The next day, Noah woke up later than usual. His body ached, and his head throbbed. If he'd thought a quiet night of sleep would be enough, it hadn't been.
But it was nothing he couldn't handle. What were fatigue and a headache to someone like him—someone burning with motivation to keep improving?
During breakfast, he didn't hear a single whisper or rumor about what had happened, which meant the news hadn't spread. After all, in Hogwarts, if even one student discovered something, it became gossip for an entire week.
The whole day passed quietly. Only during dinner did he realize the professors knew something—which was to be expected.
That night, Dumbledore reminded everyone that the Forbidden Forest was now more forbidden than ever, and that any student caught trying to enter would be expelled immediately.
If Noah hadn't already unlocked his inheritance and obtained the portal card, he might've found it difficult to explore the forest now. But that was no longer necessary.
Another thing he noticed that week was Professor Quirrell's absence. The man had been "temporarily dismissed due to personal matters," or so Snape said grudgingly as he walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Once inside, Snape waved his wand, slamming everyone's books shut.
"Today, we'll test your actual defense skills. Though I highly doubt any of you would survive a real threat." His smirk was sharp. "Of course, I can't expect much, considering some of you can't even bother to show up on time."
Harry burst into the room, breathless and sweaty—he'd clearly been running.
"Don't be like Mr. Potter," Snape sneered. "Arrogant enough to think lessons don't matter."
"Two scrolls. As punishment."
Harry stopped, opened his mouth to argue, then sighed instead.
Snape looked mildly disappointed. He'd clearly wanted Potter to talk back so he could assign more punishment. But since Harry didn't, Snape had no choice but to continue the lesson.
Noah barely paid attention. Half of his mind was still replaying the inheritance—the things he'd seen, his duel with Voldemort, the meaning behind it all.
He went over it again and again, thinking of what he could've done differently.
The class dragged on, dull and tense, since Snape seemed to be in a fouler mood than usual and spent most of it trying to irritate Harry and Ron. Even more than usual, he looked... unsettled.
When Snape noticed Noah staring off, he asked him a few questions. But after Noah answered them all instantly and with precision, the professor gave up and left him alone.
Noah's thoughts were far away. The inheritance occupied his mind completely. Classes seemed almost meaningless now.
Then suddenly, he felt something. A faint whisper—hot, right by his ear.
A shiver ran down his spine as realization struck.
A mental attack.
Who? His thoughts spun. He quickly shifted part of his consciousness inward, into his mental fortress.
His defenses were intact. Nothing seemed off.
Did I imagine it?
He shook his head.
He didn't imagine things—especially not when it came to matters of the mind. It was one of his greatest strengths. Yet he couldn't see or sense where the attack was coming from.
His mental projection took form—an image of himself within his own mind.
My mind is my kingdom.
His right eye glowed a brilliant sky blue.
In an instant, his entire consciousness came alive with awareness.
A second stretched into a lifetime.
And then he saw it.
A shadow—tiny but deliberate. Two pairs of eyes drifting through his defenses, sneaking between layers, peering into his memories.
Noah didn't even flinch.
As a scholar of mental magic, he could recognize true mastery when he saw it.
The intruder was using a technique that infiltrated one layer at a time, methodically slipping through the unnoticed corners of his mind—places most people never checked.
And those corners?
They were built from everything one saw each day. Every image, every detail. Friends talking, homework, books...
Noah froze, realizing how ingenious it was.
If he was right, this method of intrusion was terrifyingly advanced.
The work of a true mental arts master.
Voldemort? he wondered at first—but dismissed it.
No, the snake-faced man couldn't have pulled this off, not in his current half-existence.
Then his eyes shifted toward Snape—but that didn't fit either.
The caretaker? Ridiculous.
Then a name rose in his mind.
Dumbledore.
Noah's expression darkened with anger.
Few people could provoke such emotion in him. It took a lot.
When?
He replayed every encounter with the old wizard—from the ball to every passing conversation.
And then he remembered that first night, when he'd tried to use his right eye on the headmaster during the welcome feast...
That would've been the perfect time. The surprise might've lowered his guard...
No. That's not it.
Looking at the shadow still crawling within his mind, Noah stopped trying to pinpoint when it had entered.
That was the beauty of this type of spell—its subtlety. Inserting a harmless-seeming thought, altering it just enough to create a hidden observer within the target's mind.
The intruder hadn't reached his deep memories yet—thankfully.
And from what Noah could sense, it wasn't transmitting information in real time.
It was meant to collect and then return.
Noah exhaled slowly. His first impulse was to march straight to Dumbledore and—
But no. He forced calm into his mind.
He built a fortified space deep inside his consciousness, opening a single path.
Without thought of resistance, the shadow drifted right into the mental prison he'd created.
He would dissect the spell later—study it, understand it.
It was far too good not to learn.
A Trojan horse... useful.
Slow, yes, but incredibly powerful. In a year or two, it could see an entire mind.
And if he could modify it to alter memories...
A target could have their entire life rewritten without ever knowing.
