Forbidden Request

Chapter Eleven: Secrets In The Stacks

As soon as we landed just outside Hogwarts' gates, my knees nearly buckled beneath me, but I caught myself. Professor Fig steadied me with a firm hand on my arm, his brow creased in worry.

"Are you alright?" His voice was tinged with concern, but there was no time to rest.

I nodded, still trying to process everything—the strange pensive, the images of the drought, and Ranrok. His face, twisted with malice, was burned into my mind.

Fig said, straightening up, his own features tightened with determination. "Ranrok knows you're connected to something powerful, and I fear he won't stop until he gets what he wants."

"What is it that he wants?" I asked, voice trembling. "Why me? Why now?"

Fig frowned as we started up the path toward the castle. "I'm not sure. But the magic you've seen, the connection to that ancient artifact, it's something he's been searching for a long time. Whatever is hidden in those memories... it's dangerous."

The walk to the castle felt longer than usual, as though the looming presence of what had just happened made everything feel heavier. My head spun with thoughts of Isidora Morganach, the strange magic in the pensive, and the eerie feeling that there was so much more to this than I could comprehend.

As we neared the castle gates, Fig pulled his cloak tighter, his expression serious. "Listen carefully, Jude. We can't tell anyone about this. Not yet. Not until we understand more about the magic we're dealing with. Especially not Ranrok."

His words stung. Keeping secrets wasn't something I'd ever been good at, especially with the growing sense of danger that followed me like a shadow. But I knew Fig was right.

"Who can we trust, then?" I asked quietly.

He paused, thinking for a moment. "I'll need to consult with Professor Weasley and some others who might have insights. But for now, we act as if nothing happened. It's safer that way."

A chill ran down my spine. Act like nothing had happened? After everything we'd just seen, it felt impossible.

We entered the castle under the cover of dusk, the Great Hall alive with the distant sound of students chatting over dinner. Fig gave me one last look, his face shadowed by the flickering torchlight.

"Head back to the Hufflepuff common room. I'll take care of things here. And Jude..." His voice lowered, almost as if he was afraid of being overheard. "Be careful. Ranrok will likely try again."

I nodded stiffly and turned toward the direction of the Hufflepuff basement. But every step felt heavy. It wasn't just Ranrok I had to worry about—there was the magic I'd felt, the strange pull in the pensive, and the deeper questions I couldn't yet answer. I wasn't sure what was happening to me, but one thing was clear: whatever had started in those ruins wasn't over.

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In the morning, the castle was bustling with activity as students prepared for the day. I joined Poppy and Eleanor in the Great Hall, where the usual chatter and clinking of cutlery provided a normalcy that felt strangely comforting. Poppy, ever the energetic one, was animatedly discussing a new Care of magical creatures assignment. Eleanor, meanwhile, was engrossed in gossip, her blonde hair catching the light as she leaned in close.

"You won't believe it," Eleanor said conspiratorially, her voice low. "I heard from a reliable source that there's been increased activity around the Forbidden Forest. Some students are even saying they've seen strange figures lurking about."

I glanced at Poppy, who looked just as intrigued. "Strange figures? Like what?"

Eleanor shrugged. "No details, but it's been the talk of the Gryffindor table. Even Aiden's mentioned it, and he's not one to make up stories."