The castle felt different now. The stones still whispered with drafts, portraits still muttered as students hurried past, but beneath all that, something else lingered. Like the air was heavier. Like the lake outside had crept into the walls, unseen but patient, waiting.
Percy couldn't shake it. Every night, when the castle had gone still, he heard it—the faint rush of water, waves breaking against some distant shore. But when he opened his eyes, there was nothing. Just silence.
He didn't tell the others. Not yet.
Classes went on as usual, or as usual as they ever could. Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron for transfiguring his teacup into a lump of coal. Snape sneered through double Potions, his cloak snapping behind him like it had a life of its own. Hagrid beamed as he introduced the class to a new creature, a massive crab with glittering shells that nearly took Neville's arm off.
The routine should have been comforting. But it wasn't.
Harry was distracted, pale shadows under his eyes. More than once Percy caught him staring out the window toward the lake, like he was waiting for it to move. Hermione had gone quieter too, though her quill never stopped moving. Pages filled with curling, incomprehensible writing spilled out of her satchel, and her hands trembled sometimes when she turned a page. Ron was the only one who seemed unchanged, though even he had begun glancing at Percy when he thought Percy wasn't looking.
It all came to a head one evening at dinner. The Great Hall was buzzing, owls swooping down with packages, laughter echoing off the high rafters. Percy reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice and the liquid inside shifted. Not just a ripple. It swirled, spiraled, a whirlpool in miniature.
His stomach lurched. He set the goblet down, but the water didn't stop. It climbed upward in a slender column, twisting like a snake.
"Percy," Hermione whispered, eyes wide.
He clenched his fists, tried to force it down, but the harder he resisted, the more the water resisted too. It sloshed over the rim, arcing between goblets along the table, pulling them into the same impossible whirl.
"Oi—what's going on?" Ron yelped, ducking as a stream of pumpkin juice shot past his ear.
Students gasped, some leaping back from the tables. A goblet exploded, shards flying across the hall.
Percy slammed both hands onto the table. "Stop!"
The liquid collapsed, splattering across the wood, harmless once more.
The silence afterward was deafening. Dozens of eyes fixed on him. Percy's heart thundered in his chest, his hands dripping with pumpkin juice that smelled far too much like saltwater.
Professor McGonagall's lips thinned. "Mr. Jackson. With me."
No one said a word as Percy was marched out of the hall, but the whispers began before the doors even closed.
He half expected to be dragged before the whole staff, but McGonagall brought him only as far as an empty classroom. She shut the door, her sharp gaze pinning him in place.
"Explain," she demanded.
"I didn't mean to," Percy said quickly. "It just happened. I couldn't control it."
McGonagall studied him for a long time, her expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, she sighed. "This castle has seen much. More than most realize. But whatever has attached itself to you, Mr. Jackson, I fear it is not of Hogwarts' making."
Her words chilled him more than anger would have.
"Is there a cure?" Percy asked, quieter now.
She hesitated. "I don't know. But you must tell Professor Dumbledore. And until then, control yourself."
Percy nodded, though the thought of telling Dumbledore made him sick. Control himself? That part was laughable. He couldn't even keep a drink in its cup.
When he returned to the common room, Harry was waiting. His scar looked faintly inflamed, though Percy knew that was impossible now.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Harry asked without preamble.
Percy stiffened. "Saw what?"
Harry leaned closer, voice low. "The shadow. In the storm. In the water. You saw it too."
Percy swallowed hard. The memory of that vast coiling form in the clouds shivered through him. "I thought… I thought I imagined it."
"You didn't," Harry said flatly. His hand clenched on the arm of the chair. "It's the same thing I keep seeing in the lake."
Hermione looked up from her parchment then, her face pale. "It's not your imagination. I've translated more. The Sleeper isn't just bound in the temple, it's bound to the water itself. That's why it leaks into everything. Goblets, storms, even dreams. The closer it comes to waking, the less those boundaries matter."
Ron, sprawled on the couch, groaned. "Brilliant. So we're all going to drown in our beds."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped.
