Back to Scholl and Investigations

All too soon, it was time to go back to school.

Sal was seated at a secluded table in the Hogwarts library, surrounded by stacks of books on magical theory, area-effect spells, and runes. The soft glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated the parchment he was writing on, his quill scratching against the surface as he jotted down notes on a new enchantment concept.

He barely looked up when someone pulled out a chair across from him.

"I need to ask you something," Hermione Granger's voice broke through the library's quiet atmosphere.

Sal glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. What's up?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment before sliding a large book onto the table and leaning forward. "Do you know anything about Nicolas Flamel?"

Sal blinked, setting his quill down. "Yeah, of course. He's one of the most famous alchemists in wizarding history."

Hermione nodded quickly, flipping through the pages of her book. "Exactly! He created the Sorcerer's Stone, which grants immortality through the Elixir of Life."

Sal tilted his head. "Alright, but why are you suddenly interested in Flamel?"

Hermione lowered her voice, her eyes darting around the library to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Because I think that's what's being guarded at Hogwarts."

Sal's expression hardened slightly. He had already been suspicious of why so many enchantments were placed on the third-floor corridor, but he hadn't considered this.

"And what makes you think that?" he asked, leaning forward.

"I've been researching ever since Hagrid let something slip about Dumbledore working with Flamel. And it makes sense, doesn't it? A powerful magical artifact, something Voldemort would want, being hidden in the most secure place in Britain?"

Sal exhaled through his nose, considering the implications.

"If that's true," he muttered, "then we have a serious problem."

Hermione nodded furiously, clearly relieved that someone was taking her theory seriously. "That means someone might be after it."

Sal leaned back, crossing his arms. "Harry and Ron know about this?"

"Yes, I just came from telling them," Hermione admitted, glancing toward the exit. "I think we need to find out how well-protected the Stone really is."

Sal drummed his fingers against the table, thinking. "The third-floor corridor… Fluffy is only the first line of defense. There must be more protections, but I'd bet the professors each contributed to them."

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's brilliant! If we figure out what kind of protections are in place, we might be able to find out who's trying to get through them."

Sal smirked slightly. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Hermione huffed, folding her arms. "It's important."

Sal chuckled, closing his book. "I'm not disagreeing. Fine, we'll look into it, but we need to be careful."

Hermione nodded, standing up. "I'll keep researching. Let me know if you find out anything."

Before Sal could ask more questions, Hermione had already rushed off.

Sal sighed, glancing at his parchment. "Guess I have a new research project."

He quickly gathered his books and left the library, his mind already working through the puzzle of the Sorcerer's Stone and what it could mean for Hogwarts.

Sal was making his usual rounds as a prefect, checking that no students were out after curfew, when he heard hurried footsteps approaching from behind. He turned to see Draco Malfoy, wearing a smug expression as he came to a stop in front of him.

"Malfoy," Sal greeted neutrally. "What are you doing out after curfew?"

Draco folded his arms, tilting his chin up. "I was on my way back when I saw something interesting."

Sal raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

Draco smirked. "Potter, Weasley, and Granger—sneaking around the castle after hours. They were with that oaf Hagrid, probably hatching some ridiculous plan."

Sal sighed, rubbing his temples. "And you decided to tell me because…?"

Draco shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. "Because I'm a good student, Cross. You're a prefect, aren't you? Isn't it your job to report rule-breakers?"

Sal exhaled sharply. He wasn't about to let Draco's obvious gloating get to him, but he did have a duty. If those three were sneaking around, they could get into serious trouble—or worse.

"Alright," Sal said. "Follow me."

Draco grinned and fell into step beside him as they made their way toward Professor McGonagall's office.

By the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione came sneaking back into the castle, Sal and Professor McGonagall were waiting for them in the corridor, arms crossed.

Harry froze mid-step. "Oh… uh… hello, Professor."

Ron turned pale, looking from Sal to McGonagall. "I can explain—"

"I sincerely doubt that, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall cut in coldly.

Draco, who had been standing off to the side, smirked triumphantly. "Told you."

McGonagall turned to him. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, and while I appreciate the information, I fail to see why you were also out after curfew."

