Deep in the night, a dreadful storm assaulted Hogwarts, with rain so fierce it seemed as though the very heavens had split open.
BOOM!
Thunder tore through the sky, lightning flashed and writhed in the air, momentarily transforming the inky blackness into bright day.
If one possessed enough magical intuition, and truly gazed upon this terrifying spectacle in the sky, they might even discern terrible flames burning above the clouds where the lightning raged and roared.
Even without such keen senses, merely looking up, one would see the gloomy sky tinged with an eerie red, like a dark river of magma suspended overhead, even through the torrential downpour.
"This is just like hell!"
A few soaked young wizards, huddled under an eave, shivered as Ron stared at the scene.
"I can feel something terrible happening," Goyle whimpered, trembling as if something had truly frightened him. His chubby face was contorted with terror. "Draco, I sense an evil power, not the dark arts kind of evil, but the purest kind of evil."
Draco frowned, glancing at Crabbe beside him.
Crabbe nodded gravely. "Very evil. Demons are screaming!"
"That's simply ridiculous!" Hermione scoffed from nearby. "If you had paid attention in History of Magic class, and properly read your textbooks, you'd know there are no demons in this world."
"You're the one who's ridiculous!" Draco snapped, glaring at Hermione. "You have no idea what immense power pure-blood wizards truly possess. You can say Goyle and Crabbe are a bit dim, but in some magical fields, you'll never be able to compare to them!"
"Hmph."
Hermione sneered, not wishing to argue with those three fools. She looked up, squinting at the sky. "Believe it or not, I can feel it. This is Professor Lockhart's magic."
"!!!" Ron, who had been reaching out to catch the rainwater, quickly withdrew his hand upon hearing this.
"I agree with Hermione's guess!" Harry nodded emphatically.
Draco scoffed, "What profound insight does our Boy Who Lived have now? You're not going to say it's just 'a feeling' again, are you?"
The reason they were out so late tonight was that Professor Lockhart had grouped them into the same adventure party, and they had been arguing over whose lead to follow.
Harry's trio and Draco's trio couldn't agree on anything.
Draco believed that Harry always had this uncanny "feeling," and then stubbornly insisted that this "feeling" was right, which was simply preposterous. He thought it more reliable to trust the 'spiritual intuition' bestowed upon Goyle and Crabbe, these 'pure ones,' by their bloodline.
They began seeking supporters for their respective sides.
Harry's group found Neville, Ginny, and the Weasley twins.
Draco's group attempted to persuade those who also believed in 'spiritual intuition,' like Luna and Cedric.
However, everyone else had their own pride and didn't believe these two trios possessed such authoritative leadership.
So, the two trios agreed to a duel: a late-night race through the adventure chamber at the edge of the Forbidden Forest to see who was superior.
Yet, before they could even reach the chamber, they were forced back by the terrifying downpour.
Within the storm, a dreadful, mysterious power seemed to rage, making all the young wizards instinctively resist entering this mysterious place that felt imbued with a powerful will.
As their Professor Lockhart would say: "This is not your adventure, children. You must be more cautious in deciding whether to interfere."
"Then let's compete in this!" Ron suddenly declared, and seeing everyone look his way, he grabbed a broomstick nearby and pointed to the sky. "Let's go up there and see if it's demons or Professor Lockhart!"
He didn't actually agree with Hermione's assessment. Although he knew Professor Lockhart possessed the ability to control the weather, this terrifying scene was vastly different from the magic Professor Lockhart had previously used to heal minds and bodies. One was light, the other dark—the distinction was too great.
He also didn't quite trust Harry's intuition. Harry always yearned for adventure and danger, and his intuition always led them into the most perilous situations, making it easy for them to stumble into trouble.
But Ron was fiercely loyal to his two companions.
Right or wrong, he stood by them.
He was a true Gryffindor, a steadfast warrior, a brave warrior, a warrior who protected his friends.
He looked proudly at Draco's group. "Do you dare?"
Ron didn't need to turn around to know that Harry and Hermione would stand firmly behind him, glaring at Draco's group, even if the coming adventure proved perilous.
"What's there to be afraid of!" Draco snatched up his broomstick, laughing at his two bumbling friends. "It seems these Gryffindors haven't been taught enough lessons on the Quidditch pitch; they're looking for another challenge with us."
Goyle straightened his hulking frame, looking at the three "chickens" before him with an arrogant expression. "Then we'll just defeat you again!"
Harry's face flushed with anger. "Draco, you listen! You always lose! Understand?"
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances, chuckling mischievously with Draco. "He's agitated."
Harry immediately drew his wand, wishing he could hex them on the spot.
Thankfully, he took a deep breath and calmed down. Seeing Ron and Hermione had already gripped their brooms and wands, he declared, "Alright, then let's compete. I'll count, one, two..."
Before he could even say "three," Draco's trio had already shot into the sky, swiftly soaring towards the stormy canopy.
"They always do this!" Ron cursed, swinging onto his broom. He glanced at Hermione with a touch of concern. "This competition isn't really fair; you're the only one who isn't a Quidditch player."
Hermione proudly lifted her head. "Don't underestimate me!"
And so, the three of them followed, riding their brooms into the heart of the storm.
