"Dorian, he's hurt—we have to take him to the hospital wing!"James's face was filled with terror. He had never seen anything like it before.
"Take one shoulder, I'll take the other," said Dorian as he bent down, lifting the boy. He grabbed a nearby towel and gently covered the boy's body."Let's make haste, James—before it's too late."
They carried the boy out of the bathroom. James was trembling, nearly drowning under the boy's weight.
"We can't take the stairs—he's too heavy, and it would take far too long," said Dorian, readjusting his grip."This way—follow me."
They hurried through the winding corridors of the castle. Just as James thought they were lost, Dorian veered suddenly toward a stone wall.
"Where are you going, Dorian? That's a dead end! There's a wall—can't you see?"
Dorian didn't reply. He walked straight into the wall—and passed through it.James froze for a second, then stepped forward—and found himself slipping through it as well.
On the other side stood the grand doors to the hospital wing: towering, dark oak with a golden winged cross engraved in the center.
They rushed forward and shoved the doors open.
Inside, Madam Filmier was tending to other injured students.
"Roy, I tell you, if you keep fencing like that, you'll lose that eye for good," she warned, wrapping a bandage around a boy's head.
"Madam Filmier! Madam Filmier!" James called out urgently.
She turned, clearly annoyed—until she saw the boy slumped between them. Her expression changed in an instant.
"Heavens—quickly, put him on the bed!" she commanded.
They laid the boy down gently."Oh, goddess… what happened to him? He looks awful."She shot them both a sharp look.
"It wasn't us, ma'am—we found him like that. In the steaming room," James explained, his voice shaky.
Madam Filmier said nothing more. Her focus shifted to the boy."Quick! Bring me the green vial from that cabinet—far end of the room," she ordered, pointing urgently.
James bolted toward the cabinet. He threw it open and stared."Which one? There are three green vials!" he yelled.
"Bring them all!"
James grabbed all three and rushed back. Madam Filmier took them, inspecting each label. She selected one:Zink's Purifying Agent, written in bold red letters.
"Two drops should be enough," she said, pouring a capful into the boy's mouth.
Within seconds, the boy began to shake violently.
"Hold him down!" she shouted.
Dorian and James pressed down on the boy's arms and shoulders. His eyes rolled back, and black smoke began to seep from his wounds.
"Will he be alright?" James asked, breathless.
"Too soon to tell," she said quietly. "He's stable for now. But you two must leave. The hospital wing is no place for the healthy."
She ushered them out and shut the door behind them.
In the hallway, James turned to Dorian."What do you think happened to him? What was wrong?"
Dorian paused."He looked… cursed. Very curious, I must say." He patted James on the shoulder. "Take care."
He turned and walked away.
"Hey—wait up!" James called. But Dorian was already gone.
James stood there a moment, his mind racing. Slowly, he began to drift down the spiraling staircase, lost in thought. He eventually made his way back to the common room, barely remembering why he'd left the Great Hall in the first place.
Then it hit him.
"Johnny! I was looking for Johnny—and I haven't found him!" James thought, suddenly alert.
He spun around in a hurry—and collided straight into someone.
"Ouch!" he yelped, rubbing his forehead from the sudden throbbing pain.
"There you are, James," said a familiar voice.
James looked up—and there he was. The very person he'd been searching for.
"Johnny!" he gasped. "Bloody hell, mate, where were you? I've been looking everywhere—no clue, nothing!" James's tone was sharp with worry.
"I was in the Raven Pan, checking for mail. Mum said she'd send me a new sleigh—and it arrived! Been waiting for it all morning. It's brilliant, I might add," Johnny said with a grin, completely unbothered by his absence.
"Well, come on! Let's go to the field—I want to test it out right now!" said Johnny, already heading toward the castle doors.
James hesitated for a moment—his thoughts still heavy with what had just happened—but then took off after him.
"Wait—let me grab my gear first!" James called, nearly out of breath as he chased after Johnny, who was practically sprinting with excitement.
They finally reached the snowy fields and began setting up their sleighs. James started telling Johnny everything that had happened earlier that morning. As he spoke, Johnny's expression shifted—his face pale with shock. You could tell he hadn't expected that kind of story.
Johnny's new sleigh, meanwhile, was genuinely impressive. It gleamed with a sleek design, painted blue and white, giving the illusion that the boys were floating as they sat inside it. But looks were the least of its features. The sleigh was enchanted—fitted with a speed control charm, and unlike regular models, it had magical steering that let the rider turn it smoothly in any direction with the flick of a wrist.
They spent the rest of the morning playing in the snow, laughing as they raced across the field and skated along the river, which had frozen over completely. They weren't the only ones enjoying the winter day—other students had come out too. It was the weekend, and there were no classes.
But as the boys skated and played, the weather shifted.
The sky, once semi-sunny, turned dark as thick clouds rolled in. The wind picked up—sudden, fierce, and cold—knocking several students off balance and sending them tumbling onto the ice.
Panic followed.
Students scrambled off the river, trying to get away from the worsening weather. In the chaos, a loud, thunderous thud echoed across the ice.
"DOOO!"
The sound rang out again.Something was hitting the ice—from beneath the surface.
Another thud. Then another. Then… silence.
