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As the caretaker came into view, he got a front-row seat to Mrs. Norris' state. The man stumbled back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

As the man took a step forward, Nicolás pushed Harry back, hiding him behind his own body.

"Argus!" Came Dumbledore's voice. The headmaster came with some other teachers following behind. The man walked straight to the cat, detaching her from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus. You four, too," he gestured Harry, Nicolás, Hermione, and Ron.

Lockhart stepped forward, almost too eager, considering the situation.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster—just upstairs—please feel free—"

Before walking, Nicolás made eye contact with Caelum's pale face, and even Twiggle, peeking out from his pocket-den, looked abashed, if a Bowtruckle could show that emotion, of course.

They started to walk towards Lockhart's office, McGonagall and Snape following behind.

As they entered the darkened office, Lockhart lighted up the candles, giving them clear sight of the movement on the walls, for they were covered with an array of self-portraits of Lockhart.

Nicolás' face twisted in a clear grimace, his dislike for Lockhart only increased with every move and expression from the moving photos.

Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the surface of the desk, his face very close to the cat, examining it closely. Professor McGonagall was almost as close, while Snape loomed behind them like a shadow; his eyes would stray towards the four kids every now and he looked like making an effort to repress a smile.

Lockhart's voice sounded in the closed space, in between Filch's distraught sobs. "It was definitely a curse that killed her—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her."

The poor caretaker was slumped on a chair, his face in his hands. Even Nicolás, who had heard of how horrible the man was, couldn't help but feel a sting on his own chest, imagining himself in that situation with Ember.

Nicolás' mind was also rising with ways of solving the situation. A solution that would prevent the four of them from getting expelled.

Dumbledore started to mutter words in different ancient languages, tapping Mrs. Norris' body with the tip of his wand, but nothing happened.

Looking intently at the cat's body, it sparked in Nicolás' mind like a firefly. There was something in there, in the cat, something that, had the cat been dead, Nicolás wouldn't feel.

"She's not dead," the boy declared in a resolute voice, earning inquisitive looks from everyone else.

"Not dead?!" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all—all stiff and frozen?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore looking at Nicolás. "She has been Petrified." ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, pointing at Harry.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly, "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat. "You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found—in my office—he knows I'm a—I'm a—" Filch's face worked horribly. "He knows I'm a Squib!" he finished.

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly from behind Nicolás, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch. "He saw my Kwikspell letter!"

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows. Nicolás only raised an inquisitive brow at the professor's words. It was no news how much he disliked Harry, and Nicolás highly doubted he intended to be of any help.

"Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

Nicolás, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party, not that Snape cared much.

"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight, almost excited—if a man as miserable as him could feel that emotion, that is. "Why go up to that corridor?"

"Because—because—" Harry said, his heart thumping very fast, he looked up to Nicolás.

"Because we were freezing, tired, and wanted to go to bed," Nicolás said in a steady voice.

"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his face.

"The party food had upset our stomachs; we would've thrown up. There was no point in tempting our luck," responded Nicolás, his eyes squinting.

Snape sent him the nastiest look Nicolás' received in probably his entire life.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Cardona is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if they are deprived of certain privileges until Potter is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

Nicolás muttered a 'ludicrous', rolling his eyes, as Professor McGonagall spoke up, rather sharply.

"Really, Severus, I see no reason to stop the boy from playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Nicolás could feel Dumbledore's searching look over him—accompanied by the pain in his head, as Dumbledore once more decided to use his Legilimency, if strongly, on him—, but decided to ignore it, focusing on keeping up his mental walls, and thinking of the petrified cat on the desk.

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly, quitting Nicolás' mind.

Snape looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school." Nicolás had to admit to himself that seeing more people sharing his distaste towards Lockhart was always welcomed.

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to the kids, who wasted not a second and left the office.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

They walked in silence towards the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. Nicolás planned on leaving the others there safely, before making his way to the basements.

When Nicolás was about to turn back, Harry took his hand, stopping him in the deserted hallway.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No," Nicolás said in a second. "Sometimes, telling others about your unique abilities doesn't necessarily bring you good," something Nicolás took from Dumbledore's sudden interest in getting inside his mind.

Ron seemed to agree, "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, not even in the wizarding world."

"And what was that with you?" Hermione asked, looking at Nicolás.

"Yeah, how did you know the cat wasn't dead?" Harry inquired.