Indeed, Hermione's broom-flying technique was noticeably less refined than the others. She performed only adequately in this area. Even though she had thoroughly researched the magical mechanics of broomsticks, a gap in skill remained.
She understood the reason herself; she had listened intently in Professor Lockhart's classes and could analyze the cause.
It was because deep down, she resisted the 'foolish' act of flying on a broomstick. This resistance stemmed partly from the negative perception of 'evil witches' flying on brooms, ingrained by Muggle culture, and partly from a subtle, inherent Muggle prejudice against wizards, deeming such ancient practices utterly absurd.
Thus, Hermione clearly observed that most wizards raised in Muggle households, whether Muggle-born or half-blood, often performed poorly in Quidditch.
Just as Professor Lockhart had said: "If you don't embrace it, it won't choose you."
Fortunately, this wasn't a Quidditch match.
This was a more complex adventure, demanding a wider range of skills. Hermione skillfully cast Bubble-Head Charms on her two companions and a Lightning-Rod Charm to deflect ordinary lightning strikes. She then waved her wand, casting Slowing Charms at Draco and his friends who were chasing ahead.
Even if her speed wasn't the fastest, even if her broomstick wasn't the most agile, in aerial combat, she remained the most striking presence among them.
Adventure, after all, is always the most perilous undertaking.
As the young wizards soared tens of thousands of feet into the sky, they began to implicitly agree not to attack each other, or at least to avoid anything beyond the most basic Disarming Charms. To fall from such a height would mean an irreversible end.
Professor Lockhart's adventure lessons had taught them not only courage but also immense wisdom in combat.
They quickly soared into the clouds, where the lightning was so terrifying that everyone had to slow down, wary of strikes that could come at any moment.
They soon realized they had done something foolish: they possessed no power to withstand the lightning.
And what's more...
"Fiendfyre!"
Crabbe excitedly shrieked, "There's Fiendfyre above the clouds! I can feel it!"
Hermione's face paled. Fiendfyre was a dreadful Dark Art, said to become utterly uncontrollable once it reached a certain intensity. If it truly was Fiendfyre above the clouds, this vast expanse covering the entire sky could very well burn Hogwarts to ashes!
"We must find Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore immediately! This is no joke!" Her expression was grim.
"It's too late!" Harry, his broomstick hovering tensely, gazed upwards at the colossal, indistinct flame-monsters moving above the clouds. "It has already fully formed!"
Not only the trio but Draco and Goyle also looked a little pale.
Only Crabbe, screaming with delight, exclaimed, "It's Professor Lockhart! It must be Professor Lockhart! What a magnificent Fiendfyre curse! By Merlin's beard, my father would weep if he saw this spell!"
He spurred his broom forward like a madman, charging towards the clouds, seemingly unconcerned about being burned alive.
"Vincent!!!" Draco bellowed, "Get back here!"
But his shouts had no effect on Crabbe's decision, so he cursed loudly and spurred his broom after him, attempting to drag the fool back.
Goyle quickly followed behind.
"By Merlin's double ponytails!" Ron gasped, "Are they all mad?"
Just then, he noticed Harry also flying courageously towards Crabbe, crouching low to make himself faster.
So, he and Hermione quickly chased after them.
Soon, the surrounding clouds grew scorching hot. They felt as though they had entered a terrifying current of hot steam. Despite the abundant rain, they felt an unsettling dryness.
Lightning surged, tearing and scorching the sky, emitting an extremely strange, burnt-air stench that was suffocating.
"We can't get any closer!" Hermione shrieked. "The steam here will boil us alive!"
Not just her, but the others also felt a stinging, burning sensation on their skin.
"Stupefy!" Ron could no longer endure the intense heat. He began casting at Crabbe, who was farthest ahead, hoping to stop the madman so Harry, who had now surpassed Draco and Goyle, could rescue him.
Hermione also began to cast Freezing Charms at Crabbe, and Draco finally reacted, waving his wand to conjure snakes from the air, trying to entangle Crabbe.
This proved effective!
Amidst the chaos, the rain, and the thunder, Crabbe's body suddenly stiffened and he fell from his broom. Harry, with a sharp twist and dive, grabbed Crabbe by his collar.
But Crabbe was too heavy, and the immense force caused Harry's broom to plummet, almost pulling him off.
Draco finally arrived, flying beneath Crabbe and using his broom to support Crabbe's body, pulling his foolish friend into his arms.
He looked at Harry with a complex expression, but Harry merely slumped, exhausted, onto his broom, panting.
Just then, the surrounding lightning surged violently, sweeping away the scalding steam around them.
They seemed to be in the calm eye of a terrible hurricane, with the swirling winds, scorching steam, and lightning creating a terrifying spectacle, as if falling into it would mean instant obliteration.
"Look!" Goyle pointed upwards. Through the cylindrical opening torn in the storm, the Fiendfyre was also flung aside.
They all looked up and could faintly discern a tall figure floating in mid-air, waving his wand, merging lightning, fire, and scalding steam with a floating book before him.
It was... Professor Lockhart!
"Children, staying up so late won't help you grow tall, you know," Professor Lockhart said, looking down at them in the eye of the hurricane, a brilliant smile on his face.
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