On the Quidditch pitch, the energy was electric—students from all four Houses were spread across the stands, already shouting, chanting, and tossing taunts across the field before the game even started.
Gryffindor and Slytherin's rivalry wasn't just competitive—it was deeply personal.
Normally, Ravenclaw students kept to themselves, choosing to observe rather than pick sides.
They didn't exactly like Slytherin, but declaring full support for Gryffindor wasn't in their nature either.
Neutrality, after all, was a kind of wisdom.
But Luna Lovegood was never one to follow the crowd—or logic.
Perched in the stands, she wore an oversized lion head hat that completely engulfed her head, with just her small, fair face poking out of the lion's open mouth.
It made her stand out like a candle in the dark.
Ted spotted her from across the stands and strolled over, chuckling. "Need a bit of magic to really make it roar?"
Luna blinked slowly, confused but curious. "Alright."
Ted flicked his wand and cast a quick enchantment on the lion hat.
With a twitch and a low growl, the lion head suddenly came alive—its eyes swiveled around, it opened its huge mouth and let out a booming MGM-style roar that echoed across the field.
"Ooooooohhh!" it growled, tossing its mane.
Everyone nearby turned in surprise.
Luna's pale cheeks flushed pink, but she beamed under the lion's animated mane.
The enchanted roar lasted for the rest of the day, making Luna the unofficial mascot.
Despite all the cheering and House pride, Gryffindor still lost.
It wasn't a big defeat, but a loss nonetheless.
Ted didn't pay much attention to the score—his mind was elsewhere.
Throughout the game, he kept scanning the crowd, searching for Dobby—just in case the house-elf tried something sneaky, like jinxing a Bludger to target Neville.
But there was no sign of him.
That night, Ted refused to sleep.
He sat hunched over the Marauder's Map, eyes scanning every corridor.
Nothing.
Well—aside from spotting Ron and Jerry sneaking off to the Prefect's Bath for a midnight swim.
That wasn't exactly a threat.
"Tch…" Ted sighed.
Something had changed.
The story he knew was shifting.
Last year, things had stayed mostly on track.
But now?
The flaps of his little butterfly wings had grown stronger, and the storm they were stirring was much harder to predict.
The next morning, the gang noticed something odd.
"Ted… are you wearing glasses?" Neville asked, squinting.
Ted adjusted the sleek, dark-rimmed pair on his face. "Yeah. Flat lenses."
He'd made them himself, using alchemy, magical object creation, enchantments,
He called them the 'Can't-Die Glasses'. The name wasn't subtle, but it got the point across.
A few days later, flying class rolled around.
As the others practiced loops and dives, Ted climbed higher and higher into the sky, until the castle below was just a shape in the mist.
He floated above the spires using the knowledge that he got from the cultivator about flight, and surveyed the castle like a hawk.
From up here, the Hogwarts grounds were breathtaking.
The Black Lake glistened like dark glass, the Forbidden Forest whispered secrets to the wind, and the castle rose from the hillside like it had grown there.
He'd studied ley lines and magical energy in tomes.
Hogwarts' location? It was no accident.
The castle sat at a convergence of natural power—some might call it a well-placed node of arcane flow.
It was powerful, but not invincible.
No fortress was, especially when Avada Kedavra was just two words away.
That night, Ted once again unfolded the Marauder's Map and scanned for unusual movements.
His eyes widened.
"Neville…?"
There it was—Neville's name, moving slowly through the halls.
And right beside it: Dobby.
"Well, well, well," Ted whispered, standing up. "Took your time, little guy."
He crept out of the dormitory, under the cover of a Disillusionment Charm, his enchanted glasses on and wand drawn.
At every corridor, his Psicrystal—Parker—floated ahead like a mini-drone, checking for threats.
"Mr. Longbottom! You can't stay at Hogwarts any longer! It's too dangerous—far too dangerous!" A house-elf in a ragged old pillowcase clung to Neville's robes, his eyes overflowing with tears.
"I'm fine! Let me go, I'm going back. And don't bring Filch into this," Neville said, clearly panicking.
