After detention, Alex decided to wander the halls of Hogwarts.
His wand was tucked into his sleeve. The castle at night felt different—alive in a way daytime never revealed. Torches flickered as if whispering secrets. Staircases creaked, thinking about where they wanted to go rather than where they were supposed to.
Perfect, he thought.
If Hogwarts was going to be his home for the next several years, then he needed to know it. Not just classrooms and corridors—but shortcuts, blind spots, escape routes.
He moved carefully, counting steps, noting statues.
Three suits of armor before the first turn.
A portrait of a snoring wizard near the west staircase.
One hallway that sloped just enough to make running faster downhill.
Then—
Yellow eyes.
Mrs. Norris.
She froze the moment she saw him.
Alexander reacted instantly.
"Silencio."
The spell hit cleanly.
Mrs. Norris opened her mouth.
Nothing.
She tried again. Still nothing.
Her tail puffed up in outrage as Alexander ran.
He turned corners sharply, ducked behind a tapestry, slid between two moving staircases, and vanished into a side corridor just as the silence spell wore off.
A split second later—
"MEOWWW—"
"Mrs. Norris?" Filch's voice echoed down the hall. "What is it, my sweet?"
Alexander pressed himself into a shadowed alcove, holding his breath.
Filch arrived, scooping up the agitated cat, muttering furiously. "Someone was here. I know it. I know it."
They searched.
And searched.
Nothing.
No footprints. No sounds. No student.
By the time Filch finally stomped away, grumbling threats about chains and punishment, Alexander was already two floors above them.
He smiled.
Good. Still got it.
Since sleep clearly wasn't happening, he continued exploring—but slower now. Methodical.
He began building a mental map.
How many portraits are there between the Charms corridor and the Grand Staircase?
Which ones talked too much?
Which statues shifted positions at night?
He timed routes.
From the library to the Astronomy Tower—the fastest path involved a moving stair that only aligned every seven minutes.
From the Great Hall to the dungeons—two ways, but only one avoided portraits that asked questions.
He memorized it all.
When stuff hits the fan, he thought, I'm not getting caught wandering like an idiot.
By the time he finally returned to his dormitory, the sky outside the windows was beginning to lighten.
Alexander lay down, mind buzzing—not tired, but satisfied.
Hogwarts was a maze.
And he had just taken the first step toward mastering it.