March had crept upon Hogwarts in a quiet, unassuming way. The snow had melted into soft mist curling over the grounds, and the first timid signs of spring were beginning to show through the frost-kissed windows. For the Secret Seekers, another month had passed in a blur of parchment, ink, and whispered knowledge.
Every weekend, like clockwork, the group met in their QG. Their forbidden ventures into the Restricted Section had become a careful routine: once a week, disillusioned and hushed, they slipped past the library's defenses and returned with new tomes that hadn't been opened in decades.
Some books whispered when touched. Others refused to open unless coaxed with just the right spell. There were volumes of controversial magical theory, obscure arithmantic philosophies, even dusty grimoires on ancient magical ethics.
"It's like each one is alive in its own way," Evangeline had remarked one evening, her fingers tracing runes that shimmered faintly under candlelight.
As the weeks passed, their knowledge deepened. Theories sparked debates, discoveries fueled more questions, and slowly, a new idea took shape—one that belonged entirely to them.
"We should write our own book," Louis had said during one late-night session, eyes bright with excitement. "A manual. A real one. Our theories, our hypotheses. Everything we've pieced together."
Cho raised an eyebrow. "You mean like... publish it?"
"Not yet. But record it, at least. Something structured. Our own magical doctrine."
Charles leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Well, you're not thinking small, as usual."
Evangeline nodded thoughtfully. "It makes sense. If we're discovering this much at our age, it's worth documenting. It could be the foundation of something... bigger."
And so they began.
Over the next weeks, every spare moment after classes and clubs was dedicated to compiling their discoveries. They organized sections—magical emotion theory, intuitive spellcraft, magical resonance, reinterpretations of Rowena Serdaigle's structure, and more. Each chapter was a blend of personal insight and collaborative refinement. They challenged each other's wording, rephrased unclear points, and debated the implications of each magical idea.
"Your paragraph here is brilliant," Cho told Charles during one editing session, "but if we link it with Louis's feedback loop theory, it creates a more cohesive model."
Charles shrugged modestly. "Then let's do it."
Their teamwork was a harmony of minds. Louis, with his intuitive grasp of magic, often proposed bold concepts. Evangeline and Cho balanced them with structured reasoning and caution. Charles, with his experience and sharp logic, connected the dots and grounded wild ideas in magical law.
Meanwhile, Louis remained in frequent contact with Fleur. Every day, even through the thickest schedules, they spoke through their link—sharing thoughts, laughter, and encouragement. One evening, as he worked on a particularly complex section about subconscious magical intent, he reached out to her.
"I'm a little stuck," he confessed mentally. "Trying to explain this concept of magic following the mind's instinct without overcomplicating it."
"Let me read it," Fleur replied. Her presence in his mind was soothing, like a warm breeze cutting through the castle's cold.
She read silently for a moment. "It's lovely. But maybe start with a metaphor. Magic flowing like water. Guided but natural."
Louis smiled. "That's quite brilliant."
He took her advice and rewrote the section, weaving in the imagery Fleur had suggested. It became one of the most elegant passages in the manual.
He also sought help from a far more senior mind.
One quiet Thursday afternoon, Louis requested a meeting with Dumbledore. Sitting across from the Headmaster in his grand circular office, beneath whirring devices and ancient portraits, Louis unfolded their work-in-progress.
Dumbledore perused the manuscript slowly, his fingers brushing the pages with reverence.
"This," he said finally, "is the work of minds not content with merely learning magic—but understanding it. You may be another Rowena."
Louis flushed with pride. "Thank you, sir. But some of these ideas… they go beyond what we've seen taught. I was hoping you could look over a few of them."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "It would be an honor."
They discussed theory for nearly an hour—constructs of magical empathy, the fusion of logical and emotional intent, and whether certain types of spells might evolve through subconscious usage over time.
"Your thoughts on intuitive magic are daring," Dumbledore mused. "But perhaps not wrong. Magic has always had a heart as well as a mind."
By the end of their meeting, Louis had new questions and clearer directions. He returned to the Room of Requirement glowing with energy.
As the final weekend before the spring break approached, the Secret Seekers gathered for one last session. They finalized another chapter and sealed the enchanted compartments where their collected works now lay safe.
Evangeline stretched and sighed. "Time for a break, I guess. I need to start revising properly for exams."
"Me too," Cho agreed. "Though I'll miss these meetings."
They laughed and exchanged warm goodbyes, promising to meet again after the two-week Easter holiday.
As they left the Room of Requirement, Louis lingered a bit longer, gazing around at their study, at what they had built together. He could feel the echo of their discussions in the air, the weight of shared purpose. A part of him never wanted to leave.
But something else called to him—someone.
That evening, Fleur appeared at the gates of the grand De Versailles estate in France. The sunlight hit her hair like molten gold, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Louis stood waiting just outside the gates, heart racing. The moment their eyes met, the weeks apart melted away.
"You're late," he teased gently.
Fleur rolled her eyes. "You're lucky I'm here at all."
But she smiled, and in the next moment, they embraced, warmth blooming between them.
"Ready for a week of peace?" Louis asked.
"With you? Never peaceful," she replied, taking his hand.
Together, they stepped into the manor.