The heavy, velvet curtains of the office were drawn tight, sealing the room in a tomb-like stillness that smelled of old parchment and something metallic—the unmistakable, iron-scent of fresh blood. Deep within the shadows of the room, a figure moved with a graceful, predatory fluidity. It was Miss Amelia. She was no longer the poised, stoic guardian the students of Hogwarts looked up to. In the dim light, she held a crystal chalice to her lips, tilting it back as she drank. The liquid within was a deep, visceral crimson. As she finished, a thin trail of blood escaped the corner of her mouth, and she didn't wipe it away. Instead, she smiled—a slow, terrifying expression that revealed teeth far too sharp for a human.
Amelia set the chalice down and stepped toward a tall, ornate mirror standing in the corner of the room. As she gazed into the glass, she did not see the comforting face of a mentor. She found herself staring at a vampire. Her skin was a translucent, marble white, and her eyes shimmered with an unholy, ancient hunger.
She reached out, tracing the reflection of her high cheekbones. She remembered the choice she had made, the ritual that had severed her from her humanity. She had made herself into a vampire for one reason: to stay young forever and to increase her magical powers beyond the limits of mortal flesh. Age was a cage she had refused to inhabit.
To achieve this state, she had stained her hands with the essence of her own kind. She had hunted and killed many vampires, but one death haunted the periphery of her memories more than the rest: the death of an innocent vampire named Elthira.
The image of the real Elthira flashed in Amelia's mind—a woman pale and trembling, cornered in the darkness. The real Elthira had pleaded for her life, her voice shaking with a desperation that Amelia had found pathetic.
"Please let me go."
The vampire had reached out a hand, begging for mercy.
"I don't want to get killed by you."
But Amelia had felt no flicker of compassion. She had raised her wand, her face a mask of cold ambition. With a flick of her wrist, she had unleashed the ultimate darkness. She used the death curse on Elthira, ending her life in a flash of sickly green light.
Using her mastery of magical black powers, her future-showing mirror, and a complex, forbidden potion she had brewed in secret, Amelia had consumed the blood of the fallen vampire. Through that dark alchemy, she had stolen Elthira's form and her unique powers, wearing them like a stolen cloak.
Before she had died, however, Elthira had spat out a final, ragged breath—a curse that lingered in the air like smoke.
"Your bad wishes would never come true."
The dying vampire's eyes had been filled with a prophetic spite. Elthira had cursed Miss Amelia just before the light left her eyes, and though Amelia had successfully turned herself into a half-vampire to ensure her wishes would manifest, the words still echoed in the back of her mind.
Outside in the corridor, the soft patter of footsteps approached. Miss Pomfrey, the school's matron, was making her rounds. She had stopped by Harry Potter's room and found it empty, but her eyes had caught the shimmer of the Invisibility Cloak left carelessly on the chair. Thinking it was a game or a chance to provide a lighthearted fright, Miss Pomfrey had picked it up.
Miss Pomfrey put the invisible blanket over her head and shoulders, disappearing into the air. She giggled softly to herself, deciding to go to Miss Amelia's room to surprise her with a friendly visit.
She slipped through the door of Amelia's office, which had been left slightly ajar. But as she entered, the smile died on her face. She stood frozen, hidden by the cloak, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was surprised and utterly shocked to see Miss Amelia standing there, drinking blood and staring into a future mirror. The woman looked like a monster—a vampire in the heart of Hogwarts.
Miss Pomfrey felt a scream rising in her throat, a primal sound of terror. She slammed her hands over her mouth, biting back the noise until her teeth ached.
She was terrified. She watched as the woman she had worked alongside for years revealed her true nature. But the horror did not end there.
On a shelf nearby, Amelia had trapped Nearly Headless Nick and several other flying ghosts within enchanted glass bottles. The spirits were frantic, their translucent forms flickering as they hammered against the glass. Their voices were muffled, tinny, and filled with dread.
"Please let us go!" they cried in a ghostly chorus.
Amelia turned toward the bottles, letting out a big, booming laugh that lacked any soul.
"I can't release you or anyone right now."
She leaned in close to the glass, her eyes wide with a manic intensity.
"At present, my wishes are bigger to me and I wanted to make it become true."
She stood tall again, her arms outspread as if embracing the very darkness of the room.
"For my wishes to come true, I can do anything."
Her voice rose, turning into a snarl of long-repressed hatred.
"ALL I WANTED IS HOGWARTS IS GETTING DESTROYED PERMANENTLY AND MY SO-CALLED DUMBLEDORE LEGACY AND HIS FOLLOWERS GETTING RUINED!"
She paced the room, her footsteps heavy and deliberate.
"I always wanted Hogwarts and wanted to become Headmaster for this school."
She paused, looking at a portrait on the wall.
"I am a greater magician, more than my cousin-brother Dumbledore."
She spat the name as if it were poison.
"Whatever I wanted, everything that belonged to Dumbledore..."
She stopped in front of a photo of Albus Dumbledore, her gaze burning with resentment.
"Master Dumbledore."
She touched the frame with a mocking tenderness.
"You stopped me in the past, Dumbledore, but now you can't stop me."
She laughed again, a sound of pure triumph.
"Even your foolish Harry Potter team, who once called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army'..."
She turned away from the photo, her eyes flashing.
"And now they are calling themselves 'Miss Amelia's Army'!"
She sneered, reveling in the irony of their trust.
"Don't worry, I will make them my slaves after Voldemort achieved what he needs."
