CHAPTER 37

Moriarty turned a quiet corner and found Peeves hovering mid-air. "Mr. Moriarty, lately," Peeves began in a singsong tone.

"If you're still going to ask last year's question, then I'll save us both the trouble—I still don't know," Moriarty replied casually. He wasn't in the mood to play games.

Peeves huffed dramatically. "Why are you all so serious? It's so boring—just asking questions and solving problems like ticking boxes. You always say life is a journey, but is traveling just snapping pictures and ticking lists? You say life's a play, but wear a mask too long and you forget who you are."

Moriarty narrowed his eyes at him, intrigued. "I'm constantly surprised by your insight, Peeves. You've piqued my curiosity—who are you really? Or rather, what are you?"

"Brilliant question, Mr. Moriarty," Peeves said with unexpected gravity. His voice turned smooth and compelling, shedding all prior jest. "When you truly uncover that answer, you may finally grasp what it means to graduate from this school."

He gave a little laugh, as if suddenly remembering himself. "Of course, I shouldn't be saying this. I know you're confused—and I'm here to help."

"Help?" Moriarty folded his arms, amused. "By all means, Mr. Peeves."

"Nicolas Flamel isn't the only alchemist in the world," Peeves said, drifting around Moriarty. "Some are long gone—maybe not even human. But one of them, I know, still lingers in the castle."

"It?" Moriarty raised an eyebrow. Was Peeves referring to a mural, a suit of armor, a ghost?

"Didn't your dear headmaster mention it?" Peeves whispered into his ear. "You used Parseltongue, commanded the castle's paintings, armor, and even the stone piers. But there's one portrait—one that never joins the others in defending Hogwarts…"

"The Headless Horseman!" Moriarty exclaimed. "Dumbledore mentioned that! Are you saying that's the alchemist?"

"A knight!" Peeves whispered, almost defensively. "Or so it's said. I couldn't see through him. But I once passed Merlin's portrait and saw him casting a spell on a tree—alchemy, yes! That's it—alchemy!"

His voice crescendoed wildly as if trying to convince himself. Moriarty remained skeptical, though he maintained his composure. "Alright, Sir Peeves. I'll go speak with him. Where do I find him?"

Peeves shrugged mid-air. "No one knows. He doesn't stay in one portrait. He drifts through the murals of other paintings. No fixed abode." He began floating away. "Good luck, Mr. Moriarty. I hope you've figured it out by the next time we meet."

As Peeves vanished, Lilith appeared behind Moriarty. "The Bloody Baron left as well," she reported. "He said Jericho might be in the library. Where to next?"

"To the library," Moriarty said at once. "That boy must be running himself ragged. Let's make sure he gets some rest."

When they arrived, the library was empty of people, save for the faint glow from the Restricted Section. Mrs. Pince wasn't present, which meant Jericho had likely used a Disillusionment Charm.

"Aparecium!" Moriarty whispered, casting a revealing charm. Sure enough, Jericho appeared, curled up on the floor of the Forbidden Section with several books in his arms.

Lilith read the titles aloud, eyebrows raised. "'The Origins of Alchemy,' 'A Practical Guide to Alchemical Formulas.' I'd never believe Jericho was capable of this if I hadn't seen it."

Moriarty gently levitated the sleeping boy, but the movement roused him. Jericho flailed midair and tumbled down, eyes blinking open.

"Sir! You're back? That's great—I mean, good! I've found a few texts you might like! But really, don't overwork yourself, sir—even Nicolas Flamel had to rest. We've got time, so—well, no rush—"

He rambled nervously, and Moriarty smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're right. We've got time. Let's go on… an adventure, then?"

He gave a wink. "Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without a proper night excursion. Fancy challenging Filch's new upgrades? His kerosene lantern and those cursed boots Professor Nicole enchanted—ha, Lilith had the worst time with them!"

"Lilith?"

He paused. Lilith was no longer behind them. He turned to look—and found her crouching near the farthest row of shelves.

"Moriarty, come here," she called in a hushed, urgent tone.

He and Jericho joined her—and there they saw Gemma Farley fast asleep atop several thick tomes, all dealing with complex magical theory and alchemy.

"Why didn't you assign her something?" Lilith scolded. "She probably thought you didn't value her help. Yet she still researched for you."

Moriarty didn't respond, only drew his cedar wand. With a quiet incantation, he conjured a soft bed and gently placed Gemma upon it. Now was not the time to return her to the dormitory.

With that done, he led Lilith and Jericho out.

"Let's find the Headless Horseman," Moriarty said firmly. "Everyone's doing their part. I can't ignore that."

Even if the Horseman turned out to be a myth—even if he knew nothing of alchemy—Moriarty needed to search.

Still cautious, he told Jericho and Lilith to alert him immediately if they spotted the Headless Horseman.

Back in the castle, the trio agreed to begin from the first-floor murals. They searched everywhere—nothing.

By three o'clock, the castle slumbered, but the three friends were more awake than ever.

"Moriarty," Lilith said, frustration clear in her voice, "I think it's time to use Salazar's spell—the one to command the castle. The Headless Horseman is nowhere to be found, and none of the portraits even acknowledge him!"

"Are you mad?" Jericho exclaimed. "At three in the morning? A castle-wide spell? That'll wake the whole school! We'll be facing detentions and point deductions till Christmas!"

"No spells," Moriarty said. "Peeves said the Horseman wanders between murals. We've checked them all. That means he's hiding somewhere we wouldn't think to check."

"Where wouldn't we check?" Lilith mused aloud. "We've scoured the Great Hall, dungeons, Slytherin common room, every floor—even the Astronomy Tower."

"I even snuck into the Gryffindor common room," Jericho grinned. "Overheard the Weasley twins whispering the password—couldn't help myself. If it weren't for a bet they made, they might have torn the place apart looking for him too."

"I answered the riddle at Ravenclaw's bronze knocker and got in," Moriarty added. "They weren't happy with the late-night intrusion—but no sign of the Horseman there either."

"So that rules out every known room," Lilith said with a sigh. "Was Peeves lying?"

"If he was telling the truth," Jericho added, "then where else could he be?"

Their words sparked something. Moriarty's eyes lit up. "One place remains—the Headmaster's Office."

Jericho blanched. "You want us to sneak into Dumbledore's office? Tonight?"

Moriarty didn't answer, but the glint in his eyes said it all.

"Oh no," Lilith groaned, pushing her bangs back. "For a maybe-not-even-real ghost? That sounds exactly like something Peeves would invent just to spook night-wandering students."

She gave him a McGonagall-worthy glare. "Do you really want to risk detention over this? What if Dumbledore's in there?"

"I'll find out," Moriarty said, already ascending toward the eighth floor. Lilith and Jericho scrambled after him.

At the entrance, Moriarty whispered to the gargoyle guardian, "Paro? Paro!"

The stone beast stirred, annoyed at first, then softened. "Mr. Moriarty? Your ever-loyal Paro at your service…"

"Paro, is the Headmaster inside?" Moriarty interrupted.

Paro pondered. "I am not supposed to disclose such information… but since you asked… Headmaster Dumbledore is not in. According to the portraits, he's gone to Hogsmeade."

"Then open the entrance, Paro," Moriarty commanded.

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