The doors of the Chamber of Secrets closed silently, as if the stones themselves remembered every heir who dared to cross them. Aurelian left, trying not to make as much noise as possible, the echo of his boots resounding in the damp tunnels that led him back to the hidden corridors of the castle.
He had spent hours reviewing the manuscripts with Nythoros' help, diagrams of spells in Parseltongue, formulas that seemed written with the intention of hiding secrets even within the language of snakes. His mind kept thinking about the possibilities when he finally managed to decipher all the information.
As he climbed up a passageway that led to one of the little-used corridors on the first floor, he brushed the dust off his clothes with a wave of his hand. The night was silent, interrupted only by the distant conversations of the paintings.
A few meters away, moving in the opposite direction, Quirinus Quirrell appeared. He walked calmly, unlike the teacher most people saw in class. His eyes rose and met hers.
The air tensed.
Quirrell stopped in his tracks. A spark flashed across his pupils, though his face remained expressionless.
"Mr. Gaunt," he said in a calm, overly measured voice, "How curious to find you in the corridors at this hour."
Aurelian, still breathing heavily from his exit from the Chamber, held his gaze. His instincts screamed at him to leave immediately.
"Professor Quirrell," he replied, bowing his head slightly with sufficient courtesy, "Hogwarts is full of curiosities at any time of day... or night."
The silence between them lingered, broken only by the crackling of a nearby torch. Inside Quirrell, a much darker and more intelligent consciousness watched him with fascination. Voldemort could feel his son's magic permeating the air, like a scent impossible to ignore.
A faint chill ran through Aurelian, though he did not show it on his face. There was something in that gaze that put him on alert, that mixture of recognition and danger he always felt in his father's presence.
"You shouldn't be wandering around these parts of the castle," Quirrell added, though his tone did not sound like a warning.
Aurelian held his gaze, weighing each word.
"And yet here we both are, professor."
For the first time, Quirrell's mouth curved into a slight smile, though his eyes remained as cold as steel.
"They say you have... talent, Mr. Gaunt," he murmured softly, as if probing a secret. "Your teachers don't hide their praise. Your victory in France... has been the talk of the town."
Aurelian didn't respond immediately. He knew that the man was sizing him up, word by word.
"Rumors tend to exaggerate, professor," he finally replied, his voice neutral. "Tournaments are nothing more than exhibitions. True power is demonstrated elsewhere."
He bowed his head, a spark of approval flashing in his eyes. It was Voldemort looking at him, and inside he felt that strange emotion again, pride—pride in his son? The feeling irritated him, but he couldn't hide it.
"A clever answer," Quirrell replied, taking a step closer, though without completely invading his personal space. "Tell me, Mr. Gaunt, do you believe that power should be hidden behind the walls of a school? Or should it seek its own path, beyond these chains that adults call education?"
"Power," he replied calmly, "is not hidden. It is cultivated in silence until the right moment comes. The moment when one is able to show what one truly is."
The hallway was filled with a heavy silence. Quirrell watched him with the same gaze as a predator recognizing its prey.
Deep down, Voldemort smiled.
"Cunning. Cautious. My son... yet so different from me."
Quirrell cleared his throat softly and took half a step back, regaining his professorial mask.
"You are absolutely right... he is too talented to waste."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow slightly, without lowering his guard.
"Then I won't waste it, professor."
An exchange of glances sealed that conversation like an undeclared duel. Finally, Quirrell turned to continue on his way, his voice echoing in a barely audible whisper.
"We will meet again, Mr. Gaunt."
Aurelian followed him with his gaze until the figure disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. Only then did he take a deep breath. He had faced many things in his short life, but that presence... that look... was unlike anything else.
The following days passed between his duties at Hogwarts and the long hours he secretly spent in the Chamber's hidden library. Aurelian immersed himself in ancient books with a concentration bordering on obsession, grappling with writings that were almost impossible to decipher, runes worn away by centuries, and formulas that seemed to contradict all modern magical theory.
Finally, after nights of repetition, of whispering in Parseltongue that wore out his throat, he understood. The revelation stunned him.
"It's not just a language..." he thought, running his fingers over a yellowed page. "It's a catalyst, a conduit that's not limited to communicating with snakes, it connects us with magic itself."
He first experimented with a simple cut on his arm. The words in Parseltongue flowed from his tongue in a serpentine chant, and the wound closed with a pale green glow, faster than he had ever seen before. It was not a spell learned at Hogwarts, it was not the work of some potion, it was the raw magic of his blood, obeying the language that had been left to him as a legacy.
But the most shocking part came later, when he tried to channel a common spell in a different way. He muttered Lumos in Parseltongue, and the wand burned with blinding intensity, a pure white light that illuminated the entire chamber as if he had summoned the sun itself.
He closed his eyes, feeling the vibration in his chest, his magical strength multiplied, coursing through every fiber of his being. He could... enhance any spell. Parseltongue was not just a language. It was a key to unlocking the deepest gates of magic.
A deep, serpentine laugh echoed behind him.
"Impressive..." said Nythoros, his voice deep, echoing among the stones. "You have finally understood what Salazar wanted to leave to his heir. The language of snakes not only allows you to communicate with us... it speaks with magic."