How ironic that Dumbledore's own magic might one day become Noah's weapon.
. . .
The following weeks passed quietly.
After discovering the truth behind the runed stone and the tapestry's mystery, Noah's restlessness faded.
Of course, he couldn't wait to return home—to finally revisit the inheritance.
How could he not be excited when a place full of secrets and opportunities waited for him?
Still, he thought long and hard before making his decision.
"I'll wait until the school year ends," he said to himself.
It was the most logical choice.
Once he returned home for the holidays, he'd challenge one of the inheritance's rooms. That would give him a sense of its trials.
And if all went well, next year he could even visit it while at Hogwarts—during the nights.
Time, as always, didn't wait for anyone. Days turned to weeks, then months.
Noah lived the life of a typical gifted student.
In his free hours, he focused on rune studies, mind magic—and, of course, the mysterious card he'd received from the inheritance.
Using his right eye, he could feel something faintly familiar within it.
Weeks later, he finally understood.
"Spatial magic."
That's what it was.
The same sensation he felt when traveling by teleportation with his family—or when a house-elf appeared before him.
. . .
And so, final exams arrived.
Noah didn't particularly care, but the atmosphere across the school was heavy with study and revision.
Ravenclaw was no exception.
Terry and Anthony studied every spare minute—from class to meals to late-night reading.
Noah joined them only to pass the time.
"You know," Terry sighed, "once exams are over, I'm spending a whole week doing nothing but playing games."
"Chess?" Noah asked, smiling.
"Maybe." Terry groaned, setting his notes aside. "Don't you think we have too few games? I mean, sure, there's Quidditch, but most magical games need huge spaces."
Noah raised a brow. "Since when are you such a game lover?"
Michael cut in, grinning. "Probably since he only ever loses when playing chess with you."
"Hey, that's not true!" Terry protested.
Just then, Anthony burst into the Ravenclaw common room, panting.
"Let me guess," Michael said. "We're having sausages and eggs for breakfast?"
But Anthony ignored him, his face pale and urgent.
"You won't believe what happened last night—while we were asleep..."
. . .
When Noah heard that Harry was in the infirmary, he hesitated for a long moment.
"If there were a class on how to be a terrible, two-faced, hypocritical friend... I'd be top of the class." He smirked. "No—I'd be the professor."
He chuckled and shook his head.
As he reached the infirmary, the door opened.
Standing there was Dumbledore.
Noah's eyes gleamed; the old man's did the same.
Both seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Good morning, Mr. Gray," Dumbledore greeted, stroking his beard.
"Good morning," Noah replied pleasantly. "Though I must say, it would've been a much better one if I hadn't missed last night's adventure."
He smiled as he spoke, though his gaze was sharp.
"Adventure?" Dumbledore blinked mildly.
"Yes, I heard Hogwarts had quite an eventful night," Noah said with mock regret. "A shame exams wore me out—I had to sleep early."
Dumbledore peered over his glasses, seeing the faint smirk on the boy's face.
"You do have a way of surprising me, Mr. Gray," he said at last. "But perhaps this was one adventure worth missing. It was... dangerous."
Noah laughed. "Oh, don't joke, sir. If Weasley made it back with just a few scratches, it couldn't have been that dangerous."
He paused, eyes glinting. "Then again, facing Voldemort—who, as I hear, was living in Professor Quirrell's head—must've been something. Can't even imagine."
Dumbledore was silent for a beat.
"It seems Professor McGonagall was right," he said finally.
Noah's expression brightened. "Professor Minnie talks about me?"
Dumbledore chuckled at the nickname.
"Yes. She says your sense of humor is... questionable."
Noah grinned. "Ah, she speaks so kindly of me. I really should thank her for saying such nice things."
"She also says your sarcasm can be irritating," Dumbledore added. "But that it adds to your mysterious charm."
"Ahh," Noah said thoughtfully. "Yes, I'll have to send her a gift."
Dumbledore studied him quietly before asking,
"How do you know?"
His tone was calm, but Noah caught the faint pressure beneath it—an edge most wouldn't sense.
But Noah wasn't most people.
Whether it was his mastery of mental magic or his strange left eye that seemed drawn to negative emotions, he could feel things others couldn't.
Noah smiled pleasantly.
"Oh, since the beginning," he said. "I even considered asking for a few flying lessons—heard Voldemort's quite the expert."
He tilted his head. "Of course, I decided against it. Harry's my friend, after all. I'd feel awful taking lessons from his arch-nemesis."
Dumbledore's gaze shifted for the first time.
Noah found it entertaining.
"Well, we should chat again another time," he said cheerfully. "For now, if you'll excuse me, I have friends to visit."
Dumbledore stroked his beard once, twice, then smiled and stepped aside.
"Congratulations on your exam results," he said—though the results hadn't even been posted yet.
Noah said nothing.
But as Dumbledore turned to leave, Noah's voice stopped him.
"It's a strange time, Headmaster... Choose your enemies wisely."
Dumbledore looked back, but Noah was already inside the infirmary.
The old man sighed softly.
No one knew what he was thinking.