Chapter 4: Hogwarts

Descending the steep, winding gravel path along the hillside, Professor Inkwood led the first-year students, their hurried steps echoing through the crisp air. Some of the children, struggling to match the professor's brisk pace, exerted extra effort to keep up.

Professor Inkwood embodied a no-nonsense demeanour, forged through a life marked by danger and darkness. His secretive nature prevailed, a perpetual sentinel, ever vigilant of his surroundings. Even within the supposedly secure walls of Hogwarts, the world's foremost wizarding school, he never let his guard down, anticipating a threat at every turn.

Despite his slight limp which served as a reminder of past trials he had endured, Professor Inkwood exhibited unyielding determination as he effortlessly outpaced the youthful students. In his right hand, he carried a distinguished cane, adorned with a sinuous dragon motif that wound its way around the dark, polished wooden shaft, culminating in a regal hilt.

After a gruelling twenty minutes of brisk walking, their eager journey led them to the tranquil shores of an inky black lake. The setting sun bathed the glassy water in a breathtaking spectacle of shimmering reflections.

Lined up before the group were eighteen petite rowboats, each awaiting its occupants. Professor Inkwood's authoritative voice rang out, breaking the serene stillness. "Four to a boat, no more, no less!" he declared.

The first-year students obediently filed into their respective boats. Eve, Rose, and Albus settled into theirs. Just as they prepared to embark, a platinum-haired boy approached. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and inquired, "Is there any room for one more?" The trio exchanged nods, welcoming the newcomer as he gingerly took a seat beside Eve.

A round-faced boy stood trembling by the shoreline, his anxiety not going unnoticed by the observant professor. Disembarking from his own boat, Professor Inkwood strode toward the anxious child, his stern countenance mirroring his displeasure. "What's the issue? Are you scared?" he demanded, and the boy, his hands shaking, nodded in response.

Without a moment's hesitation, Professor Inkwood firmly gripped the boy by the collar of his robes and hoisted him up. With a swift yet purposeful movement, he deposited the boy into a vacant seat in one of the boats. "The only way to conquer fear is to confront it head-on, without hesitation," he declared, offering a brief yet valuable lesson.

Resuming his place in his own vessel, Professor Inkwood bellowed, "Onwards!" In response, the rowboats surged forward with an unexpected burst of speed, gliding gracefully across the mirror-like waters toward a castle perched atop a peninsula extending into the lake.

The castle appeared nothing short of majestic, its lofty towers adorned with countless glowing windows. Its sheer size seemed boundless, stretching endlessly into the distance. From this distance, and with the setting sun casting its warm hues, finer details of the castle remained elusive, shrouding it in an air of enchantment and mystery.

Eve leaned over the boat's edge, captivated by the enchanting scene unfolding before her. It was everything she had ever dreamed of when she first discovered the existence of the magical world. She realized that this would be her home for the next seven years, and the feeling was akin to winning the lottery. Overwhelmed by the surreal beauty of it all, she impulsively pinched herself to confirm that this was indeed reality.

Scorpius observed her longing gaze fixated on the castle; a subtle smile concealed beneath his arm. It was a sight to behold, one that he had heard about from his father, though the stories had never done Hogwarts justice.

In the distance, a colossal tentacle surged from the water, a monstrous appendage that seemed to stretch at least 25 feet into the sky. In a breathtaking display of power and precision, it snatched a sizeable bird right out of the sky, then vanished beneath the water's surface as swiftly as it had emerged

A resounding, collective gasp emanated from the rowboats as they floated on the water. "Worry not, my dear students; the squid poses no threat to any Hogwarts student unless provoked," Professor Inkwood's booming voice reassured them. After a serene journey across the water, they drew closer to a slender tunnel hewn into the cliff face beneath the towering castle above.

Professor Inkwood's boat took the lead, vanishing into the obscurity of the tunnel. The students' boats, as if guided by a magical force, fell into a perfectly aligned formation, their bows and sterns fitting seamlessly within the tunnel's confines. Silently, the boats glided forward, while wall-mounted torches danced in the still air, casting a warm, orange glow upon the gleaming black stone walls.

As the tunnel gradually expanded, the boats eased into a spacious underground dock. Before them, a pristine wooden pier adorned with intricate golden laurels on its posts beckoned. The cavern came to life as bright, welcoming fires, ensconced in sconces, illuminated the surroundings, filling the underground chamber with a cozy, inviting warmth.

