Author Notes: So... Hi. It's been a while... again.

I don't have any excuses this time around. I have had the time to write, but I kept procrastinating this one. The good news is, chapter 9 is also almost finished. I should have it posted in the next few days.

Don't have much more to say. Here's chapter 8.

Chapter 8: The Heir of Hogwarts

"Carlos… Carlos, wake up!"

"Hmmmph"

I groaned and turned to the other side of the bed, snuggling my bed covers tighter. Moments later, I thought I'd hear a dreaded set of heavy footsteps make their way to my room.

…

Except I didn't.

"Carlos, come on, we'll be late for class!" I heard Connor's voice as he nudged me out of bed.

I blinked, my eyes still heavy with sleep. I wasn't at home with my family, but in the now empty Hufflepuff dormitory. The room was bathed in the soft, golden light of the morning sun filtering through the windows.

So it had all been real. The train ride, Hogwarts, the sorting…

Connor was standing beside my bed, fully dressed in his robes, looking both amused and slightly anxious.

"Late?" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Too late for you to be asking that question!" Connor grinned, tossing my robes onto my bed. "You've got about ten minutes before we need to be out that door."

"Ten minutes?" I jolted upright, the grogginess immediately evaporating as panic set in. I scrambled out of bed, tripping over my blanket in the process. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

"I tried, trust me. You sleep like a rock," Connor said, chuckling. "But seriously, hurry up. We've got Charms first, and I'd rather not make a bad impression on Professor Flitwick."

I groaned inwardly, scrambling to throw on my robes while my brain tried to catch up. My first real class at Hogwarts, and I was about to be late. "Great start, Carlos," I thought, mentally kicking myself. As I rushed to tie my shoes, Alvarus popped his head in from the doorway, his face beaming with excitement.

"You're up! Finally!" he said. "I was starting to think we'd have to drag you to class."

"Not helping, Al," I muttered, fumbling with my tie as the knot kept slipping through my fingers. "Why didn't anyone tell me how early classes started?"

"We did," Connor said, leaning against the doorway with a smirk. "You were just too busy dreaming."

"Dreaming about what?" Alvarus asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know… not being late, probably," I muttered, finally getting my tie sorted and grabbing my bag.

"Ready?" Connor asked, standing up straight.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied, though I wasn't feeling quite as confident.

We rushed out of the dormitory and into the Hufflepuff common room, which was already mostly empty save for a few students lingering by the fireplace, chatting quietly. My mind was still racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was it — my first day of actual classes at Hogwarts. I had no idea what to expect, and the thought of making a fool of myself in front of everyone made my stomach churn.

Connor led the way through the stone corridors, his confident strides a stark contrast to my hurried, clumsy pace as I tried to keep up. Alvarus, on the other hand, was bouncing around like a kid on a sugar rush, his excitement palpable.

"Can you believe it?" he exclaimed, practically skipping as we rounded a corner. "Our first class! Do you think we'll learn how to levitate things right away? Or maybe cast some kind of light spell! Oh, I can't wait to see what Professor Flitwick has in store for us!"

I barely had time to respond, too focused on not tripping over my own feet. The corridors were bustling with students, all making their way to their first classes, and the morning air was filled with a kind of nervous energy that seemed to mirror my own.

"Relax," Connor said, glancing back at me with a reassuring smile. "Flitwick's supposed to be one of the best teachers here. He's not going to bite your head off if you're a little late."

"Still," I huffed, "I'd rather not be the one to test that theory."

Naturally I had to skip breakfast in order to make it to class on time, although I was thankfully still not hungry given the stuffed meal the night before. Remember what I said about the Grand Staircase being a maze of its own? Yeah, you could say that again. We strode up and down sets of stairs and seemed to get nowhere. At one point, we could see the exact platform we had to take but didn't know which flight of stairs would get us there.

"I swear we just passed this same spot," I muttered under my breath as we came to yet another landing. The walls all looked the same: stone, portraits, and that same peculiar tapestry we'd passed at least twice now.

"Relax, Carlos," Connor said, although even he was starting to sound a little frustrated. "We'll figure it out."

"Maybe the castle's just messing with us," Alvarus chimed in, still somehow full of energy. "It's probably part of our training! You know, to see if we can handle a few surprises."

"Or it's just laughing at us for being clueless first-years," I grumbled, glancing up at the portrait nearest to me. The subject, a stout woman in a lopsided hat, looked like she was stifling a laugh.

"I think she heard you," Connor pointed out, smirking as the woman in the portrait gave a faint chuckle.

"Great," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Now even the paintings are judging us."

Just as I was about to give up hope, the stairs finally settled, leading us to the correct landing. I didn't waste any time; I sprinted ahead, with Connor and Alvarus close behind. As we burst into the Charms corridor, I could see other students filing into the classroom, and relief washed over me. At least we weren't the only ones running late.

"There!" Connor said, motioning toward the open door. "We made it."

We hurried inside, trying to act casual, but I was sure my hair was a mess and my robes looked like I'd just rolled out of bed — which, to be fair, I had. Professor Flitwick was already standing at the front of the room on top of a stack of books, a cheerful smile on his face as he waved students inside. He looked even shorter than I remembered from the night before, but there was something commanding about his presence, like he could make the entire room sit up straight with just a look.

"Good morning, students!" Professor Flitwick called out, his voice light and energetic. "Welcome to your first Charms class at Hogwarts! Please, take your seats, and we'll get started."

I quickly slid into an empty seat beside Connor, my heart still pounding from the mad dash through the castle. Alvarus plopped down on my other side, still looking bright-eyed and excited, like he couldn't wait for whatever magic we were about to learn. On the other side of the room sat Tiberius Murtlock as he talked with two other Gryffindor students I couldn't recognize from the night before. His was the only face I cared to recognize, everyone else was a stranger at this point.

I hoped he would have forgotten about me at this point.

Flitwick raised one of his hands, and gradually, the room fell into a calm quiet.

"Now, before we begin, I want to tell you that it is my utmost pleasure to have you here. Charms is one of the most versatile branches of magic, and with practice, you'll find yourselves capable of performing some truly amazing feats." He beamed at us before shifting to a more serious tone. "Now don't get too comfortable, for these classes are meant to challenge you. Even the simplest of incantations requires a degree of finesse to be executed flawlessly. Watch:"

With a flick of his wand, a record player on the other side of the room began playing part of what I instantly recognized as the iconic "Blue Danube".

To the flow of the waltz, things began slowly levitating around the class. Books, quills and pieces of parchment trailed behind one another as Professor Flitwick conducted the movement of everything, much like the maestro of an orchestra. Soon enough, items were dancing in sync with the music's increasing dynamics, reaching its grand climax as the objects swooshed the air one, two, three more times before finally settling down again. Clapping ensued, warranting a bow from Professor Flitwick.

"Wow," Alvarus whispered beside me, his eyes practically sparkling. "Did you see that? That's the kind of magic I want to learn!"

"Yeah, no kidding," I muttered, still somewhat mesmerised by what I had just seen.

Flitwick turned back to the class, a satisfied smile on his face. "Now, while we won't be jumping into waltzing quills and flying textbooks today, I promise that by the end of this year, you'll be able to control your magic with that same level of precision and grace. But first —" he flicked his wand, and the chalk on the board began writing the word Levitation in neat, elegant handwriting.

"Today, we'll start with the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa. It's a fundamental spell, but one that requires focus, control, and a clear mind. Mastering this will be key to your success in many areas of magic." His gaze swept over the class, his eyes twinkling as though he could already see who would excel and who might struggle.

