Realms

In a quiet corner of the library, Liam immersed himself in the pages of an ancient book he had carefully retrieved from a nearby shelf. The tome, worn and weathered by time, held the hand-penned wisdom of a long-gone Hogwarts tutor by the name of Ziras Megelus who had imparted knowledge over a century ago. As he turned the delicate pages, he felt a connection to the past, as if the whispers of the tutor's teachings were echoing through his thoughts, inviting him to explore the enchanting world of paper making, particularly the magical techniques that transformed simple materials into extraordinary creations.

The atmosphere around him was thick with the scent of aged parchment and the soft rustle of pages being turned, creating a serene backdrop for his exploration. Liam's curiosity was piqued by the intricate illustrations and detailed descriptions that filled the book, each one revealing secrets of a craft that blended artistry with enchantment. He could almost envision the tutor, surrounded by students eager to learn, sharing the wonders of magic-infused paper making. At that moment, Liam felt a sense of belonging to a rich tradition, as if he were not just a reader but a part of a lineage of creators who had once walked the halls of Hogwarts, their imaginations ignited by the very same knowledge he now held in his hands.

Yet, as he engrossed himself in the text, a question nagged at him: why was there no dedicated class for magical paper making at Hogwarts? It seemed odd that such a captivating and useful skill would be overlooked in a school renowned for its rich tapestry of magical education. Liam pondered whether the art had fallen out of favor or if it was simply deemed too niche for the curriculum. The absence of this class left him curious to explore the reasons behind it, igniting a desire to learn more about the intersection of magic and craftsmanship that had once flourished in the wizarding world.

As he turned another page, Liam stumbled upon a curious passage: the author had chosen to keep his personal study private, stating it was to shield it from "wicked eyes." This peculiar remark struck Liam as odd, especially in the context of a scholarly work. It raised questions about the nature of the information contained within and perhaps even a sense of danger that surrounded the author’s life and work. Was this hidden room forgotten about and left to gather dust, or had it been repurposed after the author's passing?

Liam was determined to uncover every hidden chamber, secret passageway, and any other mysterious nook that Hogwarts had to offer. His quest was fueled by an insatiable curiosity and a deep love for the enchanting history of the castle, driving him to explore every shadowy corner and forgotten corridor. And now he had set his sights on this secret chamber referenced in the tome of Ziras.

"Wow, it seems like I've just signed up for a possibly life-time project!" he grumbled, dropping a stack of books on the table with a thud, yet somehow managing to keep them stacked in a somewhat organized chaos. "Behold, the ultimate guide to hand waggling and wandless wizardry for the clueless!" he declared dramatically, casting a sideways glance at his friend, Liam. As always, Liam was lost in his own world, but Rowan knew he could count on the usual 'really?' response to break the silence.

With a dramatic flourish, he plopped himself into the chair across from his friend, scooting it in with a theatrical scrape that echoed through the library. Leaning forward, he stretched out his hand to grab the top book from the precarious stack, but suddenly froze mid-reach, a mischievous glint sparking in his grey eyes. Why bother reaching by hand when he could use a spell to levitate the book right into his grasp?

"Accio!" he murmured, his palm outstretched in eager anticipation, but the book remained stubbornly still. His fiery red eyebrows knitted together in frustration; Bugger! He was determined not to resort to his wand. He was on a quest to conquer the art of wandless magic. This was merely another hurdle in his quest, one that was proving to be both infuriating and undeniably tricky, but he was not one to back down easily!

The loud thud on a nearby library table, most likely from behind the nearby high bookshelf obscuring the culprit, had her squeezing her eyes tight behind her wired-framed circular reading glasses. She returned to the open books before her to scan for more information on Merlin and possibly his Trials.

The fact that the culprit continued to be loud showed that they either didn’t know the rules of a muggle library or those in a magical school or didn’t care about being quiet. Lark groaned internally and pulled the Book of Runes closer to her. She needed to focus if she wanted to unlock all of the Trials. She had found five, the last being especially tricky for her. Thank goodness for the good old Revelio spell that had allowed her to spot those heavy metal balls beneath the rocky outcrop and hidden by vines. Revelio had been taught to her by her mother from her homeschooling days before her parents had finally decided to return to the British Isles and have her and her younger brother enrolled at Hogwarts.