One by one, the students and Professor Inkwood disembarked from the boats and gathered in front of a sturdy oak door. With a powerful shove, Professor Inkwood swung the door open, revealing a spiralling staircase that seemed to ascend endlessly into the sky.

"I hope you enjoyed a hearty meal on the train because you'll need every bit of that energy to climb this," he quipped, wearing a mischievous grin.

Climbing the winding spiral staircase proved to be an arduous endeavour, leaving most of the students breathless, their chests heaving as they reached the top. The group took a well-deserved pause to catch their breath, regaining their composure before venturing forward. They then moved through a courtyard adorned with elegant stone archways, each one bearing intricate carvings of various symbols and captivating scenes etched into the stonework.

At the courtyard's edge, a colossal steel-reinforced door stood as a sentinel, catching the moonlight and radiating a mesmerizing silver sheen. Professor Inkwood confidently led the way, guiding the group through this imposing entrance, their footsteps echoing as they ascended a sweeping flight of stairs. The hallway that unfolded before them was nothing short of majestic.

Eve's eyes eagerly darted in every direction, absorbing the enchanting sights around her. Her heart danced with anticipation and wonder, and an uncontrollable smile graced her lips. It was a feeling she couldn't contain; this splendid place was to be her new home. The mere thought of seven years to explore the castle and unravel the secrets of magic swelled her with an intoxicating blend of excitement and delight.

A distinct tapping noise resounded through the stone chambers, capturing Eve's attention. Professor Inkwood had rapped his cane on the solid granite floor. "Alright, first years, the ceremony is ready for us to proceed," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You will soon be sorted into your respective houses; these will become your family and home for the next seven years. Once placed, take the time to get to know your fellow housemates well, as there's no changing houses. The Sorting Hat will delve deep into your minds and select the house that suits you best. Any questions?"

Amidst the sea of expectant faces, a round-faced boy eagerly shot his hand up, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. Professor Inkwood let out a resigned sigh, thinking to himself that there always had to be one. Before he could inquire about the question, the massive doors to the Great Hall swung open. Stepping through was a short man, significantly shorter than the average fully grown person, wearing a black robe with a crisp white undercoat. A billowing cloak trailed behind him as he approached.

"Professor Flitwick, the students have been informed of what the ceremony entails. They are all yours," Professor Inkwood declared with a warm smile, handing over the reins to the diminutive yet charismatic professor.

"Alright, follow me," Professor Flitwick beckoned, taking small steps as the eager first-years trailed behind him. The entrance to the Great Hall signalled the grandeur of Hogwarts. Its enormous walls were adorned with magnificent tapestries and the majestic house crests. These walls seemed to ascend endlessly, merging seamlessly with the starry night sky painted overhead, creating the illusion of an outdoor setting. Hundreds of candles floated in the air, casting a warm and enchanting glow.

Along the walls, four ornate fireplaces were nestled, two on each side, each adorned with the proud Hogwarts house crests. At the heart of the hall, four exceedingly long tables stretched from one end to the other, each meticulously set and occupied by the entirety of the school, creating a sense of unity and anticipation that could hardly be contained.

Upon entering the Great Hall, all heads swivelled to fixate on the incoming first-year students. Eve clutched the edges of her robes, a palpable sense of being under scrutiny washing over her. Her striking purple hair stood out vividly amid the backdrop of more conventional browns, reds, blondes, and blacks. Recollections of the compliment Rose had bestowed upon her for her distinctive hair flooded her mind, igniting a surge of pride. She couldn't help but revel in the knowledge that being different was not just super cool, but also something she was genuinely proud of.

Making their way to the front of the hall, they were directed to halt by Professor Flitwick. Before them, two stools awaited, one bearing an old, weathered, and crumpled brown leather hat that had clearly seen better days, Eve mused to herself.

Stepping onto the vacant stool, Professor Flitwick unfurled a lengthy parchment and cleared his throat. "I will call your name. When I do, step forward and place the hat upon your head. Then, await the hat's decision. Once it has made its choice, return the hat to the stool and proceed to your newly assigned house table," he instructed, his voice projecting through the Great Hall. Murmurs of anticipation rippled through the first-year students as they whispered to each other, sharing their hopes and preferences for their house placement.

Eve had diligently researched each of the houses but remained uncertain about which one best represented her. Her heart secretly yearned to be placed in Gryffindor, aligning her fate with her friends who were absolutely certain that Gryffindor was their destined home.