I shifted in my seat, my nerves starting to bubble up again. Was I ready for this? I barely knew how to hold my wand, let alone perform a charm that made things float. My fingers tightened around my wand, and I stole a glance at Connor, who looked as calm and confident as ever, and Alvarus, who was practically bouncing in his seat.

Flitwick waved his wand once more, and a pile of feathers appeared on each of our desks. "Now, before we begin, I want to remind you that it's all about the wrist movement. A simple swish and flick." He demonstrated the motion in the air, his movements precise yet fluid. "And don't forget the incantation: Wingardium Leviosa. Nice and clear pronunciation is important. If you don't say it right, well... let's just say you won't be getting the results you want."

"Easy enough," Connor whispered, giving me a wink. "Bet you I can get mine to float first."

I shot him a look, a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "I'm not taking that bet."

Flitwick clapped his hands once more, signalling for us to begin. The class was soon filled with murmured incantations and the swish of wands. I stared at the feather in front of me, suddenly feeling the weight of the task. This was it — my first real attempt at magic.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my wand and focused on the feather. Swish and flick, I reminded myself, mimicking the motion Professor Flitwick had shown us.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. Nothing happened. The feather stayed firmly on the desk, mocking me with its stillness.

I glanced over at Connor, who was already muttering the incantation again, his wand swishing confidently through the air. His feather bobbed slightly above the desk but didn't quite float. Alvarus, meanwhile, was muttering the spell with intense concentration, but his feather seemed equally determined to stay grounded.

"Focus on the pronunciation," Professor Flitwick said, weaving between the desks with a watchful eye. "Remember: Win-gar-dee-um Levio-sa. Emphasis on the o-sa."

I swallowed, trying to calm the nervous energy swirling inside me. I tried again, my voice firmer this time. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Still nothing.

I tried to focus harder, my fingers gripping my wand a little too tightly. The feather lay there, stubbornly refusing to move, as if taunting me. Around me, I could hear the faint sounds of others starting to get it — feathers trembling, some even rising a few inches off the desks.

I stole a glance at Alvarus. He was so focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he muttered the incantation again. His feather twitched a little but didn't quite lift. Connor, on the other hand, seemed completely relaxed, giving the spell another try. His feather wobbled and floated for just a few seconds before sinking back down. Tiberius too was having a hard time with his charm, often shaking his wand in a way that seemed rather dangerous given the concerned looks of those around him.

"Come on, Carlos," I whispered to myself. "You've got this."

I took a deep breath, holding my wand in front of me. Swish and flick, right? I moved my wrist just as Professor Flitwick had shown us and spoke the words as clearly as I could.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

I felt a slight tingle in my fingers as the words left my mouth. To my surprise, the feather wobbled on the desk. For a brief second, I thought I had it, but then—

POOF!

Without warning, the feather exploded into a puff of white fluff, scattering little wisps of feather all over my desk and the surrounding area. The delicate tendrils floated in the air like snowflakes before drifting lazily to the ground.

The room went silent for a second, and then —

Laughter.

Connor was doubled over, barely able to contain himself. "Whoa! Guess you've got a little more oomph in your spell than the rest of us!" he said between laughs.

Even Alvarus couldn't help but grin, though he was trying to hide it. "I didn't know we were supposed to make things explode," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

My face burned with embarrassment as I looked at Tiberius's snarky face, clearly feeling superior at that moment. I groaned, trying to act unbothered, but the truth was, I had no idea how I'd messed up so badly. Professor Flitwick walked over, his tiny frame standing right next to me as he looked up with a knowing smile.

"Ah, Mr. Edward, it seems your wand has quite the personality," he said, his voice full of amusement but not unkind. "A strong mana infusion, no doubt. Don't worry, such things can be a bit unpredictable, especially in the hands of someone still getting used to it."

I glanced at my wand, its wooden surface now looking more like a live wire than a tool for magic. "Yeah… unpredictable is one way to put it," I mumbled.

Flitwick chuckled softly. "Your wand may be reacting to your magic, or perhaps even your emotions. It takes time to develop that connection and control. Magic, as you'll find, isn't just about waving a wand and saying the words. It's about intention, focus, and harmony between you and your wand."

I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure how I was supposed to find harmony with a wand that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Flitwick patted my arm gently, giving me another feather. "Try again. And don't be discouraged by a bit of excitement. You're here to learn, after all."

I sighed, but his words helped ease some of the embarrassment. Taking a deep breath, I raised my wand once more, this time with a little more caution. I focused on the feather, really focused, trying to block out the laughter and whispers around me. Swish and flick.

For a moment, nothing happened, and I was about to give up hope, but then — slowly, very slowly — the feather began to rise. It hovered just an inch above the desk, gently bobbing in the air.

Connor nudged me, grinning. "Now that's more like it."

Alvarus clapped me on the back, his face lighting up. "Told you you'd get it!"

My heart lifted, the earlier embarrassment fading as I watched the feather float gently in front of me. Sure, it wasn't the most graceful levitation in the room, but it was a start.

"All right, class!" Flitwick called out, surveying the room. "Well done, everyone! Remember, practice is key. Magic is as much about patience as it is about skill. Keep refining your movements, focus on your intent, and soon enough, you'll all be levitating things with ease."

I let out a sigh of relief as the feather hovered in front of me, its delicate movements almost mesmerising. For a second, I let myself relax. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe I was starting to get the hang of —

BANG!

The feather shot up into the air, but it wasn't just the feather. My wand suddenly crackled with energy, and sparks went flying around the classroom, bursting like fireworks. An air wave scattered my books across the room, and the quills on my desk shot up like tiny spears.

For a heartbeat, the room was silent. Then Connor broke into laughter again, nearly falling off his chair this time.

"Oh man, you just… you just can't stop, can you?" he managed to say between breaths, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

Alvarus grinned, his eyes wide with amusement. "It's like things went flying on command! You've got a real flair for the dramatic, Carlos!"

Kill me now, I swear.

Professor Flitwick approached again, his smile unfaltering despite the small chaos I had caused. He examined the mess I'd made for a moment before looking up at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, Mr. Edward, it seems your magic has quite the explosive personality today," he said lightly, though there was no malice in his tone. "But don't worry — this is a learning process. Sometimes, magic can surprise us in unexpected ways."

I rushed to gather my books and quills, which had somehow managed to scatter all over the place. "That wasn't supposed to happen," I muttered, feeling a bit sheepish. "I don't know what went wrong."

"Careful with that wand of yours, Carlos," Connor said, giving me a playful nudge. "You could start a tornado with the right spell."

The class stared at me awkwardly as I gathered my things on the floor. I then noticed the grimoire had fallen open. Instead of displaying a blank page, however, there was something written in big, bold letters.

Wingardium Leviosa

Right below it, there was what looked like some kind of… rune? Icon? It seemed to depict a feather inside a circle with sparkles around it, along with some other strange text I couldn't read.

Carefully, I picked it up, my fingers brushing the icon. Suddenly, I began hearing what sounded like… distant whispers. I looked around, unsure where the sound was coming from. Everything else seemed to have been tuned out.

Was it… trying to help me?

I couldn't resist. I placed the book back on the desk and tapped my hand lightly against it, feeling a soft, almost magnetic pull. The page shimmered with a faint golden glow, and suddenly, I felt a surge of warmth through my hand. It wasn't the chaotic, explosive energy from before — this felt controlled, focused. The whispers grew louder.

