NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12: Kicking Off the School Year with a Bang
Amid the dim candlelight around him, Harry sat in a daze at an empty long table, glancing up at the unfamiliar starry sky, so different from Faerûn's. It took him a while to realize it might not yet be breakfast time.
With nothing else to do, Harry decided to explore. Before embarking on his adventure, he habitually cast three Level 1 spells on himself for safety: Grease to enhance his movement speed, False Life to add a protective magical layer to his body, and Mage Armor to slightly boost his defense.
With preparations complete, a small figure darted down the corridor towards the dungeons.
Passing a stretch of barren, damp stone walls, Harry came across two tightly shut doors. He tried pushing one but found it locked. The other one, however, opened with a bit of luck.
Peeking cautiously inside, he found a dimly lit room with shelves lining the walls, holding large glass jars filled with grotesque specimens. At the far end of the room stood another closed wooden door.
He pushed it experimentally, but it didn't budge. Harry's adventurer instincts—thoroughly ingrained in him—kicked in, and he began rummaging through the dimly lit room.
About ten minutes later, Harry left the room, satisfied and laden with loot, thoughtfully shutting the door behind him.
After exploring the dungeons, Harry re-cast Grease on himself and headed up to the second floor, his curiosity unrelenting.
By the time Harry had wandered through every door he could open in the castle, gathering a fair share of treasures, he found himself on the fourth-floor corridor—the one marked as forbidden. After a brief hesitation, he resolutely ventured inside.
He was soon stopped by yet another locked door at the corridor's end.
"Forget it. I'll come back to explore this area later," Harry muttered, patting his bulging bag. "For now, the priority is to stash all these goodies."
Flying back to Gryffindor Tower on the eighth floor, Harry noticed the sky was already growing light. Watching as Hogwarts began to stir, Harry abandoned his plan to return to the dormitory with his loot.
Pacing back and forth in the corridor, deep in thought about where to hide his newfound treasures, Harry's peripheral vision caught sight of a door. It was on the left wall—one he was certain hadn't been there before.
Driven by the spirit of a true adventurer, Harry pushed the ornately patterned door open.
Inside, the space was massive, like a grand cathedral. Harry gazed at the sight before him: a city-like maze of towering walls built from piles of old furniture, broken trinkets, and thousands of books scattered among the chaos.
Harry pulled out a few books to inspect them. One was covered in bizarre graffiti, while another—a thick tome with a brown-black leather cover titled Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled—piqued his curiosity.
After skimming through it for half an hour, Harry tossed the book aside with a look of disdain.
Compared to The Tome of Undeath by Zain, this so-called Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled was utter trash. It couldn't even guide someone in resurrecting the dead—what "advanced dark arts" was that supposed to be?
Still, the vast trove of items ignited Harry's interest. He navigated the narrow paths, rummaging for anything useful.
He found enchanted items still faintly glowing as they hovered over heaps of contraband, jars of solidified potions, strange hats, jewelry, cloaks, dragon eggshells, bottles containing eerie glowing liquids, rusted swords, a blood-stained axe, and a grotesque goblin-like creature preserved in a jar.
One chest-of-drawers appeared to have been splashed with acid; inside its hollow remains, Harry found a cage containing a long-dead creature with five legs. There was also a grimy old tiara perched atop the head of an ugly wizard mannequin.
Harry paused. Something felt off.
He turned back to the mannequin and focused on the rusty tiara. It emanated a powerful magical aura intertwined with a deep, hidden malevolence.
Recalling descriptions from Advanced Dark Arts Unveiled, Harry's eyes widened in shock.
"This... this is a Horcrux?"
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When breakfast time came, the house tables were laden with food. Students trickled into the Great Hall in groups, following the arrival of the faculty.
Some observant students noticed that the teachers looked unusually grim. Snape, perpetually sour-faced, was unsurprisingly the same. But even Professor Sprout, the ever-cheerful Hufflepuff Head, appeared unusually serious as she murmured quietly with Professor McGonagall. Students sitting nearby caught snippets of words like "thief" and "burglar."
As the hall buzzed with speculation, Harry entered, carrying a rusty tiara in one hand and a thick brown-black book in the other, promptly catching Hermione's attention.
"Harry, were you at the library all morning?" Hermione called out, waving half a baguette at him.
Harry, however, mouthed to her to wait before heading straight for the staff table.
"Professor Dumbledore, I've discovered a major problem," Harry said, looking up at the headmaster, who regarded him curiously over his half-moon spectacles.
"What kind of problem could be so urgent you skipped breakfast?" Dumbledore asked, setting aside his plate of sweets.
"I found a Horcrux in a room on the eighth floor," Harry said.
The smile vanished instantly from Dumbledore's face, his blue eyes narrowing sharply.
Next to him, McGonagall gasped, staring at Harry and Dumbledore in shock, while Snape stood abruptly, fixing Dumbledore with an intense, dark gaze.
"This is a serious matter. Let's discuss it in the Headmaster's office," Dumbledore said gravely.
He rose from his seat, a fiery bird appearing on his shoulder. McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout each reached out to grab his robes. Harry, however, was unceremoniously dragged into their midst by Snape.
The six figures disappeared from the Great Hall, leaving behind a rising murmur of student chatter and a group of puzzled professors—except for Quirrell, whose face had gone pale and uncharacteristically silent.
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