CHAPTER 15 SHADOWS OF THE PAST

The Library's Hidden Truth

Hermione and Ron huddled in the dim light of the Restricted Section, dust motes swirling around them like agitated fairies. Ron held a lantern while Hermione traced her finger over a crumbling parchment titled Curses of the Ancient Woods.

"Listen to this," Hermione whispered. "The Blight of Tharion—a curse born of a dark wizard's pact with forest spirits, draining life to fuel immortality. It's dated 800 A.D.!"

Ron grimaced. "Tharion… sounds like a cheery bloke. Bet he's related to Snape's great-great-granddad."

Hermione ignored him, flipping pages. "The curse was sealed by a 'guardian of elemental balance.' Maybe Aelara's predecessor? But the ritual to revive it requires… unicorn blood?"

Ron paled. "That's what's killing the creatures. But who'd be mad enough to—?"

A sudden snap echoed in the silence. They froze. Madam Pince's silhouette loomed in the doorway.

"Out. Now," she hissed.

As they scrambled, Hermione tucked the parchment into her robes, her mind racing. Unicorn blood. Immortality. This isn't just a curse—it's a bid to cheat death.

 Hagrid's Secret

Harry and Suhi found Hagrid chopping firewood outside his hut, Fang snoozing at his feet.

"Hagrid, what do you know about the forest's curses?" Harry asked bluntly.

Hagrid's axe paused mid-swing. "Curses? Who's been fillin' yer heads with that?"

Suhi stepped forward, her voice steady. "Creatures are dying. Something's wrong. Please."

Hagrid sighed, lowering the axe. "Years back, a witch tried to harness the forest's magic. Elle Knight, her name was. Brilliant, but… reckless. She vanished, an' Dumbledore sealed her research."

Harry's eyes widened. "Ezzy's mother?"

Hagrid nodded grimly. "Aye. Whatever's happenin' now… it's got her mark all over it."

 Elle Knight's Legacy

Ezzy knelt in the Room of Requirement, now transformed into a sunlit study. Shelves groaned with his mother's journals, their pages fluttering as if alive.

Entry 34: The Blight consumes all. Tharion's curse is a vortex—siphoning magic to sustain the caster. To stop it, the source must be shattered.

Ezzy's hands trembled. A sketch of a jagged obsidian dagger glared up at him, labeled The Heart of Tharion.

"You knew, Mum," he murmured. "And you failed."

A shadow flickered in the corner. Professor Riddle stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Elle's work was… ambitious. And dangerous. You tread the same path, Ezekiel."

"I have to finish what she started," Ezzy said fiercely.

Riddle tossed him a silver vial. "Then you'll need this. Phoenix tears—for when your ambition outpaces your skill."

The Grove's Secret

Jane and Neville crept through the hidden grove, guided by Aelara's faint song. Moonlight dappled the mossy ground, illuminating a stone altar stained black.

"N-Neville, look," Jane stammered, pointing at a dagger embedded in the earth—obsidian, jagged, pulsating with malice.

A figure cloaked in shadows emerged, wand raised. "Fools. This power isn't yours to meddle with."

Jane recognized the voice. "Quirrell?!"

The dagger glowed, and the ground split. Tendrils of dark magic lashed out, snatching the dagger as Quirrell fled.

"Run!" Neville yelped, dragging Jane back as the grove collapsed behind them, but Jane being ever so quick took out his telecrystal and took a photo of the fleeing black hooded figure.

The Healer's Resolve

In the hospital wing, Ezzy stood behind Madam Pomfery who was hovering over a wounded thestral, Madam Pomfrey's book open to Advanced Magical Trauma which Ezzy was reading while observing what Madam Pomfery was performing.

"Vulnera Sanentur," she chanted, hands glowing gold. The thestral's scorched wings knit together, and its labored breathing eased.

Madam Pomfrey watched silently, then nodded. "I don't know how you are able to see a thestral at your age, boy... Or however did you know about Hagrid finding an injured thestral, maybe a coincidence... maybe.... But keep everything you saw and see deep into your heart, and never stop learning."

Ezzy met her gaze and nodded.

The Gathering Storm

That night, the group reconvened in the common room, their findings laid bare.

"Quirrell's using Tharion's dagger to fuel the curse," Jane panted, still shaken.

"And my mother tried to stop it," Ezzy said, clutching her journal. "We need to destroy the dagger."

Hermione spread the ancient parchment. "It's guarded by enchantments. We'll need elemental magic to break them."

Harry stood, determination hardening his features. "Then we need to quickly track Quirrell and Ezzy, get ready to smash that thing."

As they dispersed, Aelara's song echoed through the castle—a mournful dirge and a call to arms.