The castle felt colder the next morning—not with the crisp chill of winter, but something deeper, as though the walls themselves had grown wary. The attack on Ernie had shaken the staff, rattled the students, and narrowed eyes everywhere now turned toward Harry.
"Even Professor Sprout looked at me like I'd grown fangs," Harry muttered as he walked with Hermione through the corridor leading to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Hermione clutched her books tighter. "You don't need to explain yourself to anyone."
"I know," Harry said, but his voice lacked conviction.
From behind them, footsteps echoed.
Harry turned—Draco.
He walked with his usual slow stride, but there was something restrained about his expression, as if holding back words.
They locked eyes for a moment. Then Draco broke contact and walked past without saying anything.
Hermione frowned. "He's been quiet again."
Harry nodded. "Something's wrong."
---
The Dungeons – Later That Afternoon
Snape stood over a shattered vial of powdered essence—dragonbone root, once rare and useful, now dust at his feet. He hadn't dropped it.
It had fallen from the shelf moments before he'd entered the room.
He knelt slowly.
The shaking of the castle… it wasn't physical. It was magical.
Something under Hogwarts had begun to pulse again—just faintly, like a heartbeat under stone.
He murmured a protective incantation and repaired the bottle, but his hand lingered near his wand as he stood. The energy was spreading upward now. Not just through pipes.
Through spells.
Through memories.
Snape's face was unreadable as he swept from the room, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow torn loose.
---
Hospital Wing
Ernie Macmillan lay still on a hospital bed, frozen mid-expression, eyes wide and terrified.
Madam Pomfrey had tried every healing spell and remedy in her arsenal. Nothing changed.
Harry stood at the edge of the curtain with Hermione, peering through cautiously.
He had seen the same blank stare in Colin. Now again.
"Do you think they saw it directly?" he whispered.
Hermione shook her head. "They'd be dead. It must've been a reflection again. Glass. Water. A mirror…"
Harry's stomach twisted. "Then it's just luck they survived."
Hermione nodded grimly. "And luck runs out."
---
That Evening – Library Window Seat
Draco sat alone by the wide arched window that overlooked the darkened grounds. His Transfiguration book lay unopened beside him.
He didn't notice Harry until he sat down beside him.
"You left pretty quick earlier," Harry said.
Draco didn't respond.
"I saw the way you looked at Ernie."
Draco's jaw clenched. "They're going to blame you."
"I know."
"Are they wrong?"
Harry went still.
Then, softly: "Do you think they are?"
Draco finally looked at him, and for the first time, there was no sarcasm, no smirk. Just quiet confusion.
"No," he said. "I don't."
And somehow, Harry didn't feel angry.
He just felt tired.
---
Meanwhile – Staff Meeting Room
The professors were gathered in a tight circle, voices low and urgent. Dumbledore stood at the center, quiet, fingers steepled.
"We are seeing a pattern now," he said. "But the question remains—where is it leading?"
Snape's eyes were narrowed, arms crossed tightly. "The creature isn't choosing its victims randomly."
"Bloodlines," McGonagall said sharply. "Half-bloods. Muggleborns. Those with less 'pure' ancestry."
Flitwick flinched. "If the basilisk is truly awake, then every moment we delay puts more students at risk."
Snape didn't speak until everyone had finished.
"I believe it's being manipulated," he said.
Dumbledore looked over. "By whom?"
Snape's gaze lingered on the map pinned to the far wall. "That's the question, Headmaster. And I intend to find the answer."
---
Gryffindor Tower – Late Night
Ron lay snoring. Hermione had fallen asleep in the armchair with a book still in her lap.
Harry sat near the dying fire, staring into the embers.
He was alone. Except… he wasn't.
"Potter," came a voice from behind him.
Harry turned—Draco stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed, but his expression unreadable.
"I couldn't sleep," he said quietly.
Harry stood. "Me neither."
They looked at each other in silence for a long moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them.
"I'm scared," Draco admitted at last. "But not just of the creature."
Harry didn't ask what else he feared. He already knew.