From Cupboard to Chaos

Harry Potter and the Definitely Cursed Archway

Let me tell you something about my luck: it's not just bad—it's cursed. Some higher power up there must have taken one look at me as a baby and gone, You know what this kid needs? Chaos. Endless, relentless chaos.

Because staring at that weird, ancient archway, I just knew stepping through it was a bad idea. But did that stop me? Of course not. Because apparently, I have the self-preservation instincts of a Flobberworm.

I took a cautious step toward the archway, muttering under my breath.

"Brilliant idea, Harry. Go through the creepy, glowing doorway in the middle of a magical forest. What could possibly go wrong?"

The kneazle let out a low growl, as if to say, I tried to stop you, but you're an idiot, so here we are.

"Thanks for the support," I snapped.

The closer I got, the stranger the archway looked. The carvings on the stone seemed to shimmer, almost like they were alive, and I could swear I heard whispers coming from the other side.

"Hello? Creepy forest spirits? If you're planning to kill me, just a heads-up—I'm already dead inside."

No response.

I stood at the edge of the archway, peering through it. On the other side, the distorted version of Hogwarts loomed, its towers leaning at odd angles like they might collapse at any second.

"Okay, Potter," I said to myself. "It's probably fine. Totally safe. Definitely not a trap."

Spoiler alert: it was a trap.

The moment I stepped through, I felt like someone had yanked me by the scruff of my neck and thrown me into a washing machine. My stomach flipped, my ears popped, and for a second, I was pretty sure I had no bones.

Then, just as suddenly, everything snapped back into place, and I was standing in a dimly lit corridor that smelled faintly of mildew and despair.

"This is... fine," I said, taking a shaky breath. "I'm fine. Everything's fine."

It wasn't fine.

The corridor was eerily quiet, and the air felt heavy, like the castle itself was watching me.

The kneazle appeared beside me, looking entirely unfazed. It padded down the corridor with the confidence of a creature that had never made a bad decision in its life.

"Yeah, great," I muttered, following it. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."

As we walked, I noticed that this version of Hogwarts was... wrong. The walls were darker, the torches burned with an eerie blue flame, and the portraits on the walls were empty.

"Cool, cool, cool," I said, trying to ignore the goosebumps crawling up my arms. "Love the haunted castle vibe. Super comforting."

The kneazle stopped suddenly, its ears twitching.

"What is it now?" I whispered.

That's when I heard it: faint footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"Hello?" I called out, immediately regretting it.

The footsteps stopped.

I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding. The kneazle hissed and darted into the shadows, leaving me to fend for myself.

"Traitor," I muttered.

The footsteps started again, growing louder. I squinted into the darkness, hoping to see whoever—or whatever—was coming, but all I saw was a faint shimmer in the air, like heat rising off pavement.

"Okay, this is fine," I whispered to myself. "Just stay calm. Maybe it's friendly."

It wasn't.

The shimmer moved closer, and suddenly, I was face-to-face with a ghostly figure that looked like it had crawled straight out of a nightmare. Its face was pale and twisted, its eyes hollow, and it wore tattered robes that billowed around it like smoke.

"Potter," it rasped, its voice like nails on a chalkboard.

I froze. "Uh... hi?"

The ghostly figure tilted its head, studying me. "You shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, I get that a lot," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.

Before I could say anything else, the figure lunged at me, its hands clawing at the air. I yelped and stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet and landing hard on the stone floor.

"Okay, rude!" I shouted, scrambling to my feet. "I didn't even do anything!"

The ghost let out an unholy screech that echoed through the corridor, and I did the only thing I could think of: I ran.

I bolted down the corridor, my heart racing, as the ghost chased after me. The kneazle appeared out of nowhere, sprinting alongside me with a look that clearly said, You're on your own, buddy.

"Some magical guide you are!" I snapped.

The corridor twisted and turned, and I had no idea where I was going, but I didn't care. All I knew was that I needed to get away from the angry ghost that was currently trying to murder me.

Finally, I rounded a corner and skidded to a stop. In front of me was another archway, identical to the one I had stepped through earlier.

"Oh, come on!" I groaned. "Not another one!"

The ghost's screech echoed behind me, getting closer.

"Okay, fine!" I shouted, throwing my hands in the air. "I'll take my chances with the cursed doorway!"

I leapt through the archway, bracing myself for another round of bone-melting nausea. Instead, I landed in a heap on the floor of the real Hogwarts, back in the same dusty chamber where this whole mess had started.

The kneazle appeared beside me, looking completely unbothered, and started grooming itself like nothing had happened.

"You are the worst magical companion," I told it, lying flat on my back and staring at the ceiling.

The kneazle ignored me.

As I staggered back to the Hufflepuff common room, covered in glowing goo and thoroughly traumatized, I couldn't help but wonder what I had just stumbled into.

The ghost's words echoed in my mind: You shouldn't be here.

No kidding.

But now that I'd seen the other Hogwarts—the haunted one—I knew one thing for sure: something was seriously wrong, and I wasn't going to stop until I figured out what it was.

Even if it killed me.

Which, given my luck, was a very real possibility.