"But…" Tom hesitated. "Did you notice? She said there were many dangers, but also lots of rewards. Yet for us—aside from the core you took and the two weapons—we haven't found anything else. Where are those rewards?"
"We're not the first ones to come in here! The people before us already solved all those puzzles for us… where do you think those rewards went?" Wade said irritably.
"Where?" Tom asked blankly.
"Obviously, they took them! Who goes on an expedition and just leaves the rewards behind?"
"Oh… right." Tom raised a hand and rubbed his half-bald scalp.
Wade stroked his chin, studying Tom carefully.
For some reason, he felt like Tom had gotten dumber tonight.
Suddenly, Wade gave him a suspicious look. "Don't tell me your intelligence is tied to your hair? Lose the hair, lose the brains?"
Tom actually looked a little uncertain after hearing that.
He touched his head. "Do you have any magic that can make my hair grow back?"
"Of course I do," Wade said.
"…The future Dark Lord really does know every spell," Tom muttered with a sigh.
Wade frowned slightly at that, then waved his wand.
At once, Tom felt his previously bald head return to normal—his hair even regained its original style.
He conjured a mirror and checked himself, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw that his hair was fully restored.
"Now," Wade said seriously, "tell me again—what kind of spell can fix hair?"
"Uh… since the hair that got cut off is still on the ground, a simple Reparo would've done it," Tom said, then froze in shock. "Wait—why didn't I think of that earlier?"
"So, tell me, is Reparo the kind of spell only a Dark Lord can master?" Wade asked.
"Uh…" Tom was speechless. Thinking back to what he'd just said, he broke into a cold sweat.
Is this really me? This is terrifyingly stupid!
"Forget it… your hair's back on your head, so your brilliant mind has reclaimed its throne," Wade said, patting Tom's shoulder. "Just promise me one thing—protect your hair from now on, or who knows, you might be defeated by a one-year-old baby without it!"
Tom hesitantly touched his hair. Could it really be that his intelligence was tied to it?
"Open the door already. Stop standing there like an idiot," Wade urged.
…
A moment later, the large door opened as Tom spoke Parseltongue, revealing a pitch-black entrance.
Both Wade and Tom had taken Nightingale Potion beforehand, so even in the darkness, they could see clearly.
Beyond the door was a moderately sized room, and at the far end of that room seemed to be another black door.
"There's something scattered in front of that door," Tom said.
"Let's take a look," Wade replied, lighting the surrounding braziers with his wand.
With proper light, the view was much clearer than with Nightingale potion alone.
As the two of them stepped inside one after the other, the door behind them closed again.
Neither of them found it strange.
After all, the door had closed the same way when they first entered.
When they reached the door on the opposite side, they were startled to find that what lay scattered in front of it was a human skeleton.
"This is…" Tom stared at the remains, then at a familiar piece of parchment beside them. "Is this the Gaunt woman?"
Tom raised his hand, and the parchment floated up and landed in his grasp.
Meanwhile, Wade noticed the strange, pitch-black door—and beside the skeleton, an all-too-familiar spell carved into the floor: Crucio (Cruciatus Curse!).
"Sigh…" Tom suddenly let out a heavy sigh.
"What is it?" Wade asked.
"Take a look at this," Tom said, handing him the parchment.
[There's no hope. I can't get out… The only way forward is the Unforgivable Curse. The problem is… even if I were willing to use it, I have no suitable target! I came here alone! I never thought Salazar Slytherin would leave behind such a cruel and insidious trial.
In the last letter I wrote to my brother, I invited him to explore this place with me. If he believed me and came here alone… then I've led him to his death! Though there were differences between us, I never wished for him to meet the same fate as me.
I only hope… that our final meeting isn't remembered by such an ending.
— Nokto Noctor Gaunt]
Wade silently put the parchment down. "So Slytherin ultimately betrayed this descendant of his."
Usually people say descendants betrayed their ancestor, not the other way around.
Still, Wade said it that way, and Tom understood why he would.
