The morning sun spilled through the tall windows of the Great Hall, painting the long, polished tables in soft hues of gold. The enchanted ceiling above mirrored the crisp autumn sky outside—clear, with the occasional wisp of cloud floating by. The banners of the four houses hung proudly from the rafters, their colors glowing warmly in the morning light.

Lucas sat quietly at the Gryffindor table, the clinking of cutlery and quiet conversations filling the air around him. His fingers traced the edge of his bowl, which was still half-full with cereal he had barely touched. He couldn't shake the memories of the night before: the cold stone corridors, the adrenaline of running through the castle, and, most of all, the image of the massive Hydreigon, slumbering ominously in the room they had stumbled into. Its presence lingered in his mind like a dark shadow.

Across from him, Harry was silent as well, his green eyes distant as he toyed with a slice of toast. Even Ron, who usually attacked breakfast with the same energy he brought to Quidditch, was quieter than usual, poking at his eggs with his fork. Hermione, sitting beside Harry, had her nose buried in a book, though it was clear she was distracted, flipping the pages absentmindedly.

The night's events had rattled them all. The encounter with the Hydreigon had been close—too close. If it had woken up, if they had been a few seconds slower in escaping… Lucas shuddered at the thought. His eyes flickered toward Grover's Pokéball, clipped to his belt. His partner had been just as shaken, and Lucas had barely slept, tossing and turning with images of the dark, three-headed dragon haunting his dreams.

For a moment, none of them spoke, the weight of the previous night's events hanging heavy over the table. It was Hermione who finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper as she kept her eyes on her book.

"So… are we going to talk about what happened last night?"

Her question cut through the air, pulling the others out of their thoughts. Ron let out a groan, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter.

"What's there to talk about?" he muttered, his tone equal parts frustration and fear. "We almost got turned into a Hydreigon's midnight snack. Isn't that enough?"

Lucas glanced at Ron, feeling a surge of agreement. The terrifying sight of the sleeping Hydreigon, its three heads breathing slowly in unison, was etched into his mind. He'd seen powerful Pokémon before—back in the wilds, he and Grover had faced their share of challenges—but nothing quite like that. Hydreigon weren't just strong; they were ruthless, unpredictable.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Ron's right. That thing wasn't just some wild Pokémon. It was guarding something. Something important."

Harry, who had been silently pushing his food around his plate, looked up at this, his expression thoughtful. "Guarding something? Like what?"

"I don't know," Lucas admitted. "But Hydreigon don't just sit around in random places. They're territorial. That thing was put there for a reason."

Hermione, her brows knitted in concentration, finally closed her book and looked up, her eyes scanning the three boys before her. "Whatever it's guarding, it's got to be something dangerous. That corridor is off-limits for a reason."

"Yeah, so let's stay out of it," Ron added quickly. "I've had enough near-death experiences for one year, thanks."

But Hermione wasn't finished. Her sharp mind had been turning over the details, even while they sat in silence. "The question is… who put it there? And why?"

Lucas felt a knot form in his stomach. It was the same question that had been circling in his mind since they'd fled back to the common room. Hydreigon didn't just belong to anyone. Whoever had placed it there had to be powerful, knowledgeable. And, as much as he didn't want to admit it, Lucas had a bad feeling about who might be responsible.

The conversation hit a lull again, and the weight of the unanswered questions settled over them like a fog. For a few moments, they simply sat there, lost in their thoughts. The quiet murmur of the Great Hall continued around them, the clinking of dishes and the chatter of other students contrasting sharply with the tension at their table.

Hermione cleared her throat softly, her expression shifting to something more serious, but also oddly softer. "There's something else I wanted to mention."

Lucas and the others looked up, sensing the change in her tone. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, as if checking to make sure no one was listening in, before turning back to the group.

"Today's my birthday," she said quietly, almost hesitantly.

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment before they registered. Lucas blinked, a wave of surprise washing over him. He hadn't expected that. Neither had the others, by the looks on their faces.

"Your birthday?" Harry repeated, his voice a mixture of confusion and guilt. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Hermione shrugged, though Lucas could tell from the way she held herself that it wasn't as casual as she wanted it to seem. "It's just a birthday," she said softly. "It's not that important."

