The black water rose around the street.
It did not splash.
It climbed.
Slowly, quietly, like a living thing pretending to be patient.
Hermione stood with her wand raised, eyes fixed on the spine-shaped tower at the far end of the drowned city. Harry stood beside her, willow branch in hand. Ron held the cabbage box in front of him like a shield and looked deeply unhappy with every decision that had brought him here.
"This is a test, right?" Ron whispered.
Hermione did not look away. "Yes."
"Tests usually have desks."
Harry tightened his grip on the branch. "Not Theodore's."
Ron nodded miserably. "Fair."
Above them, the green-gold line in the starless sky brightened.
It was not exactly Theodore.
More like a path he had placed over the dream, a root stretching from Hogwarts into this strange city. Its light pressed down on the black water, slowing it before it could flood the street.
The water disliked that.
Hands rose from the canals again.
Pale.
Wet.
Too many joints.
Harry moved first.
The willow branch flashed, cutting the first hand before it touched the stone. The hand dissolved into black mist.
Another crawled up behind Ron.
A Chomping Cabbage launched from the box and bit it.
The hand froze.
The cabbage froze too.
For half a second, both seemed surprised.
Then the cabbage shook angrily and chewed harder.
Ron stared.
"You can bite nightmares?"
The cabbage spat black mist and looked offended that he had doubted it.
Hermione did not waste the opening.
"Lumos!"
Her spell passed through Huhu's warmth and spread across the street in a steady orange glow. The black water hissed where the light touched it, retreating from the edges of the stone.
Not far.
But enough.
Theodore's voice sounded from the green-gold line above.
"Good. Don't try to destroy the dream. Mark where it reaches."
Hermione immediately understood.
This was not a duel.
This was mapping.
The dream wanted to find paths into Hogwarts.
They had to show the barrier what those paths looked like.
She pointed her wand at the nearest canal.
"Harry, left side. Ron, keep the hands away from me."
Ron looked at the cabbage box.
"You heard the terrifying girl. Defensive biting only!"
The cabbages leapt out.
Their discipline lasted three seconds.
One bit a hand.
One bit the street.
One tried to bite another cabbage.
Ron grabbed it by the leaves.
"Not teammates!"
Harry cut through two reaching arms, then turned sharply as the willow branch tugged him toward the tower.
The doors had opened wider.
Something stood inside.
Not a body.
A shape made from sleep, hunger, and old worship.
It had no face, but Harry felt it looking at him.
His scar did not hurt.
That somehow made it worse.
This thing was not Voldemort.
It was not a wizard.
It was something that had never needed a wand.
The black water surged.
Hermione's light flickered.
Ron's cabbages were pushed back.
Harry nearly stepped forward on instinct.
Theodore's voice came down at once.
"Do not approach the tower."
Harry stopped.
The thing inside the tower noticed.
A whisper spread through the city.
Not words.
An offer.
Come closer, and you will know why you survived.
Harry's face went pale.
The willow branch trembled in his hand.
The offer was not loud.
That made it dangerous.
It did not shout like Voldemort.
It did not threaten.
It simply placed an old question in front of him and waited.
Why you?
Why did you live?
Why did they die?
Harry's breathing changed.
Hermione saw it immediately.
"Harry!"
Ron threw the cabbage box at him.
The box hit Harry in the shoulder.
Harry stumbled, and the whisper broke.
Ron winced. "Sorry!"
Harry blinked.
Then looked at the box on the ground.
A Chomping Cabbage crawled out, dizzy and furious.
Harry let out a shaky breath.
"No. Good throw."
Ron looked relieved. "That might be the first time anyone has said that."
The green-gold line above them pulsed.
Theodore's voice became colder.
"It tried to use memory. Marked."
A thin root of light descended from the sky and touched the place where the whisper had entered Harry's thoughts.
The air burned green.
The whisper screamed silently and vanished.
Hermione's eyes sharpened.
"So it doesn't only attack fear. It uses questions."
"Yes," Theodore said. "Unanswered ones."
Ron immediately looked nervous.
"I have many unanswered questions."
Hermione snapped, "Ron."
"What? I'm being honest."
The black water rose again, but slower now.
The barrier was learning.
At the end of the street, the thing in the tower shifted its attention.
This time toward Hermione.
The city changed.
The black stone street became a library.
Shelves rose from the water.
Books stacked themselves into towers.
Pages opened without hands.
Hermione froze.
Every book whispered at once.
Answers.
Old magic.
Forgotten history.
The truth beneath Hogwarts.
The truth about Theodore.
The truth about everything.
Hermione's grip on her wand tightened.
Her first instinct was not fear.
It was desire.
That was worse.
The nearest book floated toward her, pages turning.
On the open page was the same spine tower symbol from her notebook.
Below it, words began forming.
Hermione took one step forward.
Harry caught her sleeve.
"Hermione."
She blinked.
The book was closer now.
Too close.
Ron's voice came from behind them.
"It's bait."
