Sunday dawned over Hogwarts in a quiet, golden calm. For most of the castle, it was a welcome relief—a day free from lessons, from strict schedules, and from the constant watch of professors. Students lingered in bed longer than usual, voices carried more freely through the halls, and the ancient castle itself seemed to settle into a slower, more relaxed rhythm.
But for Rose Potter, Sunday was not a day of rest.
She had been waiting for it.
Not because of the freedom it offered, nor because of the absence of classes, but because of the one thing she had been denied all week—time. Time to speak without interruption, without stolen glances in corridors, without the weight of rival houses standing between them.
Time to speak with Helios.
Sitting on the edge of her bed in the Gryffindor Tower, Rose stared out of the tall window as sunlight spilled across the grounds. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her knee, a habit she hadn't even noticed she had picked up over the past few days. Her thoughts kept circling back to the same expectation, the same quiet hope that refused to fade.
"He should be free today," she said softly, more to herself than anyone else.
Behind her, Hermione looked up from her book, her eyes sharp with quiet awareness. "You've said that three times already," she replied, her tone calm but pointed.
Rose turned slightly, her expression caught between irritation and defensiveness. "I just… I haven't had a proper conversation with him in days," she admitted, exhaling as though releasing a weight she hadn't realized she was carrying.
Hermione closed her book carefully and placed it aside. "And whose fault is that?" she asked.
Rose frowned. "What do you mean?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You've been avoiding him."
"I have not," Rose said quickly, her voice sharper than she intended.
"You have," Hermione continued without raising her voice. "Every time he tries to talk to you something important, you find a reason to leave."
Rose crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. "That's not true," she insisted, though the lack of conviction in her voice betrayed her.
Hermione didn't argue further. The silence between them stretched just long enough for the truth to settle in.
With a quiet groan, Rose pushed herself to her feet. "Whatever," she muttered. "I'll just go find him."
Hermione stood as well, smoothing her robes. "Good," she said. "Because I have questions too."
Rose glanced at her, narrowing her eyes slightly. "What kind of questions?"
Hermione met her gaze evenly. "The obvious kind. About Daphne Greengrass."
Rose's expression tightened, her earlier frustration sharpening into something more complicated. "Right," she said after a brief pause.
The castle was quieter than usual as they made their way out of the tower, though it was far from empty. Students moved in small groups, some lingering lazily in corridors, others already making plans for the day. The usual urgency that filled the halls on weekdays was gone, replaced by a relaxed, almost aimless energy.
Rose, however, had no patience for it.
They checked the Great Hall first. A handful of students were finishing a late breakfast, their conversations low and unhurried. Plates clinked softly against the tables, and the smell of food still lingered in the air. But Helios was not among them.
From there, they moved through the corridors, their footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor, but the halls themselves were nearly empty. There was no sign of him.
The courtyard was more lively. Groups of students gathered in the open space, laughing, talking, and enjoying the rare break from routine. Some lounged against the walls, while others sat on the grass, basking in the sunlight. Rose scanned every face carefully, but none of them were the one she was looking for.
"He's not here," she muttered, more to herself than to Hermione.
"Let's check the library," Hermione suggested. "Just in case."
Rose didn't argue.
Inside, the familiar quiet greeted them. The soft rustle of pages and the occasional whisper were the only sounds that broke the stillness. Even here, where Helios might reasonably have been, there was no trace of him.
By the time they stepped back into the corridor, the absence had begun to feel deliberate.
Rose stopped walking, her frustration finally surfacing. "He's not anywhere," she said, her voice tight.
Hermione frowned. "That's strange. He doesn't just disappear without a reason."
Rose turned to her, her gaze sharp. "Unless he's with someone."
Hermione didn't respond immediately, but she didn't need to. They both knew exactly who Rose meant.
After a moment, Hermione said, "Let's ask around."
They did so carefully at first, keeping their questions casual, their tone light. But it didn't take long for curiosity to spread. When Rose Potter started asking about someone, people noticed. And when people noticed, they talked.
The answers they received were inconsistent at best.
"I haven't seen him since yesterday," one student said.
"He was with Greengrass a lot last week," another added.
"I think I saw someone like him near the gates this morning," a third offered uncertainly.
Each response added another fragment, another piece of something incomplete. None of it was enough to form a clear picture, but together, they suggested one thing—he had been seen, and not alone.
What Rose didn't realize was that she was not the only one listening.
From a shadowed corner of the corridor, Dolores Umbridge stood silently, her presence unnoticed as she observed the exchange. Her expression remained composed, but her eyes gleamed with quiet calculation. She had been waiting for an opportunity, for a mistake she could use, and now it seemed that one had finally presented itself.