I hesitated, then raised my wand again, aiming it at the feather on my desk. "Wingardium Leviosa," I whispered, barely daring to hope.

To my shock, the feather floated rather immediately, rising with perfect grace. It hovered in the air, not bobbing like before, but steady, like it was waiting for me to direct it.

Connor's laughter stopped. "Whoa… how did you do that?" he asked, his grin fading into something like amazement. "You… you got it perfectly."

I stared at the floating feather, my heart racing. I had no idea what had just happened, but the Grimoire… it had to be the Grimoire. The laughter that filled the classroom previously had now switched to gasps of awe. I raised and lowered my wand, and the feather gently drifted up and down, completely under my control.

Alvarus leaned over, his eyes wide with awe. "Carlos, this is amazing! What did you do differently?"

"I'm… not entirely sure." I replied, my eyes focused on the movement of the feather as it slowly drifted down to its resting pose on my desk.

"Excellent work, Mr. Edward!" Commended professor Flitwick. "That earns you 5 points for Hufflepuff."

I looked around the room as whispers filled the air. Amongst the students, a single pair of eyes stared at me intently, as if shooting me daggers. That, of course, was Tiberius.

I sensed trouble.

Eventually, the sound of the bell echoed through the classroom, signalling the end of the lesson. Flitwick clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Excellent work today, everyone! Remember to practise the movements we went over. Levitation is a fundamental charm that will serve you well throughout your magical education, so don't be discouraged if it didn't come easily today. Patience, focus, and intent will guide your wand. Now, off you go to your next class!"

The room then buzzed with the sound of students gathering their things. I quickly shoved my books and the grimoire inside my bag before it drew any more attention, and we exited the classroom onto the bustling second floor corridor, headed to our next class.

"Carlos, that was amazing!" Connor gleamed at me as we walked down the second floor corridor "How did you pull that off?"

I tried not to look back, but I could tell I was being watched. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw Tiberius standing still by the classroom door, staring down at me as I walked away.

"It was the… uh… I'll explain later." I dodged the question as we turned a corner. Whatever I did back there, I sensed that maybe it wasn't all for the best.

The warm, humid air inside the greenhouse felt like stepping into an entirely different world. The vibrant scents of soil, leaves, and unfamiliar blossoms swirled together, creating an earthy mix that filled my nostrils. I rubbed my eyes, trying to blink away the itchiness that had begun creeping in almost immediately. My vision was a bit blurry, but I could still make out the lush green landscape around me, where vines twisted up support beams and exotic flowers bloomed in an array of colours.

We had just finished switching into our protective gear: thicker, brownish robes that felt a bit heavier than what I was used to, along with sturdy leather gloves and boots that clunked awkwardly as I moved. It was a far cry from the polished black shoes and lightweight school robes I'd worn for Charms earlier in the day, but it seemed necessary given the delicate nature of the work we were about to do.

Professor Longbottom stood at the front of the class, his own robes looking a bit more worn but fitting him like a second skin. His hands were covered in dirt-stained gloves, and his ever-present smile was encouraging.

Tiberius and his friends were in the class once more. I tried not to look, but I could tell he was staring at me amidst other students, at times with a smirk, other times with clear disdain. It felt rather invasive, to be honest.

Okay now Carlos, keep a low profile. Stay out of trouble.

I was about to put away my bag when I noticed a faint glow coming from inside of it. The Grimoire seemed to be updating yet again. I decided to ignore it this time around, not willing to draw any more attention. I did, however, choose to keep my bag next to me. Just in case.

"Alright, everyone," Professor Longbottom said, clapping his hands together to get our attention. "Welcome to your first Herbology lesson. Now, I know some of you might think plants are boring compared to, say, casting spells or duelling, but I promise you, Herbology is just as important, and sometimes, just as dangerous."

I noticed a few students glancing at each other nervously, clearly not expecting the word "dangerous" to come up in a class about plants.

Longbottom grinned. "But don't worry. That's why we're wearing these sturdy robes and gloves. Safety first. Always."

He moved to one of the tables and gestured for us to gather around. On the table in front of him was a series of strange-looking plants, some with spiky leaves, others with flowers that seemed to hum faintly. I squinted at them, my curiosity piqued.

I moved a little closer to the table, trying to get a better look at the plants. Despite my general lack of enthusiasm for the subject, there was something about the odd collection of flora that caught my interest. Professor Longbottom picked up one of the plants, a small potted specimen with thick, twisting vines covered in tiny thorns.

"Today we will be going over a few iconic species you may or may not be familiar with. Nothing too complex, mostly just a primer. This, for instance," he explained, holding the pot up for all of us to see, "is a Venomous Tentacula seedling. Now, can anyone tell me what makes this plant particularly dangerous?"

A few students exchanged confused looks, clearly unsure, while others seemed too shy to answer. I planned on staying quiet, not hoping to know any of the answers. Alvarus, however, raised his hand rather enthusiastically.

"It... it can shoot out its spines, right?" He blurted out before he could stop himself. "And it can also strangle people with its vines."

Longbottom smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Correct, Mr. Hagrid. The Venomous Tentacula is known for its aggressive behaviour. Its vines are strong enough to constrict, and those spines are filled with venom, so you always need to be cautious around these little fellows."

Longbottom set the plant down gently, turning to another specimen — a squat plant with thick, waxy leaves and a bulbous purple root. "Alright, now this one is a bit more common, but no less important. Anyone know what this is?"

Before I could even think, Tiberius's voice cut through the silence. "That's a Bouncing Bulb, professor," he said, his tone cool and confident. "They can grow pretty large and are known to… well, bounce around if not handled properly."

Longbottom nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Mr. Murtlock. The Bouncing Bulb may seem harmless, but in its larger stages, it can cause quite a bit of damage if you're not careful. One of my classmates got knocked out by a particularly rowdy one when we were in school."

There were a few quiet laughs from the group, but I couldn't help noticing the slight edge to Tiberius's tone, as if he was trying to outdo others. I glanced over at him. He caught my eye and smirked.

Longbottom continued, moving to the next plant — a pale, thick vine that seemed to be lifeless. "Now, for something a bit more obscure. Can anyone identify this one?"

"It's a Devil's Snare, sir!" Tiberius promptly replied, this time more energetic.

"That's right, Mr. Murtlock! Well done!" Longbottom praised, his eyes beaming with pride. I could tell he really enjoyed his job. "It may not look like it, but these are quite dangerous. Can anybody tell me why this one specimen isn't as lively as the others?"

"Because of the Sunlight, sir." Tiberius responded yet again, to professor Longbottom's contentment.

"Correct, Mr. Murtlock! Sunlight is the Devil's Snare greatest weakness, which is why you'll hardly find it lying about in the wilds and more commonly growing in caves and dark spaces. Very good!" Professor Longbottom praised.

I tried to ignore Tiberius as he continued answering all of Longbottom's questions with ease, each correct response earning him more approving nods from the professor. It was like he was determined to make sure everyone in the class knew how knowledgeable he was. Meanwhile, I kept my head down, hoping to just get through the lesson without drawing any attention.

It was then I heard a bit of ringing in my ear as the surrounding noise began tuning out. Then, whispering gradually came to my auditory foreground. I looked around, but everybody else was quietly watching the lecture. I tried ignoring it but the whispers grew louder, distant echoes of voices I couldn't quite place in space — or in time.

I blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the strange sensation that had taken over my senses. The greenhouse, with its vibrant greenery and the hum of Professor Longbottom's voice, seemed to fade into the background as the whispers filled my mind. It was as though someone — or something — was speaking to me, their words just out of reach, echoing like a distant breeze. I looked around again, but no one else seemed to notice anything. Everyone was focused on the lesson, completely unaware of the strange disturbance in my head.