"Celiea Adams!" Professor Flitwick's voice resounded through the Great Hall. A timid girl, her auburn hair framing a face wrought with fear, gingerly approached the stool. With trembling hands, she placed the Sorting Hat upon her head. The hat stirred to life, its worn seams shifting as it yawned. "A whole year has passed already; my, how swiftly time flies when you're as ancient as I am," the hat croaked with an aged chuckle. "I know precisely where to place you: HUFFLEPUFF!" With the hat's declaration, Celiea rose from the stool, her robes trim now adorned with the vibrant yellow of her new house.

The ceremony continued in this manner, with students approaching the stool, donning the Sorting Hat, and being assigned to one of the four houses. It was now Rose's turn.

"Rose Granger-Weasley," Professor Flitwick called. With unshakeable confidence, Rose strode up to the stool and placed the hat upon her head. The moment the hat made contact with her, it bellowed, GRYFFINDOR!" She sprang off the stool, a colossal grin illuminating her face. With a playful aim at Albus and Eve, she made her way toward her fellow Gryffindors, eventually taking a seat next to James, who had thoughtfully saved three spots in anticipation.

A few more students found their places in the various houses, including Scorpius, who was sorted into Slytherin. Next up was Albus Potter. "Albus Potter," Professor Flitwick called, and an eerie silence enveloped the hall. All present held their breath, waiting with bated anticipation for the Sorting Hat's decision.

Albus donned the hat with an anxious expression, his deepest hope being sorted into Gryffindor alongside his brother and cousin. The hat twitched and hummed, its voice a whisper in Albus's ear. "Very peculiar, indeed. I wasn't expecting this from you, Mr. Potter," it murmured. "I sense your desire to follow in your father's footsteps, but that's not your sole path. Albus, you have a unique story to tell, an important role to play, one that extends beyond others' expectations." Albus's face contorted with confusion, baffled by the hat's cryptic words. Moments passed, the hat deep in thought, until, with a resounding announcement, it declared, "SLYTHERIN."

Audible gasps rippled through the hall. Harry Potter's son being placed in Slytherin was a startling surprise, catching everyone, students and teachers alike, completely off guard. The sight was especially unexpected for James, who stood up from his seat, his gaze fixed on his brother walking toward the opposite end of the hall, a vivid shade of green shimmering off Albus's robes. Dumbfounded, he sank back into his seat, feeling a comforting arm from his cousin circling his shoulder.

"The Sorting Hat is never wrong, and Albus is in Slytherin for a reason. This will be a positive journey for him, don't worry, James," Rose reassured him in a soft, reassuring tone. "He can't be in Slytherin. We were meant to be together," he whispered softly, a deep sadness evident in his words.

Once the commotion had settled, Professor Flitwick resumed the ceremony. After a while, the final student to be sorted was Evelyn Warren.

Evelyn walked towards the Sorting Hat with a knot of anxiety churning in her stomach. Her fingers trembled as she placed the hat upon her head, mirroring the actions of all the students before her. To her surprise, the hat felt larger than expected, covering her eyes completely, plunging her into darkness—or so she thought. In reality, once Eve placed the hat upon her head, it fit her perfectly.

Her eyes glazed over in a ghostly, otherworldly white as she found herself once more transported to that enigmatic void, the magic within the hat seamlessly intertwining with Eve's own mysterious energy.

A deafening silence engulfed her, leaving her ears void of any sound, a phenomenon she found eerily strange. As she tentatively turned her head to the side, an unsettling realization washed over her. The hat had vanished from her head, and she could see nothing, engulfed in an inky darkness. Fear gripped her like cold, clawing hands dragging her down, forcing her to collapse to her knees. Her heart hammered violently in her chest, her breaths coming in sporadic, feeble gasps.

Overwhelmed, she began to whimper, her voice trembling as she called out for her mother, a desperate attempt to find solace in a world of darkness. Tears flowed, their assault on her pale complexion draining her of all colour, replaced by the pallor of fear.

Eve remained in this desolate state for an indeterminate stretch of time. It could have been days; she had lost all sense of time. She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, for whether they were open or closed, everything remained cloaked in impenetrable blackness. Closing her eyes served as a feeble coping mechanism to navigate her unfathomable predicament.

This time, she found solace in the fact that she hadn't been visited by any presence within the void. It brought a semblance of relief, enabling her to begin gathering her thoughts. She knew she had to find a way out of this eerie emptiness. "But how?" she mumbled to herself, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Recalling a spell, she had read about in one of her books, a spell that might be the key to her escape, she hesitated at first, fearing that a mistake could worsen her predicament. But she steeled herself, determined to give it a try. With her white wooden wand in hand, she pointed it upward and with a slight, determined flick, she uttered, "Lumos."

