James woke to a snowy morning. The entire castle was blanketed in white—the first snow of winter.
It stretched as far as the eye could see, glittering orange and purple in the early light of dawn. The sun was rising, casting a soft glow over the shimmering snow.
Inside, the dorms were already awake. Students milled about in their rooms, groggy from sleep but buzzing with excitement at the snowfall.
James sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. For a few moments, he stared blankly ahead—then it hit him.
The memory.
A rush of panic surged through him.
"Oh no—what happened to them?" he gasped, leaping out of bed.
A sharp pain shot through his right arm. "Ouch!"
He looked down—and froze.
Runes.
Golden ones, etched into his skin like ink made of fire. They stretched from the back of his hand all the way to his shoulder. They looked almost identical to the ones on his wand.
He held his arm up, inspecting them.
"What is this…?"
As he stood beside his bed, the runes suddenly flared to life, glowing a deep green. A burning sensation coursed through his hand—intense, like fire spreading under his skin.
And then—
Just as suddenly as they appeared—
The runes vanished.
James blinked, breathing hard.
He shook his head. I have to find the professor. I have to tell someone.
Without another thought, he rushed out of the room.
In the common room, Annie looked up from her book. "James? Where are you off to?"
But James didn't respond. He darted past her and out into the corridor.
He moved fast through the castle's winding halls, taking a sharp corner—
Bam!
He collided hard with someone.
"Ouch! Watch where you're going!" a girl snapped, staggering backward.
James reached down to help her up—
And froze.
His blood ran cold.
It was her.
The girl from the cages.
The one with missing hair, the one who warned him to run.
But she looked fine now—no bruises, no blood. Just… confused.
James stumbled back, eyes wide, hands shaking.
Her voice—when she spoke—it was the same.
"Are you alright?" she asked, tilting her head.
His mind was spinning. What is this? Is it real? Is it her?
James lunged forward and grabbed her shoulders.
"Hey—you! How did you escape? Where are the others?" His voice trembled. "Where are they?!"
She looked at him, alarmed. "Let go of me—what are you talking about?"
"I mean the room! The cages—the monster—the ch—"
"Leave me alone!" she snapped, yanking free. "You're scaring me."
James stood there, stunned.
His heart thundered in his chest.
Was it her? Or was it just someone who looked like her?
Whatever the answer was—he needed to find it.
"I'm going!" snapped the girl, brushing herself off. She looked genuinely angry as she stormed away, leaving James frozen in place, stunned.
As she passed, a cat nearby began screeching and hissing at her.
"Meow… hisssss!"
James's thoughts spiraled.
"Wait—what is going on? She's supposed to be dead. I saw her! Something's not right…"
He turned and bolted down the corridor.
"I have to find the professor!"
"Professor! Professor—I need to talk to you!" James burst into Professor Henry's office.
But instead of the professor, it was the headmistress who turned to face him.
"Yes, Arcturus? What's with all the ruckus?" she asked, her tone sharp and cold.
James froze. Panic gripped him. He couldn't speak.
"Oh… it's nothing major, Professor," he stammered. "Just… a spell I've been practicing. I'll wait outside."
He backed out hastily and shut the door behind him.
Moments later, the headmistress exited. As she passed James, she gave him a long, suspicious look—but said nothing.
Then the professor's voice called from inside."Well? Come in, Arcturus."
James stepped back in. "Professor… the passageways," he gasped. "I saw students. Hurt students."
Professor Henry's face darkened.
"I warned you, boy…" he muttered under his breath—too softly for James to hear.
"Show me," the professor said, rising slowly. He picked up a silver-handled cane beside his massive desk, which bore intricate lion carvings.
The two of them made their way through the castle, down winding corridors until they reached a pair of armored knight statues facing one another near the hall.
Professor Henry, now wearing red gloves, removed one and raised the back of his hand to the nearest statue.
The statue nodded. Both knights stepped aside in perfect unison.
The wall behind them creaked open, revealing the dark passageway once more.
James didn't flinch. Not anymore."This castle is full of secrets. That's just how it is," he thought grimly as they stepped into the shadows.
"Now, give me your hand, boy," the professor said, his tone sharp and commanding.
James obeyed without hesitation. Professor Henry gripped James's wrist with his right hand, and pressed his left gently to James's forehead.
"Ah… I see…" the professor murmured, his eyes flicking back and forth as if reading something invisible. "Through here and there, then—"
Suddenly, James's legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, panting.
"You overused your soul yesterday," the professor muttered, his voice tinged with concern. "I can't get the full picture… Your essence is too drained. What kind of spell did this to you?"
He sighed heavily. "Well then, I'll see the place for myself."
The professor turned and began walking. He moved with purpose—clearly familiar with the secret passageways. James followed close behind, the tunnels growing darker with each turn.
Eventually, they reached a familiar place.
James gasped.