I swallowed hard and tried to focus back on the lesson. Maybe I was just tired. It had been a long day, after all.

"Alright, who can tell me about the properties of the Mimbulus Mimbletonia?" Professor Longbottom asked, holding up a strange-looking plant with knobby, greyish leaves.

The whispers surged suddenly, and without thinking, my hand shot up. It felt like someone else was moving my body. My heart raced, and before I could stop myself, I heard my own voice answering.

"The Mimbulus Mimbletonia is known for its ability to defend itself by shooting out Stinksap when it feels threatened," I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended. The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a wave of panic rise in my chest. I hadn't even been paying attention to the question, but somehow the answer had just… appeared in my mind.

The whole class turned to me, probably due to the uncharacteristically thorough response. Professor Longbottom, however, raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed.

"Very good, Mr. Edward! That's absolutely correct." He then said, "The Mimbulus Mimbletonia uses its Stinksap to repel any threat, and it's incredibly hard to cultivate outside of its natural habitat. Five points to Hufflepuff!"

I blinked, completely baffled by my own response. I didn't even know what that plant was a second ago. How did I get the answer right?

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled, my mind still spinning.

Connor gave me a nudge, clearly impressed. "Nice one, Carlos! I didn't know you knew that stuff." He whispered.

"Neither did I," I admitted under my breath, still feeling the weight of the strange voices lingering in my head. The whispers had stopped as soon as I'd answered the question, but their echo was still there, just faint enough to unsettle me.

I glanced around and noticed Tiberius's smirk faltered slightly. He didn't seem pleased that I'd managed to beat him to the answer. He crossed his arms, watching me with an intensity that made me uneasy.

As Professor Longbottom moved on to the next plant, I couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over me. The whispers had faded, but the memory of them lingered. How did I know that? I'd never read anything about Mimbulus Mimbletonia before, and yet, the answer had come to me so naturally, like it had been planted in my mind. Was it the Grimoire? No, that didn't seem right. The Grimoire had shown me how to cast a spell, but this felt… different. The knowledge hadn't come from a book. It had just appeared, like the answer had been whispered directly into my ear.

Professor Longbottom moved on, oblivious to the inner turmoil I was feeling. He approached another table, this one covered in a series of small, delicate plants that looked like they were made of shimmering silver threads. They swayed gently as though being tugged by an invisible breeze.

"And here we have the Whispering Willows - not to be mistaken by their rowdier cousin, the Whomping Willow," Longbottom said, gesturing toward the silvery plants. "These are native to the northern forests of Scotland, but they're incredibly difficult to cultivate. Can anyone tell me what they're used for?"

The class was quiet. Even Tiberius, who had been eagerly answering most of the questions, seemed stumped by this one. I, on the other hand, could feel the whispers starting to rise again, soft and distant, but growing louder with each passing second.

My hand went up, almost against my will. "The Whispering Willows are often used in calming potions," I heard myself say, the words spilling out of me before I had a chance to stop them. "Their leaves can soothe anxiety, but they're also known to react violently if handled improperly."

Longbottom beamed at me. "That's exactly right, Carlos! Whispering Willow leaves are incredibly delicate, and if you try to harvest them without the proper care, the plant will defend itself."

My cheeks flushed as the class turned to look at me again. Connor raised his eyebrows in surprise, giving me an impressed look.

The lesson continued, and each time Professor Longbottom introduced a new plant or asked a question, the whispers would come back — faint at first, then louder until they were impossible to ignore.

"Can anyone identify this one?" Longbottom asked, pointing to a small, prickly plant with tiny yellow buds.

"Mandrake root," I answered immediately, the words practically tumbling out of my mouth. "The buds indicate it's young, and its cry won't be fatal, but it'll still knock you out if you hear it."

Longbottom nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "Exactly! Mandrakes are powerful, and their cries are deadly in adulthood, but at this stage, they're still manageable. Excellent work, Mr. Edward. Another five points to Hufflepuff.

The whispers came again when Longbottom held up a thick, gnarled root with strange purple veins running through it.

"And what about this one?" he asked, looking around the class.

"That's a Wormwood root," I found myself saying, my voice strong despite the unease bubbling inside me. "It's used in powerful healing potions, but it's also a key ingredient in some dark magic rituals. The roots are thought to carry ancient magic."

Longbottom blinked, surprised by the level of detail in my answer. "Very impressive, Carlos. You're absolutely right. Wormwood is a very powerful plant, and its magical properties are still being studied."

By now, the class had stopped murmuring amongst themselves. Everyone's attention was on me, and I could feel their curious stares. Even Tiberius, who had been answering so confidently at the beginning of the class, looked frustrated. His smirk was gone, replaced with a glare that sent chills down my spine. Longbottom went on, demonstrating how to properly handle the plants, giving us a chance to practise repotting them. I found myself standing next to Tiberius as we worked, and I could feel the tension between us. He seemed determined to outdo me, carefully repotting his Venomous Tentacula with quick, precise movements.

"You know," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear, "for someone who acts clueless most of the time, you sure seem to know a lot when it counts."

I kept my eyes on my plant, trying to focus. "It's just a coincidence. I've been reading a lot."

"Hmm." Tiberius didn't seem convinced. "We'll see if that's enough to keep up, won't we?"

I frowned at his tone. "Keep up with what, exactly?"

He shrugged, glancing over at Professor Longbottom, who was helping another student. "With everything. You and I both know this year's going to be... different. Some of us are prepared for that."

I set down the shovel I was using and sighed, wondering whether or not I should engage with or deflect the clear provocations.

"Listen…" I began, unsure how to phrase things. "Perhaps we started this on the wrong foot. I want no issue with you."

Tiberius glanced at me, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a smirk slowly crept across his face, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No issue with me?" he repeated, his voice low and mocking. "That's rich, coming from someone who's been flaunting around like they know more than they let on."

I frowned, feeling a surge of frustration rise in my chest. "You think I asked for this? I have no idea what's been happening to me."

Tiberius's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper now. "Don't give me that, we both know it's all in that Grimoire you want to keep so bad. If you think you can just coast through the year with that thing giving you all the answers, you're sorely mistaken."

I felt my grip tighten on the handle of the trowel. "You don't know anything about the Grimoire," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice calm. "It's not what you think."

"Isn't it?" he replied, his tone icy. "You've barely been here a day, and already you've earned your house fifteen points when you couldn't even keep your wand steady. I see right through you, Edward. And when the time comes, don't think for a second that book will save you."

"What does that mean?" I questioned, already losing my patience.

Professor Longbottom clapped his hands again, signalling the end of the lesson. "Excellent work today, everyone! You're all off to a great start. Just remember, Herbology is about patience and care. Treat the plants with respect, and they'll reward you in kind. You're dismissed!"

Tiberius glanced at me one last time before retreating to his Gryffindor group. I shook my head, unsure of how things got so sour so quickly. What did I do that got me on his wrong side in the first place? As I gathered my things, I couldn't help but steal another glance at Tiberius. He was already walking away, his posture rigid, but I knew this wasn't the last time we'd cross paths like this.

Not by a long shot.

The Great Hall was bustling with the sound of cutlery and chatter during lunch hours. Nothing like the feast, but rather an example of what a busy day at Hogwarts was like.

"Hey" Connor nudged me on the shoulder "How did you pull that off?"