"All right, we need to open this door next… From the letter, we're lucky there are two of us and not just one," Tom said, taking the parchment back from Wade and reading it over again calmly.
"Yeah, the way to open this door seems obvious," Wade said, pointing at the spell carved in the floor. "Someone has to use the Cruciatus Curse, otherwise we'll end up like her—locked in here until we die."
Tom nodded. "Looks like even if the Cruciatus is cast, it only works if used on a person… You were right, Slytherin really wasn't a good man."
Even the most unpopular headmaster Black in history wouldn't force students—or his own descendants—to shoot each other with the Cruciatus Curse.
"Tom, there's no other way. You'll have to use the curse on me," Wade said with a smile.
"What?" Tom stared at Wade in shock.
By Tom's thinking, there was no way this bastard would volunteer to be the target.
Tom had even steeled himself to take one blast of Cruciatus.
But he hadn't expected Wade to offer himself willingly.
Is this still Wade? Has some restless spirit possessed him?
"Your Cruciatus won't work on me," Wade said. "But if I use the Cruciatus on you, you might die."
That was the truth.
Wade had practised Nightmare Magic for so long that his soul's strength had reached a certain level, and the Cruciatus Curse acts directly on the soul.
With Nightmare Magic protecting him, at Tom's current magical strength—even a perfectly cast Cruciatus couldn't pierce Wade's "armor."
But if Wade cast the Cruciatus with his level of power, Tom would have almost no chance of surviving.
Wade couldn't let Tom die on him during a late-night outing. That would be very inconvenient, and Tom's death would also disrupt Wade's plans for the future.
So having Tom cast the curse, and keeping both of them uninjured while clearing this place, was the outcome that best served their interests.
Tom stared at his wand and fell into thought.
After a long moment, Tom suddenly said, "Fine—then you hit me."
"Oh?" A sharp gleam flashed in Wade's eyes. "Care to tell me why?"
"I already said it, didn't I? I don't want to study Dark Magic lately—and I don't want to use it either!" Tom replied impatiently.
"Really? What a… peculiar reason, Tom. But are you absolutely sure? This might be the only chance in your entire life to actually hit me with a spell."
"Cut the nonsense. Go on, I know you well enough to trust your control over magic—I won't die! And honestly… you were waiting for me to say that first, weren't you? You'd never volunteer to be the target yourself!"
The fuck's wrong with this kid? Wade rubbed his chin.
"I know you! You don't have to keep testing me like this! I've already said it before—until my strength surpasses yours, I'll follow your lead for now! If I'm weak, then I'll bear the consequences of being weak! I might not be strong, but I still have my pride!" Tom said through clenched teeth.
Now it was certain—Tom really was showing signs of PTSD thanks to him.
In truth, Wade hadn't meant it as a test at all; he just wanted to clear the trial safely without anyone getting hurt.
Still… it would feel wrong to turn down such heartfelt insistence. Besides, Tom's emotional state was off—he probably wouldn't be able to cast a proper Cruciatus Curse anyway.
Thinking that, Wade smiled and raised his wand. "All right then. I'll start counting to three. Be ready."
Tom took a deep breath. "Go ahead. Count!"
"All right… three! Crucio!"
"Ahhhhhhhhrrrrgghhhhhh!" Tom collapsed to the floor, curling up like a shrimp, writhing in agony.
That bastard… what happened to counting to three properly?
As Tom screamed in pain, threads of red lightning began to pour out of his body and flow toward the black door.
The word "Crucio!" engraved on the floor flared red, and the black door slowly creaked open.
After a long moment, Tom finally managed to push himself up from the ground.
"I… I finally understand what it means to wish for death instead," he rasped.
"So, Tom," Wade said suddenly, "after personally experiencing Dark Magic, have you gained any new insights about it?"
Tom stayed silent for a while, then turned to glance at the skeleton nearby.
"If I told you… that I never want to use Dark Magic again, would you believe me?"
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