Draco's smirk vanished instantly. "I—uh—I was just—"

"You were also breaking the rules," Sal interjected smoothly. "Which means that you, too, will be facing detention."

Draco's face twisted in outrage. "But—but I was just reporting them!"

"And you could have done so in the morning," McGonagall said sternly. "Instead, you chose to break curfew, which means all four of you will serve detention."

Harry blinked in shock. "Malfoy's getting detention too?"

"I believe Mr. Cross has already made that clear," McGonagall said. "Now, as punishment, fifty points will be deducted from each of you."

Ron groaned, looking miserable. "Fifty points?! Each?"

Hermione, looking devastated, buried her face in her hands.

Malfoy, meanwhile, looked furious. "This isn't fair!"

Sal shrugged. "Maybe next time, you should think twice before trying to get someone else in trouble."

McGonagall ignored Malfoy's protests, waving them off. "I will inform you of your detention assignments soon. Now, all of you, back to your dormitories. Immediately."

Sal watched as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy reluctantly shuffled away, looking completely defeated.

As McGonagall turned to leave, she paused, glancing at Sal. "Good work, Mr. Cross."

Sal gave a small nod, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time he'd be dealing with Harry and his friends sneaking around after hours.

The next evening, the four students—Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco—were led by Filch out of the castle. Sal, as a prefect, had volunteered to oversee the detention as part of his assistant duties. He stood silently behind Professor McGonagall, watching as the students fidgeted under her stern gaze.

"You will all be serving detention in the Forbidden Forest," McGonagall said sharply.

"The Forbidden Forest?" Malfoy echoed, his face paling. "Professor, you can't be serious!"

"Quite serious, Mr. Malfoy," she replied curtly. "Perhaps you should have considered the consequences before breaking curfew."

Sal crossed his arms as Draco glared at him. He knew Malfoy was expecting special treatment, but McGonagall was nothing if not fair.

Filch gave a wicked grin, rubbing his hands together. "You'll be helping Hagrid with a little creature problem. If you come out alive, consider yourselves lucky."

Malfoy looked like he might faint. Ron swallowed nervously. Even Harry and Hermione looked uncertain.

"Sal, you'll go with them to make sure no one does anything foolish," McGonagall added, turning to him.

Sal gave a nod. "Understood, Professor."

"Good. Now, off you go."

Hagrid was already waiting at the edge of the darkened treeline, Fang at his side, holding a massive crossbow.

"Ah, good. You're 'ere," he rumbled. "We got somethin' dangerous lurkin' 'round these woods—a wounded unicorn. Nasty business."

Draco stiffened. "We're hunting a unicorn?"

Hagrid frowned. "We're lookin' for it, not huntin' it, Malfoy."

Sal felt a twinge of unease. A wounded unicorn was no small thing. Something powerful had attacked it.

"Right, we'll split up," Hagrid continued. "Me, Fang, an' Ron will take one side. Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, and Sal will take the other."

Sal sighed inwardly. Babysitting duty it is.

As they ventured into the thickening trees, Malfoy clutched his wand tightly, eyes darting to every shadow. Hermione and Harry walked ahead, whispering about Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone, which Sal pretended not to hear for now.

Then, suddenly—

A low, unnatural whisper curled through the trees.

Sal froze, his magic instinctively reacting. A coldness spread through the air, making his breath visible.

"Did you hear that?" Hermione whispered.

Before Sal could answer, a shape moved ahead—silver blood gleamed in the moonlight.

The unicorn lay dead on the ground.

And beside it—

A cloaked figure.

It raised its head, its face hidden, but Sal felt something wrong in the air, a pull of ancient darkness.

Harry gasped, clutching his scar as if in pain. Malfoy screamed and ran.

"Draco, get back here!" Sal barked, already drawing his wand.

The figure turned toward them, its movements unnatural, floating, its very presence sending a shiver down Sal's spine.

He stepped in front of Hermione and Harry, instinctively reaching for his magic, preparing to cast—

Then—

An arrow shot through the trees.

Hagrid burst through, crossbow raised. "GET AWAY FROM 'EM!" he bellowed.

The figure let out a horrifying screech before vanishing into the night, leaving behind only the dripping silver blood of the unicorn.