Ron, clearly feeling the weight of forgetting such an important occasion, straightened up, his face flushing red. "Blimey, Hermione! Happy birthday!" he blurted, his voice louder than necessary. A few students nearby glanced over at the commotion.

Harry quickly followed up, still looking a bit sheepish. "Yeah, happy birthday, Hermione. I'm sorry we didn't know."

Hermione waved a hand, dismissing their apologies, but Lucas could see the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. "It's fine, really. There's been a lot going on."

But Lucas could sense something else in her tone—something unspoken. Hermione might have tried to brush it off, but deep down, birthdays meant something. It was a reminder of home, of family, of a time before all the chaos and danger. Lucas could understand that feeling all too well.

Without thinking, he reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around a small, polished stone he had been carrying with him for weeks now. It wasn't much, but it was beautiful—a smooth, deep green stone with streaks of blue running through it, shimmering in the light. He had found it during his travels with Grover, in a quiet forest far from here, and for some reason, he had kept it with him all this time.

Wordlessly, he placed the stone in front of Hermione. "I don't have much," he said softly, his voice low enough that only she could hear, "but I thought you might like this. Found it while I was traveling."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she picked up the stone, turning it over in her hand. The light from the windows caught the blue streaks, making them glow softly. She smiled, a real, genuine smile, the kind that Lucas hadn't seen from her in a while.

"Lucas, this is beautiful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Ron, clearly feeling the pressure to contribute, grabbed a slice of toast from his plate and held it out toward Hermione, a sheepish grin on his face. "Er… happy birthday, Hermione. Toast?"

Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice, and even Lucas couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the gesture. But Hermione, to her credit, smiled warmly at Ron, accepting the toast with a small laugh. "Thanks, Ron. I'll treasure it forever."

The group's mood lightened after that, the tension from earlier dissipating like morning mist. They spent the next several minutes eating in a more relaxed silence, occasionally sharing a quiet laugh or exchanging knowing glances. It wasn't the grandest celebration, but in their own way, they had marked the occasion.

Lucas felt a strange warmth in his chest as they sat there. It wasn't just about Hermione's birthday—it was about the bond they were slowly forming, the unspoken connection that was growing stronger with each passing day. They had been thrown together by circumstance, but now, they were something more than just classmates. They were friends.

Later that day, after their quiet breakfast and morning classes, the group found themselves in the castle's expansive library. The familiar scent of parchment and ink filled the air, along with the faint sound of quills scratching against paper. Towering shelves, crammed with thousands of books, stretched up to the ceiling, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The occasional flicker of torchlight created small islands of warmth amid the cool, dim light of the room.

The group had huddled together at one of the long study tables in a far corner of the library, its surface covered with a haphazard stack of books. Lucas, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all sat in various stages of concentration—or in Ron's case, boredom. The subject of their research was unspoken, yet known to all of them: the mysterious passage they had discovered the night before, and the strange, slumbering Hydreigon.

Hermione, ever the diligent researcher, was already flipping through an ancient-looking tome titled The Secrets of Dark Pokémon with a focused intensity that Lucas had come to expect from her. Her brow furrowed as she skimmed the pages, eyes darting back and forth as she searched for any mention of Hydreigon or similar Pokémon used as guardians. Every so often, she would jot down a quick note, her quill scratching loudly in the silence.

Lucas, on the other hand, was scanning a different book, one focused on magical architecture. He figured that if there were hidden rooms or passages in the castle, there had to be some record of them somewhere. Hogwarts was ancient, after all, and surely some secrets had been recorded over the centuries. He flipped a page, his eyes skimming over diagrams of secret stairwells and concealed doors, but none of it seemed to match what they had seen the previous night.

Across the table, Ron let out a loud sigh and dropped his head onto his arms, clearly fed up with the quiet research. "This is hopeless," he muttered, his voice muffled by his crossed arms. "We're never going to find anything about that… that thing."

Hermione shot him a glare from over her book. "We won't if you keep complaining instead of helping," she said sharply, though there was a hint of tiredness in her tone as well. She had been going at this for hours, and even she was starting to feel the weight of it.

Harry, sitting beside Ron, remained focused on the book in front of him, though Lucas could tell from the way his eyes glazed over that he was having trouble concentrating. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong places," Harry suggested, turning a page lazily. "Maybe it's not something written down at all. Maybe whoever put that Hydreigon there didn't leave a trace."

