After dinner, Hogwarts entered its most relaxed hours of the day.
Students wandered freely through the castle corridors, chatting with friends, exploring hidden corners, or burying themselves in books inside the library. For young wizards, the evenings were precious.
Of course, there were rules.
Once curfew arrived, every student was expected to return to their own House dormitory immediately. Remaining outside too long after hours was incredibly dangerous—not because of monsters or dark wizards, but because Hogwarts itself became unpredictable at night.
The moving staircases shifted constantly.
Corridors changed.
Passages vanished.
A route familiar during the day might lead somewhere completely different after dark.
And worst of all…
Argus Filch would begin patrolling.
According to upper-year rumours, the caretaker treated rule-breaking students like escaped criminals. Combined with his horrifying cat, Mrs Norris, Filch supposedly specialised in devising cruel punishments for unlucky children wandering the castle at night.
At least, that was how first-years imagined him.
.....
Inside a quiet trophy room somewhere deep within Hogwarts, Harry stood pressed against a glass display cabinet with wide eyes full of disbelief.
Rows of medals, plaques, and Quidditch trophies gleamed beneath the torchlight.
But Harry barely noticed any of them.
Because one particular name had captured all his attention.
James Potter.
Harry stared at the moving photograph attached to one of the old Quidditch awards. In the image, his father looked confident, smiling proudly while holding a broom beneath one arm.
The sight hit Harry harder than expected.
Warmth slowly spread through his chest.
Maybe…
Maybe he really could do this.
Maybe he really could become someone valuable to Gryffindor's Quidditch team.
Just like his father once had.
Harry turned toward Hermione with genuine gratitude in his eyes.
"Hermione," he said sincerely, "thank you for bringing me here."
Hermione blinked. "Hm?"
"You helped me get my confidence back."
Harry smiled slightly.
"I think I'm finally ready to give Quidditch a real try."
Ron immediately looked impressed again.
"I never realised your dad was this amazing," he admitted. "Honestly, you probably inherited his flying talent."
But Hermione barely reacted.
Instead, she looked strangely distracted.
After hesitating briefly, she suddenly asked, "Where's Logan?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
Hermione quickly added, trying to sound casual, "I mean… isn't he usually with you two?"
Why hadn't she seen him all evening?
Harry immediately understood something and gave Hermione a slightly strange look.
"Ron and I haven't seen him since dinner," Harry admitted. "He said he had something important to do and disappeared somewhere on his own."
Hermione touched her chin thoughtfully after hearing this.
What exactly was Logan doing?
Lately, he had become increasingly mysterious.
Was he secretly studying magic somewhere again?
Investigating Hogwarts secrets?
Or…
Hermione's thoughts suddenly drifted in a dangerous direction.
No.
Impossible.
Probably.
Before she could continue overthinking things, she forcefully stopped herself.
There was a more immediate problem.
They had already spent far too much time wandering around the castle.
"If we don't leave now, we'll break curfew," Hermione warned firmly.
Ron instantly looked nervous.
The stories about Filch had traumatised nearly every first-year already.
The three hurried out of the trophy room and rushed toward the central staircase hall.
At first, everything seemed normal.
Then Hermione suddenly frowned.
Something felt… wrong.
The floating staircases looked different somehow.
Before she could think about it further, the moving stairs shifted once again beneath them.
By the time the three climbed upward and stepped onto the next floor, they immediately realised the problem.
This wasn't the route back to Gryffindor Tower.
The corridor around them was completely unfamiliar.
Dark.
Silent.
And strangely eerie.
Harry looked around nervously. "Uh… this definitely isn't the right floor."
Hermione nodded slowly.
"The staircases must've changed because of the time," she explained. "We probably followed the correct route originally, but the castle redirected us somewhere else."
Ron's face immediately turned pale.
"What do we do now?"
He looked genuinely panicked.
"We barely know anything about Hogwarts yet! How are we supposed to get back?"
Hermione frowned deeply while thinking.
Just as she opened her mouth to answer—
"Meow."
A sharp cat's cry echoed from below.
The three froze instantly.
Then a sinister male voice drifted up the staircase.
"Someone's up here…"
Filch.
"Oh, you little troublemakers…" the caretaker muttered darkly. "Just let me catch you…"
Ron nearly died on the spot.
"We're finished," he whispered desperately. "It's Filch!"
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder.
Hermione reacted immediately.
"Quick!" she hissed.
She pointed toward a large black door nearby.
"There's a room there. Hide first!"
Without waiting for agreement, Hermione sprinted toward the door and raised her wand.
"Alohomora!"
Click.
The heavy lock snapped open instantly.
Harry and Hermione rushed inside at once.
Ron practically threw himself through the doorway behind them.
A second later, Filch arrived on the corridor outside.
The old caretaker looked around suspiciously while Mrs Norris prowled nearby sniffing the floor.
"I could swear I heard something…" Filch muttered.
After several tense minutes, he eventually lowered his guard and shuffled away again.
Inside the dark room, Ron clutched his chest dramatically.
"That was terrifying."
Harry wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Good thing Hermione reacted quickly," he admitted. "If Filch had caught us, we'd have been completely doomed."
Hermione couldn't help looking slightly pleased.
"It wasn't difficult," she said proudly. "As long as you study properly and practise enough, simple spells like Alohomora become easy."
Then, naturally, she added:
"Logan definitely wouldn't struggle with it."
Harry nodded immediately.
Honestly, at this point nobody questioned Logan's magical ability anymore.
Just as Ron opened his mouth to speak—
He suddenly froze.
His face turned completely white.
Slowly, Ron raised a trembling finger toward the darkness behind Harry and Hermione.
"M-My God…"
His voice shook violently.
"What is that?"
Harry and Hermione turned around simultaneously.
Then both froze in horror.
Standing inside the dark room behind them…
Was an enormous three-headed dog.
.....
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