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As the eldest among them, Cedric naturally stepped forward without hesitation. The moment he noticed the approaching figure, he drew his wand and pointed it at the hooded silhouette.
“Who are you?! What do you want?!”
But what answered him was a sharp whooshing sound, followed by a piercing shout that shattered the night sky.
A blinding surge of green light illuminated the forest, so intense it forced everyone’s eyes shut. Yet they all recognized the spell—and they heard something heavy collapse beside him.
When they finally regained their senses and opened their eyes, they found Cedric sprawled on the ground.
Megan let out a scream and whipped her wand toward the hooded figure.
But it was futile. The hooded figure flicked their wand, deflecting her spell with ease, and countered with another flash of green light.
Ron, quick on his feet, yanked Megan aside just in time to avoid the curse.
“What do we do?!” Megan asked, her voice trembling with panic.
“We fight!” Ron roared, fury blazing in his eyes as he flung a spell.
As his spell shot forth, a familiar voice echoed beside him.
They turned in surprise to see Cedric, somehow back on his feet, wand in hand and already striking back.
But the hooded figure suddenly grew serious. Blocking every spell with precision, they then used Transfiguration to bind each of them in place, one by one, rendering them immobile.
“Who the hell are you?!” Ron spat. “You cowardly, sneaking—”
To his shock, the figure burst into laughter.
Gasping for breath between fits of mirth, they doubled over, the hood slipping off their head.
Harry slapped his thigh, releasing them with a wave of his wand, then pointed at Cedric—now glowing a vibrant green—and laughed so hard he nearly stumbled.
Only then did the others notice Cedric’s fluorescent green sheen, and they couldn’t help but join in the laughter.
“Good heavens, how did you manage that?” Hermione asked, her curiosity overriding any concern for Cedric. “You said ‘Avada Kedavra,’ but what came out was… a coloring charm?”
“That’s a secret,” Harry replied with a grin, tucking his wand away as he addressed Hermione. “Unfortunately, you lot didn’t meet my standards—so I won’t be teaching you this spell.”
“Why not?” Ron grumbled, puffing out his cheeks. “You’re so powerful—how could we possibly beat you…”
“No, it’s not about beating me,” Harry said, wagging a finger. “It’s about how you handled it. Look at Cedric—in a situation , facing a hooded wizard, your first instinct was to point your wand and ask who they are? Did you really think they’d say, ‘Oh, dear Cedric, I’m just here to take your life’?”
Cedric shifted awkwardly, rubbing at the glowing green on his skin, though it wouldn’t come off.
“And the rest of you—Cedric messed up, but did you have to follow suit?” Harry scolded, his tone sharp with exasperation. “If I were you, the least I’d do in that scenario is hit an unknown figure with ‘Stupefy’—and follow it up with ‘Reducto’ to make sure the threat’s neutralized.”
“So how do you maximize the threat?” Ron asked, a bit dim-wittedly.
“With a harmless little hex, my dear Ronniekins,” Harry said, mimicking Hermione’s eye-roll.
Ron opened his mouth, then closed it, realizing Harry had a point.
“This is wisdom born from countless real battles,” Harry sighed. “In an environment , when you don’t know if they’re friend or foe, the best greeting is a spell. If they’re truly your friend, I doubt they’d scare you like that…”
“But you still scared us,” Hermione muttered, still shaken. For a moment, she’d genuinely thought Cedric was dead.
“Sorry, Hermione, this was a combat simulation,” Harry said with a huff. “In a real fight, you’d all be dead by now—but if you’d worked together and thrown some spells my way, you might’ve had a chance to escape.”
“I think Harry’s right,” Cedric said, his breathing steadying as he flashed Harry a sunny smile. “Think about it, everyone—this time, it was Harry testing us. But if we face a real dark wizard next time, we won’t just stand there like fools waiting for them to hit us with the Killing Curse. We’d have time to run—or even defeat them.”
“Well said, Cedric,” Harry replied, returning the smile. “If you can see it that way, then this exercise wasn’t a total failure. You’ve learned something, at least.”
“So can you get rid of this paint now?” Cedric asked sheepishly.