Feeling a little on the spot, Nicolás breathed out a small laugh. "Well, I trust you, so... I've always had a... special connection with animals and magical creatures."

The youngsters looked at him for a further explanation, but not really having any himself, Nicolás chose to be a little cryptic for the moment. He simply smiled, ruffling Harry's permanently messy hair and telling them to sleep tight, and then walked down to his own common room.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The Hufflepuff common room was anything but silent. There were people walking around, ignoring the fact that it was already midnight. Many of them approached Nicolás to try and get any information about the attack, Nicolás even caught some hushed comments of suspects about Harry.

He decided to ignore everyone, walking straight to his shared dorm.

Cedric was the only boy in the dorm. Upon seeing Nicolás, he launched out of bed, approaching the boy.

Putting his hands on Nicolás' shoulders, he seemed to make a quick once over him, probably checking if he was hurt or something.

Laughing, Nicolás felt a little endeared by the worry. "I'm okay, you know."

"What the hell was that on the corridor?" Cedric asked.

"I have no clue. When we arrived, Mrs. Norris was already petrified. You don't think we did it, right?"

"No, of course not," Cedric said in a firm voice. "You wouldn't be able to hurt a fly, even if you wanted to."

They both chuckled softly. Turning back, toward the door, Nicolás took out his wand, doing a simple locking spell, followed by a silencing one. He took one of Cedric's hands, dragging him to his bed.

Once they were seated across from each other, Nicolás spoke.

"Look, I need to tell you something, it's pretty serious, it can't ever come out of this room."

Looking now more serious, Cedric nodded.

"I've been hearing a voice since a few days before." Cedric's eyes opened wide, and Nicolás continued speaking. "It's weird. It's like—I can understand what it says, but not really the words or the language it uses."

Cedric looked confused. "And whom do you think it is?"

"Well, that's the thing. I really don't think it is a person, but a creature. I've always had the ability to speak with them. I grew up in a magical reserve, I thought it was something everyone could do, but no, it's only some members of my family."

Cedric looked in deep thought for several minutes, looking at the wall behind Nicolás, like trying to get answers from it.

"And you can speak with any?" He finally asked.

"Yeah," Nicolás replied. "That's the point. I've always been able to. This one seems to be the only one I can't quite comprehend."

"And what do we do?" Cedric asked.

"I don't know, I'll write home. Maybe they know something."

Cedric nodded a few times. "Okay, let's sleep for now."

As both got ready to sleep, Nicolás unlocked the door once more, with a flick of his wand, finally letting their roommates enter.

Dear Nico,

Love, I don't even know where to start.

No, I've never had trouble speaking with any creature or animal; except for snakes, but that's only because they speak their own language. Some humans are born with the ability to speak Parseltongue, but they're rare.

About the Chamber of Secrets, I don't really know much. It's basically a legend, at least to everyone. We heard a about it sometimes, it was said to have been opened a few decades ago, but all the reports were erased.

I would suggest you not to approach Albus with anything related to our gift, you have your Occlumency, for which you've trained for years, put it to good use.

Also, keep a close eye on Harry's back. If people start to believe he's this 'Heir of Slytherin,' they'll start to treat him bad.

With love,

Mom

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Okay, so, Slytherin was a prejudiced arse, nothing new," Caelum said. From somewhere close, Twiggle chirped in agreement, probably eating some bug.

"Don't you think leaving a monster behind to make a 'cleanse,' is a bit extreme?" Nicolás asked.

Dorian sighed. "We're talking about purebloods, Nico, the old ones. Nothing is ever too extreme."

Nicolás cringed internally, remembering the fiasco on the Quidditch field. "How are you and Draco doing?"

Dorian sighed again, closing the book in his hands, and left it aside, on the grass.

They had spent the last two hours by the Black Lake, reading their own copies of Hogwarts: A History, trying to gather as much information as possible about the Chamber of Secrets.

"I don't know. He claims he wants to change, but he doesn't put in the effort, or at least I don't see it. I will always blame his prat of a father."

"Isn't he your godfather, though?" Cedric chimed in.

Dorian rolled his eyes, "So? It is not like I chose him, anyway."

As he lifted his head from Cedric's lap, Nicolás sighed, closing his own book.

"Okay, this has been less satisfying than I thought."

"You reckon the monster Slytherin left in the chamber is a snake?" Dorian inquired.