But Percy couldn't laugh it off. He remembered the way the liquid had moved, not wild but purposeful, like something was using him.
That night, Harry dreamed again.
This time, he was underwater. The surface shimmered impossibly far above him, silver with moonlight. He didn't need to breathe. His body floated easily, carried by gentle currents. For a moment it was peaceful.
Then the darkness stirred.
Something moved below. Not fast, not even close, but enormous. The water around him shivered as though in reverence.
Harry's pulse thundered in his ears. He tried to swim upward, but the current seized him, holding him in place. And then the voice came again, low, endless, vibrating through his bones.
"The land forgot. But the sea remembers."
Harry twisted, shouting into the water. "What are you?"
"I am what was before."
The current yanked him downward. The darkness rushed closer, a mass of coils and shadows that never fully took shape, but in its shifting bulk Harry glimpsed a single, glowing eye.
He screamed—
—and woke gasping, the sheets of his four-poster soaked through, salt burning his lips.
The next morning, Hermione was waiting in the common room with a sheaf of parchment and dark circles under her eyes.
"It's accelerating," she said without even greeting them. "The writing keeps coming faster. Last night I woke up to find I'd scribbled three pages in my sleep." She shoved the papers at them. The script curled across the page like seaweed, and for a horrible moment Percy thought he could hear it whisper.
"What does it say?" Harry asked, still pale from his nightmare.
Hermione hesitated. "It doesn't just describe the Sleeper anymore. It… calls to it. Like instructions. Or… an invitation."
"Burn it," Ron said immediately.
"I can't," Hermione whispered. "I tried. The parchment won't catch."
The three of them stared at her, then at the pages. For the first time, Percy wished desperately that the problem was something as simple as Dark Magic. At least that had rules.
Classes blurred after that. Percy went through the motions of Charms, tried to focus on the flick of his wand in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but all the while the water hummed beneath his skin. Every candle flame looked like it might turn liquid at any second. Every glass in the room waited for him to slip.
By the time evening came, he wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and forget the world.
But as he passed the window overlooking the Black Lake, something moved.
A ripple. Too large for the wind, too deliberate for the squid. It curved outward, forming a vast circle, as if something below had brushed the surface.
Harry froze beside him.
Neither spoke. They just stared, hearts pounding, as the ripple spread until it kissed the far shore and vanished.
The lake stilled again. But they both knew the truth.
It wasn't sleeping anymore.
The night air was heavy, the kind of damp that clung to skin and chilled bone. The four of them stood at the edge of the Black Lake, the castle's windows glowing faintly behind them. The water, usually calm and moonlit, heaved with unnatural movement.
Another ripple swelled. Then another.
"What is it this time?" Ron muttered, his voice tight.
Harry didn't answer. His scar didn't burn like it once had, but his whole body trembled with the echo of that dream. He knew what was coming.
The surface of the lake bulged outward. Not like a wave, but like something beneath was pressing to escape. A ring of spray exploded outward as the water broke.
And then it rose.
At first, it was only a column of liquid, twenty feet tall, twisting upward into the night air. But as it took shape, shadows coiled within it, weaving into limbs, a jagged mouth, two enormous pits of darkness where eyes should have been. The water didn't just fall away from the construct, it clung to it, pulsing as if alive.
Hermione's breath hitched. "It's… it's a projection. A fragment of the Sleeper's essence, using the lake as its body."
The thing roared. Not a sound, but a vibration, like the pressure of a storm front slamming into their chests.
Percy staggered back, his ears ringing. "That's not just water," he shouted over the echo. "It's trying to anchor itself here!"
The creature surged forward, its arm sweeping across the shore. Trees snapped like twigs, earth ripped free in a shower of mud. The four of them dove aside, barely avoiding the crushing wave.
"Wands out!" Harry yelled. He raised his own and shouted, "Stupefy!"
A bolt of red light lanced through the night, striking the monster's chest. The water rippled, but absorbed it, the color sinking like ink into the depths. The creature only seemed to swell larger.