The tip of her wand emitted a faintly brighter white glow than the wand itself, but to Eve's dismay, it failed to cast any light. It seemed the void had greedily absorbed every trace of illumination, leaving her unable to see beyond the mere inches from the tip of her wand.

In the midst of her despondent thoughts, a familiar presence enveloped her, interrupting her sense of isolation. It was not the kind of presence that instilled fear; this one felt warm and nurturing, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

From the shadows of the void, a distant male voice spoke, "We don't have much time before she finds you." His voice seemed to shift around Eve as he continued urgently, "I've locked us into our own time. It won't be long before she senses your magic and comes for you."

With a tone of concern, he added, his voice now closer than before, "You shouldn't have come here. You are her only means of escape from this place. If she gets a hold of your wand, she will unleash devastation upon your world."

Eve's voice trembled as she stuttered, her nerves betraying her, "I... I was brought here against my will. Everything went black after I placed a magical hat upon my head."

A chilly silence hung for a moment before he spoke again, "It appears that powerful magical items react to your magic, transporting your mind to this realm. I can't be entirely certain, but I will ponder this further."

"The woman who spoke to me before, who is she, and what is this place?" Eve had a plethora of questions, but given the limited time at hand, she knew she had to focus on the most crucial ones.

The man contemplated for a moment; his eyes fixed on the frightened child. He recognized the overwhelming fear that gripped her and knew it was the right time to share what he knew about Hera.

"Her name is Hera; she's been imprisoned in this place for nearly 1,500 years. She cannot harm me since I'm trapped here as well, but she can only affect you mentally—her physical touch won't cause you harm." He paused; his gaze fixed on Eve.

Taking a deep breath, he continued, "She was incarcerated here for a heinous crime against Muggles. I won't go into the gruesome details, but she is a wicked woman, the epitome of the darkest aspects of humanity."

Eve wrapped her arms around herself, a bone-chilling cold coursing down her spine as the man continued to speak.

"This place is known as the Void," the voice said, now seemingly right beside her, yet without a visible form. "It's a prison where time itself comes to die—a sort of limbo. Those who defy the will of time find themselves trapped here for all eternity."

The word "eternity" left Eve gasping for breath. She couldn't bear the thought of being confined to this place forever, with her entire life of wondrous experiences and unexplored adventures ahead of her.

He released a heavy, regretful sigh, yearning for his words to be untrue. "I cannot send you back this time, little one," he admitted with a heavy heart, "my magic is drained. You'll have to find your own way out of here. You mentioned a hat was placed upon your head, and that's how you arrived here, correct?" He pondered for a moment, searching for an answer to his own question.

"I believe the only way out is to remove the hat," he continued, "you must somehow reach into the mortal realm and take off the hat. How to do that, I do not know."

Eve trembled, feeling utterly overwhelmed. While the man's intentions sounded good, an unsettling unease still lingered in her mind.

"She's here," the previously hurried male voice turned icy and composed.

An evil presence began to envelop Eve, creeping in like a sinister mist, shrouding everything it touched in its malevolent aura. Driven by reflex, Eve attempted to move, but she found herself immobilized by fear, rooted to the spot.

"Child, I knew you would return. Oh, how long I have been waiting for you," a deep, ominous voice rumbled, injecting its malevolent words into Eve's ears, seeding fear within her mind.

Paralyzed in place, Eve clung to a mantra, her eyes tightly shut as she repeated, "This isn't real. She can't hurt me. Remove the hat; that's all you have to do." She spoke these words in her mind, seeking solace in her own determination.

The cold, malevolent voice seeped from the heart of the darkness, demanding, "Child, come closer; let me get a good look at you." Eve remained rooted to the ground, several agonizing minutes passing without any response. The voice inched closer and closer, its tone eerily contemplative, "Yes, I can see the resemblance after all these years. You look just like her." Amid those words, a trace of compassion could be discerned, albeit barely.

Eve was paralyzed by fear, unable to muster the courage to move. All she yearned for was an end to this nightmarish ordeal. The once-kind male voice had fallen silent ever since Hera's arrival. A haunting thought crept into her mind – had he vanished? Though his presence still lingered within the darkness, she felt a profound sense of isolation. She needed his help more than ever, but the bleak realization had dawned on her: he had declared himself of no use to her.

