Chapter 5: The Nevermore Ruins
The night was a vast, cold blanket, the Forbidden Forest looming like a storybook with a grim ending. Its trees whispered warnings on the wind, their branches creaking like old bones, the air sharp with pine and damp earth. Leo pulled his night cloak tighter, its fabric rustling, the coarse wool chafing his neck. He led the group—Wednesday, Enid, Agnes, Lila—toward the tree line, their breaths misting in the moonlight. Pixel scurried ahead, his tiny body a shadow, his claws scratching the frosted ground. You're braver than me, little dude. A gnarled root, slick with dew, snagged Leo's boot, and he steadied himself, the chill biting his fingers. This is real. No respawns here.
Enid's voice broke the silence, a mix of awe and fear.
"You sure about this?"
Leo gave a confident nod, masking his own nerves.
"Pixel knows the way. The trees are just being dramatic."
Agnes stumbled over a root, her wand slipping from her fingers, clattering on a stone. Leo's reflexes, honed from video games and Benedict's wiry frame, kicked in. He caught her arm, steadying her, the fabric of her sleeve damp and cold.
"Graceful as ever, DeMille."
He quipped, and she laughed, a playful illusion of a curtsy shimmering around her, its edges sparkling like fireflies. She's got style, I'll give her that. Enid grinned, her pink scarf fluttering, a loose thread catching on a twig.
"Hey."
Her voice teased, her eyes glinting.
"Are you gonna put a 'Hashtag Outcast Pride' sign on the ruins' entrance? That's so… modern of you."
Hermione, who'd joined them, her robes slightly too big, chimed in, her face determined.
"Actually, that's a brilliant idea! We can adapt it for the rally. A symbol of unity."
The group moved forward, leaves crunching underfoot, a nervous rhythm. The air grew colder, fear palpable, the forest's shadows deepening. A chipped acorn, half-buried in the dirt, rolled under Leo's boot, a small jolt grounding him. Hufflepuffs they'd passed had whispered, "Dangerous place," their eyes wide, their voices lingering like ghosts. They're not wrong. Leo's heart thudded, the weight of their mission heavy as the night.
Pixel returned, a scorched hydra scale in his mouth, its edges sharp and glinting. He dropped it into Leo's palm, the metal cold and heavy.
"Accident residue."
Wednesday noted, her eyes narrowing, her ring glinting faintly.
"The curse… it's still here."
The air thickened, a low hum of residual magic vibrating, the scent of charred stone sharp. They'd reached Nevermore's ruins, its broken towers clawing at the stars, their stones cracked and moss-covered. This place is a graveyard. Leo's breath hitched, the scale's weight a reminder of the Entity's vision.
The chamber's entrance was hidden behind ropy vines, their texture slimy, like wet rope. A riddle was carved into the stone, barely legible, its letters worn: "I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I live in two worlds but belong to neither." Leo stared, a nagging familiarity tugging at him. I know this… The Basilisk. The Chamber of Secrets. It's all connected. His mind raced, memories fuzzy. The curse. The Beast Echo. It's about me. A chipped vine, dangling loose, brushed his arm, its dampness cold.
Wednesday stepped forward, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
"An echo."
Her voice was flat, a hint of excitement buried deep.
"It's obviously an echo."
The stone glowed, its words shifting into a mix of Hogwarts and Nevermore symbols, their edges pulsing. The door groaned, a grinding noise scraping Leo's nerves, and slid open, revealing a black maw. A stale breeze carried the scent of damp stone and decay.
"Dissect?"
Leo said, a nervous laugh escaping, his voice echoing faintly.
"Your specialty?"
"My specialty."
Wednesday confirmed, her smirk sharp. Leo stepped forward, his foot catching on a loose stone, the jolt sending a shiver up his spine. Enid caught his hand, her laugh warm, her grip solid.
"Smooth, Benedict."
She teased, her hand warm in his. He squeezed back, his heart steadying. The darkness swallowed them, the door closing with a heavy thud, the sound reverberating like a final note. The air was thick, silence absolute, Leo's heartbeat a frantic drum against his ribs. Why is it so fuzzy? The Basilisk, the Chamber, a sword—it's there, but smeared like mud on glass. A chipped pebble underfoot crunched, grounding him in the oppressive dark.
[ADAPT, KID—ECHOES LIE.]
The chamber was damp, a glowing orb of rune-lit magic on a pedestal at its center, its light casting jagged shadows. A stone tablet stood beside it, cold to the touch, its surface etched with ancient script—a tombstone and a warning. It told of the Beast Echo curse, born from a botched ritual, petrifying Outcasts in Nevermore's fall. Not a Ministry decree. A cover-up. The hydra hadn't just attacked—it unleashed a curse. Leo's fingers hovered over the tablet, the stone's chill seeping into his skin. He focused his beast-speaking, a low rumble vibrating the walls.
"Curse lives."
He whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Ministry created this?!"
Hermione's face was a mask of horror, her voice sharp.
"They used this curse… to justify shutting down Nevermore? It was their fault all along?"
[BAD NEWS: THAT CURSE IS 90% 'TURN YOU TO STONE' AND 10% 'GIVE YOU NIGHTMARES.' GOOD NEWS: YOU'RE ALREADY A NIGHTMARE.]
"Nightmare status: achieved."
Leo quipped, a tense laugh escaping, the tablet's glow reflecting in his eyes.
"Stone garden party?"
He muttered, trying to lighten the mood, his voice cracking slightly. Enid giggled, her voice a soft beacon in the silence.
"Party foul."
Her laugh eased the weight, her scarf brushing his arm. Hermione's eyes burned with righteous fury.
"We have to expose them. We have to tell the world. Together."
"Together."
Leo agreed, his resolve hardening. The tablet was no longer a warning but a weapon, a key to ending the curse. [WELL, THIS JUST GOT DARKER. LITERALLY. BRING A FLASHLIGHT NEXT TIME.] The resolution hung heavy, a victory and a burden. We know the truth. Now we survive it. A chipped rune on the pedestal, its edges worn, seemed to pulse with their purpose, urging them toward the fight ahead.