Lucas nodded thoughtfully. "It's possible. Whoever put that thing in the third-floor corridor doesn't want anyone finding it, so they might have covered their tracks."

Neville, who had been quietly reading a smaller book on Pokémon habitats, looked up, his face pale. "Why would they put something like a Hydreigon in the school, though? That's dangerous… what if someone wandered in there by accident?"

Ron gave a half-laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Yeah, like us? They probably don't expect students to be that stupid."

Lucas's jaw tightened slightly at the memory of the encounter. "It wasn't an accident that thing was there. It was guarding something important."

Hermione shut her book with a snap, leaning back in her chair with a sigh of frustration. "But what? What could be so important that they'd risk having something as dangerous as a Hydreigon here?"

No one had an answer. The silence stretched out between them, thick with uncertainty and the feeling that they were treading in dangerous waters. Lucas could see it in the others' faces—they all knew they were dealing with something far beyond the ordinary day-to-day challenges of Hogwarts.

Feeling the weight of the conversation, Lucas shifted in his chair, glancing at the stack of books they hadn't even touched yet. They still had a long way to go, and it felt like they were no closer to understanding what they had stumbled upon.

Just as Lucas was about to suggest they take a break, Hermione's eyes suddenly widened, and she leaned forward, flipping back through the pages of the book she had just closed. "Wait a minute…" she muttered, her eyes scanning the page quickly. "This can't be right."

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter, a spark of interest flickering in his eyes. "What did you find?"

Hermione pointed to a passage in the book, her voice growing more animated as she read aloud. "It says here that some Dark Pokémon are used as guardians in ancient rituals or to protect hidden relics. And one of the Pokémon mentioned… is Hydreigon."

Lucas felt a chill run down his spine. "A hidden relic?" he repeated slowly. "Like… what?"

Hermione's eyes flicked over the text again, her face pale. "It doesn't specify. But it says the Hydreigon is only used when the object it's guarding is extremely powerful—something that could change the balance of power."

Ron sat up, looking alarmed. "Something powerful? Like what—an ancient artifact? A weapon?"

Hermione shook her head, her voice barely a whisper now. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it's dangerous."

The words hung in the air, pressing down on them like a weight. Lucas exchanged a look with Harry, who seemed just as uneasy as he was. They had stumbled onto something big—something much bigger than just an off-limits corridor or a sleeping Pokémon. And it wasn't something they could just ignore.

"I think we need to tell someone," Neville said, his voice trembling slightly. "A teacher, maybe?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, we can't. Not yet."

"Why not?" Ron asked, looking incredulous. "We nearly got eaten by that thing last night! Don't you think it's time to bring in the grown-ups?"

Lucas frowned. He understood Hermione's hesitation. Something about this whole situation didn't feel right—something about the way the Hydreigon had been placed there, hidden so deep within the school, almost like a trap waiting to be sprung. Whoever had done this clearly didn't want anyone knowing about it.

"If we tell someone now, they'll shut us down before we can figure out what's really going on," Hermione continued, her voice firm. "We need more information first. We need to know what's being hidden in that room—and why."

Harry nodded, his expression grim. "She's right. We can't go to the teachers yet. Not until we know what we're dealing with."

Ron groaned, rubbing his temples. "Brilliant. So instead of getting help, we're just going to dive headfirst into even more danger. Great plan."

"We'll be careful," Hermione said, though Lucas could hear the uncertainty in her voice. "But we need to find out what that Hydreigon is guarding."

As the group settled back into an uneasy silence, Lucas leaned back in his chair, staring at the high shelves surrounding them. They had their work cut out for them, and Lucas had a sinking feeling that whatever they were about to uncover, it was only going to get worse.

The classroom was alive with anticipation as Professor Quirrell's Battling class began. Students whispered to one another, excited to see how their Pokémon would perform today. Harry and Lucas found themselves paired up, while Draco Malfoy and Daphne Greengrass stood on the opposite side of the field.

Professor Quirrell, stammering through his instructions, said, "T-t-today, we'll be practicing team battles, where cooperation between you and your Pokémon is key. Pair up, and b-b-be ready to face off. Ahem, Mr. P-Potter, Mr. Wildfire, you'll be against Mr. Malfoy and Miss Greengrass."