"Pull what off?" I asked, trying to act clueless.

"You know what. The spell in charms class and the Herbology stuff." He clarified. "You went from blowing things up to being an expert in magical plants. You can't call that beginner's luck."

I sighed, glancing around the busy Great Hall. Students were chatting, eating, and laughing, oblivious to our conversation. But it still felt like someone was watching us, and I didn't need to look to know who it was. Tiberius had been keeping an eye on me ever since Charms class. His glares felt more intense, as if he was biding his time.

"It's the Grimoire, it —" I stopped myself upon realising I was speaking way too loud, looking over my shoulder to avoid any unwanted listeners "It showed me the spell and… guided me through it, I think? It's like it… channels magic or something." I whispered.

Connor's eyes widened with curiosity. Along with Alvarus, he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to match mine. "Guided you? Like, showed you how to cast it properly?"

"No, I mean… I don't know." I responded. "I showed me this rune for the spell. All I did was touch it."

Alvarus, sitting beside us, was practically vibrating with excitement. "That's incredible! The Grimoire must be really powerful if it can do that. I mean, I've never heard of a book doing something like that."

"Neither have I," I admitted, my mind racing as I thought about the implications. If the Grimoire could guide me like that, it meant I had access to something way beyond a first-year's capabilities. But at the same time, it made me feel uneasy. Why did I need help from the Grimoire to perform such a simple spell? Why was I not capable of doing it on my own?

Connor's eyes lit up with fascination. "So, what? it's like a magical cheat code?"

"More like a crutch," I muttered, pushing my food around my plate. "It doesn't feel right. What if I can't do magic without it? What if I'm just relying on the book to do all the work for me?

Connor shrugged, shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Mate, you're still learning. Who cares if the Grimoire helps you for now? Maybe it's there to guide you, not do everything for you. You'll figure it out."

I poked at the food on my plate, the weight of Connor's words sinking in. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. The idea of relying on the Grimoire felt like cheating, even if it wasn't exactly doing all the work for me. But what if I never learned to cast magic properly on my own?

"I don't know," I muttered, my eyes flicking toward the Grimoire peeking out from my bag. "It's just... strange. Like, why is it helping me now? Why me?"

Alvarus leaned in, his excitement barely contained. "Maybe it chose you, Carlos! Magical objects have a will of their own sometimes. Maybe the Grimoire recognized something special in you and decided to help. You could be destined for something bigger."

I almost snorted at the word "destined." "Destined for what? Blowing up more feathers?"

Connor chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Hey, at least your magic has got some flair. Maybe the Grimoire is just teaching you to harness it. Could be like training wheels — once you get the hang of it, you won't need the book anymore."

"What are training wheels?" Alvarus asked, genuinely curious. Connor and I stared at each other.

"I'll explain later." I deflected as I felt a sharp tug of tension in the air. My gaze instinctively drifted to the far end of the Gryffindor table, where Tiberius was seated. He was watching us — watching me — with that same cold, calculating look. His arms were crossed, and his group of friends seemed to be talking around him, but he was fixated on me, like a predator sizing up its prey.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, and Connor noticed. "What's up?" he asked, following my gaze. His expression darkened when he spotted Tiberius. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know," I whispered, keeping my voice low. "But I think he's after the Grimoire."

Alvarus raised an eyebrow. "Tiberius? Why would he care about your book? I mean, he doesn't strike me as the bookish type."

Connor leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower. "Maybe it's not the book itself, but what it can do. You said the Grimoire's guiding you through spells. If Tiberius knows that, he might think it's some kind of powerful artefact."

"And would he be wrong?" I asked. "All I know about it is that it belonged to my grandfather. Back in Herbology, he said it was giving me all the answers, and that he could see right through me. I had no rebuttal against it."

Connor's expression shifted into a frown, and he glanced back at Tiberius before speaking again. "Your grandfather was a Curse-Breaker, right? He probably had some pretty powerful stuff. If this Grimoire helped him, it could be way more than just a book."

Alvarus nodded excitedly. "Exactly! If Tiberius knows even a bit of what it can do, he might see it as a tool he can use. Maybe that's why he's been watching you so closely. He probably wants it for himself."

I took a deep breath, pushing my plate away. The food had lost its appeal, and the knot of anxiety in my chest was growing tighter. "That's what scares me. I don't even know the full extent of what the Grimoire can do, but he's acting like he already knows. It's like… he's waiting for me to slip up."

Connor crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat as he stared across the hall at Tiberius. "Sounds like he's testing the waters, seeing what you're capable of. But don't let him get to you. If he makes a move, we'll have your back."

"I appreciate it," I muttered, trying to shake the growing unease. "But I don't want to make this a bigger deal than it already is. The last thing I need is for everyone to think I'm walking around with some ancient magical artefact that can do who knows what."

Alvarus leaned forward, lowering his voice even more. "But you are, though. And that's the thing — you don't even know what it can do yet. You should try and figure it out before someone else does."

I bit my lip, glancing down at my bag where the Grimoire sat tucked away. The thought of diving deeper into its mysteries was both exciting and terrifying. What if I uncovered something I wasn't ready for? Or worse, what if it fell into the wrong hands, like Tiberius's?

"I guess you're right," I said quietly. "But how do I even begin? It's not like the Grimoire comes with an instruction manual."

Connor leaned in closer, his voice serious now. "You said the book showed you runes, right? Maybe it's trying to teach you. Maybe each spell you try to learn will give you more pieces of the puzzle. It's not just about using the book to cast spells — it's about understanding what it's showing you."

I considered his words for a moment. It made sense, in a way. The Grimoire had already shown me runes for the Wingardium Leviosa spell — maybe there was more hidden within its pages. "I'll try looking at it tonight," I said, finally making up my mind. "But I have to be careful. If Tiberius is watching me that closely, the last thing I want is for him to see me using it too much."

Alvarus nodded. "Good idea. Don't let him know what you're up to. The less he knows, the better."

As we finished up lunch, I caught one last glimpse of Tiberius. He wasn't staring anymore, but the cold look in his eyes hadn't softened. Whatever he was planning, I could feel it brewing just beneath the surface.

The day wasn't over yet.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was filled with an eager buzz as we took our seats, the air thick with anticipation for the last class of the day. Unlike previous subjects, the very name of this class promised something a bit more exciting — and possibly more dangerous.

The classroom seemed to be a slightly curved attic with three dormer windows on each side, a turret leading to the Teacher's office and the main access tower. Above us, what looked like a dinosaur skeleton was tethered to the roof beams, in a way that did not interfere with the chandeliers. At the front of the classroom stood a professor I had not yet seen. According to the timetable, his name was Bill Weasley. He was tall and lean, with a weathered look that suggested he'd seen his fair share of… dark arts. His long, red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and the faint scars on his face seemed to tell stories of battles fought and won. Despite his rough appearance, he had an easy smile that put most of the students at ease.

"Been looking forward to this one!" Connor then whispered to me.

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"Because he's an actual real life Curse-Breaker! You know, the kind that goes on adventures and stuff!" Connor excitedly relayed.

"Wait, seriously? Like my grandfather?" I asked. Connor nodded.

"Alright, everyone," The professor began, his voice carrying easily over the chatter. "Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Now, I know you're all eager to jump right into fighting off dark creatures and throwing powerful spells, but today we're going to start with something a bit simpler — though no less important."

He flicked his wand, and the curtains at the windows snapped shut with a sharp swish, plunging the room into near darkness. A few students gasped, and I heard someone fumble with their quill in the dim light.