Her fingers brushed lightly over the back of her hand, tracing the faint scars that still lingered there. The memory of pain had not faded, nor had the humiliation that accompanied it. Her lips curved into a thin, controlled smile.
"Mr. Black," she murmured softly, "you thought you were clever."
She moved through the castle with deliberate care, gathering information without drawing attention to herself. She asked no direct questions, but she listened, guiding conversations subtly when needed.
"I heard someone matching that description was seen near Hogsmeade," one student said.
"Not in uniform," another added.
"With two girls," came a third voice.
"They went to the Hog's Head Inn… and used the Floo Network."
That was enough.
Umbridge paused, letting the implications settle. Unauthorized leave. A student leaving school grounds without permission.
Her smile widened slightly.
This was evidence.
And more importantly, it was justification.
Her hand clenched slightly, the scar pulling faintly as her expression darkened. "He will pay for that," she whispered.
Elsewhere in the corridor, Rose leaned back against the wall, her frustration now unmistakable. "He's gone," she said flatly.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Looks like it."
Rose's voice dropped slightly. "And Daphne's gone too."
Hermione sighed softly. "Rose—"
"I'm not jumping to conclusions," Rose interrupted, though her tone suggested otherwise. "But I don't like this."
She pushed herself off the wall, her expression set with quiet determination. "When he comes back…"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're going to do what?"
Rose hesitated, the answer clearly beyond her grasp. "I don't know," she admitted.
And that was the problem.
Because she had questions—too many questions. About Helios, about Daphne, about what was happening, and about what any of it meant.
And somewhere in the castle, unseen and patient, Dolores Umbridge waited.
Preparing.
Because when Helios Black returned, she would be ready.
And this time, she would not let him walk away.
By the time they returned to Hogsmeade Village, the sky had already begun to darken.
Evening settled slowly over the small wizarding settlement, shadows stretching across the cobbled streets as the last traces of daylight faded into a deepening blue. The lively bustle of the afternoon had thinned, leaving behind only scattered groups of villagers.
Inside the dim interior of the Hog's Head Inn, the fireplace flared with a sudden burst of green.
One by one, they stepped through.
Daphne stumbled slightly as she landed on the worn wooden floor, her balance unsteady from the journey. She caught herself quickly, though the faint weakness in her posture had not yet fully faded.
Astoria, however, was something else entirely.
She stood straight.
Her cheeks were flushed with color, her eyes bright with a kind of energy that had not been there before. It was not just health—it was vitality, something deeper, something long denied finally restored.
"I feel… amazing," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet disbelief, as though she feared the sensation might vanish if she spoke too loudly.
Helios glanced at her briefly. His expression did not change much, but there was a faint shift in his gaze—a quiet acknowledgment.
"Health is wealth."
It was a simple sentence.
But it carried weight.
More than anything else he could have said.
Behind them, Lord Greengrass stepped out of the flames last. For a moment, he said nothing. He simply looked at his daughters.
His gaze lingered on Astoria first, taking in every detail—the color in her face, the steadiness in her stance, the brightness in her eyes. Then it moved to Daphne, who, though still slightly pale.
For the first time in years, there was no tension in his expression.
No fear lurking behind controlled composure.
He reached out, placing a hand gently on Astoria's shoulder.
"…you're alright," he said, his voice low, almost unsteady.
Astoria smiled at him—a genuine, radiant smile.
"I'm alright."
Daphne stood beside her, silent, but there was something different in her as well. The weight she had carried for so long—the constant vigilance, the quiet fear—seemed lighter now. Not gone, perhaps, but no longer crushing.
Lord Greengrass exhaled slowly, as though releasing a breath he had held for years.
Then he turned to Helios.
"I will keep my word," he said firmly.
Helios met his gaze without hesitation.
"I know."
Moments later, Lord Greengrass stepped back into the fireplace.
"Greengrass Manor."
The green flames rose once more, swallowing him entirely.
And then he was gone.
For a brief moment, silence settled over the room.
Astoria broke it.
She turned toward Helios, a mischievous grin forming on her face.
"So… are we going back the same way?"
Helios raised an eyebrow slightly. "What do you mean?"
"The secret passage," she said eagerly.
Daphne stiffened immediately, her reaction sharp and instinctive.
"No."
Her voice was firm.
"Absolutely not."
Astoria groaned in exaggerated disappointment. "Oh, come on—"
"It's dark, cramped, and filled with spiders," Daphne continued, her tone growing more incredulous with each word.