It had been months since he last saw this meddling little elf—he'd almost forgotten how frustrating he could be.
But now Dobby had somehow followed him into the school grounds!
"It's not safe, it's not safe!" Dobby cried, still holding tight.
His bony fingers gripped with surprising strength, and with one sharp tug, he ripped a piece of Neville's robe.
They both froze for a second, staring at the torn cloth.
Then Neville bolted.
But Dobby vanished and reappeared right in front of him, nearly tripping him.
"Let go of me!"
"Mr. Longbottom, you must leave Hogwarts! The monster—it's been released!"
"Monster?" Neville blinked, pausing. "What monster?"
"Oh no, Dobby mustn't speak of his master's plans! Dobby is a bad elf!" And with that, he smacked his head against the ancient stone wall of Hogwarts.
"No, no, don't do that!" Neville rushed to stop him, heart racing.
Dobby paused, eyes wide. "Mr. Longbottom is too kind! Dobby… Dobby is touched!"
Neville cleared his throat. "Right… then maybe you could tell me a bit more about the—"
Dobby resumed slamming his head into the wall.
"Okay, okay! I won't ask!"
At that moment, a silent curse shot toward Dobby's back.
But the elf suddenly shrunk down, his whole body compressing in a way that looked almost boneless, and the spell barely missed him.
"Yaaah!" Dobby yelped and vanished with a loud pop.
Just then, the sound of clanking metal echoed down the corridor—as if ten blacksmiths had set up shop.
Uh-oh.
That noise was Dobby's way of raising the alarm.
Was he really trying to get Neville expelled with a stunt like this?
"Disillusion!" Ted appeared out of thin air, having been lurking since the sneak attack, and cast the charm on both himself and Neville.
Sure enough, less than a minute later, Filch came stomping in, growling curses.
"PEEVES! You're done for this time! I'll string you up by your ears!"
After waiting for Filch to storm past, Ted and Neville slipped into a safe corridor to regroup.
Turns out Neville had been out wandering with Jerry.
The normally rule-abiding boy had clearly been convinced to loosen up a bit.
Jerry had run off to the kitchens for a late-night cheese snack, and Neville was heading back to the dorms alone—only a couple of corridors away—when Dobby pounced.
"He said his name was Dobby!" Neville looked at Ted with wide eyes.
"Tell me he wasn't stalking me this whole time—before term even started—and only showed up now because I was alone?"
Ted raised an eyebrow. "Sounds about right."
Neville frowned. "He also said something about a monster being released. That's serious."
Ted nodded grimly. "We'll talk about it more tomorrow. For now, get back to bed. Don't worry about Jerry—Filch couldn't catch a Hufflepuff in a net."
Ted hadn't expected to miss Dobby.
The little elf was ridiculously nimble—and magic-sensitive.
That evasive move he pulled wasn't something flesh and blood creatures should've been able to do.
It was like the top half of his body folded into the bottom half.
Still, no matter.
Catching Dobby wasn't urgent—his appearance was enough to confirm that Lucius Malfoy was involved.
That was more important.
Ted figured Dobby wouldn't dare show his face again anytime soon.
He returned to bed, and when he woke the next morning, it was December.
----------------------
Ding! [Talent: Knowledge of Other Worlds (Gold)] has triggered:
[Soldier 76 Tactical Goggles Development Manual (Green)] discovered.
[Soldier 76 Tactical Goggles Development Manual (Green)]: Contains research notes for advanced targeting eyewear designed by a tech-based military unit. Cost: 260 experience.
----------------------
Seriously? A tech-based item?
Ted groaned.
Once-a-month talent activations shouldn't be wasted.
At first, he considered skipping it, but then he remembered the basilisk's deadly stare.
He'd already made some prototype protective glasses, but he still wasn't sure they'd work.
So he redeemed it.
The knowledge hit him in a wave: systems for real-time targeting, contour recognition, and thermal tracking.
Useful—but highly advanced.
Modifying it to use magic wouldn't be quick or easy.
"What, do I need to alchemize circuit boards and write runes like programming code now?" he muttered.
Still, even theoretical ideas had value.
