"Unbelievable! You're out wandering the castle on the second night of term!"
Outside the Hufflepuff common room, near the corner by the kitchens, torchlight flickered on the walls, casting the shadows of two figures that swayed like dancing ghosts.
Cedric stared at Adam, his eyes brimming with concern and a hint of disappointment. He couldn't help but scold him. "If Filch or one of the professors catches you, you'll likely end up in detention."
"Just last term, the Weasley twins from Gryffindor spent three whole weeks polishing trophies in the Trophy Room every evening."
Adam glanced down at his neatly tied shoelaces and the faint grass stains on his shoes. "Before you lecture me, you might want to fix your own appearance. Unless, of course, you were grabbing a midnight snack from the kitchens with a sandwich and hot cocoa… and just happened to detour through the Quidditch pitch."
Cedric's gaze darted nervously, suddenly finding the portraits on the wall fascinating. "I'm just worried you're heading down a path of breaking school rules," he muttered.
Adam raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked softly. "If you're just out for a snack, then that Firebolt leaning against the corner must belong to someone else. We should probably pick it up and hand it to Professor Sprout tomorrow."
He reached for the broom hidden by a large wooden barrel. A quick glance revealed the sleek design and the Nimbus logo etched at the top. "A Nimbus 1500, no less. The owner must be frantic."
As Adam made to stuff the broom into his small coin pouch, Cedric quickly grabbed his arm, his voice growing flustered. "Er… I think the owner's probably nearby. Why don't I wait here for them?"
Under Adam's increasingly sharp gaze, Cedric finally admitted, "Alright, fine. I was practicing at the Quidditch pitch…"
"With tryouts for the Hufflepuff team coming up, the pitch is packed during the day, and flying lessons don't give me enough time. I'm not like the Weasleys…"
Suddenly, two pairs of arms draped over Cedric's shoulders, making him jump.
"Did I just hear someone mention the Weasleys, Fred?"
"I think I did, George. Mr. Cedric Diggory, did you hear that voice too?"
George and Fred spoke in playful unison, grinning as beads of sweat formed on Cedric's forehead.
"Alright, enough stalling," Adam interrupted softly. He raised his wand and, with a flick, transformed their scarves into Slytherin green and silver.
"Wait, why do I have to come along?" Cedric asked, staring blankly at his new scarf.
"Because you're here, and you've seen us. Let's move," Adam replied.
George and Fred flanked Cedric, dragging him along as they followed Adam through the common room passage and into the dimly lit Entrance Hall.
On the ever-shifting staircases of Hogwarts, Adam led the way, pausing abruptly as the others looked at him in confusion. Seconds later, the staircase lurched, switching to a new direction.
Starting and stopping, they reached the fourth floor in under five minutes. Cedric, eyeing the familiar suit of armor in the corridor, couldn't help but ask, "When did you figure out the pattern of the staircases?"
Every young witch or wizard at Hogwarts knew the staircases seemed to have a mind of their own, often taking you to the farthest possible place when you were in a rush. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in the castle towers were especially familiar with first-years dashing frantically, only to end up lost in the maze of moving steps. Even older students had to study the staircases' patterns before daring to climb.
"Let's just say I did my homework," Adam said, brushing it off. "Come on, keep up."
Last time he'd visited the Otherworld, a Ravenclaw professor had handed him a piece of parchment, only to shoo him out of her study with a scowl soon after. That parchment detailed the castle's staircases—likely the original blueprints. The runic structures were more complex than any alchemical artifact Adam had ever seen, even in the books gifted by Nicolas Flamel. But he'd managed to decipher the marked sections about the staircases' movements and a few routes from Ravenclaw Tower to other parts of the castle. Not that he needed those now.
Adam led them through the corridor to a statue of a one-eyed, hunchbacked witch.
"Hang on, that's not the Marauder's Map, is it?" George said, noticing the parchment in Adam's hand. The crisp paper showed only lines, no dots or names.
"I made it based on the Marauder's Map. Hopefully, it works," Adam replied. He tapped his wand on specific spots behind the statue, revealing a hidden passage.
"Where does this lead?" Cedric asked, bewildered, while Fred's eyes lit up.
"So this is where you're headed! George and I have been dying to check it out, but we never got the chance last term."
Cedric's confusion deepened, but as the trio disappeared into the passage, he gritted his teeth and followed.
In the dim passage, only the soft glow from their wand tips lit the way, their footsteps echoing. Adam moved slowly, scanning every corner. Under George's twitching gaze, he even picked up a few wriggling doxies from the floor and slipped them into a small vial.
"Wait," George said, incredulous. "Is your grand plan to drag us through Hogwarts' secret passages to catch bugs?"
"This passage might lead to Hogsmeade," Adam said casually. "Aren't you curious about the taste of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?"
Fred chimed in, "Or the sweets at Honeydukes? I'm out of Fizzing Whizbees."
"What?!" Cedric's jaw dropped. "There's a passage from the castle to Hogsmeade?"
George sighed. "I thought Fred's hint was obvious enough."
"But…" Cedric hesitated. "Did you bring any money? I just came from the pitch. All I've got is my broom."
His words froze the twins' grins. They exchanged a glance, then said in unison:
"Did you bring any?"
"I thought you knew Adam was headed here."
"Found it!" Adam called out suddenly.
In the glow of their wands, he bent down and picked up a single hair, placing it carefully on his parchment. The hair vanished, replaced by a red dot moving slowly across the castle map.
Adam pulled out the Marauder's Map for comparison. George leaned in, gasping. "No way—Filch?"
Cedric whipped around, half-expecting to see the caretaker's lantern, but sighed in relief when he saw nothing. "How could Filch have been here? Could you have gotten it wrong?" Fred asked, frowning.
As they crouched, studying the maps, Cedric tapped their shoulders, his voice tense. "Did you hear that?"
"No, and you don't need to be so paranoid about Filch. The map shows him on the seventh floor," George said, patting Cedric's shoulder.
"No, I'm serious. Listen—" Cedric whispered urgently, pointing to the shadows of the passage.
Crack… crack…
George and Fred froze, their smiles fading. They exchanged a glance, ears straining as a chill ran down their spines.
Crack… A low, eerie sound echoed again, like rusted gears grinding over bone, dripping with a damp, sticky menace.
The faint snap of breaking twigs came from the shadows, not just growing closer or farther but as if something scaly and monstrous was slithering toward them.
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