Ron sidled up to Harry as they left the Great Hall. "Best day ever."
Harry wasn't so sure. His hair still felt gritty from the glitter storm, and he swore the stuff had somehow gotten into his shoes. Every step crunched faintly like he was walking on sand. He rubbed at his temple, where a faint purple smudge still refused to come off.
Behind them, the hall was still buzzing with aftershocks. Ravenclaws were loudly debating whether glitter counted as a "magical hazard," with Terry Boot insisting it was "practically a cursed object." A knot of Slytherins sulked in the corner, Malfoy in particular red-faced and muttering threats about letters to his father. A couple of Hufflepuffs had gathered up a pile of the abandoned slime and were trying to see if it could be repurposed into a stress ball.
By the time they climbed through the portrait hole into Gryffindor Tower, the prank war had already transformed into legend. The common room was loud, the air buzzing with laughter and retellings that grew more exaggerated by the minute. Neville's stumble had become a heroic dive to "save" Seamus, who now claimed he'd been "seconds away" from being crushed by Crabbe. Lavender swore she'd seen sparks shoot out of Peeves's kazoo, which was not even remotely true, but nobody cared.
"Best. Battle. Ever." Fred announced, standing on a chair. George nodded beside him, solemn as a judge. "We hereby declare this day to be remembered as the Great Glitter Calamity."
Cheers went up, though someone in the back shouted, "It was more of a disaster than a battle!" which only made the twins grin wider.
Harry dropped onto the sofa beside Hermione, who was still plucking flecks of green sludge out of her hair with the kind of tight-lipped disapproval only she could pull off. "Honestly," she huffed, "you'd think people would get tired of laughing at this sort of thing."
But even she cracked a smile when Seamus accidentally sneezed and puffed out a cloud of glitter dust, coating Dean's eyebrows gold.
For a little while, Hogwarts felt exactly as it always did—chaotic, noisy, ridiculous. Harry leaned back into the cushions and let the warmth of the fire soak into him. Maybe, just maybe, things were actually calming down.
For now.
But deep under the castle, there was nothing calm at all.
The lowest dungeons faded into silence, the torches thinning out until even the rats didn't dare scurry across the stone. Past a wall hidden by centuries of crumbling rock, a narrow stairway spiraled down into air that smelled of earth and iron. Few living souls even suspected it existed. Those who had stumbled into it by accident had never been seen again.
The hooded figure moved like someone who belonged there, every step deliberate, every shadow welcoming. Their boots left no echo, though water dripped steadily from cracks above, plinking into dark puddles that rippled with each drop. They passed a half-collapsed arch where strange carvings writhed across the surface—symbols older than Hogwarts itself. The figure traced one with a gloved finger and the rune flared briefly red, then sank back into the stone, like a heartbeat going still.
Finally they reached it: a massive slab of rock set into the wall, not a door so much as a seal. Its surface was lined with runes that pulsed faintly like veins under skin, alive and waiting. The air here was thick, humming faintly, like the room itself was holding back a breath.
The figure crouched, pale hands pulling back their hood just enough to reveal a sharp grin in the faint light. They pressed a palm against the stone. The runes flared in response, bathing the chamber in a blood-red glow that made the walls twist with long shadows.
"Almost awake," the figure whispered, their voice low, like a secret meant only for the stone. "They laugh above us. They play their games, blind as ever. And the boy… the boy thinks luck will keep him safe."
The glow brightened, flickering like fire, before dimming again to a faint pulse. Whatever was sealed behind the stone stirred faintly—too faint for words, but not too faint for intent.
The hooded figure chuckled quietly, the sound curling through the chamber like smoke. Then they turned and melted back into the darkness, leaving only the faint hiss of dripping water and the whisper of the runes fading into silence.
Up above, in Gryffindor Tower, Seamus's latest firecracker went off inside a mug of cocoa, spraying marshmallows across the room. Fred and George immediately declared it "a new discovery in beverage science." Everyone roared with laughter.
For the students, life went back to normal.
But beneath their feet, the castle was holding its breath.
.....
Give me all your stones, 100 for extra chapter after I catch up :)