silence once more —this time, a comfortable one.
*
The silence in the compartment was calm —almost drowsy— as the train rumbled steadily along the tracks. Aidan leaned back against his seat, eyes half-lidded, intent on taking a nap before they reached the castle. Silas was about to crack another joke when the lights in the carriage flickered. Once. Twice.
Then they went out.
Only their breath could be heard in the darkness. Then footsteps —faint, ethereal footsteps. Aidan's eyes snapped open. He felt it before he heard them again. Something was wrong.
From the corridor outside their compartment came a strange sound —the slow, deliberate click-clack of footsteps, out of sync, as if one leg walked softer than the other. Then... silence.
Alva stood up cautiously. "Is that a Prefect?"
"No." Aidan said, jumping from his seat. His voice was but a mere whisper, but it could be heard clearly in the deadly silence. "Do you feel it? The temperature is lowering."
The train stopped in place —or so it seemed at least, their perception of place, movement, and time failing them. The windows began to frost over, creeping tendrils of ice crawling inward.
Then came the knock.
Not on the door —on the glass of the window.
They turned to look just as a face pressed against the glass, upside down. But it was not a face. It was a mask of something once human —a mouth too wide to belong to a human, a chilling grin that reminded them of a certain demonic clown, and eyes like molten gold, staring in without blinking. For a moment, it almost looked curious.
Then the face disappeared.
And reappeared inside.
The lights stuttered back on with a snap, and standing at the far end of the corridor, where no one had been a moment before, was a woman —tall, gaunt, clad in flowing red garments that swayed like smoke. Her bronze-clad leg echoed with each step forward. The illusion shimmered and broke, revealing glimpses of her true form —hair like black fire, claws like daggers, and that unsettling, unnatural smile.
"Aidan Haimadros." She cooed, her voice a strange blend of honey and stone. "Your blood calls, little Lord. Shall we see if it is enough to claim my own?"
Alva gasped. Silas instinctively moved in front of her.
Aidan didn't have time to move before his shadow moved for him.
From the floor beneath his feet, Morgott surged forth, not in a show of simple companionship —but in full, monstrous protection. Aidan's shadow morphed into the feline outline of the creature, three times its usual size. As the Hemeris materialised in the real world, Silas and Alva stared at Aidan in shock. Morgott crouched low to the ground, placing itself between the Empusa and its master.
The creature's smile faltered. Just for a moment.
"Well." She said. "That's new."
Not wanting to give the 'woman' even a moment to act, Aidan reacted on instinct. Wand in hand, his heart thundered in his chest as his magic stirred.
"Cruor Vincula!" He exclaimed the name of the first spell he thought of, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.
The spell surged out from his wand like a whip of liquid fire, then solidified mid-air into bright blood-forged chains. They coiled tightly around the creature before could react properly, binding her arms to her sides and pinning one of her legs in place. She shrieked, not in pain, but in fury, the sound sharp and inhuman, as her illusory glamour flickered —showing the appearance she had outside the train.
Seizing the moment, Morgott struck.
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What do you think she is? Leave your comments, I want to know what you guys think and see what theories you come up with! In fact, if one of you manages to guess it correctly, I will let you choose something about the future of the story!