Wayne did not return to the castle immediately.
Instead, he followed the connection.
Not physically at first, but through memory, through the faint imprint left behind in the student's mind. It was not a clean path. The trail resisted him in small, deliberate ways, as if someone had anticipated exactly this kind of intrusion.
That alone was enough to confirm it.
This was not random.
Wayne walked along the outer grounds, moving past the lake and toward the far slope where the land dipped into uneven terrain rarely used by students. The sky had darkened fully now, clouds covering the moon in slow-moving layers, allowing only fragments of light to reach the ground.
The path led him toward a place that did not exist on any map given to students.
A narrow stretch of land between two ridges, partially hidden by old stone and overgrown roots.
Bracken Hollow.
The name surfaced in fragments from the mind he had touched, not spoken aloud, not written anywhere, but remembered just enough to exist.
Wayne stepped into it.
The air changed immediately.
Not colder, not warmer, but heavier. Sound dulled, as if the space itself absorbed intention. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, patches of damp soil breaking through stone, roots twisting across the surface like something that had grown without interruption for decades.
This was not a place people stumbled into.
It was a place they were led to.
Wayne stopped.
The connection he had been following… shifted.
Not forward.
Back.
A reflection.
He narrowed his focus again, pressing deeper, forcing the memory thread to reveal its origin.
For a brief moment, it did.
A room. Not here. Not the castle. Not Hogsmeade.
Voices.
Then—
Nothing.
Cut.
Not faded. Not forgotten.
Removed.
Wayne's expression changed slightly.
Shielded.
Not naturally. Not through skill alone.
Deliberately.
He stepped forward again, slower now, more cautious.
The ground dipped further into the hollow, and the light thinned until even his surroundings began to lose definition. Shapes blurred at the edges, as if the space resisted being fully seen.
Then the pressure came.
Not physical.
Mental.
Subtle, but precise.
A thought that was not his.
Turn back.
Wayne did not move.
The pressure increased, not forceful, but persistent, like a suggestion repeated just often enough to feel like instinct.
This is not the right place.
Wayne exhaled slowly.
"No," he said quietly. "It's not the real one."
The hollow responded.
The ground shifted slightly, the shadows deepening in unnatural ways. For a fraction of a second, the illusion faltered.
That was all Wayne needed.
He stepped back.
Immediately, the pressure lessened.
The connection snapped cleanly.
And in that moment, he understood.
He had not followed the network.
He had been redirected.
Watched.
Tested.
Wayne turned, eyes scanning the edges of the hollow.
"You noticed," he said under his breath.
There was no reply.
But the silence felt different now.
Aware.
........
At the Same Time — Inside Hogwarts
Amber had not intended to attend a class.
She had only been walking.
The corridors had a way of pulling her along, doors opening, voices drifting just enough to spark curiosity. When she passed an open classroom and heard a lecture in progress, she paused only for a second before stepping inside quietly and taking a seat near the back.
No one questioned it.
The professor, a thin wizard with a sharp voice and precise gestures, continued speaking about controlled charm layering, drawing diagrams in the air that shimmered faintly before settling into the board.
Amber listened.
At first, everything felt normal.
Students took notes. Spells were demonstrated. A few attempts failed, corrected quickly by the professor without concern.
Then she noticed it.
Not something visible.
Something… off.
A student near the front had a notebook open, but he wasn't writing. His hand moved, yes, but the ink on the page did not match the motion. Lines appeared slightly out of sync, as if written a second too late.
Amber frowned.
The notebook pulsed faintly.
Not with light.
With presence.
She leaned forward slightly, focusing.
The air around it felt heavier. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough to register as wrong.
The student turned a page.
For a brief second, Amber caught a glimpse.
Symbols.
Not standard notation. Not anything taught in the class.
The page corrected itself instantly.
Too cleanly.
Amber sat back.
Her expression didn't change, but her attention did.
This was not part of the lesson.
And whatever it was, it was trying very carefully to appear normal.
Back at Bracken Hollow
Wayne stepped out of the hollow and onto firmer ground.
The night felt clearer here.
Honest.
He looked back once.
The hollow remained where it was, quiet, unremarkable, empty to anyone who didn't know what to look for.
"You're not careless," Wayne said softly.
Which meant one thing.
This would not be solved directly.
It would require approach.
Disguise.
Time.
Wayne adjusted his coat slightly, already thinking ahead.
If the network was watching for him…
Then it would be easier to stop looking like himself.
The role he had taken at Hogwarts had been passive.
That would change.
He would move differently now.
Speak differently.
Appear where expected, and act where not.
The investigation had begun.
But the problem had already seen him coming.
And next time—
It would not let him leave so easily.