The scrapping chair was the final straw, and she gritted her teeth and rose from her wooden chair before she moved it back so it would not make a loud sound against the wooden library floor. She removed her reading glasses and placed them in the deep front pocket of her blue woolen vest over her white blouse.

She moved behind the high bookcase and found two male students sitting at the table behind her own. She thought one might look familiar—an older student from her own house—but she didn’t know the other. “Could you please try to remain quiet? This is a place of study, which I am attempting to do.” She admonished in a whisper.

Liam spoke softly, "I believe I have discovered something..." Despite the chaos stirred by Rowan and the arrival of the annoyed girl, his mind was anchored to more pressing matters. "Remember when I discovered Abraham's secret room? All those sweet wrappers he had dropped which lead me there," he asked, a playful grin spreading across his face as he lightly traced his finger over the script of the page, the letters seemed to glow softly, as if attempting to bring them to everyone's attention. "I believe I have stumbled upon yet another secret room."

His attention remained glued to the text, eyes darting across the words in search of clues that might unveil the whereabouts of Professor Megelus's secret study. Yet, a persistent worry tugged at Liam's thoughts: was this mysterious room still preserved, and if it was, what hidden knowledge or treasures might be concealed within its confines?


{Anyone}

Not another girl come to announce herself! It felt like an endless parade of admirers ever since the new semester kicked off. He couldn't really fault his friend for being the center of attention; after all, his adventurous escapades were legendary. But the constant influx of younger girls fawning over him was starting to wear thin. He found himself wishing they would just grow up and focus on something other than Liam's charm.

"Shush!" he whispered to the Ravenclaw student, trying to keep the peace. "My friend is deep in study mode." He had caught the comment his friend had uttered, and they sparked a flicker of curiosity in him. " Are we to investigate?" he murmured, not wishing to say too much and hoped the girl would go away.

If his friend was in ‘deep study mode,’ the one shushing her now had most likely made the racket. Her blue eyes turned glacial towards the red-haired lad until she heard his question to the Ravenclaw student. She was about to retort, but the dark-haired boy’s talk of secret rooms piqued her curiosity.

She also noticed the letters that seemed to glow softly after the Ravenclaw boy traced them with a finger on the page. She took out her reading glasses to see if she could make out the letters better. Though she hadn’t been invited to stay, her earlier annoyance faded somewhat in light of the chance to discover more, perhaps rarer magic. “Might I help? I have a knack for finding the unseen.” She offered, intrigued.

"I doubt you're as good as Liam!" he casually rested back in the chair as he eyed the girl suspiciously, noting her cold stare. How rude, he thought. He was tempted to say something an older Slytherin student would say but he knew Liam would not approve. "He's found more secrets than anyone else, and many the professors didn't know about. He's even found where all the house elves live." he bragged with a cocky grin. He sat forward and looked in the direction of Liam before his eyes fell on the book. Now ignoring the girl.

"Secret rooms and chests of treasure are always rewarding. Just as long as it doesn't concern snakes, spiders, snotty tolls, or bugganes. The first time I heard one I nearly shi..." he stopped before he said something uncouth. "Anyway, you know the list."

Liam gently shut the book, his gaze shifting to the young girl standing before him. A smile crept across his face as he remarked, "I remember being just like you when I first arrived here last year." He studied her intently, noting the telltale signs of a newcomer. "You're in your fifth year," he stated with certainty, "and it seems you're still finding your way around Hogwarts." His tone was not one of conjecture but rather a confident assertion, as he recognized the subtle indicators of her recent arrival. However, he chose to keep the source of his knowledge to himself, mindful of his grandfather's strict guidelines.

Liam had already tested the boundaries of those rules, even going so far as to trim his long hair into a more contemporary style that suited the fashion of the 1890s. He understood the importance of discretion, especially when it came to matters that could potentially upset his grandfather. The young girl, with her wide eyes and eager demeanor, reminded him of his own initial days at the school, filled with wonder and uncertainty. He felt a sense of camaraderie with her, a connection forged through shared experiences, even if he had to keep certain insights to himself.

“I never said I was.” She replied with a shrug. She wasn’t one to boast. It wasn’t what she had been trying to do. She might not know much about Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, or Scotland in general, but she had traveled much on the North American continent and found many secrets there. She smiled at ‘the finding where all house elves lived.’ She supposed the redhead meant the ones at Hogwarts. Well, she at least knew most, if not all, worked in the kitchen at their school.