Hermione swallowed.
She knew it was bait.
That did not make it less tempting.
Theodore's voice came quietly.
"Hermione, if it had real answers, it would not need to offer them first."
That worked.
Her pride helped where fear might not.
Hermione's face flushed.
Then hardened.
She raised her wand.
"I prefer sources I can cite."
Orange light burst from Huhu.
The floating book caught fire.
The library shelves collapsed back into black water.
The dream recoiled.
The green-gold line above flashed again.
"Marked."
Another root descended, burning away the path that had reached toward curiosity.
Ron stared at Hermione.
"You almost got lured by homework."
Hermione turned her wand slightly toward him.
Ron wisely moved on.
Then the dream looked at Ron.
The city became the Burrow.
Not fully.
A broken, waterlogged version.
Crooked rooms.
Old furniture.
A kitchen table half-submerged in black water.
Voices came from upstairs.
Fred laughing.
George calling.
His mother shouting for everyone to come down.
Ron went stiff.
His hands tightened around the cabbage box.
A small plate appeared on the table.
On it was a sandwich.
Ron stared.
Hermione stared too.
Harry whispered, "Is that—"
Ron said, "That's not fair."
The sandwich looked perfectly normal.
That was the trap.
Not glory.
Not secrets.
Not survival.
Home.
A place where he did not have to be brave, clever, or useful.
A place where he could sit down and eat and complain and be ordinary.
Ron took half a step.
Then every Chomping Cabbage in the box opened its mouth and screamed.
Not a real scream.
A horrible leafy shriek.
Ron jolted.
The Burrow vanished.
The black city returned.
Ron looked down at the cabbages.
They looked back.
For once, he did not scold them.
"Good vegetables," he muttered.
Theodore's voice came from above.
"Marked."
The third root of light descended.
The dream's path into comfort burned away.
The black water began to retreat.
Not quickly.
Unwillingly.
The tower doors at the far end trembled.
The thing inside had tested fear, memory, curiosity, and comfort.
Each attempt had been marked.
Each mark became part of the barrier.
Above the city, the green-gold line split into four branches.
Gryffindor.
Ravenclaw.
Hufflepuff.
Slytherin.
The common room barriers took shape.
Not as walls.
As recognition.
A sleeping student's fear.
A curious mind reaching too far.
A lonely thought of home.
A buried question with no answer.
The dream could still touch the edge of those things, but now Hogwarts would feel it.
The black water dropped back into the canals.
The hands sank.
The spine tower's doors began to close.
Harry raised the willow branch, breathing hard.
"Is it leaving?"
"No," Theodore said. "It is learning too."
The doors stopped closing.
A final whisper slipped through.
This one did not target Harry, Hermione, or Ron.
It rose toward the green-gold line.
Toward Theodore.
A question, soft as sleep.
What do you want badly enough to open the lock?
For the first time, Theodore did not answer immediately.
The three students looked up.
The green-gold line remained steady.
Then Theodore laughed.
"Wrong question."
The whisper paused.
Theodore's voice lowered.
"I do not open locks for hunger."
Fuxi Divine Heaven Resonance sounded.
The whole drowned city shook.
The tower doors slammed shut.
The dream shattered.
Ron woke up on the common room floor.
Not his bed.
The floor.
Harry woke beside the fireplace, willow branch in hand.
Hermione woke in an armchair with her notebook open on her lap.
All three stared at one another.
The common room was dark.
Quiet.
Safe.
Mostly.
Ron slowly looked down.
The cabbage box sat beside him.
Every Chomping Cabbage was awake and facing the fireplace.
Ron opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Then said, "I'm counting that as studying."
Hermione rubbed her forehead.
"There were four routes. Fear, memory, curiosity, comfort."
Harry looked at the willow branch.
"And questions."
Hermione nodded slowly.
"And questions."
The portrait hole opened.
Theodore stepped in.
He looked perfectly awake.
Ron stared at him.
"Do you ever sleep?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"When people stop causing trouble."
Ron considered the last year.
"So never."
Theodore smiled.
Hermione stood, clutching her notebook.
"The barrier?"
"Worked."
Harry exhaled.
"Then students are safe?"
"For tonight."
Ron groaned.
"I hate temporary victories."
"They are still victories," Theodore said.
The Chomping Cabbages rustled proudly.
Theodore glanced at them.
"They helped."
Ron immediately brightened.
"They did?"
"One screamed at a sandwich."
Ron's face fell.
Harry laughed quietly.
Hermione tried not to.
In the depths beneath Hogwarts, the thing below the lock withdrew its dream.
It had learned the taste of the surface.
It had learned the shape of Theodore's barrier.
It had learned that the children around him were not easy openings.
And it had learned one more thing.
Theodore Snow did not answer hunger with hunger.
That made him difficult.
Interesting.
The dream sank back into the dark.
But before it fully slept, it left one image behind.
A door.
A black door beneath a lake beneath a castle.
And on that door, one mark had begun to glow.
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