The basilisk slithered a little closer, its eyes watching him intently.
"Salazar would be proud, little heir. You have achieved what generations of your lineage ended up forgetting."
Aurelian was silent for a few seconds, looking at the wand in his hand and the faint glow that still surrounded it. He felt great satisfaction, but also a weight; the knowledge he had acquired was not something he could share with anyone else, except perhaps Hestia and Flora.
"This changes everything..." he whispered, more to himself than to the basilisk.
Nythoros bowed his gigantic head in a gesture that seemed almost like a reverence.
"And you've barely scratched the surface."
He closed the book carefully, a barely perceptible smile forming on his face. Salazar's legacy was not a chain... it was a path to a power far greater than he had imagined.
The silence in Aurelian's room was comfortable, almost homely. Hestia and Flora lay beside him, each embracing him from one side, enjoying the calm they had grown accustomed to calling their own.
"I want to show you something," he said quietly.
The twins looked at him curiously, their faces lit by the faint glow of nearby candles. Aurelian took his wand, held it calmly, and uttered a single word in Parseltongue:
"Lumos."
Immediately, the room was flooded with white light, much brighter and purer than any ordinary spell could produce. The glow reflected in the twins' dark eyes, and they opened their mouths in surprise.
Aurelian smiled when he saw their expressions.
"I've learned something new. If I cast spells in Parseltongue, the magic becomes stronger... not just healing spells, but any kind of spell."
Hestia looked at him proudly.
"You're incredible, Aurelian... every day you achieve something that others can only imagine."
Flora, unable to contain herself, kissed him on the cheek and then moved on to his lips, warmly. Hestia followed suit immediately, not wanting to be left behind, and they both hugged him, whispering almost in unison.
"We're so happy for you..."
Aurelian smiled at the warmth of their words and quickly returned the gesture. He kissed them both tenderly, enjoying the moment in silence before speaking.
"I'm really happy," he said softly. Then, after a few seconds of hesitation, he added, "I was thinking... How would you feel about going to Hogsmeade together next weekend? On a appointment."
The twins looked at him with shining eyes, almost incredulous, not expecting to hear those words from his mouth. They threw themselves into his arms, laughing with that mixture of sweetness and affection that characterized them.
"Of course!" they replied together, hugging him even tighter. "Nothing would make us happier."
The weekend arrived faster than Aurelian had expected. The cold of autumn bathed the air at Hogwarts as he, Hestia, and Flora walked arm in arm toward Hogsmeade, crossing the path that connected the castle to the village. The two walked beside him, and the most curious thing was their faces, which gave off a different feeling. They no longer felt excessive jealousy when he greeted someone else, because deep down they knew that their place in Aurelian's heart was unshakeable.
The first stop was Honeydukes, the candy store. The twins couldn't resist filling a small bag with every flavor of jelly beans and mint chocolates. Aurelian, smiling at their childish expressions as they tasted the candies that exploded in their mouths, bought some for Cedric and the Weasleys, thinking of giving them as gifts later.
On their way out, they ran into Cedric Diggory, accompanied by a couple of friends from Hufflepuff.
"Aurelian!" he greeted him enthusiastically, shaking his hand. "Ready to see me dominate the Quidditch matches this year?" he said jokingly.
"I always am," Aurelian replied amusedly with a slight smile.
Cedric noticed the Carrows nearby and respectfully bowed his head to them. Hestia and Flora were still clinging to Aurelian, but they no longer reacted with hostility. They simply returned his greeting with a brief gesture.
Then they stopped by the Three Broomsticks, where Mrs. Rosmerta served them three jugs of slightly warm pumpkin juice. They sat at a secluded table, the twins sipping their drinks while Aurelian settled between them, observing the warm and bustling atmosphere of the place. It was at that moment that the Weasley twins found them.
"Look at him! The French champion!" Fred exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder.
"You still sign autographs, right?" George added with a sly smile.
Aurelian laughed softly.
"If I ever sell my name, you'll be the first to take advantage of it."
The Carrows narrowed their eyes, then relaxed when they saw that Aurelian was paying them no more attention than necessary. Surprisingly, Flora even commented in a calm voice.
"You already have enough autographs."
Fred and George pretended to be offended, but they said goodbye with laughter, leaving the trio to continue their date.
Later, they walked through the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, stopping at Dervish and Banges, where Aurelian examined magical artifacts with a critical eye. He bought a small clock that marked the phases of the moon, thinking it might be useful for future research. Hestia and Flora watched him with fascination, whispering about how meticulous he was, even when choosing a simple object.
Finally, as evening fell, they returned to the outskirts of the village. They stopped at a spot from which they could see Hogwarts in the distance, its towers silhouetted against the orange sunset sky. Hestia rested her head on Aurelian's shoulder, while Flora settled herself on his other side, wrapping her arms around him.
"Today was perfect," Flora murmured contentedly.
"It's only the beginning," said Hestia, looking him in the eyes. "Wherever you are, we will always go with you."
He didn't answer. He simply hugged them both tighter, enjoying the warmth that surrounded him. There was something about that moment that made him think that despite the secrets and dangers he would surely face, he would always have a refuge to return to.
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