Cronos POV
"The Bloom"
The dungeons of Hogwarts were quiet at this hour—still, shadowed, and chill with centuries of damp stone. Cronos Greywood moved through them like memory itself, silver-gray cloak brushing the edges of flickering torchlight.
In his hand, a small glass case—sealed with preservation charms—held the rarest thing he'd touched in years.
The Chrono Bloom shimmered softly within, its petals folding and unfurling in a rhythmic pulse. Not wilting. Not growing. Caught in a loop. Breathing time, not air.
He knocked once—sharp and precise—on the door to Severus Snape's office.
A pause.
"Enter."
The room was as he remembered from his student years: too many jars, too little light, and the faint scent of burnt sage and dried bloodroot. Potions simmered quietly along the walls in suspended stasis.
Snape looked up from a thick, annotated tome, dark eyes already narrowing. "Professor Greywood," he said, voice smooth as silk but no warmer than the stone walls. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?"
Cronos approached without hesitation, placing the glass case on Snape's desk. The Bloom pulsed once—softly—and Snape's gaze sharpened.
"That," Cronos said, "was found blooming between two seconds in the Forbidden Forest."
Snape leaned forward slowly. "Chrono Bloom…" he muttered, as though testing the words for truth. "I've read of it. Thought it myth."
"I thought it anomaly. Now I'm not so sure."
Snape opened the case carefully and studied the flower. "Temporal respiration," he said. "It breathes in present magic and exhales residual echoes. Unstable, highly sensitive. Useless in most potions."
"But not all," Cronos said quietly.
Snape's gaze flicked up to him. "You want to use it."
"I want to understand what it's reacting to. Why now? Why here?"
A beat passed.
Snape closed the case with gentle precision. "It would need to be distilled in a neutral aether. Stabilized with crushed golden nettle, maybe a thread of unicorn mane. Nothing with phoenix trace."
"Too volatile?"
Snape's lip twitched—half smile, half sneer. "Too honest."
They both stood silent for a moment.
"You know," Snape said at last, "your theories annoyed most of our professors. Too abstract. Too circular. But I always found them… unsettlingly precise."
Cronos inclined his head. "And I always admired your refusal to be impressed by anything that wasn't lethal."
Snape's mouth tightened at the edges—just for a second.
"Leave it with me," he said at last. "Give me three nights. And don't tell Dumbledore. He has a way of making curiosity feel like betrayal."
Cronos turned to go, then paused. "Thank you, Severus."
"Don't thank me. Yet."
The dungeon corridor was nearly empty. Torchlight flickered against the damp stone, casting long shadows that didn't quite move with the walls.
Cronos stepped out of Snape's office, glass case tucked under one arm, thoughts already spiraling into formulae and timelines.
A voice interrupted his path.
"Professor Greywood."
Professor Quirrell stood a few paces ahead, robes slightly rumpled, hands folded in front of him. His tone was polite—measured.
"Professor Quirrell," Cronos replied with a slight nod.
They stopped just short of passing each other.
"I hear you've been… busy," Quirrell said, voice soft. "Quite the impression on the first-years."
Cronos gave a neutral smile. "They're curious. I encourage that."
Quirrell's eyes flicked to the case under Cronos's arm. "Rare specimens, too. You certainly waste no time."
There was a beat.
Cronos raised a brow. "Was there something you needed?"
Quirrell's smile held.
"Only conversation. Hogwarts hasn't seen your kind of magic in… a long while." He tilted his head slightly. "It's always fascinating to see how theory meets ambition."
Cronos's expression didn't shift. "Ambition without purpose is just noise."
Quirrell nodded slowly. "Of course."
Inside Quirrell's mind, a darker presence stirred—silent, watching, calculating. This one might be useful… or dangerous.Time is a power unlike any other. It bends, twists, waits. It could be the key to everything.
The silence between them stretched just a second too long.
Then Quirrell stepped aside, offering the path forward with a small gesture. "I'll leave you to it. These halls are colder than they used to be."
Cronos passed without another word.
Behind him, the faint echo of Quirrell's footsteps faded—but something else lingered. A stillness. A pause.
Like the corridor itself had inhaled—and was waiting to exhale.
The days slid quickly toward Halloween…
Harry's POV
Harry walked through the bustling corridors with Hermione, Ron, and Neville. Everyone seemed excited about Halloween.
"I can't wait for the feast," Harry said with a grin. "The decorations looks amazing."
Ron nodded. "Yeah, and I'm hoping for tons of candy."
Hermione smiled. "And maybe some fun surprises."
Neville laughed. "I just hope we don't get into too much trouble."
Harry laughed with them. Halloween was always the best day at Hogwarts — full of magic, laughter, and a little mischief.
Cronos's POV
The Great Hall was alive with chatter and clinking plates, but Cronos found a quiet corner near the staff table, his silver-gray cloak folded neatly beside him and the monocle resting lightly against his temple.
He exchanged nods and soft smiles with familiar faces.
Professor McGonagall approached, her sharp eyes crinkling kindly. "Cronos, how are the first lessons going? The students seem quite… engaged."
"More than I expected," Cronos replied, returning her smile. "Time magic is subtle but they're curious."