Astoria's grin only widened. "Exactly."
"That's not a good thing!"
Helios sighed softly, already turning away from the fireplace.
"We're not using it."
Astoria crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. "That's disappointing."
They stepped outside into the cool evening air. The streets, though quieter now, still held too many people. Too many eyes.
Too many chances for something to go wrong.
Without a word, Helios turned and began walking in a different direction.
Daphne glanced at him, unease settling quickly. "Where are we going?"
He did not answer immediately.
Which, in Daphne's experience, was never a good sign.
They continued walking, the noise of the village fading behind them as they moved further away from the center. The path grew quieter, darker, the distant silhouette of something large and jagged coming into view.
When Daphne recognized it, she stopped.
"No."
Her voice was flat.
"No, absolutely not."
Ahead of them, the Shrieking Shack loomed in the darkness, its crooked structure silhouetted against the fading sky.
Astoria, on the other hand, looked delighted.
"Oh, this is perfect!"
Daphne turned to her in disbelief. "Perfect? It's haunted!"
"It's not haunted," Helios said calmly.
"That's what people say before they get possessed!"
Astoria laughed, already moving forward. "This is amazing."
Daphne grabbed her arm. "You're not serious!"
Astoria pulled free easily. "I've always wanted to explore creepy places."
"You've also always been reckless!"
"And now I can actually enjoy it!"
Daphne turned to Helios desperately. "Say something!"
Helios shrugged faintly. "It's safe."
"It is not safe!"
"It is."
In the end, resistance proved futile.
Between Astoria's enthusiasm and Helios's complete lack of concern, Daphne found herself being dragged—quite literally—toward the house.
"I hate both of you," she muttered under her breath.
Astoria grinned brightly. "No, you don't."
"I really do."
Inside, the Shack was exactly what it looked like—old, broken, and abandoned. The wooden floor creaked underfoot, dust lingering in the air, and shattered furniture lay scattered in uneven piles.
But there was nothing else.
No whispers.
No unseen presence lurking in the shadows.
Daphne glanced around nervously. "…it's too quiet."
Helios walked ahead without hesitation. "It's just a building."
Astoria spun slowly, taking in everything with fascination. "This is incredible."
Ignoring both reactions, Helios moved toward a specific section of the floor. He knelt, pressing firmly against a hidden panel. With a soft shift, it gave way, revealing a narrow opening beneath.
"A passage," he said simply.
Astoria crouched beside him immediately, her curiosity fully engaged. "Oh, this is so much better than the other one."
Daphne groaned softly. "I'm going to die."
The tunnel was narrow and dark, the air thick with the scent of earth and age. The walls closed in tightly, forcing them into a careful, single-file movement.
Helios led the way, his steps steady and unhurried.
Astoria followed closely, her excitement undiminished.
Daphne came last, every step taken with visible reluctance.
The silence stretched as they moved, broken only by the faint echo of their footsteps.
When they finally emerged, it was beneath the massive, twisted roots of the Whomping Willow.
The branches above shifted slightly, creaking with a life of their own.
Daphne froze immediately. "Oh no—"
Helios stepped forward without hesitation and pressed against a specific knot on the trunk. The tree shuddered once, as though resisting, and then stilled completely, every branch freezing in place.
Daphne stared, stunned. "How—"
"No time," Helios cut in sharply.
He grabbed both girls by the wrist. "Move."
They rushed forward, clearing the tree's reach just as the branches twitched again, slowly beginning to stir back to life.
Only when they were safely away did they stop.
Daphne exhaled deeply, her breath uneven. "That… was terrifying."
Astoria laughed, her excitement still intact. "That was brilliant."
Helios turned to face them, his expression serious now.
"You do not use that passage," he said firmly.
Both girls fell silent immediately.
"This isn't an adventure. It's dangerous. If you make a mistake, you won't get another chance."
Daphne nodded without hesitation. "I wasn't planning to."
Astoria hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "…fine."
With that, they began walking toward Hogwarts.
The castle rose ahead of them, its towering silhouette familiar against the night sky. Lights flickered in its windows, warm and welcoming.
Astoria walked with a lightness that had not been there before, her steps almost effortless.
Daphne walked beside her, still shaken but quieter now, the tension easing slightly.
Helios walked ahead, silent, focused, his mind already elsewhere.
As the doors of Hogwarts drew closer, Helios felt it—a subtle change in the air, a quiet sense that something had shifted while he had been away.
He simply walked forward.
Unaware that the moment he stepped inside—
Everything would begin to unravel.
Author's Note:
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