"Well, Mom said she's only had trouble speaking with snakes, so," Nicolás explained.

"Wait, and you don't have that gift?" Cedric asked, his eyes on Caelum.

Caelum, who had been reading his copy of the same book, with his head leaned on Dorian's shoulder, lifted his eyes.

"Not really," he shrugged. "My communication with them has always been much like Nicolás' with snakes. I only communicate with Twiggle," he said with a smile, as the small Bowtruckle climbed up his robes.

"Interesting," muttered Dorian as Caelum looked back at his book, his head once again against the other boy's shoulder.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"But you guys don't think it's Harry, right?"

Aurora and Amara looked at Nicolás for a moment, silent. "Well, you gotta admit is weird he's always where trouble is," offered Amara.

Nicolás groaned. "Don't even remind me of what happened last year." He used his fingers to massage his temples for a moment.

"We don't really think is him, you know. We just think it has something to do with him." Aurora spoke, her voice calm.

Moments later, they crossed the threshold of Greenhouse Three, with Professor Sprout already at the front of the room, waiting for the students.

The tables were already filled with pots with Wormwood planted in them. As Nicolás took his place between Cedric and Caelum—as they shared Herbology with the Gryffindors—Professor Sprout started to speak.

"Okay, class, today we'll be working with Wormwood. Can someone tell me about the Wormwood?"

To nobody's surprise, Nicolás' arm was the first to reach above. With a beaming nod from the professor, Nicolás spoke.

"The Artemisia absinthium, also known as Wormwood, is a very bitter plant used in the muggle world for its medicinal properties. The infusion of Wormwood is used in many potions, particularly old ones, such as the Draught of Living Death, the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, the Shrinking Solution, and the Potion for Dreamless Sleep. Muggles also use this plant for its appetizing properties, helping with the digestive system. Though, it's good to always remember that is poisonous in large amounts."

Professor Sprout was beaming so greatly, that Nicolás feared for a moment her smile could break out of her face.

"Perfect, Mr. Cardona! Twenty points for Hufflepuff!"

After that, they were tasked with repotting the Wormwood, utilizing fertilizer, so it could grow fastly.

"Have you spoken with Harry?" asked Nicolás in a hushed tone.

"What?" came his cousin's response.

Nicolás sighed heavily. "Do you think I should speak with Harry?" he whispered, leaning a bit on Caelum.

"Speak about what?" Caelum whispered back.

"About the voice," groaned Nicolás. "It makes no sense for him to understand it, if it's a snake. For him to be a Parselmouth."

"Well, Auntie Effie was Desi. They have registers of thousands of Parselmouths. I don't think is that improbable."

Nicolás furrowed his brow. His plant was already done, the first one in the class.

"But Uncle James wasn't... but... it could've skipped a few generations, right?" Nicolás' voice was unsure.

"Maybe," was all Caelum said.

After the class was done, around ten in the morning, they walked back to the castle for a quick shower, before lunch; Herbology never failed to leave them covered in soil.

On the walk towards the Great Hall, Cedric grabbed Nicolás arm, stopping him.

"Hey, the Quidditch team has practice at 5 o'clock. Erm—would you like to come and watch?" Cedric said, scratching the back of his neck, rosy cheeks decorating his face.

With a smile, Nicolás playfully hit Cedric's chest. "Of course, Mr. Captain. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"D'you guys think they have a chance to win the Quidditch Cup?" Nicolás asked, his eyes focused on the skill display in the field.

The six girls turned to look at him with different expressions. Willow, Aurora, and Amara all smiled; Amelia looked thoughtful, Ruby was distracted, and Lilith was doubtful.

"I think with Cedric at the head, they might come close," Amelia responded, as her gaze turned back to the field.

"I heard Harry's a damn good Seeker," Nico mentioned.

Lilith let out a raspy laugh. "Little guy's fire on the field. Flying like a fucking Billywig"

"Language," Amelia scolded her sister, slightly amused. The rest of them laughed.

"I hope to see him kicking Slytherin asses in the upcoming match," after that, he instinctively looked at Amelia and Lilith, who were Slytherins. "No offense."

"Hon, apart from Dorian, I couldn't care less about the team. Maybe losing again will dampen their inflated egos." Amelia spoke with a slight smirk.

After they laughed, Lilith made an annoyed hand gesture, rolling her eyes. "I'm considering leaving clues for the other teams. Troll-mouth has been insufferable."