There it was—a shattered archway—the very same broken gate from before.
Beyond it… the door.
Or at least, where it should have been.
They stepped through.
"Stay behind me," Professor Henry ordered, raising his cane. With a swift twist, it transformed into a wand.
"Lumos."
The tip of his wand flared to life, casting long shadows across the stone walls.
But where the monstrous door had once stood… there was now only solid stone.
"No… No, no, no. This can't be," the professor muttered. "They can't move this fast."
He pulled a small pouch from his coat, opened it, and scattered a fine white powder across the floor. The dust caught in the light—and shimmered.
The powder began to swirl, forming ghostly images in midair.
A scene unfolded: James, walking toward the wall… disappearing through it.
Then another: James stumbling back out, bruised and shaking.
The images dissipated.
"Tell me everything," the professor said quietly.
James nodded and began to recount the entire ordeal—everything from the imprisoned children to the girl he'd bumped into in the hallway.
When he finished, the professor fell silent.
"I see," he finally said, his voice colder than before.
"Let's leave."
They walked in silence. The professor muttered spells under his breath as they retraced their steps, his wand weaving through the air, undoing traces of their presence.
Finally, they reached the exit.
"That should do it. No one will know we were here," the professor said.
Then—he turned his wand on James.
"Professor? What are you doing?" James gasped, backing away.
"You're too young to be involved in any of this. You shouldn't carry such memories."
The wand glowed bright white.
"Forget," the professor whispered.
A blinding flash.
Then silence.
James stood alone in the corridor—dazed, blinking slowly. His heartbeat slowed. His head ached.
And he couldn't remember… why he had come here at all.
'Wait… why am I standing here?' James thought to himself, confused."Oh, right. I was going ice skating today. I should probably get my gear."
He turned a corner and headed back to his common room. He was quick—within minutes, he had gathered everything and was on his way to the Great Hall.
The hall buzzed with chatter. Its ceiling was enchanting—perfect spheres of flame floated above the children, each glowing in different shades. Above them, large crystals hovered, catching the firelight and scattering it like starlight. It looked as if the stars themselves had settled inside the castle. What's more, the flames kept the entire hall warm.
James scanned the room, looking for Johnny. But… he was nowhere to be found.
Johnny was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. He never missed breakfast.
"Aye, Remus—have you seen Johnny by chance?" James asked.
"Haven't seen him since this morning," Remus answered, his voice soft and barely audible. He was so lazy he barely moved, let alone spoke.
"It's unlike him to skip breakfast," James muttered, rising from the table.
"Maybe he's helping one of the professors with something," Remus added, sipping his tea.
"Yeah, maybe," said Naftali, who was busy brushing a black cat perched on the table.
James left the Great Hall and made his way down the castle passages. The walls were ancient—some of the stones looked cracked, as if they'd once been struck by something heavy.
He eventually reached the bathrooms.
The bath chamber was enormous, almost like a small swimming pool. Dozens of taps lined the walls, each designed to produce a different magical effect.
James wandered past the main bath and toward the changing room.
As he neared the door, he froze.
There was a sound.
A groan. Someone… in pain?
"Johnny? Is that you?" James called out, inching closer.
The groaning grew louder—but no voice answered.
James's heart pounded. He stretched out his hand to open the door—
"What are you doing sneaking around, James?"
"AHH!" James yelled, leaping back and banging his forehead into the door.
"Ouch—bloody hell, where did you come from, Dorian!?"
Dorian stood beside the bath, grinning. "I've been here the whole time. Saw you walk right past me while I was soaking."
James exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "Have you seen Johnny? He's been missing since morning. I thought I heard a voice from the changing room, so I came to check."
"I've been here the whole time. Haven't seen or heard anyone. You're probably just hearing things," Dorian replied, placing a hand on James's shoulder.
James frowned. "Still... I'm going to check, just in case."
He reached for the handle and opened the door.
A huge gust of wind burst out from the changing room, almost knocking them backward.
James stared.
"Where did that come from?" he muttered. "There aren't any windows in the changing room… are there?"
James entered the room, followed closely by Dorian.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Dorian called out.
"Ahh!"A sharp cry echoed through the chamber. Both boys froze, glancing around.
"I think it came from the steam room," Dorian muttered.
They rushed toward the foggy doorway. James pushed the heavy steam aside with his hands as they entered. The air was thick and wet, blinding.
Slowly, the mist began to clear.
And then they saw it.
At the far end of the room, lying motionless on one of the benches, was a boy. He was groaning in pain.
"Johnny? Is that you?" James called out, stepping closer.
"But with each step, his heart sank—then a wave of relief washed over him… only to be replaced by dread once more. It wasn't Johnny—but it was still someone, and they were badly hurt."
The boy had brown hair and skin as pale as death. His body was covered in deep, bloody cuts. And worst of all—
His eyes were wide open.Completely white.Turned inside out.
To Be Continued...