Flitwick waved a tiny hand as he joined them, his cheerful grin infectious. "Ah, our Ravenclaw alumnus—still pushing boundaries, I see."
Cronos chuckled softly. "Some things never change."
They spoke quietly about classes, school news, and the little oddities that always cropped up during the school year. The warmth of the hall felt like a balm after the weight of his secret studies.
As their conversation continued, the heavy doors at the far end of the hall remained closed—for now.
Cronos sat quietly, watching the laughter and chatter around him. The warmth of the hall contrasted sharply with the gnawing unease in his mind. The troll — or whatever was coming in its place — was a shadow looming over this day.
They don't know, he thought. No one does.
His fingers absently traced the silver ring on his hand, the weight of time magic pressing down on him. This Halloween wouldn't be like the others. Not if he had any say in it.
I have to be ready, he reminded himself.
He glanced toward the staff table, where faces masked their own worries. But Cronos's eyes were fixed on the future — fragile, shifting, and dangerous.
The heavy doors of the Great Hall slammed open with a loud bang, silencing the lively chatter instantly.
Professor Quirrell stumbled inside, pale and breathless, shouting, "A troll is loose in the castle! Everyone stay calm and get to safety!"
Heads whipped toward him in shock. Students and teachers alike froze.
Cronos remained seated, his silver-gray cloak folded neatly beside him, monocle glinting faintly in the light. His expression was unreadable—calm, collected.
Not a troll, he thought. But close enough to stir fear.
He stood slowly, voice steady as he addressed the gathered staff nearby. "We must act quickly and precisely. This is no ordinary disturbance."
While others rushed into action with panic, Cronos's mind was already mapping the temporal ripples beneath the surface, preparing to contain what was truly coming.
Harry and Ron burst into the girls' toilet, breathless and tense. Hermione stood near the sinks, wand raised, eyes wide but steady. The hulking beast before them flickered wildly, its form twisted and unstable — as if caught in a broken moment of time.
"It's not a normal troll," Harry whispered urgently. "Look at it — time's all warped around it."
Ron raised his wand, shouting, "Expelliarmus!" but the spell passed through the creature's shimmering outline like smoke.
Suddenly, a calm, commanding voice cut through the chaos.
"Stand back."
Cronos Greywood stepped forward, his silver monocle catching the flickering light. The silver ring on his finger glowed softly as he moved.
First came a slow incantation — Tempus frena. The air thickened, and the beast's erratic, jerking movements slowed, limbs stretching less wildly.
"Vinculum tardus," he whispered next, silvery threads weaving out from his ring, wrapping the creature's limbs and dampening its chaotic energy.
The beast growled in distorted echoes, thrashing weakly against the binding.
Then, Cronos raised his free hand, conjuring a multifaceted crystalline prism hovering just above his palm. The prism shimmered, refracting shifting streams of glowing, colored light — not ordinary light, but ribbons of time itself.
Beams of temporal energy shot forth, wrapping the beast in an ever-changing cascade of slowed, accelerated, and reversed moments. The creature staggered, disoriented by the assault on its fractured time.
With a final focused gesture, the prism collapsed inward with a brilliant pulse, sending a cascade of sparkling light across the room.
The beast howled once, then dissolved into harmless motes of blue and silver, fading softly into the air.
Hermione exhaled sharply, lowering her wand. "Is it over?"
Cronos nodded, eyes steady but serious. "For now. Temporal fractures like this are rare — but dangerous."
The bathroom door opened abruptly as footsteps approached—Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and other professors hurried in, faces etched with concern.
Dumbledore's gaze was piercing as he looked to Cronos. "Professor Greywood, please explain."
Adjusting his monocle, Cronos replied calmly, "A temporal anomaly, Headmaster. This creature was a physical manifestation of fractured time. Containment required specialized magic."
Harry stepped forward, breath still catching. "Thank you, Professor. You saved us."
Ron nodded eagerly. "Yeah, thanks a lot!"
Hermione smiled, exhausted but grateful. "That was incredible."
Dumbledore's eyes softened but his voice held a note of warning. "This incident reminds us all — there are forces at work here beyond our usual understanding. We must remain vigilant."
Cronos's gaze darkened slightly. "I will watch closely."
The professors left as whispers of the attack spread through the castle.
Halloween at Hogwarts had taken a new and unsettling turn.
The corridors buzzed with quiet chatter as students returned from the aftermath of the attack. Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked together toward the Great Hall, the adrenaline slowly fading but the awe lingering.
"Did you see how Professor Greywood handled that?" Ron said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That prism spell was incredible — like something out of a story."
Hermione nodded, eyes bright. "He was calm the whole time. And so precise. Time magic isn't something you just mess around with. He made it look effortless."
Harry smiled, still catching his breath. "I never thought I'd see magic like that at Hogwarts. It was… like watching time itself bend."
Ron grinned. "Yeah, and he saved our skins too. I'm just glad we didn't have to take that beast on by ourselves."
Hermione glanced around nervously. "But it's scary too. If there are more of those temporal fractures, who knows what could happen?"
Harry's expression darkened. "We'll have to keep our eyes open. But I'm glad we've got Professor Greywood watching our backs."
Their footsteps echoed softly as they continued down the hall, the weight of the night's events settling around them—but the respect for their mysterious new professor shining bright.