At nine in the morning, Melvin finished breakfast in high spirits and headed to the fourth-floor restricted area to clear out the secret chamber he'd set up.
At the fourth-floor staircase, a dozen students loitered suspiciously, their eyes darting around with barely contained excitement. Their faces practically screamed their intent to explore. Blocking their way were school rules, the one-eyed, hunchbacked witch statue, and Filch, the caretaker, with his cat, Mrs. Norris.
The Gryffindor twins, George and Fred, along with Lee Jordan, Slytherin's Cassius, Ravenclaw's Roger…
Melvin scanned the group, recognizing familiar faces. Lately, the whole school had been buzzing with curiosity about the fourth-floor restricted area. Only bold students like the twins would dare linger here during break.
Spotting a nearby Hufflepuff, he teased with mock surprise, "Cedric, you're caught up in this mischief too?"
Cedric Diggory, a third-year, was already seen as Hufflepuff's future leader. With stellar grades, strong magical ability, and exceptional Quidditch skills, he was a rare talent—Hogwarts hadn't seen his like in a decade, and Hufflepuff, perhaps a century. Everyone was certain he'd captain the Quidditch team, become a prefect, and maybe even Head Boy, his future dazzlingly bright.
Cedric got along with everyone effortlessly, his friendliness genuine, unlike the calculated networking of pure-blood elites. It never felt forced or distant.
Gifted yet humble, kind yet resilient.
"Good morning, Professor Levent," Cedric greeted, sidestepping the teasing. After half a year in Muggle Studies, they knew their professor's playful nature. He admitted candidly, "We're all curious about the underground passage, but Headmaster Dumbledore hasn't lifted the lockdown. Mr. Filch won't let us through, so we're just hanging out here during break."
"I see…" Melvin said, a plan forming in his mind.
"Are you going in, Professor?" George and Fred pushed forward, eyes gleaming.
"Yes, the last room's a bit tricky. The house-elves can't manage it, so I have to clean it up myself. It's tedious work…" Melvin sighed, feigning distress.
The redheaded twins lit up.
"Professor, we can help!"
"Yeah, we're not afraid of a little work!"
"Having students help… I don't know," Melvin said, seeming torn but intrigued, as if weighing the idea.
"What's it got to do with you two?" Lee Jordan shoved the twins aside, indignant. "Professor Levent teaches *our* Muggle Studies class. You lot didn't even take it—why're you butting in?"
George and Fred weren't having it, pushing back in unison. Roger and Cassius exchanged a glance and joined the fray. Cedric, ever subtle, stepped forward and gave a gentle nudge to help.
Soon, the Muggle Studies students were playfully ganging up on the "outsiders."
"Hey, we're all classmates—let's not fight," Melvin said, his tone righteous as he discouraged discord. To foster unity, he decided to include all the curious students in the task.
Filch frowned, looking conflicted.
"If Dumbledore asks, just say I insisted on bringing the students," Melvin said solemnly, exuding professorial responsibility.
"No, we wanted to go in!"
"It was our idea!"
"Punish us if you have to!"
The students chimed in, their loyalty touching.
A heartwarming scene of teacher-student harmony and camaraderie unfolded.
---
Perhaps moved by their display of unity, Filch relented, letting Melvin lead the students into the room.
The chamber was empty except for a dull wooden trapdoor. No sign of the ferocious three-headed dog. The students examined the bite marks on the door and claw scratches on the floor, imagining the beast's might and how Harry and his friends had lulled it with a flute.
"Professor, is it true Fluffy falls asleep to music?" a student asked.
Their Care of Magical Creatures textbook mentioned it, but without seeing it themselves, they wanted confirmation from the professor to satisfy their curiosity with a thrilled gasp or two.
Melvin replied, "Fluffy's been moved to the Forbidden Forest for now. He won't be sent away anytime soon. You could ask Professor Kettleburn—maybe you'll get a chance to see him up close."
The students' faces lit up with anticipation.
"Alright, let's get to work," Melvin said, lifting the trapdoor and gesturing to the group. "The Devil's Snare below hasn't been replanted yet. Who's going first?"
"Me!" George raised his hand and leapt down, yelling the whole way. The others followed like dumplings plunging into a pot.
"Lee, move your butt!"
"Whose smelly foot is this!?"
"Ready? I'm about to loosen the Devil's Snare!"
"Cedric, wait—he hasn't moved his butt yet!"
"I'm stuck, I can't move!"
"Do it quick—the Snare's choking me!"
"Aaah!"
The cavern erupted in chaos.
Melvin waited until it quieted down, ready to jump in, when the door swung open. A panting young witch looked at him. "P-Professor, I have some questions."
---
In the underground corridor, the students moved forward, discussing the room's setup and how to navigate it.
"Harry's awake, then?" Melvin asked, trailing behind. Though phrased as a question, he didn't sound surprised. Harry's injuries were minor—mostly soul tremors from contact with Voldemort's spirit. Three days of rest were enough to stabilize him.
Hermione shared what she'd overheard in the hospital wing. "Dumbledore told Harry that Snape was protecting him because Harry's father once saved Snape's life. Quirrell couldn't bear Harry's touch because of a powerful ancient magic Lily left on him. And Nicolas Flamel's heard about what happened at Hogwarts. He's meeting the Headmaster in a few days to discuss destroying the Philosopher's Stone."
Melvin already knew the first points, but the Stone's fate surprised him. He'd thought Dumbledore destroyed it before Harry woke. Then again, it could just be the Headmaster spinning tales for kids.