With the realization that she was utterly alone and aid wouldn't arrive, Eve mustered the courage to try and lift the hat. She gingerly placed her hands near the top of her head, where the hat in the mortal realm would be, and made an attempt to lift it.

However, to her growing panic, nothing occurred. She tried again, her heart racing, but the hat remained unyielding, leaving her in a state of despair.

A sinister cackle rang through the void, forcing Eve to cover her ears. "Child, my dear child, you can't escape me. I am your past, present, and future. Our fates are eternally entwined," the voice declared as its owner emerged from the darkness and entered Eve's field of view.

Standing before her was a young woman, her face breathtaking with piercing blue eyes and long, raven-black hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. The rest of her body, however, appeared pale and grim, revealing the occasional bone, with tattered remnants of tissue clinging to it. She was unsettling to behold, but those entrancing eyes held a captivating allure, drawing you in like a siren's call.

Hera extended her half-bone, half-tissue hand toward Eve's face, her bony finger delicately wiping away a tear. "There, there, Andromeda, Mother is here," she whispered with an unsettling intimacy, her intense eyes locked onto Eve's. It was then that Eve realized she had been crying.

Hera's tone abruptly shifted as she continued, "I can sense the magic that envelops you in the mortal plane, almost as if I could reach out and touch it as it emanates from you.

"Will you share it with me?" a malice grin forming on her face

Her head tilted to the side, a disconcerting sound of bones snapping filling the air, while her eyes widened and took on a brighter shade of blue.

Eve found herself unable to tear her gaze away from those piercing blue eyes. She sensed her mind being invaded, and as the intrusion advanced, she screamed in agony. It was as though a thousand needles were piercing her, yet her skin remained unblemished. She quivered on the ground, clutching her head as the pain intensified.

"Get out, get out!" Her screams echoed through the void as she convulsed on the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head, every muscle in her body locking up as she writhed beneath the monstrous presence.

"There it is... your free will," Hera murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She delved into Eve's mind, her mental presence coiling around Eve's free will, seizing control of it as though it were her own.

Eve's screams came to an abrupt halt, though her internal turmoil only intensified. She felt her mind tearing apart as her pleas for control fell on deaf ears. While terror welled up in her eyes, her exterior remained eerily calm and composed. Eve's hand slipped into her own pocket, fingers searching for her wand.

Summoning every ounce of her willpower, Eve made a desperate attempt to expel Hera from her mind. She pushed with all her might, a sense of urgency taking hold. Unexpectedly, everything began to reverse. Eve's hand withdrew from her pocket, and she once again clutched her head, collapsing to the floor as she had before. Hera seemed to step backward into the inky blackness, and the entire conversation with the man played out in reverse.

Eve watched the unfolding scene from a detached perspective, as if she were experiencing an out-of-body event. Her doppelgänger moved backward, retracing every action and motion that had previously occurred. As her double eventually dissolved into thin air, Eve herself was pulled by a tremendous force deeper and deeper into the unfathomable blackness.

Light flooded her eyes, instantly overwhelming her senses. Her head felt heavy and foggy, the mental struggle she had just endured having drained her of all her energy. From the depths of her memory, she heard the soothing whisper of the male voice from the void, "You are safe now." As her eyelids grew heavy and she closed them, the uncomfortable darkness returned once more.

Eve stirred and gradually regained awareness, finding herself lying in a soft white bed, cocooned in a warm duvet. Her head still throbbed from the invasion of her mind, and she noticed thick curtains surrounding her bed. Shadows danced on the curtains, cast by a nearby light source. A puzzled expression etched across her face as she whispered to herself, "What happened?"

Her contemplation was abruptly interrupted by hushed voices just beyond the curtains. The headmistress and the staff had gathered, their conversation focused on the unprecedented events that had unfolded. Headmistress McGonagall's voice carried a note of uncertainty as she remarked, "This is unprecedented. I'm at a loss as to what to do. No student has ever gone unsorted before."

Professor Inkwood interjected, his tone resolute, "To hell with the sorting. Were you not present when she spoke? Just thinking about it still sends chills down my spine. We must get to the bottom of this. I fear something ominous is afoot." The rest of the staff nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring the concern in Inkwood's words.

[Flashback]

Eve approached the stool with measured steps, gently setting the hat upon her head. She settled, her hands resting softly in her lap, her gaze fixed straight ahead, unblinking. Her eyes appeared glossed over, with a white film, a subtle detail that went unnoticed by all present.