"In many situations, especially when dealing with certain magical entities, light can be your best defence," Professor Weasley continued, his tone serious now. "There are creatures out there that fear the light, that are weakened by it. And in dark places — whether it's a forest, an old tomb, or perhaps even the dungeons of this castle — the ability to summon light at will can be the difference between life and death."

I glanced around the room and could tell I wasn't the only one intrigued. Connor was practically bouncing in his seat, clearly trying to hold back a million questions. Alvarus, on the other hand, was sitting quietly but leaning forward in anticipation.

"Now, who here has heard of the wand-lighting charm?" Professor Weasley asked, pacing at the front of the room with his wand held loosely in his hand. A few students raised their hands, Alvarus and Connor included, and I found myself hesitantly lifting mine as well. I knew the spell — it was basic enough — but I'd never actually tried it.

Professor Weasley grinned, his eyes scanning the room. "Good. It's a simple charm, but one that can save your life in a pinch. Whether you're fending off Dark Creatures or simply finding your way through a pitch-black corridor, the ability to conjure light is invaluable." He raised his wand, and with a calm, clear voice, said, "Lumos."

The tip of his wand flared to life with a bright, white light, casting an eerie glow across his scarred face. The room was still dark, but the light from his wand created long shadows on the walls, making everything seem just a little more mysterious.

"Now, I want all of you to try it. Remember, the incantation is Lumos. Focus on your intent, keep your wand steady, and let the magic flow. It's a simple charm, but don't be discouraged if you don't get it right away." He extinguished the light from his wand with a casual flick and stepped back to observe us.

I glanced at Connor, who already had his wand out and ready. He caught my eye and grinned. "Ready to light things up, Carlos?" he whispered, clearly excited to give the charm a try.

"Let's see if I don't blow something up again," I muttered under my breath, gripping my wand a little too tightly.

Connor chuckled as we both raised our wands. "Lumos," I whispered, focusing hard on the tip of my wand. For a moment, nothing happened. My wand stayed dark, and I felt a pang of frustration. Around me, other students were attempting the spell as well, with varying degrees of success. A few managed to produce faint flickers of light, while others struggled to get anything at all.

Connor, of course, was already showing off. A soft glow emanated from the tip of his wand, lighting up his face as he grinned at me. "Hey, not bad, right?"

"Show-off," I muttered, but I couldn't help smiling.

I took a deep breath and tried again. "Lumos."

This time, the tip of my wand glowed faintly, a small, flickering light that barely illuminated my hand. But it was something, and I felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Better," Connor said, nodding approvingly. "You're getting there."

I glanced at Professor Weasley, who was moving through the room, offering tips and encouragement. He stopped near a group of Ravenclaw students, one of whom had managed to conjure a particularly bright light.

"Well done," he said with a nod, his tone genuinely impressed. "Remember, the strength of the light depends on your focus and intent. It's not just about the words — it's about your control over the magic itself."

I tried shaking the wand hoping for a better result, yet all I got was a gust of colourful firework sparks leaving the tip of my wand and sweeping the classroom before exploding… loudly. The classroom fell into laughter once more. Professor Weasley too couldn't hold a chuckle after the mishap.

"What's up with this wand and all the pyrotechnics?" I complained to myself, fanning off the remaining firework smoke. "I thought this was supposed to be simple magic."

"Does moving a brand new limb sound simple to you?" Connor asked rhetorically.

"How would I know? I never had one of those." I questioned with a frown.

"It's the same principle. You gotta strengthen the muscles in order to move around. The more you move, the more flexibility you'll get." Connor explained. "At least that's how my Dad told me it worked."

Just then, a voice from the back of the room called out, breaking the concentrated murmurs of spell practice. "Professor Weasley, is it true that you're a real Curse-Breaker?"

The room seemed to pause for a moment, all eyes turning toward the student who had asked the question. Professor Weasley straightened up, his easy smile returning as he turned to face the class.

"I was wondering when someone would ask," he said, chuckling softly. "Yes, it's true. I worked as a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts for many years. It's a dangerous line of work — tombs, ancient artefacts, dark curses — but it's also fascinating. It takes a deep understanding of magic and its many intricacies to disarm the curses placed on ancient treasures. And believe me, some of them are designed to keep people out at any cost."

Connor's eyes widened with excitement, and I could feel his gaze burning into me. "See? Told you!" he mouthed.

Before anyone else could say anything, another student chimed in, this time with a more serious question. "Are you involved in the excavations beneath Hogwarts, then? The ones we've been hearing about?"

Professor Weasley's smile faltered just slightly, but he recovered quickly, his expression calm and composed. "No no, I'm not personally involved in the current excavation. That's being handled by a different team of Curse-Breakers, led by Mr. Rudolph Murtlock. My role here is strictly as your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, though I can certainly say the dig is... quite interesting."

He didn't offer any more details, but I could sense a subtle tension in the room. The mention of the excavations had clearly piqued everyone's curiosity, including mine. We'd heard about the dig from Professor McGonagall's speech at the feast, but I hadn't thought much of it at the time. Now, though, with the way Professor Weasley spoke — or rather, didn't speak — about it, I couldn't help but wonder what secrets lay beneath the castle.

Tiberius, sitting a few rows back, was watching Professor Weasley closely, his expression thoughtful. I couldn't tell if he was just as curious as the rest of us or if he already knew more than he was letting on. Either way, the mention of Murtlock's name sent a cold shiver down my spine. There was definitely more going on here than we were being told.

"All right, back to work," Professor Weasley said, clapping his hands together. "Keep practising your Lumos charm. And remember —"

"Excuse me professor," Tiberius's voice cut through the class rather disrespectfully. "What do you know about the Heir of Hogwarts?"

The moment Tiberius's question echoed through the classroom, a ripple of unease spread among the students. Whispers of "What?" filled the air, and I could feel every gaze shift from Professor Weasley to Tiberius. Even Connor's ever-present excitement seemed to falter as the weight of the question sank in.

Needless to say, I was confused.

Professor Weasley's expression shifted. The easy smile that had carried him through the lesson vanished, replaced with a more serious, almost guarded look. He cleared his throat, letting the moment stretch out a bit longer than I was comfortable with.

"Right. The Heir of Hogwarts…" he began, his voice steady but lacking the casual tone he had used before, "For those of you who don't know, the Heir of Hogwarts is a title that's rooted in both legend and history. It is said that the Founders of Hogwarts — Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw — left behind more than just their legacies and teachings when they created this school."

I exchanged a look with Connor, whose wide-eyed expression told me that he was just as surprised by the shift in atmosphere as I was. Tiberius was staring at Professor Weasley with an intensity that made the room feel smaller, tighter, like something heavy was about to drop.

Professor Weasley continued, his voice still steady but lower, as though he wasn't entirely comfortable with where this conversation was headed. "The title of heir is believed to be linked to an ancient figure known as the Architect of Hogwarts, a powerful wizard who is credited with designing and enchanting much of the castle." He continued, "The Architect was a master of magic that went far beyond anything we teach here today. He constructed secret passageways, hidden chambers, and protective wards that even now remain a mystery to most. It is said that the magic he wielded was capable of…"

"...Fundamentally altering the fabric of reality." I mouthed as professor Weasley finished the sentence. It wasn't the first time I came across that sentence.