"Professor, I have some questions," Hermione said, looking up at the pensive Melvin, mustering her courage. "The Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort… did Dumbledore mean for us to get involved?"
"What makes you think that?"
"The day Hagrid took Harry to Diagon Alley, he was tasked with picking up a package from Gringotts. That same afternoon, Quirrell attacked the bank. And it was Quirrell who mentioned Nicolas Flamel's name to us…
"Dumbledore gave Harry the Invisibility Cloak, guiding him to discover the Mirror of Erised's purpose…
"When our investigation stalled, you gave us Chocolate Frogs. When Quirrell was about to act, you warned us…" Hermione frowned, her expression serious. "Too many coincidences stop being coincidences."
Melvin wanted to defend Hagrid—he wasn't Dumbledore's pawn; his leaks were just carelessness. "You're sharp, Hermione," he said, ruffling her hair. Treating her like an equal, he chose his words carefully. "Harry's mother destroyed Voldemort's body at the cost of her life. It's hard to say, but it's a kind of fated choice. When Voldemort returns, he and Harry will be locked in a fight to the death."
Hermione pondered his words, the future feeling distant.
"Harry and Voldemort's enmity runs deeper than you think. Their fates are entwined, like Cronus and Zeus in Olympian myths."
Melvin paused, realizing he'd picked up Dumbledore's cryptic habits. "In short, Dumbledore wants Harry to face his enemy as much as possible, to hone himself for the day he defeats Voldemort for good."
Hermione sensed something deeper in his expression, but before she could press, Cedric called out from ahead. "Professor, is this the last room?"
George and Fred shouted, "Is it dangerous?"
"Can we go right in?"
The shattered chess pieces and the dark, congealed bloodstains from the troll excited the students. But the chessboard's magic was dispelled, and the troll's corpse was gone, leaving them itching for the real experience.
Hearing the final room was untouched, they were eager to dive in.
"No life-threatening danger," Melvin called back cheerfully.
The students cheered and rushed forward.
"…"
Hermione recalled the room's setup: a broken puppet statue, a smashed hanging corpse, but the Night Moths and bats were intact, along with that odd rope.
Sure enough, minutes later, piercing screams echoed from the room. The boys hit sky-high notes in unison.
Melvin waited for the shrieks to die down before strolling in. Hermione instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
The room was pitch-black.
Night Moths and bats rustled their wings. The students huddled together, trembling. Lee Jordan's robes were soaked. They'd entered without light, then lit their wands, only to be swarmed by the light-seeking creatures, thinking they'd be eaten.
Thankfully, Cedric stayed calm, directing everyone to douse their wands and group up.
In their panic, they'd lost their bearings and stood frozen, waiting for the professor.
Melvin skipped *Lumos Maxima* and cast a standard lighting charm. As the students' terrified eyes met his, he flicked his wand, sending a glowing orb floating upward. It drew the moths and bats, stirring a breeze that ruffled their robes.
More orbs followed, attracting all the light-seeking creatures and illuminating the room.
Thousands of Night Moths and bats wove through the orbs. Individually weak, their synchronized flight created a mesmerizing spectacle.
The young wizards gazed up, eyes sparkling with awe.
"Why does Gringotts recruit Curse-Breakers worldwide every year?" Melvin asked.
"To dig up gold from ruins," Lee blurted out.
"Because Curse-Breakers die in ancient wizards' tombs," Melvin said, his tone eerie, matching the fluttering creatures. The students shivered. "Goblins train new Curse-Breakers with one rule: never rush into an uncharted space."
Reflecting on their actions, the students fell silent.
They were only third-years, and inside Hogwarts, letting their guard down was natural. Melvin didn't dwell on it, letting them reflect as he cleared his throat. "It's good to scout unfamiliar places, but don't reveal your position. If attacked, don't panic. Didn't you want to help? Your task today is to use the moths' light-seeking nature to trap them in boxes."
Cedric and the others noticed rough wooden boxes in the corner.
The third-years dove into the task with enthusiasm, soon finding it fun. Hermione helped Melvin retrieve dark magical items, while others joined in curiously.
When asked about the items, Melvin explained openly:
"The Suffocating Puppet—attacks when you're off guard. Made of poplar, it was falling apart when I got it. I reinforced it with copper, but Quirrell broke it. I'll see if the seller can fix it.
"The Opal Necklace—cursed so heavily, any detection spell would spot it. Always check strange magical items before wearing them. Build good habits young; some wizards never learn, even at a hundred.
"The Hangman's Noose—derived from an improved *Incarcerous*. Quirrell used this spell. Don't burn rope-based attacks—if it doesn't turn to ash instantly, you're in trouble."
Revisiting the room, Hermione noticed details she'd missed: lingering spiderwebs, sticky and patience-draining; strange symbols on the walls, irritating if stared at too long.
After nearly an hour of cleaning, the students' curiosity was sated, and Melvin saved time. Everyone was pleased.
Escorting them out of the fourth-floor corridor, Melvin returned to the passage to pack the boxes, planning to sell the moths and bats to Kettleburn. Inside, he found a white-bearded wizard leaning against the wall.
"…"
Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Brilliant lesson—detailed, engaging, and fun. Melvin, interested in taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Absolutely not."
"A pity…" Dumbledore's tone and expression held little regret, as if he'd asked on a whim.
"You didn't come just to talk about teaching, did you?"
"Nicolas Flamel's visiting Hogsmeade this weekend. He wants to discuss the Memory Mirror with you."