It began the next night.
At first, Harry thought it was a dream — the kind that wraps around your skull like wet cloth, the kind you can't wake from.
But then he opened his eyes.
And the whisper was still there.
"…sileras… not yet… not ready…"
The words were faint, curling in the corners of the room, flickering behind the stone walls like wind trapped between pages. He sat up in bed, breath caught in his throat.
Everyone else was asleep.
But something was speaking.
To him.
The Days After – The Voice Doesn't Leave
It wasn't constant — not at first.
Sometimes it came when he walked too close to the dungeon's edge.Sometimes it echoed between words in class, slipping between Snape's silences or in the pauses between Lockhart's lies.
Once, during lunch, he felt it like a hand at the base of his spine — cold, ancient, waiting.
"…you opened it…""…you are marked…"
It didn't speak in full sentences. Just fragments. Memories. Urges.
And always in that same green-laced voice — soft, curling, impossible to trace.
Slytherin Common Room – The Warning
"Have you ever heard magic speak to you?" Harry asked Theodore that night, keeping his voice low.
Theodore raised one eyebrow but didn't look up from his book.
"No."
"Not even when you cast something powerful?"
Theodore turned a page.
"No. But then, I don't summon ancient forces from blood-written books in hidden rooms."
Harry's chest tightened. "You don't think I imagined it."
"No," Theodore said. "I think you woke something. And I think you should be very careful about what you listen to."
He looked up then — and for once, his usual calm flickered.
"Because if something's whispering to you… it means it wants to be heard."
Snape's Office – The Scratch on the Wall
Snape had called him in under the pretense of a brewing critique.
But halfway through the lecture, he paused mid-sentence and stared at Harry for a long, uncomfortable beat.
"Potter. What spell did you cast during the Gauntlet?"
Harry's heart thudded.
"I don't know its name," he said honestly. "It wasn't in Latin."
Snape's gaze sharpened.
"Describe it."
Harry hesitated. "Green light. Coiled. Sharp."
Snape turned toward his wall. Traced his fingers over a thin groove in the stone.
"Some magic," he said softly, "leaves more than memories."
He turned back, robe trailing behind him like smoke.
"If it speaks again… do not answer. Not yet."
The Book – A New Page Appears
That night, Harry opened the spellbook again — even though his hands shook doing it.
Where before there had been blank parchment, now a page had written itself.
Not ink.
Something darker.
Burned into the page as if by flame:
To awaken the language is to bleed the world.The Chamber stirs. The bloodline remembers.
You are not alone.
Harry's scar throbbed.
Final Scene – In the Darkness
That night, in a forgotten corridor, a figure moved beneath a stolen invisibility cloak.
The figure pressed their fingers to the stone wall. Whispered a single word.
"Open."
Nothing happened.
But the wall was warm. Alive.
Waiting.