"Brilliant," Ron gasped, scrambling to his feet. "You've fed it!"
Percy's instincts screamed at him. He raised his hands, and the lake answered. A wall of water rose, colliding with the construct's limb mid-swing. For a moment, Percy held it. Every muscle in his body taut, power singing through his veins.
Then the thing pushed back.
The force knocked Percy to his knees, pain searing his arms like fire. His vision blurred. He felt the creature inside him, like it recognized him, like it wanted him.
"Percy!" Hermione's voice snapped him back. She was already scribbling in the air with her wand, glowing runes hovering before her. "Hold it for three more seconds!"
"I can't!" he shouted.
"Yes, you can!"
The runes pulsed, brighter, brighter, then lashed outward in a spear of golden light. The spell struck the monster's chest. For the first time, it reeled, water sloughing away in thick sheets.
Harry didn't hesitate. "Expulso!"
The blast hit where Hermione's magic had carved through. The water column shuddered, caving inward.
It howled, the sound shaking the earth.
Ron raised his wand. "Eat this, you overgrown puddle: Bombarda!"
The explosion lit up the lakeshore, hurling chunks of liquid-shadow across the ground. They hissed as they struck earth, writhing like living things before seeping back toward the lake.
But the creature wasn't finished.
Its form reknit itself, dragging water into its shape with terrifying speed. Its arm snapped out, striking the ground where Ron had stood a moment earlier. He went tumbling backward with a cry, his wand spinning into the mud.
"Ron!" Hermione screamed.
Percy surged forward, fury burning away his hesitation. He slammed both hands into the lake.
The water obeyed.
A geyser erupted beneath the creature, launching it skyward in a column of roaring spray. For a heartbeat it hung there, writhing, its limbs flailing.
Percy clenched his fists. The geyser collapsed, dragging the monster down like a whirlpool swallowing a ship.
The surface detonated with a crash of waves, spray drenching them all.
When it cleared, the creature was still there, smaller, but angrier. Its form flickered, struggling to hold.
Harry's chest heaved. "We can't keep this up forever. Hermione, whatever you're doing, finish it!"
Hermione's wand hand shook as she traced more runes, the ancient language blazing across the night air. "I think… I think it wants a name. To bind it back, I have to call it what it was, before it became the Sleeper."
"And what was that?!" Ron coughed, spitting mud.
She bit her lip. "I don't know yet!"
The monster lunged, shadowed jaws snapping. Percy barely threw up a wall of water in time, the impact rattling his teeth. He could feel himself unraveling, his power slipping out of control.
"Then guess!" Harry shouted.
Hermione's eyes flew open. "Aequor!"
The name rang through the night, vibrating the very air.
The creature froze. Its entire form trembled, like the word itself shackled it.
Percy didn't wait. He drove his will into the lake, commanding it to obey. The water surged, folding inward, crushing the construct's body with tidal force.
Harry and Ron hurled their spells into the collapse. Hermione's runes burned brighter, searing across the monster's chest.
The construct screamed as its body tore apart, water exploding back into the lake in torrents. The shadow at its core writhed, clawing at the air, before dissolving into nothingness.
Silence fell.
Only the ragged sound of their breathing remained, and the distant lap of waves against the shore.
Percy fell to his knees, chest heaving. His hands trembled uncontrollably. The lake still whispered in his ears, but quieter now, retreating.
Harry staggered to his side, offering an arm. "You all right?"
Percy shook his head, but forced a grin. "Never better."
Hermione collapsed onto the grass, parchment clutched to her chest. "It worked. I don't know how, but it worked."
Ron limped over, covered in mud, face pale. "Bloody brilliant. Nearly drowned in dirt, but sure, let's call it a win."
They all laughed then, the sound shaky and exhausted, but real.
The lake lay still once more.
But as Percy looked into its depths, he saw it—the faintest glow, far below the surface. A single, vast eye, watching.
And then it blinked.
To be Continued...
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Idk what this guy shld be called, any ideas?