Snow hammered the castle again.
Not from weather—
not anymore—
but from something pulsing beneath the stone, sending tremors through the walls like the whole building was bracing against an invisible tide.
Roman noticed first.
He had drifted half-asleep in the chair beside Talora's bed, chin tucked against his chest, when the air warmed so abruptly his breath caught.
Not normal warmth.
Not spell warmth.
Living warmth.
He lifted his head sharply.
Talora's skin glowed.
Not faint, not soft—
full, golden radiance blooming beneath her collarbones and racing upward like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
The blankets curled away from her, edges lifting as if caught in a steady, gentle wind.
Roman's throat tightened.
"Tally…?"
Across the room, a crack sounded—
sharp, splitting, like ice fracturing under too much weight.
Cassian bolted upright.
Shya's bed frame had frozen solid.
Not frosted.
Frozen.
Frost had thickened across the metal bars into jagged crystalline structures that crawled down the legs and spidered across the floor in delicate, lethal patterns.
Her breath spilled from her lips in white clouds—
but not dissipating.
They drifted upward like smoke and then folded back inward, disappearing into her skin.
Cassian's heart slammed against his ribs.
"Shya—"
And then—
Her fingers twitched.
Just one—
a small movement, barely perceptible—
—but it sent a wave-pulse of cold outward, slamming into the wall so hard the lanterns flickered and the frost spread another two feet.
Roman stood so fast his chair overturned.
"What—what was that—"
But he cut himself off.
Because at the same moment the cold pulsed—
heat flared back.
Talora's glow intensified, bright enough that the golden dust on her sheets lifted into the air like tiny embers. The wooden bedposts warmed to near-burning under Roman's palm.
A pulse of warmth radiated outward, soft but forceful, and the first pulse collided with Shya's cold midway.
The air cracked.
A thin line—
barely visible—
split down the room like a seam in reality.
Cassian stumbled backward.
Roman grabbed the edge of the nearest table.
The two energies met—
pressed—
shuddered—
—and then dissolved.
Silence.
Haneera's fur rose along her spine, though she stayed unconscious.
Pandora's paws twitched, light rippling gently across her fur.
Both familiars breathed deeper, as though following an unheard rhythm.
Cassian's voice was hoarse.
"Something's happening."
Roman swallowed. "It's getting stronger."
He didn't say the other part.
It's getting dangerous.
The door banged open.
Grindelwald strode in first, steam rising faintly from his cloak. Dumbledore followed, jaw tight, wand already in hand.
Grindelwald stopped dead.
The room was split neatly—
half frost, glittering like a frozen cathedral
half warmth, glowing gold like a sanctuary at dawn
He stared.
Not in awe.
Not in fear.
In confirmation.
"It has begun," he murmured.
Dumbledore turned to him. "We must move them."
Cassian spun. "Move them where?"
Roman's voice was sharper. "You're not taking them anywhere."
Grindelwald didn't look at the boys when he answered.
"To the Chamber," he said.
The word hit the room like a dropped blade.
Cassian's eyes widened. "The—what? The Chamber? The Chamber of Secrets?"
"It is the only place in this castle," Grindelwald said, "constructed with ancient magic strong enough to withstand what they are becoming."
Dumbledore added quietly, "There are containment layers woven into the stone—older than Hogwarts itself."
"That's a dungeon," Cassian snapped. "You're taking them down there like—like prisoners."
"No," Grindelwald said, finally turning to him. "We are containing them."
Roman stepped between him and the beds, posture rigid. "They are not monsters."
"No," Grindelwald agreed softly. "They are forces. And forces must be stabilized."
Cassian's fists clenched. "You don't understand—"
"Oh, I understand perfectly," Grindelwald cut in. "You think I have not seen what happens when power exceeds its vessel? The room is cracking, boys. The castle is beginning to bend. The longer they remain in this small space, the more the world will distort around them."
A lantern above Shya's bed flickered—
then blew out.
The flame folded inward like it had been swallowed.
Cassian flinched.
Roman looked at Talora—whose body now shone with a steady glow, her chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths like the world was breathing with her.
Dumbledore lowered his wand.
"We move them," he said gently. "Now."
Cassian took a step back, shaking his head. "You can't just—just haul them off like they're dangerous objects!"
"They are dangerous," Grindelwald said bluntly. "Not by choice. But by nature."
Roman's breath shook, but he didn't move aside.
"What if moving them hurts them?" he said. "What if the change gets worse?"
"It will," Grindelwald said. "But not moving them will hurt everyone else."
Dumbledore's voice softened. "Boys… you may accompany us, but we must do this."
Cassian swallowed.
He looked at Shya.
Her fingers twitched again.
The frost crept another inch across the floor.
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening with heartbreak and fear and fury he didn't know where to put.
"Fine," he whispered. "Fine. But I'm not leaving her side."
Roman nodded.
"Me neither."
Grindelwald gave them a single, curt nod.
"Then stay close. And do not—under any circumstances—touch them when the shift begins."
"The what?" Cassian said sharply.
But Grindelwald was already conjuring floating stretchers.
Dumbledore was whispering reinforcement charms.
Snape appeared at the doorway, pale and wide-eyed, muttering stabilizing runes into the air.
The room's temperature dropped again.
Then rose.
Then dropped.
A pulse like a heartbeat shuddered through the floor.
Roman grabbed Talora's stretcher as it lifted.
Cassian took Shya's.
Grindelwald flicked his wand.
The door slammed shut behind them.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS
It was colder than Cassian remembered.
Darker.
But as they descended the winding staircase, torches along the wall ignited—
blue on one side
gold on the other
Cassian stared, breath catching.
"It's reacting to them," he whispered.
"No," Grindelwald said. "It's recognizing them."
Roman didn't take his eyes off Talora for a moment.
"Is this safe?"
"No," Grindelwald said honestly. "But it's necessary."
They reached the massive stone door—
the serpent carving pulsing faintly with ancient magic.
Dumbledore pressed his hand to the stone.
Golden runes flared where he touched.
Grindelwald placed his hand beside Dumbledore's.
Silver runes answered him.
Cassian and Roman exchanged a look—
fearful
helpless
resigned
unyielding.
The door opened.
The Chamber stretched before them:
dark
echoing
vast
serpentine carvings glistening with condensation
the massive central platform beneath the fallen basilisk's remains still stained with ancient magic
Grindelwald swept his hand.
The platform reshaped itself—
stone rising, curling upward—
forming a containment ring engraved with runes older than even Dumbledore recognized.
Cassian's breath trembled.
"You're putting them in there?"
"Yes," Grindelwald said. "And then we reinforce every wall, every stone, every breath of air with sealing magics. This is not a prison. This is protection. For them. And for the world."
"But they'll wake up alone," Cassian whispered.
"No," Dumbledore said firmly. "You will stay with them. As long as you remain on the safe side of the barrier."
Cassian swallowed hard.
Roman placed his hand on the stone, knuckles whitening.
Grindelwald stepped back.
"Begin."
Dumbledore nodded.
And the ritual of sealing, containment, and reinforcement began—
light and shadow weaving around the girls' sleeping forms.
Cassian's heart hammered.
Roman stared, rigid and silent.
Inside the Chamber, the ancient magic trembled.
Above them, Hogwarts shivered like a creature preparing for a storm.
And deep within the dream—
two cities of impossible power continued to breathe.