And so, the first weeks at Hogwarts went by.
Night came and went, giving way to a new morning—a morning that would set in motion events that, in the not-so-distant future, would shake the wizarding world. It would all end in war, driven by two sides where good and evil blurred together, and only power would remain.
But before reaching that point, a path of mysteries and challenges still had to be walked. And every path has a beginning. For Noah, that beginning came on this quiet morning.
When the sun began to rise over the horizon, Noah was already awake. He had gone through his exercises and fed the wand more actively.
Feeding the wand was something he did quietly every morning. Not that it really needed it—the wand absorbed his magic passively just by being at his side.
Though he couldn't be sure, Noah imagined there was still a long way to go before the wand was satisfied… if it ever would be. So, he didn't give it too much thought. When free, he much preferred reading a book on runes or getting lost inside his trunk, experimenting and studying.
But there was one morning activity that he enjoyed most.
Exploring the castle.
He knew that the silence of night and the calm of early morning were the best times to wander. Noah never followed a fixed route during his explorations. He let himself be guided by the long corridors, slipped through random doors, and sometimes simply allowed the staircases to take him wherever they pleased.
That morning, the staircases brought him to the fourth floor, sparking his curiosity.
"I've never been here before," he muttered, glancing around.
The fourth-floor corridor was different from the others. Perhaps because it lacked a common room or because most of its classrooms weren't in use, it felt quieter—emptier.
But in that silence, there was beauty. Magical portraits and enchanted tapestries lined the corridor. Noah stopped to study them with interest, even waving at some of the wizards painted there, who either slept or pretended to.
He strolled leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world, when one particular tapestry caught his eye. His steps faltered, his gaze fixed, and for just a moment, something shone from within the fabric.
It happened too quickly to grasp, but enough to capture his full attention.
Anything that could activate his ability without his consent was worth investigating.
"What was that?" Noah murmured, quickening his steps toward the tapestry.
Up close, it looked… normal. Almost too normal.
"Suspiciously normal," he muttered.
His curiosity flared. Among all the odd tapestries he'd seen—like trolls learning ballet or centaurs stargazing—this one stood out precisely because it didn't stand out.
The woven image depicted nothing more than a simple round table with six empty chairs. Yet Noah was sure there was more to it.
His eyes glowed, revealing the hidden truth.
The ordinary room melted away, reshaping itself into a vast and opulent throne room, worthy of the greatest king. Yet instead of a throne, at its center stood the same round table, now radiating an almost legendary presence.
The chairs were no longer empty. Wizards and witches of imposing aura sat there, each exuding power and mystery, as if captured at the height of their grandeur.
Almost without realizing it, Noah reached out and touched the tapestry. A ripple spread under his fingers, like a stone dropped in calm water. His magic resonated with it. His right eye flared bright blue, locking onto the image as though unable to look away.
The scene shifted again. The table and figures vanished.
Now the tapestry revealed the Forbidden Forest. The image blurred, then cleared—showing a stone engraved with golden inscriptions.
A heartbeat later, everything was gone. The tapestry returned to its dull, ordinary weave.
Noah stumbled back, clutching his eye as pain lanced through it. Sweat soaked his back. He could feel that part of his magic had been drained.
"What… was that?" he muttered, shaken.
He tried again, forcing his eye to glow once more. But this time, nothing. No hidden image, no throne room, no forest—just a plain tapestry.
Too logical to dismiss it as an illusion, Noah reasoned that the enchantment had run out.
"Programmed to show only once?" he thought.
It was the most likely answer.
Still unsettled, he walked to the end of the corridor where a large window overlooked the Forbidden Forest.
The memory replayed in his mind: the ripple of magic, the golden inscriptions carved into stone. Whoever had woven that spell wanted him to understand—wanted him to seek the stone inside the forest.
But what was it all about? Who were those mysterious figures at the round table? What secret did the stone hold?
Questions, questions, and more questions. And not a single answer.
But that didn't frustrate Noah. If anything, it excited him.
"Looks like I just stumbled into an adventure," he chuckled. Snapping his fingers, he conjured a flame that floated before him. The fire shifted and reshaped itself, recreating the stone he had seen.
The golden inscriptions gleamed faintly in firelight.
"What secrets are you hiding?" he whispered, trying to decipher the symbols.
They resembled runes, though not like any he had studied before.
Though Noah had talent for inscriptions, those belonged to another world. Here, in this one, he had only just begun.
With a sigh, he clenched his hand, extinguishing the fire. He had no idea what was carved on that stone or where exactly in the forest it lay.
But it didn't matter. He would search, even if it meant combing through every tree and shadow. The thirst for mystery wouldn't let him walk away. And besides… he needed to know more about the figures at the table.
Even captured in thread and paint, they radiated strength. Not like the eyes he had seen when arriving in this world—but still, something extraordinary.
Were they powerful wizards? Or was it simply the hand of an artist with genius and ambition?
Since receiving his Hogwarts letter, Noah had allowed himself to slow down. To enjoy the present. To laugh with friends. To truly smile.
And he did enjoy it—this life. But that didn't mean he had abandoned his goals.
He still sought power. He still craved the unknown. He still yearned to walk forward unimpeded.
Magic belonged to those who dared to ask the hardest questions about the simplest things. To those unafraid of the unknown—but who chased after it.
And now that he was in a world where those ideals could thrive, why not become the greatest seeker of all? Why not chase answers into the infinite unknown while living a life he loved?
"My search for answers will never end… because there will always be questions to ask."
But if he wanted to step into the forest—to find that golden-marked stone—he needed to be prepared. Voldemort wasn't the only danger in there. Centaurs who hated intruders. Spiders. And countless other horrors that called the forest home.
If Noah wanted to venture there, he had to be strong enough to fight. Or fast enough to run. Both, ideally.
With that in mind, he knew what he needed to do: train.
He couldn't risk breaking more things inside his trunk—its expansion charms were already fragile. Precision and control training was fine there. But for raw force and destructive magic? He needed somewhere else.
Somewhere secret.
He stopped at the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, a thought flashing in his mind.
"The Room of Requirement…" he whispered.
The perfect place.
That day, Noah was quieter than usual. He made fewer jokes, barely cracked open his books. His mind remained elsewhere, circling back to the stone, the tapestry, the forest.
And the question that mattered most: How do I go in… and come out alive?
When night fell, he didn't wander aimlessly. He didn't let the staircases guide him. He had a goal, and he went straight for it: the seventh floor.
The castle was silent, as always. Avoiding ghosts, Noah reached the tapestry of trolls dancing ballet and chuckled.
"What a scene," he whispered.
Then, serious again, he paced before the wall three times, focusing. A place to train offensive spells.
On his third pass, a door appeared where only stone had been.
"Nice," he muttered, touching the handle. His right eye was glowing already, but it showed nothing unusual. Even so, the moment he opened the door, he knew—the magic here was powerful.
"Who created this room… just how strong were they?"
To call it "enchanted" was an understatement. Layers upon layers of spells wove into its very foundation. Noah recognized only one—an expansion charm, similar to the one in his trunk. The rest… he couldn't even guess at.
The room had heard his wish. It hadn't just listened—it had understood.
Targets stood waiting: dummies of steel, wood, and other materials, in all shapes and sizes.
A perfect training ground.
"A living room…" Noah murmured.
Or perhaps an object with life.
His fingers brushed the silver pendant around his neck.
"Geniuses and their ambitions…"