Chapter 303: The Time is Nigh
Luna felt the warm breeze that had been brushing against her left cheek suddenly vanish.
"If you turn the ancient script upside down, you can see they're actually spells for turning an enemy's ears into kumquats," Luna said, clutching her upside-down copy of The Quibbler. Her protuberant eyes drifted toward Sean. "Do you come here every day to listen to the earth snoring? It must be very well cared for by you if it's always purring like that."
Sean nodded slightly. In a way, Luna wasn't entirely wrong.
At the same time, he noticed that the radish-like earrings Luna usually wore were missing. He frowned.
"Oh, don't worry. The Nargles took them, but they'll turn up eventually," Luna said in her airy, musical voice. While her eyes were slightly bulged, they didn't ruin her delicate features; instead, they gave her a sort of ethereal, elfin appearance.
"Magical pests living in mistletoe, I take it?" Sean replied. He gave his wand a sharp flick, and several lost trinkets began to drift through the air, settling on the grass behind Luna.
"Yes..." Luna's voice was dreamy, her gaze just as unfocused. As she tilted her head, she spotted her returned belongings. "Look at that—the Nargles gave them back. It seems you've tamed them. Did you use mistletoe juice?"
"A wand," Sean answered. He let out a soft whistle for Snowy. The magnificent white owl glided down and settled on his shoulder. Luna stared at him without blinking, her gaze lingering on Tila, the Bowtruckle poking its head out of his pocket.
By the edge of the Black Lake, Sean paused. He looked out over the pale blue water, which currently acted as a massive mirror reflecting flocks of passing birds.
In this world, a wizard's eyes were like a mirror reflecting the self. Some wizards were blind to the malice they suffered because their internal mirror was as clear and pure as this lake.
"If you lose anything else, feel free to ask for my help," Sean said.
With that, he turned and left the shore.
Following the sloping lawn, Sean made his way to the vegetable patch behind Hagrid's hut. Twelve massive pumpkins sat there, swelling by the day. In the Muggle world, no one had ever seen pumpkins this large; each was easily half the height of a man.
"There yeh are! Come in, come in—have some treacle fudge, fresh off the stove!"
Hagrid was as boisterous as ever. He had visited the Fairy Tale Workshop just two days ago. The place had been a madhouse; wizards were practically dueling over the last few boxes of biscuits. Fortunately, Hagrid had "VIP access." Professor Quirrell had ushered him in through the back door—largely because Hagrid was big enough to block the front entrance entirely if he stood there too long.
"Lookit me little beauties, growin' well, ain't they?" Hagrid said proudly, noticing Sean eyeing the pumpkins. "For the Halloween feast—they'll be massive by then. Yeh want to help me carve 'em when the time comes? I'll make sure yeh get a few for yerself. Think on it—put one in yer Room of Hope or yer dorm, and it'll glow all term without sleepin'."
Sean nodded. For a wizard, such a task was simple enough.
Hagrid's treacle fudge was notoriously cement-like. Sean took a tiny bite and felt his jaw nearly lock. He looked over at Fang, who was currently pawing at his mouth and breathing heavily in an attempt to dislodge a piece... Sean figured he'd fared better than the dog.
The warm autumn sun began to sink, hanging over the tops of the beech trees. Sean stepped out of the hut, intending to finish his final ten proficiency points for the day. Since starting his Material Transfiguration practice, he rarely used his broom to get around; the walk back to the castle provided a perfect training ground.
[Alert: You have practiced Material Transfiguration at the standard of an Entry-level Master. Master-level Proficiency +3]
The ground rippled rhythmically under his feet, and stones rose and fell in various patterns. As Sean walked, the Forbidden Forest seemed to pulse with life around him.
Suddenly, Sean felt a searing heat against his chest. He whipped out the Project Map. The dots labeled "Basilisk" and "Alchem-Toad" were moving with frantic speed.
Sean's brow furrowed. He raised a hand, and his broom flew from the castle, landing in his palm like a bolt of lightning. The Soul Hallow should have significantly weakened Voldemort's influence... so what had happened?
The broom streaked across the sky like a falling star. Below, the castle was still bustling with the sounds of students.
In the second-floor girls' bathroom, a figure shimmered into existence as if shedding an Invisibility Cloak. According to the map, Ginny was safely in Gryffindor Tower. Yet, the Basilisk and the Alchem-Toads were practically on top of Sean's position.
Without a Parselmouth to command it, how was the Basilisk active? Or had it simply never returned to its slumber since being awakened? It had to eat, after all. In its hunt for prey, anything was possible.
Sean adjusted his Refraction Spectacles and stared at the seemingly ordinary sink.
"Mr. Green!"
A voice drifted from the stalls.
"Oh... I've been thinking... If you happen to die, you're more than welcome to share this toilet with me," Moaning Myrtle said, her translucent face flushing a silvery-white with bashfulness.
Ghosts lacked traditional logic; Sean had long since stopped being surprised by what they said.
"My, I never imagined anyone could make Peeves behave," Myrtle prattled on. "Only people like Professor Dumbledore can do that... such important people..."
As Myrtle rambled, Sean studied the map. The Basilisk was hovering nearby, lurking in the pipes. It seemed to be hunting in the vicinity before turning back. The Chamber was vast, but for a creature of that size, a few rats wouldn't sustain it for long. It was bound to emerge soon.
"Preparations are... almost complete," Sean murmured. He turned to leave, intending to find the Sorting Hat.
Meanwhile, in the corridor a floor below.
Harry Potter suddenly stiffened, a cold shiver running down his spine.
"...rip you... tear you... kill you..."
It was that voice again. The cold, murderous whisper he had heard in Lockhart's office. He stumbled to a halt, leaning against the stone wall. He strained his ears, his eyes darting around the dim hallway, searching the shadows above and below.
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ron asked, looking confused.
"That voice... it's back. Stay quiet—"
"...so hungry... for so long..."
"Listen!" Harry urged. Ron and Hermione froze, staring at him in alarm.
The voice was growing fainter, but Harry was certain it was moving—upward. He stared at the dark ceiling, a mixture of terror and adrenaline surging through him. How could it move through the stone? Was it a ghost?
As he puzzled over it, he saw a silhouette blur past them in the shadows, moving with purpose.
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you