Hagrid checked on Harry, who was still holding his scar, pale and shaken.

"That was Voldemort," he said quietly.

Sal clenched his fists. He had felt something dark, something hungry.

"We need to tell the Headmaster," Sal said.

"Agreed," Hagrid nodded.

Draco stumbled back into the clearing, panting and shaking. "W-we should never have come here!" he stammered.

Sal turned to Malfoy, his voice calm but firm. "Now do you understand? This isn't just about house rivalries, Draco. There are bigger things happening."

Malfoy didn't answer.

Instead, he looked away.

As they left the forest, Sal knew one thing—

The real danger was just beginning.

After the incident in the Forbidden Forest, Sal knew he had to speak to Dumbledore. The memory of that figure, its unnatural presence, still clung to his mind like a shadow.

As soon as he returned to the castle, he made his way to the Headmaster's office, barely pausing to give the password ("Sherbet Lemon") before ascending the moving staircase.

When he entered, Dumbledore was already waiting, his piercing blue eyes watching Sal over his half-moon spectacles.

"Ah, Mr. Cross," Dumbledore greeted, his tone light but laced with something knowing. "I take it this is not a social visit?"

Sal took a deep breath. "It's about what happened in the Forbidden Forest, sir."

Dumbledore gestured to a plush chair in front of his desk. "Then by all means, sit and tell me everything."

Sal recounted the entire incident—the unicorn, the silver blood, and most importantly, the cloaked figure that sent chills through his very magic.

"When it turned to face us, I felt…" Sal hesitated, searching for the right words. "It was like it was draining something from the air, pulling at my magic itself."

Dumbledore's expression didn't change, but his fingers steepled together thoughtfully. "And you are certain it was no ordinary specter?"

Sal nodded. "This was different. It wasn't just evil, it was hungry."

Harry had been convinced it was Voldemort, but Sal wanted confirmation.

"Professor… was that truly him?"

Dumbledore sighed, his eyes momentarily drifting to Fawkes, who let out a soft trill.

"In a sense," Dumbledore finally answered, "what you encountered was a mere fragment, a shadow of the man who once called himself Tom Riddle."

Sal's fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. He had suspected Voldemort wasn't truly dead, but hearing it confirmed sent a shiver down his spine.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "That is a question I intend to answer in due time. But what matters now, Salazar, is that you trust your instincts. If you felt something unnatural in that presence, you were not mistaken."

Sal exhaled slowly, processing the implications. "If that thing is after the Sorcerer's Stone, then Harry's in danger."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, though not with amusement. "Indeed. And that is why we must be vigilant."

Sal's mind was already racing through possible courses of action.

"I can keep an eye on things," he offered. "If anything strange happens around the castle—"

Dumbledore raised a hand, stopping him. "I admire your willingness to take responsibility, Sal, but I must caution you. This is not a fight you can face alone."

Sal frowned. "I don't intend to fight it, Professor. I just don't want to be caught unaware."

Dumbledore studied him for a long moment before finally nodding. "A wise answer. However, you are more deeply tied to Hogwarts than you know, and there are… forces that may take an interest in you as well."

Sal's brow furrowed. "Sarah."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Ah, so you have spoken to her."

His heart skipped a beat. Dumbledore knew about Sarah.

Sal hesitated. He had sworn to keep her existence a secret, but if Dumbledore already knew, then—

"How long have you known?" Sal finally asked.

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "For quite some time. But I have never interfered. Sarah, you see, is quite capable of choosing her own friends."

Sal exhaled, relieved.

"Then you understand why I can't just sit back and do nothing," he said. "Sarah might be able to help."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps. But tread carefully, Mr. Cross. Hogwarts has always been a place of great power… and great secrets."

Sal stood, knowing their conversation was drawing to a close.

"I won't let anything happen to Hogwarts or my friends," he promised.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "That, Mr. Cross, is a very Hufflepuff thing to say."

Despite the tension in the air, Sal grinned. "I try my best."

As he left the office, the weight of the conversation settled on him.

Voldemort wasn't truly gone. Harry was in danger. And the secrets of Hogwarts were only beginning to reveal themselves.

It was time to prepare.