From Cupboard to Chaos

A hint or not?

I was still lying on the floor of the common room when it hit me: I was holding a magical book of who-knows-what, and I had no clue what to do with it.

The sensible thing would've been to march straight to Professor Sprout, hand it over, and say, Here, you deal with this insanity. I'm done.

But no. I don't do sensible, apparently.

Instead, I sat up, stared at the kneazle—who had settled into my chair like it was the rightful ruler of Hufflepuff—and said, "I guess we're going to the library."

The kneazle didn't even blink.

Sneaking into the library at night is surprisingly easy when you're in Hufflepuff. All you have to do is act like you're on a perfectly reasonable midnight errand—like delivering fresh herbs to Professor Sprout—and no one questions you.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for sneaking into the Restricted Section.

I made it to the library without a hitch, the kneazle trotting along beside me like a tiny, furry accomplice. But the moment I stepped into the Restricted Section, my luck started unraveling.

First, there was the fact that the books were... alive? I'm not talking about the subtle, might-be-haunted kind of alive. I'm talking full-on growling, whispering, and glaring at me with actual, glowing eyes.

"Okay," I whispered to the kneazle. "New plan: grab whatever looks useful and run before the books eat us."

The kneazle just chirped and leapt onto a nearby shelf, pawing at a dusty, leather-bound tome that looked older than Dumbledore.

"Not helpful," I muttered, flipping open the magical book I'd brought with me.

The runes on the pages were still glowing faintly, taunting me with their indecipherable mysteries.

"Right," I said, running a hand through my hair. "How hard can it be to translate ancient, glowing magic?"

Answer: very hard.

I rifled through the Restricted Section, looking for anything that might help. Every time I pulled a book from the shelf, it either bit me, screamed at me, or tried to escape.

"Do you mind?" I hissed at a particularly aggressive tome as it snapped at my fingers.

The kneazle watched this disaster unfold with the smug satisfaction of someone who didn't have to do any of the actual work.

After what felt like hours of chaos, I finally found a book titled Runes for Dummies—a title I took as a personal attack—and plopped down at a nearby table.

"Okay," I said, opening the book and flipping to the section on ancient magical scripts. "Let's see what we're dealing with."

The kneazle jumped onto the table and started batting at the edges of the magical book, clearly bored.

"Will you stop that?" I snapped, pushing it away. "I'm trying to concentrate."

The kneazle ignored me and promptly flopped down on top of the translation book, purring loudly.

After an hour of painstakingly matching runes to their meanings, I'd managed to translate about half a sentence:

"The key shall open the path to the—"

The what? The what?!

"Why does every magical thing have to be so cryptic?" I groaned, slamming my head against the table.

The kneazle responded by batting at my hair.

As I was mid-breakdown, I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing through the library.

"Great," I muttered, shoving the magical book under my robes. "Just what I needed."

The kneazle perked up, its ears twitching, and darted under the table.

I barely had time to hide Runes for Dummies before Madam Pince, the librarian, appeared at the end of the aisle, her hawk-like eyes scanning the room.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

"Uh... studying?" I said, flashing what I hoped was a convincing smile.

"At this hour?" she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes!" I said, holding up the first book I could grab. "I, uh, couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd brush up on... herbology."

Madam Pince squinted at the book in my hands, which turned out to be A Beginner's Guide to Dragon Care.

"Herbology, you say?" she said, her voice dripping with suspicion.

"Yep!" I said, nodding vigorously. "It's, uh, a very diverse subject."

Somehow, against all odds, she bought it. Or maybe she just decided I wasn't worth the trouble, because she muttered something about "no respect for the rules" and stormed off.

The moment she was gone, I collapsed into the chair, clutching my chest like I'd just survived a duel with Voldemort.

"That was too close," I whispered, pulling the magical book out from under my robes.

The kneazle reappeared, looking thoroughly unimpressed with my survival instincts.

I turned back to the translation, determined to make some kind of progress before I got caught again.

The next few runes were easier to decipher, and soon I had a full sentence:

"The key shall open the path to the heart of the labyrinth."

I stared at the words, my stomach twisting.

"The labyrinth?" I muttered. "What labyrinth?"

The kneazle chirped and pawed at the golden key, which I'd placed on the table.

"Is this your way of saying you know what's going on?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at it.

The kneazle blinked innocently.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the glowing runes and the golden key.

A labyrinth. A magical, probably-dangerous labyrinth.

This was bad. Really bad.

But at the same time... I couldn't ignore it. Whatever this labyrinth was, it had to be important.

"Guess we're going on another adventure," I said, glancing at the kneazle.

The kneazle chirped and leapt off the table, already heading for the door.

"Of course you're excited," I muttered, grabbing the book and the key. "You're not the one who almost dies every time."

As I followed the kneazle out of the library and into the dark corridors of Hogwarts, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd gotten myself into this time.

One thing was certain: my life at Hogwarts was never going to be normal.