Just as he was getting ready for morning exercises, a scream ripped through the air.
It was Hermione.
Ted bolted, enchanting himself with a quick haste charm and pulling on his protective glasses.
"Hermione? Where are you?!" he called, his voice echoing through the corridors.
"Ted! Over here! Hurry!" she shouted back.
He rounded the corner and skidded to a stop.
There, on the cold stone floor, lay a girl covered in ash-gray mist, her limbs frozen mid-motion, her body stiff like a statue.
"It's Clara!" Hermione cried. "What happened to her?!"
Clara Flash. Hermione's roommate. A dwarf girl, energetic Ravenclaw girl who barely stood over a meter tall.
She was always bouncing with questions and clever ideas.
Professor Flitwick adored her.
Ted had seen her around but didn't know her well.
But there was no mistaking it now—Clara had been Petrified.
Ted noticed that Clara was wearing a strange pair of glasses—thick, with several magical bits and pieces built into the frame.
He didn't recognize most of the enchantments, but it was clear the glasses had been damaged.
Maybe they saved her from something worse?
He had bumped into Neville the night before, and now someone had been attacked by morning?
And this close to the Ravenclaw tower?
"Hermione, when did you find her like this?" Ted asked, glancing at Clara's petrified form.
Hermione's face was pale. "Clara sneaks out sometimes... just to walk around. She went out last night, but when I woke up and saw her bed still empty, I got worried and started looking for her."
So it could've happened anytime between last night and this morning.
Wait a second—was the basilisk out in the castle at the same time as me and Neville?!
Before Ted could process that, Hermione's shouts had drawn a few early-rising Ravenclaws.
They stopped in their tracks, eyes widening at the sight of Clara frozen on the cold stone floor.
Professor Flitwick and a few other professors arrived minutes later. Dumbledore was quick to examine the girl.
"She's not dead," he announced solemnly. "Petrified. Just like Filch's cat."
Whispers spread like fire. People began muttering again about the Chamber of Secrets.
By breakfast, the whole school knew.
The Great Hall buzzed with anxious chatter.
When Mrs. Norris had been attacked, it was scary—but still distant.
Now, a student had been struck.
Panic brewed.
"Chamber of Secrets! Purging Muggle-borns!" Some whispered it like a curse. Others repeated it louder, fueling fear.
"I'm done waiting," Hermione muttered with sudden intensity. "We need to get that Polyjuice Potion done and get answers out of Malfoy."
So the abandoned classroom where Ted usually did his magical research now held a bubbling cauldron that smelled like boiled socks.
December had barely started, and already, the atmosphere in Hogwarts was thick with tension.
Most students couldn't concentrate in class—everyone was whispering about the attack, swapping theories, or making their own protective charms.
Some kids had started selling their protective charms.—salamander tails sewn into pouches, garlic braids, even enchanted socks.
Ted remembered his deal with the twins and Ron about starting a little side hustle.
So he taught them how to make simple enchanted charms with actual minor wards.
They were a bit clumsy in craftsmanship, but hey—at least they worked better than onions.
The first week passed without more attacks, but everyone was still jumpy.
By the second week, Professor McGonagall began collecting names of students who would stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, just like every year.
Harley, Neville, Ron, Jerry, and Hermione all signed up.
Ted, of course, stayed too. He never left during holidays—too much to learn.
Somehow, Harley had found out that Malfoy planned to stay too.
That raised everyone's eyebrows.
"Very suspicious," Hermione muttered, scribbling notes in her planner.
The holiday break was shaping up to be the perfect time for the Polyjuice plan.
There was only one problem: two of the main ingredients for the potion were missing.
Horn of Bicorn and Boomslang skin—both rare and controlled by the Ministry.
You couldn't just grab them off a shelf.
And so, naturally, the group turned their attention to one place that might have them: Snape's private storeroom.
As for who would sneak in? That part was obvious.
Harley had nerves of steel and a reputation for rule-breaking. Jerry had the best stealth in the group.
Perfect team.
Jerry could slip in, Harley could take the fall if anything went wrong—and Ted?
Ted had already started planning backup enchantments in case everything went sideways.