The echo of footsteps filled the vast stone corridor as Fred, George, Alicia, and Angelina made their way through the restricted wing of the archives. Lit only by floating lanterns, the room felt colder than it should, like the secrets it held didn't want to be found.
"Third door on the left," Alicia whispered, her wand glowing softly.
"Are we even sure this is where Hermione meant?" George asked, frowning at the cobwebbed plaques on the wall.
"She said this is where they kept 'non-classified temporal interference scrolls,' whatever that means," Fred muttered. "Sounds fancy, so it must be cursed."
Angelina elbowed him playfully. "Just open it."
Fred flicked his wand, and the door creaked open to reveal a dusty chamber filled with sealed files, forgotten parchments, and charmed vaults with warnings etched in ancient runes.
George stepped inside first, coughing. "Merlin. Feels like we're about to dig up a Dark artifact."
They scattered, each pulling boxes and scrolls, flipping through old logs, marked spells, and magical behavior reports.
Fred blew a sharp breath. "This place hasn't been touched in years."
Angelina wiped cobwebs from her shoulder. "Or decades."
George raised his wand. "The file Hermione marked should be here… Prophetic Connections, 1980 to 2020."
"Over here!" Alicia's voice rang out from behind one of the taller shelves.
They rushed over to see her crouched on the ground, a weathered scroll in her hands. Its wax seal was cracked but not broken — as though someone had once tried to open it and changed their mind.
"There's no index charm on this one," Alicia muttered. "That's unusual."
George frowned. "Unseal it."
She unrolled the scroll carefully, parchment hissing as it stretched. The handwriting was faded, but legible — the ink glimmered faintly with traces of magic.
Fred read aloud, slowly."When the blood of two lines converge, darkness shall rise in fours... one shadowed, one stolen,…If time is awakened again, two more shall be taken; only the one awake can save them all...."
A pause. The group exchanged glances.
Angelina whispered, "That sounds like—"
Alicia cut in. "Wait. There's more."
Near the bottom of the scroll, five names appeared, each etched in a different hand, as if added at separate times:
Minerva Poppy PotterDaisy FinniganJames Sirius PotterRose Granger-Weasley
Nova Weasley
They all stared.
Fred was the first to speak. "Bloody hell."
"They're all connected somehow…" George murmured. "But how do you get from Minerva to Daisy to James and Rose?"
Angelina leaned closer. "5 children. Two are currently unconscious. One...is still awake."
"And two of the others just woke up," Alicia added softly. "It's all converging now."
Fred straightened. "We need to bring this to Hermione. Right now."
Just as he turned, a silvery flash zipped through the air — McGonagall's patronus, stern and urgent:
"You are needed at once. The castle will be locked down for inspection. Come immediately."
Angelina swore under her breath. "No time. We take what we have and run."
Fred rolled the scroll back up, stuffing it inside his cloak. "This changes everything."
George nodded grimly. "And it's only just begun."
The wind howled as Fred, George, Alicia, and Angelina Apparated just outside the gates of Hogwarts. None of them spoke a word as they rushed up toward the castle—scroll in hand, the prophecy still spinning in their minds like a puzzle begging to be solved.
As they crossed the threshold, Filch barely had time to grunt before McGonagall herself appeared at the end of the corridor, her expression as severe as ever.
"Come," she said briskly. "Now."
Without hesitation, they followed her through the stone corridors until they reached her office. Inside, it was chaos—Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, and even Arthur and Molly were already waiting. Tension hung in the air like thick fog.
"You found something," Hermione said, barely letting them sit.
Fred nodded, holding out the scroll. "We don't know how it was hidden for so long. It wasn't in the usual archives—it was in a magically locked drawer in one of the old Unspeakable cabinets."
George unrolled the scroll slowly and placed it on McGonagall's desk.
Everyone leaned in.
The parchment was faded but still legible, written in elegant, looping script:
"When the blood of two lines converge, darkness shall rise in fours…One shadowed, one stolen…If time is awakened again, two more shall be taken;Only the one awake can save them all."
In smaller text underneath, a list of five names shimmered in old, enchanted ink:
Minerva Poppy Potter
Daisy Finnigan
James Sirius Potter
Rose Granger-Weasley
Nova Weasley
Alicia tapped the list. "These aren't just names. They're part of the prophecy. And they match everything that's been happening."
"Minerva and Daisy…" Angelina murmured, voice trailing off.
"They've already vanished," Hermione whispered, eyes wide. "That makes two."
Harry looked sharply toward the parchment. "James and Rose... they're next."
"And that," said Fred, his voice low, "leaves one."
Everyone turned toward the last name.
"Nova," Ginny breathed.
"She's the one awake," McGonagall said grimly, "and the one who can save them all."
"But what does that mean?" Ron asked, brow furrowed. "What does she have to do? She hasn't even attended Howarts yet."
"That," Alicia said, folding the scroll slowly, "is what we need to figure out. And fast."
Just then, an enchanted parchment fluttered into the room, landing in McGonagall's hand. Her eyes scanned it quickly before she straightened.
"Inspection begins in fifteen minutes. Lock down the castle. We're not waiting for another to vanish."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Wands were out, eyes sharp, and hearts pounding.
"We'll split into three groups," McGonagall continued. "George and Angelina, take the dungeons. Alicia, Fred, you're on the upper floors. Molly, Arthur, you look around the hospital wing. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry, with me—Great Hall, Astronomy Tower, and then we regroup."
"Flitwick and Hagrid are securing the grounds," added Bill. "And Neville is checking the Room of Requirement, just in case."
"Luna's also been contacted; she'll come tonight," said Molly quietly. "She said she's seen… things. Shadows."
"What kind of shadows?" asked Ginny, already rising.
"She didn't say," Molly whispered. "Only that they're moving closer."
McGonagall stood, towering in her presence. "The students will remain in their common rooms. No exceptions. If anything feels even slightly off—walls too cold, floors humming, torches flickering—report it. Immediately."
"What about James and Rose?" Harry asked.
"They're still under observation. Madam Pomfrey says their magical cores are… unstable. She's keeping them shielded," McGonagall replied, her eyes briefly clouding.
"Are we sure they're safe in the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked.
"They're under three wards," Alicia reassured. "We triple-checked."
Fred placed the scroll in Hermione's hands. "You keep it. If anyone can decode more of it—"
"—It's you," George finished. "And maybe Luna."
McGonagall clapped her hands once. "Go."
The tables had been pushed to the sides. Enchanted flames hovered just below the ceiling, their light dim and flickering.
Students from each house had been escorted in, and were now gathered in small, anxious clusters. Whispers filled the space like mist.
"Do you think someone else is gonna vanish?"
"I heard James Potter had blood coming out his ears—"
"My cousin in Ravenclaw said she saw a shadow behind the mirror in the corridor."
"I saw something too," a third-year muttered. "In the library… between the shelves."
Just then, the doors creaked open and McGonagall stepped in, flanked by Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.
The entire hall went silent.
McGonagall raised her hand.
"This is not a drill," she said clearly. "Until further notice, Hogwarts is under lockdown. You are not in danger—yet. But there have been… incidents. We're investigating the source, and we will protect you."
"Stick with your house groups," Hermione added, her voice steady. "You'll be escorted back to your dormitories. If hurt, inform your Prefects or anyone older. Do not wander, not even to the loo."
Ron gave a tiny half-smile. "Especially not to the loo. Shadows love a quiet corner."
A few students laughed nervously.
But many stared up at the staff and Aurors in silence—because something told them, deep down, that this time…
Something truly dark was moving through Hogwarts.
And this wasn't going to end quietly.