She clenched her fists, her voice filled with a cold, unwavering resolve.
"I will make all my dreams come true and will destroy all Gryffindors who always come in my path in reaching my goal."
She tilted her head, looking at the portrait again.
"By the way, even you, Master Dumbledore... you are also a Gryffindor, right?"
Miss Amelia threw her head back and unleashed a deafening, wicked laughter.
"HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Underneath the Invisibility Cloak, Miss Pomfrey was shaking so hard she could barely stand. She was completely scared, her mind racing to find a way out of this nightmare. She began to walk backwards, her eyes fixed on the vampire-woman.
"No, it can't be possible!" she whispered to herself, her voice a mere breath of air.
"How can Miss Amelia join hands with Voldemort?"
She knew she had to act.
"I have to reveal this to Harry Potter and the team and to everyone."
But in her state of sheer terror, her foot caught on the edge of a side table. She stumbled, her arm brushing against a heavy ceramic flower jar. It wobbled for a second before crashing to the stone floor with a loud, echoing shatter.
Miss Pomfrey froze, her breath hitching. She was terrified, knowing she was now in a room with a monster who could hear her every heartbeat.
Meanwhile, far away in the rugged terrain leading toward the Ravenclaw Gemstone, the atmosphere was equally tense. Kael Night Shade, emboldened by the recent chaos, reached out and took Rose's hand. He began walking at the front of the group, leading her as if he were her protector.
Behind them, the rest of the team watched in silence. Everyone was shocked to see James behaving so normally. He didn't protest; he didn't shout. They began to suspect that he was hurting deeply inside, seeing Kael try to come so close to Rose, but he kept his emotions locked away behind a mask of stoicism.
The group began to walk in a somber procession, but the environment around them was changing. The air grew heavy and damp, and the sky began to bruise with dark, swirling clouds. A shimmering, translucent line formed on the ground in front of them, marking a boundary they had not yet crossed.
Suddenly, the sky roared—a sound so loud it seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.
BOOMMMM!
A massive thunderstorm broke overhead, the lightning illuminating the jagged landscape in flashes of brilliant, terrifying white. Everyone jumped, huddled together in fear as they held onto each other for support.
Miss Mirael stepped forward, her expression grimmer than ever. She looked at the line on the ground and then up at the roiling clouds.
"The real danger will begin from here."
She turned to face the group, her voice carrying over the wind.
"Seeking and achieving the Ravenclaw Gemstone is not so easy, but it is really, really difficult, and also it is impossible."
She pointed toward the storm-wracked horizon.
"One wrong move can take the lives of us."
She looked at James, then back at the group.
"Even a powerful magician can't enter this ring and face the dangers without having the Hufflepuff Gemstone."
She held up a hand, emphasizing her next words.
"All gemstones are connected to one another, and also each and every other gemstone will play key roles in finding another."
She looked at them all, searching for the unity that was currently fraying at the seams.
"Our unity and intelligence can only save us, and also the Hufflepuff Gemstone and Legend James."
The group, driven by a mix of fear and desperation, was about to step across the line into the ring.
"STOP!" Miss Mirael shouted, her voice cutting through the thunder.
They all froze.
"Can't you see the thunder is storming?" she scolded, her eyes flashing with frustration. "Even I said to you, and everyone should follow me!"
She stepped closer to the line, her face illuminated by a sudden bolt of lightning.
"I am saying once again: one wrong move can cost us everything."
In the confusion and the rain, the figure in Rose's form—Voldemort—felt a surge of impatience. He was tired of Kael's touch and the charade of being a helpless girl. Rose pulled her hand away from Kael's grip and moved toward James.
She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"I am so scared and I don't want to leave you!" she cried, her voice sounding perfectly like the girl James loved.
James was shocked, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides for a moment before he slowly began to reach for her.
But suddenly, the heavens opened. The rain started pouring down in a cold, relentless deluge, drenching everyone to the bone in seconds.
Inside Rose's mind, Voldemort was seething. He hated the physical sensations of the girl's body, and the rain was the final straw.
"I hate rain," he hissed to himself, his thoughts dripping with venom. "I wish this rain would stop immediately."
Forgetful of the warnings, the figure in Rose's form reached into her robes and drew her wand. With a sharp, jagged movement, she cast a spell. A brilliant beam of laser-like magic shot upward, piercing the dark clouds and lashing out at the sky.
Miss Mirael's eyes went wide with horror. She screamed at Rose.
"I said don't use magic here! It is really dangerous!"
She tried to reach for the wand.
"This place is being protected by the Ravenclaw Gemstone itself!"
The sky seemed to respond to the provocation. The clouds swirled faster, and a second, much larger laser of pure energy erupted from the heavens. It was a retaliatory strike, a bolt of raw power aimed directly at the spot where Rose and James stood.
Panicked, the figure in Rose's form didn't think of James. She turned and ran away, leaving him standing directly in the path of the descending energy.
"JAMES!" the others shouted in a chorus of horror.
James looked up, the light of the impending strike blinding him. He was about to be obliterated.
But then, a blur of movement came from the side. Elthira—the vampire who was actually the real Rose in disguise—sprinted toward him. With a desperate cry, she threw herself at James, pushing him out of the way just as the energy crashed into the ground.
The explosion threw them both through the air. Elthira hit the ground hard, her body absorbing the shock and the shrapnel of the impact. She lay there, injured and bleeding, the rain washing over her pale face.
She looked up, her eyes finding James's through the gloom. With a voice that was barely a whisper, she gasped out his name.
"James..."