"Harry, are you alright?!"
A deep voice thundered across the field as the ground trembled with each heavy step. Hagrid was running toward him, his face flushed with effort and unmistakable worry in his eyes.
"I'm fine, Hagrid. Thanks," Harry replied with total calm, brushing dust off his clothes as if nothing had happened.
Hagrid frowned as he looked at the metallic remains of the bludgers still floating in the air like suspended ashes.
"By Merlin... what in the world happened to those bludgers? I've never seen anything like it," he muttered, bending down to examine the fine red dust with a mix of confusion and unease.
"Must've been a malfunction in the control system," Harry said neutrally. But his friends, who had known him for years, could read the truth behind his composed tone. He said nothing… but the fury simmering inside him was almost palpable—like a spell waiting to erupt.
"I should go clean up," he added quietly, turning without another word and walking off the pitch.
The others exchanged a quick look and followed him in silence.
As they walked, students from all houses watched him with growing interest. Some looked impressed, others uneasy. No one had forgotten how he had stopped the bludgers—nor the flash of scarlet in his eyes just before they exploded.
Back inside the castle, with the tension slightly eased, the group paused near a corridor before heading toward the common room. It was then that they finally spoke.
"Hey… you're not planning anything crazy, are you?" Daphne asked lightly, though her smile suggested that if he was, she had no intention of stopping him.
"What are you talking about? Obviously, it was just an accident," Harry said with absolute composure.
"And you really expect us to believe that?" Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow and giving him the exact look she used every time she wasn't buying a single word.
"Let's go to the common room," Harry said, ignoring the comment. "I've got some upgrades I want to test on the golems."
The three looked at one another, then simply shrugged in unison… and followed him.
,,,
That night.
The corridors of Hogwarts were wrapped in an eerie stillness. The magical torches flickered with a faint light, casting long, wavering shadows along the stone walls. It was curfew hour, and the professors were meant to patrol in pairs… or so the rule said.
Professor Quirrell walked briskly, his nervous eyes darting from one shadow to the next. Every now and then, he turned around sharply, as if expecting something to be creeping up behind him. He adjusted his turban clumsily, his fingers trembling slightly.
Then he stopped.
The silence was complete.
Too complete.
No footsteps. No distant cackles from Peeves. Not even the usual whispering from the portraits. For a magical school like Hogwarts—so alive, so chaotic—this quiet was deeply unnatural.
"H-Hello…?" he muttered, his voice echoing faintly against the stone.
He glanced around, feeling a tightness in his chest.
"Peeves? If this is a joke, it's not funny…" he called out, forcing a smile that disappeared almost immediately.
Still, no answer.
Then he heard it.
A whisper. A scrape. Right behind him.
He spun around, wand raised—nothing.
Only darkness.
"Who's there?" he demanded, voice shaking, taking a cautious step back.
And in that moment, as he turned a corner, a blur of red launched itself at him with terrifying speed.
"AAAAAH!" Quirrell screamed as sharp teeth sank into his leg, knocking him to the floor.
He tried to raise his wand, but a small, scaly creature leapt onto his arm, biting down with brutal force. His wand snapped with a dry crack between the creature's jaws, and his scream grew shriller.
"AAAAAAH! HELP!"
The creature clawed at his face, wild and merciless. In the struggle, Quirrell's turban slipped off with a dull thud.
For a fleeting moment… something dark, twisted, and unnatural was revealed.
But Red—Harry's small red dragon—didn't pause to look.
His throat ignited with a fiery glow, and without hesitation, he spat a burst of flames straight at Quirrell's head.
A double scream echoed through the halls—one human, high and pained… the other guttural, monstrous… and clearly not coming from the same voice.
Red hesitated, momentarily confused by the second scream. But his instincts took over again. He lunged forward, biting Quirrell's other hand and tearing through muscle and flesh before spinning on his feet and vanishing into the shadows at full speed.