A strange and unnerving silence descended upon the hall, unlike the hat's usual vivacious demeanour. It didn't speak or make a move; it was as if it had been stunned into silence. In response, the audience in the hall exchanged uneasy glances and whispered among themselves, as a frigid chill seemed to seep through the stonework, dimming the candles above.

A piercing, ear-shattering scream tore through the ears of everyone within a ten-foot radius of Eve. It was a blood-curdling, agonized scream, the kind one might unleash moments before impending doom. She screamed once more, her voice filled with desperation as she cried, "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Students began to shift uncomfortably in their seats, some rising and fleeing the hall in sheer terror, their faces contorted with fear.

Headmistress McGonagall took swift action to soothe the rapidly escalating panic. Descending the few steps from the head stage, she hastened her approach toward the screaming girl. However, as her eyes fell upon Eve, she was taken aback. What she saw before her was not a child, but something far more unsettling—a sinister being in disguise. Eve's face had contorted into a malevolent grin, her eyes an eerie, pure white, presenting an image that sent shivers down McGonagall's spine.

Eve's possessed mouth began to utter chilling words: "I have claimed this child as my own. Together, mother and child, we shall rise once more, and our terrifying reign shall return. The day of reckoning is upon you. No muggle or those who align with their wretched kind will be spared. Hera, the foul, shall rise once again!"

As she spoke, her body convulsed violently against the unforgiving stone floor. Professor Flitwick cast a cushioning spell to protect her from severe harm. Nearby students screamed, shielding their eyes from the disturbing sight as the small girl contorted, her limbs twisting in grotesque and unnatural ways. Minutes later, the convulsions ceased abruptly. Eve lay motionless, her body as cold as ice to the touch.

McGonagall reached out to lift the girl's head, and to her relief, her eyes met soft, familiar grey ones, no longer the solid white void that had been present moments ago. A flicker of distress crossed Eve's face as her eyelids fluttered and then closed once more.

Headmistress McGonagall dismissed all the students. Some groaned and complained, disappointed that the feast hadn't taken place, but she paid no heed to their objections. More pressing matters required her attention.

Eve was gently scooped up and hurriedly carried to the medical wing, where Madam Pomfrey was taken aback by the sight before her. She quickly ushered the child to a bed and set to work, determined to decipher the nature of the ailment that had befallen the girl.

A few exhausting hours later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the thick curtains, her expression a mix of concern and perplexity. Headmistress McGonagall awaited her with a nervous air. "What news do you have, Poppy?" she inquired.

Madam Pomfrey began to explain, "Something extraordinary has happened to this little girl, that much I can tell you. Her mind had been mangled beyond comprehension." She was interrupted by McGonagall, who prompted her to continue. "Had?"

"Yes, that's what I couldn't understand," Madam Pomfrey replied. "I can see the damage, but it's as if it's distant. I've seen this in patients who've recovered from severe mental magic after years of treatment. This little girl had her mind ripped to shreds, but somehow, it's intact and as healthy as ever." She shook her head in disbelief.

""Keep me informed if anything changes. I need to hold an urgent meeting with the staff. Thank you, Poppy. I'll be back shortly," McGonagall said, and with that, she swiftly walked away, vanishing from sight.

Madam Pomfrey, on the other hand, hesitated to tell Minerva about the second thing she had discovered within the child. She couldn't be certain whether it was a good or bad sign, so she chose to keep it to herself for the time being. While she continued to examine Eve, she felt a strange yet powerful aura emanating from the girl. It fluctuated between being slow and cold, then fast and hot, changing rapidly. As she delved deeper into this mysterious aura, she began reliving memories of her youth and experiences that hadn't happened yet. Feeling increasingly uneasy, she abruptly halted this form of examination.

Headmistress McGonagall entered the staff meeting room, and as she made her way around the table to take her seat, every pair of eyes in the room shifted onto her. Questions came flying at her in a flurry of concern.

"What happened in there?"

"Who is Hera the foul?"

"How is the child?"

"Is this a new dark witch?"

"What is to become of the school if this turns out to be real?"

The voices of the staff members merged into a cacophony, and it was impossible to pinpoint which question came from whom.

"One at a time, please!" McGonagall requested with a hint of frustration. Professor Inkwood was the first to stand. "How is the child? What news do you have of her well-being?" He promptly took his seat again, his expression stoic and unnerved by the events that had unfolded just hours ago.

"She is doing okay," McGonagall responded. "Madam Pomfrey assures me that her mind was invaded and damaged, but miraculously, she has made a complete recovery." Professor Inkwood gave an approving nod.