Suddenly, a deeper, louder CRACK split the air as the ice fractured violently. At that moment, James felt one emotion—absolute terror. He didn't stop to think. He just ran, bolting for the edge of the river.
Then came the final thud.
The ice gave way with a deafening shatter, and a vivid blue light flickered from beneath the surface—right where the crack had formed.
Everyone had made it off the ice just in time. They stood at the bank, wide-eyed, staring.
Then—a tentacle emerged.
It was long, dark, and glistening with icy water, rising nearly a meter into the air. Along its surface were dozens of eyes—unblinking, darting, surveying the children one by one.
Moments later, the creature raised three more tentacles, slamming them onto the ice with sickening squelches. Slowly, it began to climb upward, revealing the rest of its deformed, nightmarish body.
It was truly dreadful.
The creature took the shape of a five-year-old child, but horribly twisted. Its face looked half-eaten, as if something had chewed it apart and left it rotting mid-transformation. Where its limbs should've been were slimy, writhing black tentacles, each one dotted with unblinking eyes. In fact, its entire body was covered in them—eyes of all shapes and sizes, blinking, twitching, darting in all directions.
It took a step forward.
Beneath the ice, the fish swimming in the river suddenly flipped upside down, floating lifeless in the freezing water.
A student, frozen in terror, dared to whisper:"What… are you?"
At that moment, the creature stopped.
Its torn, disfigured head tilted unnaturally, twitching as if it were scanning the environment, sensing every heartbeat, every breath. Then, it opened its mouth—and gallons of dark water poured out, flooding onto the cracked ice.
Then came the scream.
A shrill, unnatural wail tore from its throat—a sound so horrible, so sharp and distorted, it sounded like someone strangling a cat underwater.
Several students collapsed immediately, overwhelmed by the sheer force of the sound.
"Run! Everyone run!" shouted one of the students.
Within moments, absolute chaos erupted across the field. Children screamed, stumbling over one another as they fled in terror. Snow flew up in every direction. Panic filled the air.
Each step the creature took brought death with it—the snow melted beneath its feet, and small plants shriveled and died under its weight. Even the air around it grew thinner, colder, darker.
It stretched out one of its slimy, ghostly tentacles toward a girl who hadn't made it far. In one swift motion, the creature pulled her toward it. Dozens of eyes along its limbs coiled around her, watching her from all angles.
She barely had time to scream.
She found herself staring directly into the creature's eyes—a mistake no one should ever make.
The creature's many eyes began to glow a dark, eerie black. Suddenly, the girl's eyes turned black as well. Wisps of black smoke began to seep from them… and from her mouth. The black fog twisted into a shape—pulling something from deep within her.
A faint, orange light flickered out of her chest—her life essence—and the creature drank it in.
Her skin began to pale, her lips turning blue. She lost all color, becoming as pale and hollow as one of the ghosts that haunted the castle halls.
The creature released her. She collapsed to the ground, limp.
Her once-beautiful blonde hair had turned white as the snow beneath her. Her lifeless body cracked the fragile ice—then began to sink.
"Help!"
The children cried out in horror. This was no longer a schoolyard—it was a war zone.
Students ran for their lives, but the monster was relentless, dragging the unconscious children one by one into its grasp. Each one it touched withered, becoming nothing more than soulless husks.
"I've had enough of this!" shouted Charles Bach, the Head Boy.
He stepped forward, pulling out his wand."Consedro! ingogio! Rofrect" he roared, bombarding the creature with spell after spell.
The creature flinched and reeled back, tentacles flailing.
Charles's spells were working.
"Get it, Charles!" the students cheered, rallying behind him.
Then—from within the creature—another head began to emerge.
Almost human in shape, it had green, rotting skin. Seaweed clung to its scalp like hair, and above its forehead was what looked like a cracked, barnacle-covered crown. Its yellow eyes glowed with cruelty, and a long, pink tongue hung out of its mouth between rows of sharp, shark-like teeth.
It opened its jaws—and released a bone-shaking screech.
The sound tore through the field like a shockwave, knocking every student off their feet. Even Charles staggered, trying to hold up a magical shield. But the force was too much—he was sent flying backwards, his wand flying from his hand.
Before he could recover, the creature's tentacles lashed out, wrapping around Charles's leg.
And then—it began to pull him in.
Amidst the chaos, his mind snapped into clarity, recalling a spell buried deep in memory—one not taught in the classroom, but whispered in old tongues.
"Per oculos meos aspice, in cor meum intuere.Hostes mei iacent occisi, nullus superstes—da mihi victoriam eorum."
He muttered the words under his breath. Soft, but sure.
A wind began to stir around him, circling like a living force. James raised his wand, eyes fixed on the creature—his voice unwavering.
And then—he cast it.
A sharp burst of light shot forward, slamming into the monster.
Silence.
Then—a massive, blood-curdling wail.
Two of the creature's tentacles were severed, flying clean off as the beast shrieked in agony, its cry rattling the very ground. It recoiled, writhing and bellowing.
The children paused, turning to look.
They were all in shock.
The monster—was hurt.
But James…
His vision blurred. A heavy dizziness settled into his skull. His knees buckled, and he dropped, one hand pressed to the frozen earth.
His breath was shallow.His wand trembled.And everything around him faded into a dull, pulsing hum.