Chapter 3: The Outcasts
The sunlit courtyard of Hogwarts was a beautiful lie. Beneath the warmth of the autumn light, the air was thick with tension. It was a quiet morning, a perfect time for a walk, and he saw Enid strolling alone. Then, he saw him. Draco Malfoy. And his lackeys.
"Look, it's the little half-breed," Draco sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "Lost your freak friends?"
Enid flinched, her happy expression crumbling. A rage, cold and sharp, ignited in Leo's gut. He raised his hand, an invisible command rippling out.
"Leave her alone," he said, his voice flat.
Before Draco could respond, the sky darkened. A flock of ravens, dozens of them, descended from the sky, their wings flapping chaotically. They dove, cawing loudly, their movements a synchronized chaos. Draco and his gang stumbled back, shielding their faces as the birds swarmed around them.
[BIRDS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TO… OH WAIT, THAT'S JUST CHAOS.]
He stifled a laugh, a small smirk on his face.
"Chaos my specialty," he muttered to himself.
The birds scattered as quickly as they appeared, leaving Draco and his cronies spitting feathers and looking ridiculous.
Enid, her hand squeezing his arm, looked at him with a mix of shock and gratitude.
"That was… amazing." Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were wide.
The shared moment, the chaotic noise of the birds and Draco's outraged shouts, solidified a sense of solidarity.
The Iago Tower common room was their sanctuary. The barriers hummed with a low, protective magic, a stark contrast to the taunts that echoed in the main halls. The space was a perfect blend of Hogwarts grandeur and Nevermore gothic charm, with twisting vines, psychic-warded mirrors, and old oak beds.
The Outcasts were all there. Wednesday, her face an unreadable mask. Agnes, her usual mischievous self. Lila, her competitive edge slightly softened. Leo spread the map he'd found in the Restricted Section on the table, the old parchment rustling softly.
Wednesday's eyes were distant. "The ruins… they call to me. I see a shadow… a man… Thorne." Her words were a solemn prophecy, and Leo knew she was seeing a vision.
"So, we have a map to a hidden chamber, a sketchy Ministry conspiracy, and a stalker who haunts ruins," Leo summarized. "What's our move?"
Agnes snapped her fingers, a small illusion of a vial popping into existence. "Truth potion for Draco? Priceless." The group chuckled, the tension easing slightly.
Leo, a thought solidifying in his mind, looked at the group.
"We need to be bigger than this. We need to be a force for change. We need an alliance." He looked at Enid, and then back at the group. "Hermione's smart. Let's get her on our side. Library meet?"
Enid nudged him playfully. "Good idea, crush." The flirtation was open now, a playful acceptance of the new dynamic. The group nodded in agreement.
The library alcove was their war room. The towering bookshelves, smelling of old paper and leather, were their fortifications. The warmth from the fireplace was a welcome comfort, a stark contrast to the cold hatred they faced daily.
Hermione, at first, had been wary. "Hashtag Outcast Pride? What's a hashtag?"
Leo explained it to her, his voice patient. "It's a Muggle thing. A symbol of unity. It's like… a rallying cry."
Hermione's eyes lit up, her mind already working. "Intriguing… a Muggle concept… we can adapt it. We could have a rally. We could have all the Outcasts stand together, show them we're not afraid."
[PLEASE DON'T BRING MUGGLE SLANG INTO MAGIC. IT'S BAD ENOUGH HERE.]
Leo smirked at the System's message.
"Slang revolution," he muttered, enjoying the irony.
Their research took them deeper. They found a sketch of a creature, a Beast Echo, that looked suspiciously like a hydra. And then, the jackpot. A sketch of the creature, a Beast Echo, that looked suspiciously like the one in his vision, and a reference to a cure. They were so close.
"What if the rally made things worse? What if it fueled the fire of prejudice?"
Enid, sensing his hesitation, squeezed his hand. "We got this," she whispered, her eyes full of fierce determination. He squeezed back.
[RALLIES ARE CUTE. RIOTS? LESS SO. GOOD LUCK, KID.]
The System's final warning was a sober reminder of the stakes. This wasn't a game. But looking at the faces around him, his new allies, his new friends, he knew it was a risk they had to take. Hope solidified in the plans they were making. The first step was to unite. The next was to find the truth. He knew it was time for action, for a journey into the dark heart of the mystery.
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