"Troll-mouth?" Nicolás asked.

"Flint," Amelia responded in a disinterested tone, the others nodded.

"Oh—well, that's... certainly, one way to put it in."

"Could've put the troll from last year to cry," Ruby quipped in a dry tone, her eyes glued to her sketchbook.

"Thought I was the only one who saw the similarities—" Nicolás muttered, before a flash of yellow in the field distracted him.

Cedric had spent the last hour trying to instruct the team in a tactic he was obsessed with—having discovered it a few weeks ago.

The tactic had been created by a graduated student by the name of Murphy McNully, and it was called The Thimblerig Shuffle. Now, Nicolás didn't know much about Quidditch, but Cedric had spent hours, the last few nights, cross-legged on his bed, explaining to him the tactic in great detail.

It seemed like the three Chasers had to align themselves, playing with the Quaffle, while flying in circles around each other. Then, they would make a straight line, with one Chaser on top, attracting the attention, while another Chaser—the one who actually has the Quaffle—flies away and scores.

As Nicolás and the girls cheered for the well-done demonstration of the Thimblerig Shuffle, Cedric turned back to them, waving his arm, a smile on his face. Everyone on the team was already red-faced and sweating crazy. Alec especially looked like a tomato, perhaps it was because of how snowy his skin was.

Another thirty minutes passed with Cedric passionately giving the final instructions to the team, using a big whiteboard—only Merlin, knows where he got it from—before the team was finally dismissed and started to make their way back to the castle.

Reaching them, Nicolás threw a water bottle in Cedric's direction, and the Seeker caught it easily. He smirked.

"Nice job out there, Mr. Captain. Looked like a fruitful practice."

After swallowing a large gulp of cold water, Cedric spoke. "It was; the guys actually got it. I think this is the highest chances we've had in years of winning."

Nicolás chuckled. "Okay, there, Lion. That was just the first practice. Let's see how Slytherin vs Gryffindor plays out before making our bets, eh?"

Cedric smirked. "You really know how to keep a guy's feet planted on earth, don't you?"

"Well, I am a numbers nerd. You can ask Willow and Lilith, I take Arithmancy with them," Nicolás shrugged, pointing in the girls' direction—the six of them had poor Alec surrounded, all flushed and blushed he looked rather adorable.

"Also, can't have my guy running around riding a high horse, huh?" Nicolás joked, before he could catch his word choice.

"Oh, oh, I'm your guy now, am I not?" retorted Cedric with a largely smug smirk.

"Er—I, well—"

With a hearty laugh, Cedric wrapped an arm on Nicolás' shoulder, guiding them inside the castle.

"Man," Nicolás whined with a soft grimace, twisting like a worm out of Cedric's hold. "You are all sweaty."

Cedric barked a laugh. "What? I thought you loved hugs from your guy." He extended his arms, approaching Nicolás.

"I do! But you're stinking," Nicolás laughed. "Go and shower, I'll save you supper!"

And with that, he was off, running away from Cedric's sweaty frame. The Seeker only laughed, shaking his head, as he made his way towards the dormitories.

Cedric chuckled, once alone, but no matter the effort, he simply was unable to erase that word from his mind. Nor the memory of Nicolás' cheeks reddening.

Babe.

Bloody hell. It sounded so sweet in his mouth, and it rolled down his tongue like ichor. Heaven have mercy, he shouldn't be thinking this.

How is it possible that they met for barely over three weeks, back when they were twelve, and never saw each other—only exchanging letters weekly— until two months ago, and it feels like nothing changed, but at the same time, he knows that everything has changed.

Back when they were eleven, amidst the scorching Colombian sun, and a herd of Graphorns, all Cedric saw in Nicolás was another boy—his friend's cousin, or as Caelum chose to call him, his soulmate—, an interesting boy with very interesting information about any magical creatures.

It's funny, really, how, even back then, it only took him to know his name, to know that everything had changed.

Each week, he would wait eagerly for his weekly Nicolás letter. He knew the boy sent them to all of them, but still, somehow it felt so personal, so intimate, and so deeply satisfying, that Nicolás, even miles away, on a whole different continent, became a constant and adored presence in the back of his mind.

Another thing was that boys, at least in England, tended to be tall, but Nicolás was so delightfully short, barely reaching Cedric's chest. Amara and Aurora sometimes tried to cheer him up saying that he hadn't hit his growing spur, but Nicolás rejected the notion with grace—he never missed the opportunity to say that it was only fit for a funny guy like him to be fun-sized.