"Legend has it," He went on, "that the Architect didn't leave any descendants. Instead, he took his secrets to the grave. But the Founders, knowing the importance of protecting his legacy, devised a series of trials and challenges. They believed that only someone worthy, someone who could rise to the occasion, should inherit the Architect's knowledge — and the title of the Heir of Hogwarts."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"Very little is known of these trials, whether they still exist let alone if anybody's ever completed them." he said quietly, "But it is said that whoever does so, whoever proves themselves worthy, would be granted access to the deepest secrets of Hogwarts — and with them, the power to shape and protect the castle itself."

The classroom was deathly silent by now. I frowned slightly. Shape the castle itself? Access to the deepest secrets? What would that even entail? The Grimoire had hinted at something like this before, but the idea of being able to shape the castle to one's volition felt actually extraordinary.

Tiberius leaned back in his chair, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I could tell he wasn't just curious — he was fishing for information. But Professor Weasley wasn't about to give away too much.

"Of course," Weasley added, his voice casual again, "the myth of Heir of Hogwarts is mostly seen these days as just that: a myth. A story passed down through generations. Whether or not any of it is real… well, that's something no one can say for sure."

A few students exchanged glances, whispering to one another. The mystery of it all hung in the air like a thick fog.

Tiberius raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with Weasley's evasive answer. "So you're saying it could be real, then? That someone could still become the Heir?"

Professor Weasley's eyes flickered toward Tiberius for just a moment, his expression unreadable. "I'm saying," he replied slowly, "that Hogwarts is full of mysteries, some of which may never be fully understood. But it's important to remember that power, especially the kind of power tied to something like this, isn't something to seek lightly."

Tiberius's smirk faded, but only slightly. It was clear that he had gotten what he wanted.

I was still processing what I'd heard when the sound of the bell cut through the classroom, signalling the end of the lesson. The spell practice was all but forgotten as students quickly gathered their things, murmuring amongst themselves about the strange conversation.

"Ah, would you look at that?" Professor Weasley said in a confused yet laid back tone. "Well, I suppose that is it for today. Make sure to practise the Lumos charm in your spare time, it'll prove invaluable in future classes. Off you go".

As the bell rang and students began shuffling out of the classroom, my mind was still racing from what Professor Weasley had said about the Heir of Hogwarts. The idea of someone wielding that kind of power, being able to reshape the castle itself… part of me wondered why? Why would such power be granted in the first place? What's so special about Hogwarts that requires protection?

Connor nudged me as he stood up, gathering his things. "That was wild, wasn't it? You think any of it's real?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but my thoughts were spiralling. "Maybe. Who knows? It's hard to tell with these kinds of legends."

Alvarus, who was standing by the door, chimed in. "If it is real, imagine what kind of magic would be involved. Controlling the castle? That's something only a powerful wizard could do."

I glanced back at my bag, where the Grimoire was safely tucked away. Its pages were glowing as it updated once more.

"You guys go ahead," I said, standing up and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I need to ask Professor Weasley something. I'll catch up."

Connor and Alvarus exchanged curious looks but didn't argue. "Don't take too long," Connor said with a grin. "We've still got to unpack what just happened."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be quick," I said, waving them off. Once they left the classroom, I made my way to the front where Professor Weasley was stacking up papers and absentmindedly rearranging his desk.

"Professor?" I began, my voice a little hesitant.

He glanced up, a friendly smile still on his face despite the serious conversation we had just wrapped up. "Hello there. Carlos, right? What can I do for you?"

I swallowed, feeling a bit nervous now that I had his full attention. "I just… I wanted to ask you about something. You mentioned you were a Curse-Breaker, and I've been hearing about this excavation under Hogwarts-"

"I'm… really not in a place to talk much about the excavations beneath the castle." Weasley deflected.

"... but my grandfather, Henry C. Martin, was a Curse-Breaker too. I was wondering if you might've… heard of him?" I sheepishly asked.

Weasley's expression shifted slightly at the mention of my grandfather's name. His smile softened, and for a moment, there was something like recognition in his eyes. "Henry C. Martin… Yes, I've heard of him. One of the best Curse-Breakers the Ministry's ever had, from what I recall. Your grandfather was well-respected in our circles. A bit of a legend, really."

My heart raced. Hearing that from someone like Bill Weasley gave me an odd sense of pride, but it also made me feel even smaller in comparison. "A few months back, I didn't even know of his existence… let alone the existence of magic. I was wondering if there is something about his disappearance you might know of. Something the stories don't tell?"

Professor Weasley's expression shifted slightly, and he leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms. The easy smile he wore faded just a bit, replaced with a more thoughtful look. "Your grandfather's disappearance… that's a mystery, even in our world. There were all sorts of rumours back when it happened. Some say he went too deep into ancient magic, or perhaps discovered something that others wanted to keep hidden. But there's no concrete answer, not that I've ever heard."

I bit my lip, feeling a familiar tightness in my chest. "He left me something… something I don't fully understand." I added quietly.

Professor Weasley raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "Go on."

I hesitated, glancing around to make sure we were alone before I opened my bag and pulled out the Grimoire. I held it up for him to see, feeling a little self-conscious. "This. It's a Grimoire, and it belonged to my grandfather. I've been trying to figure out what it is and how it works, but it's… different. It's like it's alive or something."

Professor Weasley's eyebrows rose slightly, his curiosity clearly piqued. "A Grimoire, you say? If your grandfather left you something like that, it's likely very powerful… and very dangerous." He pushed himself off the desk and stopped just in front of me. "May I see it?"

I hesitated for a moment, gripping the Grimoire a little tighter before slowly handing it over to Professor Weasley. I wasn't entirely sure what I was getting into, but if anyone knew something about it, it would be a Curse-Breaker.

Weasley took the book carefully, his expression shifting to one of deep focus as he turned it over in his hands, inspecting its worn cover and the faint runes etched into its spine. "Grimoires are incredibly rare," he began, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "They're not just books — they're magical conduits, usually bound to the witch or wizard who creates them. They can store knowledge, spells, and even channel magic in ways that most books and wands can't."

He ran his fingers over the cover, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examined the details of the imbued clock mechanism. "But this one… it's different. The runes are older than anything I've seen recently. This isn't just any Grimoire, Carlos. It's ancient magic, the kind you don't come across every day."

Weasley carefully opened the book, flipping through a few pages. I half-expected it to glow or react in some way, like it had when I used it during Charms class, but it remained eerily still.

"Strange… it seems to be blank." He pointed out.

"I think it only reveals itself to whom it trusts." I explained.

"I see," He frowned slightly, then looked back at me. "Grimoires tied to ancient magic are often more than just tools for learning. They have a will of their own, so to speak. They can adapt to the wielder, offer guidance, and sometimes even protect their user. But they're also dangerous — because they can draw attention from those who want to misuse that power."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Professor Weasley's words sink in. "Draw attention from people who want to misuse it?" I repeated, my voice quieter now. "You mean, like Tiberius?"

Professor Weasley folded his arms, looking at me suspiciously. "What is it between you and this boy, Tiberius?"

"I couldn't tell you, professor." I replied. "When I first saw him in Diagon Alley, the very first thing he ever did was try and steal the Grimoire."

Professor Weasley's eyebrows furrowed at my words, and he leaned back slightly, still holding the Grimoire in his hands. "Tried to steal it, you say? Unprompted?"

I nodded, unsure if it was a good idea to even disclose that.

Professor Weasley's frown deepened, and he carefully handed the Grimoire back to me. "Grimoires like this are not just sought after for the magic they contain. They're relics, and they often hold knowledge and power that most wizards could only dream of. Some might see your Grimoire as a shortcut to that power, especially if they know it belonged to a skilled Curse-Breaker like your grandfather."