She noticed the redhead ignored her, but she replied to his words regardless. “Secret rooms and treasures are, though the finding is the best part. I only keep a few coins when I find them.” She grinned at the talkative lad’s list and what he failed to say. Her younger brother had trouble keeping a civil tongue, which their mother blamed on their father.

Lark tilted her head sideways in thought as the lad the red-haired had named Liam spoke to her. “I am a fifth-year student and have just arrived with my younger brother, Aron. He was sorted into Hufflepuff like our father was.” She confirmed with a small smile. It was odd how he spoke to her with such certainty, but at least he was more pleasant than his friend.

“I’m Lark, by the way. Lark Atwin.” She introduced herself or tried to if one wasn’t ignoring her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lark Atwin. My name is Liam Tauthlain. I began my studies here as a fifth-year student as well, and I completely understand how daunting it can feel, even for someone who hails from a lineage of magic practitioners. I, on the other hand, grew up without my parents and was taken in by..." He paused, suddenly aware that he was about to share details regarding his grandfather, a topic he felt was best left untouched at that moment. Instead, he extended his hand for a customary handshake.

"In any case, Hogwarts can indeed be quite overwhelming, especially if you're not accustomed to being surrounded by so many fellow magic users. The sheer number of students, each with their own unique backgrounds and abilities, can create an atmosphere that is both exciting and intimidating. It's a place where the extraordinary becomes the norm, and it can take some time to find your footing amidst the bustling energy of the school."

Lark waited until he paused, and she took his offered hand in a steady but gentle grip to shake it. “It’s good to make your acquaintance, Liam Tauthlain.”

She paused a moment to see if he would introduce his redhead friend before she continued speaking. If he did, she would give a small, polite smile. If not, she would talk a bit about her family.

“It was pretty disconcerting, especially since this is my first time in a formal school. I was homeschooled by my mother, who graduated from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic as a gifted healer. She’s originally from Brittany. Her gift with healing magic most likely saved my father’s limbs more than a few times. My father graduated from Hogwarts and traveled a great deal for his job as a Magizoologist, but he and our mother decided to return home to Wales and have my younger brother and I attend Hogwarts.” She explained her reasons for only attending now in her fifth year. At least her younger brother would benefit from Hogwarts’ formal training as of his first year at age 11.

“In all, I do agree with you, and though I did meet many different people and animals because of my father’s work, most people didn’t openly talk of their magic if they had any such abilities. As for the animals, well, most were magical, and they may talk to you if you know how to listen and befriend them.” She finished with a happy smile, perhaps hinting that she felt more at ease with creatures, magical or otherwise than she did with wizardkind.

Anthony shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping restlessly on the table as the girl launched into a story about her family. He felt a twinge of annoyance that the discussion had shifted to her background. His curiosity was still piqued by the discoveries his friend Liam had made, and he was eager to delve into that topic instead.

"I'm Anthony," he introduced himself, then quickly redirected his focus back to Liam, eager to steer the conversation back to their shared interests. A playful grin spread across his face as he proposed, "How about we meet later at our usual spot?" With that, he stood up, the chair scraped against the polished floor in a discordant sigh as he propelled it back with an impatient nudge. As he hurried to gather the books, the weight of his impending class loomed over him, an unwelcome reminder of time's relentless march.

"I have Professor Aratoad's class now," he said, casting a quick apologetic glance at Liam. "I'll meet you at the dragon at 5 this afternoon," he added, gripping his books tightly as he got ready to leave. Despite being a year younger, Anthony and Liam had developed a close friendship over the past year, bonded by their mutual interest in uncovering secrets at Hogwarts.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise as his friend sprang to his feet like a startled rabbit, announcing his imminent departure for class with the urgency of a time-sensitive potion. It was then that the name Professor Aratoad floated through the air like an ominous cloud, and Liam began to grasp the reason behind this sudden flurry of activity. The peculiar professor, known for his penchant for punctuality, expected his students to arrive several minutes early, as if they were all enchanted by an unseen force. But there was more to this than mere tardiness; a peculiar anxiety seemed to cling to Anthony like a shadow, and Liam couldn't shake the feeling that the mere presence of Lark was the source of this unease. Secrets sparkled and swirled between them like mischievous pixies, and Liam suspected that discussing their clandestine antics before Lark was about as appealing to his friend as a slug stew served with a side of troll snot.
Liam suppressed a chuckle as he turned to Lark, his smile as bright as a freshly polished cauldron, although it wobbled precariously on the edge of uncertainty. "Perhaps we can chat again," he ventured, hoping she wouldn’t take offense at Anthony's departure. But even as the words twirled forth, a peculiar flutter of obligation stirred within him. He wasn’t merely a sixth-year prefect; he was about to confront the infamous Ashly Wythen in a duel so scandalous that it had become the talk of Hogwarts, fluttering through the corridors like a rogue Snitch.