Professor Longbottom spoke next, his tone filled with concern. "Who is Hera the foul? Does anyone know?" His question was directed to the entire staff, prompting a thoughtful silence as they collectively pondered the matter.

Looks of confusion spread across every face at the table except one. Professor Binns, the teacher of History, floated into the centre of the table with his translucent, ghostly body partially submerged in the tabletop. He cleared his throat with a spectral cough before speaking.

"I have quickly done some research on this matter," he began. "It seems Hera the Foul, born in 535 AD, was a British royal. No more information could be gathered about her childhood, but I also found that she was a witch feared by many, especially muggles, whom she had an extreme hatred for. She birthed three children in total. The records show that one died in battle, another died of unknown causes, and the third survived her. She was believed to be dead up until now."

Professor Binns concluded his speech with a cold and matter-of-fact tone, leaving the staff to absorb this disturbing information.

The remainder of the meeting followed this pattern, with questions being asked, but only a few of them could be answered with conviction. This continued until the small hours of the morning.

On the same day, a few staff members decided to pay Eve a visit in the hospital wing. As they walked in a small group, they could sense the fear that had gripped the castle. Most of the students had parents or loved ones who had fought in the last wizarding war, and Eve's words from the previous day had stirred up those thoughts once again in the students.

[End flashback]

The curtains surrounding Eve's bed opened, and in stepped members of the faculty: Professor Inkwood, Professor Flitwick, Headmistress McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey. Seeing that Eve was awake, a soft voice spoke, "How are you, my dear? You did give us an awful fright," said McGonagall.

Pausing for a few moments to gather herself, Eve spoke quietly, her throat still sore from the past day's ordeal. "I think I'm okay. My throat is sore, and my head is aching, but other than that, I feel okay." Three smiling faces looked at her. "What happened to me?" she asked quickly before anyone else could talk. A nervous look befell the teachers, and they glanced at one another before McGonagall spoke.

"When the hat was placed upon your head, you were possessed by an evil witch. We do not know how, but she spoke some chilling words—some very chilling words indeed," she paused, thinking back to what the possessed girl had said. "Do you remember anything at all?" Inkwood intervened.

A fearful look spread onto Eve's face, her eyes welling up with involuntary tears. She nodded in response to the question, attempting to hide her face. Persisting in his line of questioning, Inkwood asked, "Could you tell us what you remember? It's important to get a picture of events." Eve again nodded, taking a deep gulp of air and calming her nerves. She began to recount the events that transpired inside the void.

Once she had finished telling her story, she was met with speechless teachers, who stared at her with blank expressions. "You poor child, I would not wish that upon my worst enemy," Inkwood stated.

The other two staff members nodded in agreement, while McGonagall took Eve's hand in hers as she knelt down beside the bed. "You are safe now," she whispered. "Get some rest. I will visit you again tomorrow. There is something we must discuss."

Eve managed to get some much-needed rest, her pain easing as the hours drifted by. Her mind never wandered too far from safety during her dreams, for she feared Hera's capture. She could feel Hera's lingering presence inside her mind, which felt vile and unclean.

The next day arrived with the morning sunshine streaming through the tall glass windows. Eve awoke feeling much better; her headache had stopped pounding, and the constant nausea had passed.

She sat on the bed for a few minutes, reflecting on her memories, one of which puzzled her. She couldn't stop thinking about the memory of seeing herself move in reverse, repeating all the previous actions she had already taken. It felt unnatural and impossible, but then she had to laugh at herself. Just the other day, she had witnessed a fold-out table turn into a room divider; reversing time suddenly seemed more than plausible.

Her musing was interrupted by the creaking of the infirmary door, and in stepped McGonagall, holding an old, tattered hat. As she approached, she laid the hat down upon the bed and sat beside Eve. "Good morning, dear. I hope you rested well," she said. Eve nodded in response and said, "I feel much better today. I am sorry that I ruined your sorting ceremony. Am I in trouble?" She looked down at the floor, crossing her feet over one another as they dangled off the bed.

"Heavens no, you are not in trouble. What happened to you is not your fault, and you are lucky to be alive. We will get to the bottom of this. You are safe here at Hogwarts, that much I can promise you," McGonagall reassured her. She looked away slightly, her concern evident.

Eve glanced at the old hat, now lying motionless on the white linen, and asked, "Will I be sorted again?"

"With much deliberation between me and my staff, we have decided to go ahead with the sorting, but with a change due to your circumstances," McGonagall said.