I swallowed hard, clutching the Grimoire tighter. "What should I do?"

Professor Weasley gave me a small, reassuring smile. "For now, focus on your studies. Learn what you can from the Grimoire, but don't rush into anything. And if you ever need help — with anything — come see me. I've dealt with my fair share of ancient magic. You're not alone in this."

I nodded, feeling a little more grounded, but the weight of the Grimoire felt heavier than ever. "Thanks, Professor. I appreciate it."

"Take care, Carlos," he said, his tone soft but serious. "And keep your eyes open. There's more to Hogwarts than meets the eye."

As I tucked away the Grimoire in my bag, I stepped out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, looking around for any suspicious activity. Connor and Alvarus were waiting for me just outside, leaning against the stone wall. When they saw me, they both straightened up, curiosity written all over their faces. I should have known they wouldn't leave me to my own devices.

"So? What did he say?" Connor asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice as we descended down the spiral staircase of the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower. His footsteps echoed against the ancient stone steps, matching his eager energy.

"Hum... not much?" I relayed, adjusting the strap of my bag where the Grimoire's weight pressed against my shoulder. "I told him it was my grandfather's, whom he obviously heard of, but... he never knew him personally. He did mention that the Grimoire seemed to be linked to ancient magic, though he didn't go into much detail. He seemed cautious, almost like he didn't want to say too much." The memory of Professor Weasley's concerned expression made me feel uneasy.

Alvarus's eyes widened, his face lighting up with that familiar enthusiasm he always showed for magical discoveries. "Ancient magic? That sounds amazing! Did he give you any idea of how to use it?"

I shook my head, watching our shadows dance along the walls from the flickering torchlight. "Not really. He said Grimoires like this one are rare and powerful, but also dangerous. He warned me to be careful and to keep an eye out, especially with Tiberius around."

"So… this ancient magic thing. What exactly does that even entail?" Connor then asked as we walked down the third floor corridor, our footsteps echoing off the high stone walls lined with animated portraits who pretended not to eavesdrop.

"I wouldn't know, Professor Weasley seemed purposefully vague. From what I gathered, it's magic that's been long lost to time." I responded.

"Yeah, that's the bit I don't quite get," said Connor, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Just how different is it from the magic of today? Granted, he did tell us it is a kind of magic that could 'alter the fabric of reality'. But what does that mean, really?"

"Of course you wouldn't know, Fletcher." A dreadful familiar voice chimed in from behind us, making us all turn. It was none other than Tiberius, his pristine robes marking him out even in the dim corridor light. He wasn't alone either — two older students flanked him, both wearing Gryffindor robes and wearing matching smirks. "Ancient magic isn't something you read about in your little first-year textbooks."

Connor and Alvarus immediately moved closer to me, their shoulders squared. I could feel the tension radiating from them, but Connor's voice remained remarkably calm when he spoke.

"What do you want, Tiberius?" Connor inquired.

"Drop it, Fletcher. This has nothing to do with you." Tiberius warned.

"Oh, hasn't it? Then why do you need those two others?" Said Connor, gesturing to the older students behind Tiberius.

"I figured you Hufflepuff's would know the value of camaraderie, or am I mistaken?" Provoked Tiberius, the older students moving in closer. One of them cast a quick "Silencio" on the nearby portraits, preventing them from calling for help.

"Look, Tiberius, we're just heading for dinner. There's no need for any trouble here." Alvarus attempted to intervene.

"Trouble?" Tiberius's lip curled into a sneer. "I'm merely expressing an academic interest in Edward's... unique study material." His eyes fixed on my bag where the Grimoire was stored. "Some of us come from families that understand what real power is."

"And what makes you think you have any right to Carlos' inheritance?" Connor spoke up.

"Rights?" Tiberius laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Magic like that doesn't belong locked away in some first-year's bag. It needs to be studied, understood... used properly."

"That Grimoire belongs to Carlos," Alvarus said firmly, his usual cheerful demeanour replaced with quiet determination.

"Wrong. Much like wands, Grimoires belong to those who earn them in a duel." Tiberius spoke with a sneer. The two older students pulled out their wands.

"If you want to fight Carlos, you'll have to pass through us first!" Connor challenged.

"Not a problem. Boys!" Tiberius ordered.

"Flipendo!" The two older students hurled their spells at us.

"Protego!" Connor instinctively cast a shimmering shield that engulfed us.

The shield charm absorbed both spells, but the impact made Connor stagger backwards. I could tell from his laboured breathing that maintaining such advanced magic was taking its toll.

"Carlos, do something!" Alvarus called. I hurriedly retrieved the Grimoire from my bag and flipped it open, expecting it to display something that would work in our favour.

This time, however, it didn't.

My heart raced as I frantically flipped through the Grimoire's pages, but they remained stubbornly blank. No runes appeared, no magical guidance manifested - nothing.

"I got nothing!" I shouted just as Connor's shield began to falter.

"Expelliarmus!" One of the older students shouted, and Connor's wand flew from his grip, clattering against the stone floor.

"Locomotor Mortis!" The other student's spell hit Alvarus square in the chest, binding his legs together. He toppled over with a yelp.

I backed away, still clutching the unresponsive Grimoire. "Protego!" I attempted the shield charm Connor had used, but without the Grimoire's help, my spell fizzled weakly.

"Stupefy!" A red bolt of light struck me in the shoulder, sending me spinning to the ground. The Grimoire slipped from my grasp, sliding across the floor.

"No!" I reached for it, but one of Tiberius's friends planted his foot on my outstretched hand. I cried out in pain as he ground his heel down.

Connor tried to scramble for his wand, but the other student kicked it further away before grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall.

Tiberius walked over and picked up the Grimoire, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. "Finally. Now we'll see what secrets you've been hiding."

"Give it back!" I broke free from his crony's foot, but Tiberius was faster. He slammed me into a nearby door, which burst open behind me. I stumbled backwards into what felt like a broom cupboard, surrounded by mops and cleaning supplies.

"You'll have it back when I'm done with it!" Tiberius sneered, then slammed the door shut. I heard the lock click into place, followed by retreating footsteps and muffled shouts from Connor and Alvarus.

"Help!" I pounded frantically on the door, my fists aching as they struck the solid wood, but my voice seemed to die in the cramped, musty space. The overwhelming scent of cleaning potions made my head spin. I turned around desperately, squinting in the darkness and trying to find another way out. I held up my wand, hoping to put the previous lesson to good use.

"Lumos… Lumos!" I flickered my wand around, trying to get anything resembling a spark out of it. When its tip finally lit up, however, I gasped upon seeing a huge spider swinging down its web mere centimetres from my face. I stumbled backwards, my hands brushing against the rough, cold stones of the back wall. Suddenly, one of the stones shifted under my touch with an ancient grinding sound.

The sound of shifting stone bricks filled the cupboard as the wall began to move, revealing a narrow passage beyond. There were no light sources to be seen, only worn stone steps that descended into darkness.

I hesitated for a moment, looking back at the locked door. Connor and Alvarus would surely get help… if Tiberius didn't do anything to them. Realising help wasn't gonna come anytime soon, I knew I couldn't just sit around and wait for someone to hear me.

Staring at the passageway, Professor Weasley's words echoed in my mind: "There's more to Hogwarts than meets the eye." Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the opening. The wall slid shut behind me with a final, echoing thud, leaving me no choice but to follow the narrow passageway into the depths of the castle.

And so I did.

Author Notes: Thanks for reading, be sure to leave a review! Don't forget to share this story with your peers.