Hogwarts always had secrets. Hallie had long accepted this, the way one accepts that the wind rustles leaves or that magic sometimes misbehaves. But there were some secrets that didn't just hide—they waited.
And it seemed one had been waiting for her.
It began with a strange clock in the library.
Hallie and Luna had been doing research for fun—a practice that had become their shared hobby. While browsing through a quiet, dust-heavy wing filled with forgotten magical theory, Hallie's eyes caught on a small silver dial embedded in the stone above a bookcase.
It wasn't like the castle's other clocks.
Its hands ticked backward.
And beneath the dial, etched in runes older than Hogwarts itself, were five words:
"Where the path was changed."
Hallie stepped closer. As she did, her scar—long dormant in this world—gave a faint thrill. Not pain. Not danger. But awareness.
"Luna," she said softly, "this clock isn't just counting time. It's… reversing it."
Luna was already at her side, tilting her head. "A backward pendulum spell. Very rare. Usually only found near magical events that shouldn't have happened."
Hallie's voice went quiet. "Like me being here."
Luna didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she took Hallie's hand and placed it flat against the stone just beneath the clock.
And something unlocked.
The wall shimmered, and a portion of it rippled outward like water, revealing a hidden alcove. Inside was a single framed painting—not moving like the other magical portraits. Still. Old.
A woman with copper-bright hair, delicate features, and eyes so achingly familiar Hallie almost stopped breathing.
Her mother.
But younger. And smiling.
She wasn't looking at the viewer. She was gazing down at a tiny bundle in her arms—something small, swaddled in a green blanket. Her expression was full of love. Fierce, protective, and knowing.
There was a plaque beneath the frame:
"Lily Potter. Guardian of the Chosen Unwritten."
Hallie's knees felt suddenly weak.
"Luna," she whispered, "this—this wasn't in any version of the world I knew."
Luna's fingers slipped into hers, grounding her.
"No," Luna said softly. "Because this is a world she helped make."
Hallie stared, heart thudding.
"You think she did this?"
"I think someone gave you a second life, Hallie," Luna said, voice quiet but sure. "And maybe it wasn't just for your sake. Maybe it was for hers too."
That night, Hallie sat on the edge of her bed in the soft blue moonlight of the Ravenclaw dorms, the image of her mother's painting burned into her mind.
She could still feel the warmth of Luna's hand. Still hear her voice:
"The Chosen Unwritten."
What did it mean?
A world without prophecy.
A world where love—her mother's love, perhaps even fate's love—rewrote what should have happened.
Maybe she had died in another life.
But in this one, someone had reached through the veil of time and caught her.
And placed her here.
In this softer story.
This second chance.
Where Luna waited.