Quirrell lay there, bloodied, his face partially burned, both hands mangled, and his entire body trembling in agony. Yet somehow, with a desperate effort, he reached for his fallen turban. Coughing, spitting blood, he pulled it back over his head with his one usable arm, his hand shaking violently.
Footsteps were approaching… somewhere in the distance.
And with the last ounce of strength left in him, Quirrell crawled away into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of blood and smoke.
—-
Meanwhile…
In the Ravenclaw common room, Harry was sitting by the fire with a cold, emotionless expression, staring at a parchment spread out in front of him.
On the paper was a partially completed map of Hogwarts. It was rough, but some areas were already marked with precision. Names floated and moved slowly through the corridors, each one tracking the exact location of a person.
Harry's gaze was fixed on one name in particular.
Quirinus Quirrell.
The name appeared distorted, almost as if shrouded in a dark mist. Beside it, a small red dot was quickly moving away.
Red.
Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Taboo…" he murmured before closing the map. At the bottom, the magically written words faded one by one:
"Mischief managed."
This map wasn't the original, but a replica he and his friends had been building from scratch, based on what his godfather Sirius and Professor Lupin had taught them. It didn't have all the secret passages or hidden rooms yet, but it was enough to track people… and to plan.
"What are you doing, Harry?" Draco asked as he came down the stairs, still sounding half-asleep.
"Testing the map," Harry replied casually.
"There are still lots of places missing. It'd be great if we found the one your dad and the others made. We could fill in the gaps faster," Draco said as he yawned.
"It's late. You should get some sleep," Harry answered without looking up.
Draco nodded and headed back upstairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Harry approached the common room door, cracked it open quietly… and Red darted inside.
His paws were stained dark, soot clung to his scales, and his eyes shone with pride.
"Well done," Harry said in a low voice, casting a cleaning charm on the small dragon. "I warned him. He didn't want to listen," he added calmly.
Red curled up by the fire like nothing had happened.
Harry watched him for a moment longer… then turned and went to bed.
—
The next morning…
While they were eating breakfast in the Great Hall, Terry rushed over to their table, his face alight with excitement.
"Hey, did you guys hear what happened?" he asked in a lower voice, clearly enjoying the attention. "Apparently, Professor Quirrell was attacked last night. They found him in a corridor… injured and covered in blood."
"Is he alive?" asked Daphne, setting her cup down with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, he's alive. But his hands were badly injured. Word is the healing process is taking longer than usual, and he might not be able to use them for months," Terry explained with a dramatic tone.
"So are we getting a new professor?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Doesn't look like it. Quirrell insists on continuing. He only teaches theory anyway. Pretty admirable if you think about it… though kind of odd," Terry added, grabbing a piece of toast.
"Do they know what attacked him?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"No clue. Some say it might've been a magical creature that slipped in from the Forbidden Forest. Like the troll incident. Honestly, Hogwarts should really improve its security," Terry said indignantly. "I'm going to see if I can dig up more info. I'll let you know if I hear anything."
With that, he disappeared into the sea of students like a little hound chasing a rumor.
Meanwhile, Draco kept eating in silence. He looked up briefly and shot Harry a glance—not accusatory, not angry. Just a knowing look that said, "I know what you did… and I'm not going to say a word." Then he went back to his breakfast like nothing had happened.
Harry continued eating quietly too, as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary.
"Christmas is just around the corner," Daphne said, switching topics with a cheerful tone. "Are you all ready to go home?"
"Of course," Hermione replied with a smile.
"Yeah," Harry added, a calm expression on his face.
"Me too," Draco said. "I might drop by for a visit, so leave the Floo Network open just in case," he joked lightly.
"Why don't you and your mum come spend the holidays with us?" Daphne offered, tilting her head.
"I'd love to, but… some Malfoy relatives are coming over. I don't like them one bit, and they'll probably try to bother my mum. So I'd rather be there for her," Draco replied seriously.
"Ugh… they must be a pain in the butt," Daphne said bluntly.
"You said it," Draco muttered with resignation. "But I'm used to it."