𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓

𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐑.

1994;

Late at night, the castle was shrouded in an eerie stillness, as if time itself had come to a halt. The chilling wind whispered through the corridors, carrying with it the faint echoes of melodies from the ballroom. A solitary crow, perched upon a weathered stone pedestal, its ebony feathers rustling in the breeze, seemed to be the only witness to the secrets hidden within those ancient walls.

Viola, undeterred by its presence, regarded the tome with nonchalance. Its dimensions, akin to a  gallon, hinted at its nascent existence. Unfazed, she continued along the path that guided her to the sanctum of her dormitory, where the night would cradle her in tranquil slumber.

That was until Viola heard the footsteps of another, a lantern drawing closer to her path. Squinting her eyes, she tried to catch a glimpse of who it was. In that moment, the little bird fluttered from its perch and descended to the ground, seemingly enticed by the crumbs it had spotted.

But alas, the little bird's delight was short-lived. As if a cruel twist of fate, Viola's ears caught the bone-crushing sound, and her eyes darted downward in a sudden realization. A heavy foot had inadvertently crushed the delicate creature, extinguishing its existence in an instant.

Filch nonchalantly remarked, "Well, that's unfortunate," as he casually shook his leg to rid himself of the remnants of the bird that had met its demise under his shoe.

"Professor Filch," Viola uttered with a hint of sarcasm, her eyes resisting the urge to roll at the sight of the man standing before her.

"Viola Black," Filch chimed, a wide grin stretching across his slender face. "Ah, just the girl I was looking for."

"Is that so?" inquired Viola, her brow arching inquisitively. The clock was nearing midnight, leaving her to wonder what purpose could bring him to her at such an hour.

Filch simply chuckled and disregarded her questions, stating, "You're coming with me."

Viola, her voice laced with suspicion, questioned Filch's request. "Why should I come with you? What on earth could you possibly need from me at this late hour?"

"Not me," replied Filch, his expression turning grave as he shook his head. "It's Professor Dumbledore who needs you."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Viola queried rhetorically, her voice tinged with a hint of confusion. "It's quite late, you know. Can't we simply address this matter tomorrow?"

"Breaching Dumbledore's requests?" Filch exclaimed, his expression turning sour. "Who do you think you are?"

"Viola Black, but that's besides the point, isn't it?" Viola retorted, her tone laced with a sharp edge.

Flich just scoffed in vexation, "You children, so full of arrogance. Now, come along."

Viola rolled her eyes at his words and securely walked ahead, saying, "I can find my own way, thank you."

And so she found herself venturing towards Dumbledore's office, a place she had only visited on two occasions. The first time was during her third year, and the second time was in her first year, accompanied by her grand-merè.

As her knuckle poised to tap upon the door, it swung open of its own accord, granting her an unobstructed glimpse into the chamber.