It has been almost two months ever since Nicolás arrived with Caelum at the Three Broomsticks for breakfast—the first time he saw him since they were eleven—, and now, all Cedric can see in the back of his mind, each time he closes the eyes, and each time he goes to bed, is black eyes, olive skin, and a smile so honest, that it always comes along squinted eyes.

And Cedric has never been greedy, but every time he's with Nicolás, he wishes. What he's wishing for, he isn't sure, he just... longs, for something. To know him better, and to do it now.

And now, to hear him calling him 'his guy,' something inside of Cedric probably crashed. Or maybe it imploded. Or perhaps, it simply melted away, because now, he isn't sure what follows.

Now that everything has changed.

Because all he can feel now are butterflies in his stomach, breaking havoc, akin to how the ground breaks beneath the large and heavy legs of the Graphorns.

But, oh dear, didn't they feel beautiful? Like making up for all their lost time, before taking flight, and leaving him with his greed. His greed for getting to know Nicolás more. To know him like he knows magical creatures—like his second nature.

Well, that's something for another time probably. It wasn't so appropriate to start thinking of sweet smiles, of soft words, or of warm and comforting touches when there was probably something lurking around the castle petrifying cats.

With a heavy sigh, and that stupid smile on his face, Cedrid decided the wisest thing was to merely go and take a long shower to take off all the dirt and sweat from his body. He wouldn't want to keep Nicolás waiting.

Because, like the sweet he was, Cedric knew that Nicolás was probably preparing him a 'recovery' supper. And who knows, perhaps then Nicolás will start any physical contact on his own.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Good morning, class. Today we'll be learning Evanesco, the Vanishing Spell," said Professor McGonagall with her stiff voice, at the head of her classroom. "Can someone explain how the Vanishing Spell works?"

Nicolás decided to grab his own arm, stopping it from instinctively going up. He chose to wait for a minute, expecting someone else to take the chance and answer.

Funnily enough, some classmates were looking at him, almost as if waiting for him to answer.

"I really don't want to seem like the teacher's pet," Nicolás said in a defeated whisper.

"Well, I don't think anyone else is going to answer, you know. May as well take those house points." Caelum quipped.

With a soft sigh, Nicolás finally raised his arm.

"Yes, Mr. Cardona?" Professor McGonagall said. And if his hearing faculties weren't failing him, Nico could swear she looked almost eager,

"The Vanishing Spell changes the energetic vibrational frequency of an object—or collection of small objects—, instantly. It changes their frequency into that of the non-physical, making them part of the non-being, or, if you please, it makes them vibrate in the frequency of The Everything. Or, to keep it short, it vanishes them to a place away from our physical existence."

"Thank you, Mr. Cardona. Ten points to Hufflepuff."

Then, Professor McGonagall went on to explain the Vanishing Spell, covering the way it worked, its consequences, precautions, and finally, how to perform it. These were all basics that Nicolás had already leaned back in his second year in Castelobruxo.

"Binns' been wearing his grumpy pants these days." Caelum quipped as he made his way out of the classroom with Nicolás and Cedric.

"What could get a ghost so worked up?" Cedric inquired.

"I thought ghosts wore the pants they had on when they died," Nicolás spoke. The other two stopped for a moment to look at him, before deciding to ignore his comment and continue their discussion.

"Apparently, according to my sources, someone—and by someone, I mean Hermione—pressed him to speak of the Chamber of Secrets. Nothing important anyway, we already read it."

Nicolás came to a sudden halt, causing the others to look back at him, but he was already walking towards the wall. In the wall was a small window, the interesting thing was the array of spiders, desperately going out of the castle.

"That's odd," Nicolás said.

"I've never seen them act like that," Caelum commented.

Nicolás looked ahead and back in the corridor, but nobody seemed to notice the spiders and their weirdness. "Anyway, what were you saying?"

The others smiled, returning to their previous path.

"You'll be coming to our match tomorrow, right?" Caelum asked, now much more excited.

"Of course! I'm dying to see Harry flying." At Nicolás' comment, Caelum looked at him, narrowing his eyes. After a cough and a laugh, Nico quickly added, "And my favorite cousin too!" He pinched Caelum's cheek, and quickly walked down the hall, dragging Cedric by the robes.

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