Lucas glanced across the field at Daphne, sizing her up. She was cool and composed, clearly confident in her abilities. He knew this was going to be a challenge. Her Vanillite floated by her side, its frosty form emitting a cold mist. Draco, on the other hand, had already released his Snivy, a sleek and smug-looking Grass-type Pokémon, which mirrored its owner's expression perfectly.

"You ready for this?" Harry asked, pulling out his Poké Ball and releasing his Riolu. The small blue Fighting-type stood at attention, its ears perked and eyes sharp.

"Definitely," Lucas replied, summoning Grover, his trusty Treecko. The Pokémon stood tall, eyeing their opponents with determination.

Professor Quirrell waved his hand, signaling the start of the battle. "L-l-let the match begin!"

Draco wasted no time, barking out a command to Snivy. "Vine Whip, now!"

Snivy's vines shot forward with surprising speed, aiming directly at Riolu. "Dodge it, Riolu!" Harry called. Riolu leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Daphne, calm and focused, gave her own order. "Vanillite, use Icy Wind!"

A cold blast shot from Vanillite, heading straight for Grover. "Quick Attack, Grover!" Lucas shouted. The Treecko moved like a blur, dodging the gust of ice and darting towards Vanillite.

As the battle raged, Lucas noticed something different about Daphne's approach. Unlike Draco, who seemed to be attacking for the sake of it, Daphne's strategy was calculated. She waited, watching Lucas carefully, anticipating his next move. It was clear this was no ordinary battle between the two of them. This wasn't just about winning—it was about outsmarting him.

"Riolu, Counter!" Harry commanded, as Snivy's vines struck again. Riolu absorbed the hit and retaliated with a powerful punch, sending Snivy tumbling back. Draco's face twisted in frustration, his confidence shaken.

"Vanillite, Mist!" Daphne called out, covering the battlefield in a thick, chilling fog. Lucas narrowed his eyes, struggling to see through the dense mist. "Stay sharp, Grover. Use Detect!"

Grover's eyes glowed, scanning the mist for any sign of Vanillite. The fog cleared just enough for Lucas to see Vanillite preparing another Icy Wind. "Now! Quick Attack again!"

Grover sped forward, his movements almost invisible in the mist. He struck Vanillite hard, sending it floating backward. Daphne's calm demeanor faltered slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "Not bad," she muttered, a small smirk forming on her lips.

On the other side of the field, Harry and Draco's battle was heating up. "Leaf Tornado!" Draco shouted, and Snivy whipped up a swirling vortex of leaves, sending it hurtling towards Riolu.

"Riolu, Force Palm!" Harry countered. Riolu charged forward, his palm glowing with energy as he smashed through the tornado, dispersing the leaves in a dramatic display. Draco's face paled as he realized how powerful Harry's Riolu had become in such a short time.

"End it with Force Palm again!" Harry ordered, and Riolu leapt forward, landing a direct hit on Snivy. The Grass-type crumpled to the ground, unable to continue. Draco clenched his fists in anger, recalling Snivy with a scowl.

Meanwhile, Daphne called out to Vanillite, "Hail!"

The temperature dropped further as icy hail began to fall from above, pelting Grover with tiny ice crystals. Lucas gritted his teeth—this was bad. Grover wouldn't last much longer in these conditions. "Grover, Bullet Seed!"

Grover shot out a barrage of seeds, piercing through the hail and hitting Vanillite with enough force to knock it out of the sky. Daphne sighed, returning her Pokémon to its ball with a nod of respect. "You're good," she admitted, her voice cool and steady. "But next time, I'll win."

Lucas smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "Looking forward to it."

Harry and Lucas walked off the field, victorious but drained. Draco and Daphne exchanged a glance as they left, each processing the outcome of the battle in their own way. While Draco stormed off in frustration, Daphne gave Lucas one last look, a silent acknowledgment of the battle they'd fought—and the ones still to come.

As the class wrapped up, Lucas couldn't help but feel a new challenge had begun. Draco's rivalry with Harry was obvious, but his own with Daphne would be different—less hostile, more about who could outsmart the other. The thought excited him, pushing him to grow even stronger.

