Percy barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that cloaked figure—watching him from the shadows, silent and unmoving.
By the time the first rays of sunlight crept into the dormitory, he had made up his mind. He needed answers. And he needed them now.
As soon as breakfast was over, Percy pulled Hermione aside in the hallway.
"We need to check the restricted section," he whispered.
Hermione's eyes widened. "The restricted section? Percy, we can't just walk in there! You need a professor's permission."
Percy frowned. "And if we ask for permission, we'll have to explain why."
Hermione bit her lip. She hated breaking rules—but she hated not knowing even more.
Ron, who had just caught up with them, frowned. "Why are we sneaking into the restricted section? And why do I feel like I'm about to regret asking?"
Percy quickly filled him in about the warning parchment, the shadow in the library, and the figure in his dorm room.
By the time he was done, Ron looked pale.
"Brilliant," Ron muttered. "You're being stalked by some creepy shadow person, and your first thought is 'Let's go looking for more creepy things in the library.'"
Percy shrugged. "You have a better idea?"
Ron sighed. "I never have a better idea. That's the problem."
Hermione, looking conflicted, finally nodded. "Fine. But we'll have to do it at night, after curfew. That's when Filch won't be patrolling near the library."
Percy smirked. "Breaking rules? Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"
Hermione huffed. "If I get expelled, I'm blaming both of you."
That night, the three of them crept through the empty halls, moving as quietly as possible.
The castle was eerily silent, the only sound the occasional shifting of the portraits. A few of them snored softly, while others muttered complaints about "students wandering after hours."
They reached the library without incident, slipping inside and heading straight for the back.
The restricted section was separated by a thick iron gate, the books behind it covered in dust and bound in strange, ancient materials. Some had moving symbols on their spines. Others pulsed as if they were breathing.
Hermione pulled out her wand. "Alohomora."
The lock clicked open, and the gate swung inward with a faint creak.
They stepped inside.
Immediately, Percy felt something change.
The air was heavier here, charged with magic. A faint whispering sound filled the space—not loud enough to make out words, but enough to send a chill down his spine.
Ron shuddered. "This place is wrong."
Hermione ignored him, scanning the shelves. "We need books on ancient magic or unusual enchantments. Look for anything mentioning—"
She froze.
Percy turned. "What?"
Hermione pointed. "That."
At the very end of the row, tucked away on a shelf covered in cobwebs, sat a single black book. Unlike the others, it had no title. No markings. Just a plain, leather cover.
But as Percy stepped closer—
The whispering grew louder.
The air felt colder.
Something about this book wanted to be found.
Hermione hesitated before reaching out.
The moment her fingers brushed the cover—
The book shuddered.
The whispering stopped.
Then—
The pages flipped open on their own.
A single phrase burned itself into the parchment, appearing in deep, black ink:
The One Who Walks Between Has Awakened.
Percy's breath caught.
Ron backed up. "Okay, nope. That's it. I'm done. I don't mess with haunted books."
But Percy barely heard him. His eyes were locked on the words, his mind racing.
First, the warning parchment. Then, the figure in the dormitory. And now—this.
What did it mean?
Hermione, her voice barely above a whisper, turned to him. "Percy… I think this is about you."
Percy swallowed hard.
He was afraid she might be right.
Then—
A noise.
Not whispering this time.
Something outside the restricted section.
Footsteps.
Getting closer.
Hermione's eyes widened. "Someone's coming!"
Ron cursed under his breath. "Filch. We need to hide—now."
But Percy's gaze remained locked on the book.
Because beneath the burning message, more words had begun to appear.
And this time, they weren't a warning.
They were a summons.
Come to the Chamber Beneath. Come before it is too late.
The One Who Walks Between is not alone.
A shadow fell across the entrance.
Someone was standing just beyond the iron gate.
The three of them held their breath.
The silence stretched.
Then—
A raspy voice spoke.
"You shouldn't have come here, Mr. Jackson."
And the lights went out.
To Be Continued... Next week!
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Ooh... scaaaaaaary... welp, off to write the next chapter! See you next week!
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