𝘋𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘏𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘐𝘌𝘋/𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 (English version)

Chapter 53

It was late at night when Sarah climbed the stairs toward the Gryffindor Tower. The corridor was shrouded in darkness, and the torches on the walls cast flickering shadows on the ancient stones. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, shivering slightly. The cold seemed to seep into every corner of the castle, as if Hogwarts itself were aware of the darkness that enveloped it.

She had just left the Room of Requirement after discussing plans for Dumbledore's Army with Neville. His optimism, so unusual compared to the past, had ignited a spark of hope in her, but now that she was walking alone through the corridors, the weight of reality settled back onto her shoulders. Something unsettled her. It was a subtle, creeping sensation, as if someone were watching her. Her breath slowed, controlled.

She turned the corner, and her footsteps echoed louder in the silence of the night. Then, suddenly, a low and familiar voice made her start.

"Miss Black."

She froze, her heart hammering in her chest. From the darkness emerged the imposing figure of Snape. His face remained in shadow, but his black eyes gleamed with an unsettling calm.
"Headmaster," Sarah murmured, trying to maintain her composure. "Is something wrong?"

Snape regarded her for a long moment, then stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was as cold as the air surrounding them.
"It is not safe to walk alone in the castle at this hour. There are forces at work that are only waiting for such situations to act."

Sarah pressed her lips together. "I don't understand, Professor. What are you referring to?"

A faint smile, or perhaps just the ghost of one, crossed Snape's face.
"The Dark Lord is not a man who tolerates insubordination, and there are those who, no matter how skilled, do not always manage to avoid his attention."
A shiver ran down her spine. "Why are you telling me this?"
Snape stepped even closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"Be careful whom you trust, Black. Not all who claim to be your allies act in your best interest." Then, with a fluid movement, he turned. His cloak billowed lightly behind him, but before disappearing into the shadows, he paused one last time.

"Do not go too far in trying to play with a fire you cannot control. You might find yourself burned before you even realize it."

And then he was gone, leaving her motionless in the darkness of the corridor, her breath caught in her chest.

Tension clenched her stomach.
Her body moved before her mind could fully process the meaning of those words. She quickened her pace, then broke into a run. The cold stung her face, the air felt denser, heavier. She didn't stop until she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She uttered the password in a barely audible voice, and as soon as the passage opened, she slipped inside.

The common room was wrapped in a surreal stillness. The fire in the hearth burned weakly, casting flickering shadows over the empty armchairs. Ginny wasn't there—she had probably stayed with the others, not wanting to spend Halloween night alone.

Sarah shut the door to her dormitory with a dull thud and leaned against it, sliding to the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears like a frantic drum.
She tried to slow her breathing, to calm down, but the tension was too strong.

With effort, she stood up and took a few steps toward her bed.
The intensity of her emotions clouded her mind, but something caught her attention. Among the pillows lay a rolled-up parchment, tied with a simple green thread.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

She approached slowly, as if the parchment might explode in her hands. With trembling fingers, she picked it up and untied it. The silence in the room became deafening as her gaze swept over the few words written in a quick, slightly slanted handwriting.