Harry drew his wand and cast a quick “Scourgify,” wiping the green fluorescence from Cedric’s body.
“It actually looked pretty good,” Harry mused, resting his chin in his hand. “A perfect skull shape, don’t you think?”
With that, he pulled a few wolves from his pouch.
“Of course, these wolves aren’t your assignment,” Harry said, ruffling one’s head as it lolled its tongue out like a husky, fawning over him. “Not today, at least—given how you all did, we’ll save the next combat drill for later.”
“This was just the start. Next time, the green paint won’t come off so easily,” Harry added with a wink.
“Harry, how did you do that?” Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued again. She stepped closer but hesitated, recognizing the creatures as wolves, and opted to observe from a distance. “Those are wolves—how did you get them to obey you? Was it that spell?”
She didn’t dare say “Imperius Curse,” settling for “that spell” instead.
“The Imperius Curse?” Harry shook his head. “No, it’s best not to use that on animals—though it works fine on bugs like spiders. I wouldn’t recommend making one jump on Ron’s face, though.”
“Harry!” Ron snapped indignantly.
“I’m just telling Hermione not to do it—you’re blaming the wrong person,” Harry said with a cheeky grin.
But judging by Hermione’s expression, she was clearly tempted.
If Ron doesn’t start studying his spells properly, I’ll definitely do it, she thought.
In that moment, she’d even forgotten that using the Imperius Curse could get her expelled.
The outdoor training session was over, so there was no point lingering outside.
Back in the dormitory, Harry flopped onto his bed, emptying his mind and drifting swiftly into sleep.
The next morning, he was jolted awake by a cold sensation.
Blinking groggily, he opened his eyes to find a bespectacled female ghost hovering over him.
“You’re Harry Potter?” she asked, hands on her hips. “I hear you’ve been looking for me lately?”
Harry squinted at her, puzzled. “And you are…?”
“Myrtle,” she replied curtly. “Moaning Myrtle. I just got back from the Black Lake this morning and heard from that Granger girl in your house that you wanted to talk. So, what does someone like you want with poor, ugly Myrtle?”
Ron and Seamus stirred awake at the sound, spotting Myrtle and groaning in unison, “Oh, come on! This is the boys’ dorm! What’s a female ghost doing here?”
“Looks like I’m not welcome!” Myrtle huffed, then twisted into her usual self-pitying tone. “Of course, who’d want pathetic, weepy, unattractive Myrtle around?”
“Come with me, Myrtle,” Harry said with a smile. “People are still sleeping—we need a quiet spot to talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked warily, eyeing him. “No one’s wanted to chat with me since I became a ghost—not even that Dumbledore of yours, who I watched go from red beard to white, bothers with me much…”
Seeing her about to spiral into another pity party, Harry quickly interjected, “Alright, come on, Myrtle…”
“Oh,” she muttered, deflated, and followed him reluctantly.
Truth be told, she didn’t mind someone wanting to talk. In a castle like Hogwarts, she really wasn’t well-liked.
Harry led Myrtle out of the Gryffindor common room and up to an empty classroom on the second floor—the one that once held the Mirror of Erised.
Along the way, heads turned. Gryffindors whispered about why Harry was with Moaning Myrtle, while Ravenclaws marveled that anyone would seek her out at all.
“Alright, what do you want to know?” Myrtle demanded once they were inside, cutting straight to the point.
Harry cleared his throat, searching for a tactful question.
“I don’t have much to ask, really—just wanted to talk about the Chamber.”
“The Chamber?” Myrtle frowned. “What’s that?”
“The legendary Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts—” Harry began, then realized his approach was off.
Myrtle only knew where she’d died, not what the Chamber was.
He’d need to rephrase it.
So he tried again. “Actually, I wanted to ask… how did you die?”
At that, Myrtle’s face darkened instantly.
“I knew it—you’re just here to make fun of poor Myrtle! Merlin’s beard, can’t you little wizards pick on someone else?”
“No, Myrtle,” Harry sighed. “This is serious—for Hogwarts. The monster that killed you is back. In just a short time, it’s caused several incidents. Believe me, Myrtle, you’re the only one who can save Hogwarts now!”
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