That night, as the castle settled into its usual quiet, the only sounds were the faint howls of distant Houndour packs and the occasional hoot of Noctowl outside the windows of Gryffindor Tower. Lucas lay in bed, staring up at the canopy, the events of the day swirling in his mind. His battle against Daphne, Harry's tense rivalry with Draco, and the haunting memory of the Hydreigon they had encountered still lingered in his thoughts. But as sleep overtook him, these thoughts began to twist and contort, forming dark visions in his mind.

Lucas found himself standing alone in a vast, desolate wasteland. The sky was a sickly shade of green, churning with ominous clouds, while the ground beneath him cracked and shifted like an unstable landscape. His heart raced, though he couldn't pinpoint why. He glanced around frantically, searching for Grover, but his Treecko was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, a chilling roar echoed through the air, shaking the ground beneath him. He whipped around to see a shadow rising from the distance, towering and monstrous. The Hydreigon. Its three heads snarled in unison, its red eyes glowing with malice. The sight of it sent shivers down Lucas's spine, freezing him in place. His mind screamed at him to move, to run, but his legs refused to cooperate.

The Hydreigon advanced, its shadowy form consuming the world around them. Each step it took caused the ground to tremble, the cracks in the earth widening until the very ground beneath Lucas's feet began to give way. He stumbled backward, trying to find solid footing, but the ground continued to crumble, leaving him teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Then, from the shadows, came another figure—larger, darker, more terrifying. It was a man, or at least the shape of one, cloaked in a dense fog. His eyes were hollow, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. Lucas couldn't make out any more details, but he felt the weight of the figure's presence. It was suffocating.

The man whispered something—something Lucas couldn't understand, but the sound of it made his blood run cold. His voice was a low, menacing hiss, filled with promises of destruction. As the words filled his ears, Lucas's vision began to blur. The world around him twisted and distorted, the Hydreigon's roars blending with the sinister whispers.

Suddenly, Lucas was no longer on solid ground. He was falling—plummeting through darkness, with no end in sight. The sensation was overwhelming, his stomach lurching as he tumbled downward. Above him, the silhouette of the Hydreigon loomed, its red eyes burning into his soul, and the man's voice grew louder, echoing in his mind.

And then, just as he thought he would be consumed by the darkness, Lucas heard a faint sound—his name, spoken softly but urgently. "Lucas… Lucas!"

His eyes snapped open, and he sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. The familiar surroundings of the Gryffindor dormitory greeted him, but it took several moments for his heart to stop racing. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and his body was tense, like he had just escaped a real battle.

"Lucas… are you okay?" came a voice from across the room. It was Harry, peering over the side of his bed, his face full of concern.

"Yeah, I…" Lucas's voice was shaky, and he ran a hand through his damp hair. "It was just a bad dream."

Harry frowned, sitting up straighter. "That didn't sound like just a bad dream. You were thrashing around a lot. What was it about?"

Lucas hesitated. He didn't want to worry Harry, especially after everything that had happened with the Hydreigon and their encounter on the third floor. "It was… nothing. Just something about the battle earlier, I think."

But Harry didn't look convinced. "If it's about the Hydreigon, you can talk about it, you know."

Lucas looked away, staring out the window where the moonlight illuminated the grounds below. He wanted to tell Harry the truth—that it wasn't just about the Hydreigon, but something more. The shadowy figure, the whispers, the sense of impending doom. But how could he explain it when he barely understood it himself?

"I'll be fine," Lucas said finally, forcing a small smile. "Really. It was just a dream."

Harry nodded, though he still seemed uneasy. "Alright. But if you need to talk about it, I'm here."

Lucas appreciated the offer, but he wasn't ready to dive into the strange visions haunting him. He lay back down, staring at the canopy above, his thoughts racing. The nightmare felt too real to brush aside. The figure in the dream wasn't just a product of his imagination—it felt like a warning.

He closed his eyes again, trying to push the lingering fear away, but sleep didn't come easily. The image of the Hydreigon, the cracking earth, and the shadowy figure with the twisted smile remained etched in his mind, refusing to fade.

As the night dragged on, Lucas tossed and turned, the weight of the dream pressing down on him. Something was coming—something dark and dangerous—and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending it was just a nightmare.