The next evening came heavy with anticipation. Classes had drained the day away - Charms, History of Magic, Herbology - but none of it had the same weight in Cedric's, Oliver's, or Noah's minds as what waited after. Each boy, in his own way, had spent the day turning over questions, doubts, and wild hopes about the strange magic they had witnessed the night before.
Cedric walked toward the hidden passage with a steady pace, but his mind was whirring. If even half of what Ambrose showed us is possible… then what else have I been missing? What have we all been missing? He prided himself on being a hardworking, promising Hufflepuff, but compared to that living serpent of water, his levitation charm practice suddenly felt… trivial. Still, there was a thrill under his skin. He wanted more.
Oliver nearly bounced on his heels as they approached. He couldn't keep the grin off his face. All day, he had whispered to himself, trying to copy the words Ambrose had used. It hadn't worked, but that only made him hungrier. It's like… like being let into a secret treasure trove. And Ambrose, he's just… so cool about it. Calm, like he knows the whole world already. And he chose us!
Noah, trailing slightly behind, was quieter than usual. His thoughts were sharper, heavier. What game is Ambrose playing? No one just happens to have scrolls older than Hogwarts. No one casually knows magic lost for centuries. And that falcon of his - Axel - it doesn't blink like a normal bird. None of this is normal. And… I can't walk away. The truth was, skepticism burned in him, but so did curiosity. If Ambrose had answers, Noah intended to pry them out.
Ambrose was already waiting by the stone wall when they arrived, Axel perched on his shoulder. The falcon's eyes glowed faintly in the torchlight, unsettling yet mesmerizing. Students passing in the corridor spared quick, suspicious glances, whispering about the strange boy with the unnatural bird. But none lingered. Somehow, the space around Ambrose always seemed to thin, as though the castle itself kept prying eyes at bay.
"You came," Ambrose said softly, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "Good."
He pressed his palm to the wall again, and the doorway blossomed open, golden lines unfurling like roots of light. One by one, the boys slipped inside.
The chamber was as they'd left it, though this time a new object sat on the round table: a stack of thick parchment, blank and waiting. The lanterns hovered, swaying slightly as though stirred by invisible currents.
Oliver sat first, practically vibrating with excitement. Cedric followed, composed but expectant. Noah lingered near the edge before taking his seat, arms folded.
Ambrose stood before them, hands resting lightly on the table. "Last night was the beginning. Tonight, we take the first step to make this gathering more than an experiment. If we are to learn together, trust each other, we must bind that choice."
"Bind?" Cedric repeated. "You mean… an oath?"
Ambrose nodded. "Yes."
Oliver blinked. "Like… a proper, magical oath?"
"Nothing dangerous," Ambrose assured. "But binding enough that we cannot betray each other's trust lightly."
Noah's eyes narrowed. "That sounds… convenient. Convenient for you."
Ambrose met his gaze steadily. "It is convenient for all of us. If one of you spoke carelessly, the rest would pay the price. I would not risk it. Would you?"
Noah said nothing, but his jaw tightened.
Ambrose unrolled one of the parchments. With a flick of his fingers, runes bloomed upon it, ink unfurling as though drawn by an unseen hand. The letters shimmered in gold, then settled into black. At the top, it read: The Circle of Magic.
Cedric leaned closer. "So that's what we're calling ourselves?"
"Unless you object," Ambrose said, a trace of humor in his voice.
Oliver clapped his hands together. "Circle of Magic. Brilliant! Better than 'Ambrose's Super Secret Club of Ancient Sorcery.'"
Cedric snorted. Even Noah's mouth twitched faintly, though he hid it quickly.
Ambrose's smile deepened. "Then it's decided."
He gestured to the parchment. "This oath is simple. It binds us to secrecy. What is spoken, learned, or practiced within the Circle remains within the Circle, unless all agree to share it. Break the oath, and magic itself will weigh upon you - nothing lethal, but impossible to ignore."
Oliver's eyes widened. "That sounds… intense."
"Not as intense as betrayal," Ambrose said calmly.
Noah leaned forward. "And who wrote that parchment? You?"
Ambrose shook his head. "It writes itself. The oath is older than us. I only awakened it."
Cedric reached for the quill first. "If this is what it takes to keep us safe, I'll do it." He signed his name with steady strokes. The letters glowed faintly as the ink dried.
Oliver snatched the quill next, scribbling his name in an enthusiastic scrawl. "I'm in. Obviously."
The glow flared brighter for a moment, then settled.
Noah hesitated. He stared at the parchment, then at Ambrose. "If I sign this… it means I'm tied to you. To your secrets. And I still don't know why you're sharing them at all."
Ambrose's gaze softened. "Because secrets rot when hoarded. Knowledge grows when shared. But only with those who will treat it rightly."
"And you've decided we're those people?" Noah pressed.
"Yes," Ambrose said simply.
For a long moment, Noah held his eyes. Inwardly, his thoughts spun. Either he's a liar of terrifying skill, or he really believes that. And if he does… maybe I want to believe too. At last, with a sharp exhale, he took the quill and wrote his name. The glow spread across the parchment, sealing it.
The oath was complete.
The room seemed to shift. The lanterns flared brighter, the air thickened with energy. For a heartbeat, all four boys felt it: the certainty that something greater had taken note. The Circle was real now.
Oliver whistled low. "That… felt wild."
Cedric flexed his fingers. "Like the air itself… approved."
Ambrose rolled up the parchment carefully. "Now it begins."
He laid out a second scroll, this one covered in diagrams of runes. "Tonight, I will not show you more wonders. Tonight, you will work. Each of you will copy these runes by hand. Learn their shapes, their rhythm. They are not mere drawings. Each curve is a breath of magic. Feel it as you write."
Groans rose from Oliver, though he still grinned. Cedric nodded, determined. Noah sighed but picked up his quill.
For the next hour, the only sound was the scratch of ink. Ambrose moved quietly among them, correcting Cedric's slightly crooked line, guiding Oliver's hand when he grew careless, and exchanging sharp, thoughtful looks with Noah, who wrote with slow precision.
When at last they finished, Ambrose gathered the sheets. "These runes are the foundation of what comes next. Without them, the language of older magic will remain closed. But with them… the door begins to open."
As they left the chamber that night, the castle seemed different. Cedric walked taller, a quiet pride burning in him. Oliver hummed under his breath, already dreaming of conjuring fountains or dragons of water. Noah lingered behind, his thoughts heavy but alive. An oath. A circle. Runes older than Hogwarts. If Ambrose is lying, he's playing a game none of us can match. If he isn't… then maybe we're part of something history itself has been waiting for.
And Ambrose, walking ahead with Axel upon his shoulder, allowed himself the smallest smile. Step by step.