She acknowledged Anthony's introduction with a polite smile but felt the other boy still wasn't too pleased that she hung around by his attitude and manner towards her. Still, Liam didn't seem to take offense to her, so she thought she might stick around until Anthony mentioned Professor Aratoad's class.

Her dark auburn-brown brows furrowed, and her mouth opened in an 'O' before quickly closing it again. "Oh no! I also have a class with him, and though I've never met him, being late can't be good. I can't imagine any professor likes that!" She heard what Anthony said to Liam, but her main concern now was to get to class as soon as possible.

She returned Liam's smile and nodded. "I hope so as well. My offer to help still stands, but I'd best follow after Anthony. It turns out we have the same class." She quickly waved goodbye, picked up her signed-out books where she had left them, and followed out as swiftly as she could after Anthony, not caring if he thought she trailed him.

Rowan swiftly hurried through the ancient corridors of Hogwarts School, clutching his armful of books that threatened to topple at any moment, their spines creaking under the strain of too much knowledge. While most students strolled leisurely to their classes, Rowan seemed determined to arrive at his class on time, dodging fellow pupils like a Quidditch player avoiding Bludgers.

As he navigated around a gaggle of first-years, their wide eyes glued to the enchanted portraits that whispered secrets of the past, a spark of curiosity ignited within him. What if his friend had stumbled upon a hidden chamber, a secret lair just waiting for them to claim it as their own, especially if the professors were blissfully unaware of its existence? As he skidded around a corner, narrowly avoiding a collision with a rather disgruntled ghost, he resolved that standing out at Hogwarts was not just about the magic one wielded, but also about the daring dash one could muster while juggling a library's worth of books. With his wild hair and mismatched socks, Rowan stood out like a Snitch in a field of Bludgers, and he hoped that his frantic pace would convey a sense of urgency rather than the sheer panic he felt at the thought of being late.

Descending a flight of stairs, Rowan arrived at the classroom just in time, barely avoiding a lecture from Professor Aratoad that could rival a lengthy scroll of ancient curses. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and something suspiciously like pickled newts, as he pushed open the heavy door to reveal a dark classroom filled with all sorts of occult paraphernalia. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by flickering candlelight, and Rowan couldn’t help but wonder if the professor had a penchant for the dramatic or simply enjoyed giving his students a fright. With a smirk, he dropped the books on the side of the desk and took his seat, already anticipating the peculiar charms and curses that awaited them, all while silently vowing to keep his wits about him in this enchanting yet slightly sinister realm of magic.

Lark was like a stubborn niffler on the trail of shiny treasure. She followed Anthony’s shock of red hair as he hurried through the ancient corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She clutched the books she had borrowed from the library to her chest as she weaved through the other Hogwarts students. If she bumped into anyone, an apologetic series of sincere “Pardon me! Oh please excuse me!” followed. However, she did not stop moving swiftly forward, not wanting to lose sight of Anthony as she hoped she would still be on time and at least a few minutes from the start of her next scheduled class.

After going down the flight of stairs mere seconds after Anthony, Lark slowed as she entered what she hoped was Professor Aratoad’s classroom, for it was her first time here. She tried to slow her breathing as she slipped inside before the heavy ancient door, previously opened by Anthony, closed completely shut. It seemed she had a knack for squeezing through tight spots as much as snifflers did.

She took in the smell of old parchment but then wrinkled her nose as she picked up on another smell she thought might have passed for something pickled. She hoped it wasn’t some poor animal, insects, or arachnoids, even though the large variety of arachnoids tended to frighten her even if she was in strange awe of them.

She sat near the middle and ensured her reading glasses were intact in her pocket if she needed to read from her class textbook. Her library books were on the desk in a neat pile to the left so as not to obscure her vision of Professor Aratoad or the blackboard if he chose to use it. She preferred brighter, natural sunlight in a classroom but knew better than to complain. She waited for Professor Aratoad’s entrance along with the other students already present.