"My circumstances?" Eve asked, her face showing confusion.

"We are hesitant to place the hat upon your head again, and without the hat on your head, it cannot sort you into your house. However, we have devised a plan on how to work around that," she paused before continuing.

"If I have your permission, I would need a part of your essence. It is painless, I promise. With that essence, I will place it inside a dummy, and the hat will recognize the dummy as yourself, thereby accurately placing you into your house."

Eve thought for a few moments before nodding and saying, "I agree." With a smile, McGonagall removed her wand from her sleeve. It was chestnut in colour with an intricate handle. She placed the wand against Eve's chest, just above her heart, before uttering a spell.

"Celem Culem Ashemenda," she spoke clearly. A thin golden strand began to draw out from Eve's chest. As McGonagall's wand moved back, it reverberated, floating freely in the air. The strand had a wisp-like texture, and something inside it shifted and sparkled in the sunlight. McGonagall didn't notice, but Eve looked curiously toward the strand as it lowered, entering a small dummy with purple hair.

Eve couldn't help but release a small chuckle when she laid eyes on the dummy. It bore an uncanny resemblance to her, albeit rigid and immobile. As the golden strand made its way into the dummy, it suddenly came to life, its gaze darting in all directions. Eventually, its eyes met Eve's, and they locked onto each other for a few fleeting moments. The experience felt surreal, evoking memories of her out-of-body episode in the void.

McGonagall addressed the dummy and said, "Sit, little one. This will not take long." The dummy stiffened like a board, awaiting further instructions.

The sorting hat was gently placed upon the dummy's head, and it immediately came to life. "What do we have here?" It paused, leaving a suspenseful silence in its wake. "Someone extremely interesting indeed. My, oh my, there's so much raw potential waiting to be untapped and unleashed."

The hat hesitated for a few seconds before continuing, "Brave, but not recklessly so. Smart, but not an overachiever. Loyal, but not blindly so..." Another pause, and the hat's tone grew more serious. "I sense great ambition, a drive to achieve your goals at any cost. You're unsure about many things, including your true self, the one hidden deep inside."

A more extended silence hung in the air before the hat declared, "You are destined for great things. Many remarkable wizards and witches have emerged from this house, and you will join them. SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted out its decision with joyous excitement, wiggling happily atop the dummy's head.

Eve's gaze darted between the Sorting Hat, Professor McGonagall, and back to the hat itself, her face an expression of sheer astonishment. "Slytherin," she murmured to herself, her voice tinged with disbelief. As she uttered the name of her newfound house, her robes hanging nearby spontaneously transformed with a lush shade of green. With an exuberant hop off her bed, Eve hurried to try them on, her face lit up with unbridled joy. It was a moment that exuded a sense of belonging. In Slytherin, she would be among friends, including Albus and Scorpius. Eve couldn't wait to reunite with them, eager to share the news of her new house.

Once the dummy had been disassembled and its enchantment dispelled, Eve and Headmistress McGonagall began their journey towards the dungeons, where the Slytherin common room was situated.

They descended a grand staircase, its steps crafted from polished black marble, into a spacious, circular chamber. This room was adorned with pillars of green marble adorned with silver-coiled serpents, supporting the domed ceiling. Etched into the circular stone floor was a detailed depiction of Salazar Slytherin, but the true centrepiece of the chamber was an imposing alabaster wall flanked by two braziers, their flames burning an eerie green.

Headmistress McGonagall raised her hand towards the wall and softly muttered the word "WakeySnakey." She couldn't help but share a sideways glance with Eve, who couldn't contain her amusement at the whimsical password.

With the incantation spoken, the edge of the circular motif on the ground began to transform, taking the shape of a stone snake. This serpent gracefully slithered up the wall, arching at the top, and then gracefully descended back into the circle's edge, crafting an enchanting doorway that swung open.

Headmistress McGonagall gestured, indicating for Eve to enter first. Before Eve crossed the threshold, she offered some reassuring words, "You've missed a few days of classes, but they've mainly been introductory. Your schedule is posted on the bulletin board inside the common room. If you need any further assistance, I'm sure your fellow first-years can lend a hand." With that, she spun around and ascended the black marble steps, disappearing around a corner.

Eve turned her attention to a spiral staircase leading deeper into the dungeons. She descended it slowly and steadily, taking in deep breaths of air as her thoughts wandered through a spectrum of possibilities. Was she walking into a lion's den or a safe haven?