There is a dense, black fog barrelling over the grounds now. It brushes against Tom's face, clammy and grasping, and he hears the goading taunts.

The offer of power is tempting - Tom would never deny that. But he is not a marked soul. He knows that now. He is not a thing of evil. The Darkness is wrong.

"You've been sadly misinformed," he snarls into the maelstrom. "Lumos!"

The light from his wand shines with a faint, flickering glow, but shine it does. He reaches down, taking Wellard's arm.

"Up you get, Wellard," he says, pulling the younger man to his feet.

They would stand against this together.