After a long evening poring through tomes in the Restricted Section and the deepest corners of the library, the group had returned to the Ravenclaw common room, frustrated. Their eyes were tired, and their hands smelled of old parchment, but they had found little about cases of possession that matched what Louis had sensed in Professor Quirrell.
The common room, lit by flickering blue flames and washed in the soft hum of enchanted lanterns, was quiet. Most students had already gone to bed. Louis, Evangeline, Cho, and Charles sat in a semicircle by the hearth, the warmth of the fire soothing but unable to calm their troubled thoughts.
"I don't like this," murmured Evangeline, pulling her knees to her chest. "There should have been something. Some record, some theory. But it's like the idea of this kind of possession doesn't even exist."
"Maybe it's been suppressed," Louis said, eyes narrowed, gazing into the fire. "Or the truth was too dangerous, so it was buried."
Cho leaned back, her long hair falling over the armrest. "Or people just didn't live to tell about it."
Charles, arms crossed, stared at the flames with a frown. "We can't just ignore it. Whatever's inside Quirrell... it doesn't feel right. It's not just dark—it's intelligent. A predator hiding behind a timid mask."
Louis nodded slowly. "We need to act. We should go to Dumbledore."
The group exchanged glances. None of them feared Dumbledore, but the gravity of what they were about to reveal made the air heavy.
"And we can present him the book," Cho added, a hopeful note in her voice. "That might help him take us more seriously."
Evangeline brightened a little. "We even have a title now."
Louis smiled, lifting the thick manuscript from his satchel. The cover gleamed faintly under the firelight. "Mana's Essence."
"We show him we're not just kids poking around. We're researchers. We've put in the work," Louis said.
The others nodded. The decision was made.
—
The next day passed quietly. Classes, hallways filled with chatter, enchanted staircases shifting lazily—Hogwarts continued as if nothing had changed. Yet for the group, every moment was laced with anticipation.
Finally, after dinner, they made their way through the winding corridors to the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.
"Lemon drop," Louis said clearly.
The gargoyle leapt aside, and the staircase began to spiral upward. None of them spoke during the ascent.
At the top, the heavy oak door opened as they approached. Dumbledore's office was warm, filled with the ticking of enchanted devices and the scent of beeswax and lemon. Fawkes, perched regally near the desk, gave a soft trill as they entered.
Dumbledore looked up from a parchment. His eyes twinkled behind his spectacles.
"Ah, Louis, Miss Chang, Miss and Mister Blackwood. To what do I owe this late-night gathering?"
Louis stepped forward, calm and composed. "Professor, we've discovered something troubling. It concerns Professor Quirrell."
Dumbledore's expression shifted subtly, becoming more alert. He gestured for them to sit.
"We've been observing him carefully," Cho began. "His behavior is odd enough, but Louis noticed something else—something deeper."
Louis leaned forward slightly. "His mana, Professor. It's... bifurcated. There are two signatures. One is his—shy, light. The other is... malevolent. Ancient. It feels like corruption—but intelligent corruption."
Evangeline's voice was softer but firm. "Almost like a second soul."
For a moment, Dumbledore said nothing. Then he stood, walked to the window, and looked out over the dark grounds. When he spoke again, his voice was calm but edged with steel.
"You've done well. And what you've observed is not imagined. I suspected something similar, though I had not yet confirmed it."
The group sat straighter. Dumbledore turned to face them again.
"Thank you for bringing this to me. I will handle it personally. And until further notice, do not confront Professor Quirrell or speak of this to anyone else. Understood?"
They all nodded.
Louis, still holding the manuscript, spoke up again. "There's something else, Professor. I told you at the end of last year that we were working on a book. It's finished now."
He handed the leather-bound volume to the Headmaster.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, intrigued. He opened the cover and read the title aloud: "Mana's Essence."
A silence fell as he skimmed the first few pages. His eyes moved swiftly, but his expression shifted slowly from curiosity to deep interest.
After several long minutes, he closed the book with reverence.
"This," he said, voice low and impressed, "is quite extraordinary."
Louis gave a modest nod. "I refined it over the summer with Nicolas Flamel. But the foundation was already there."
"I see," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "Miss Blackwood's glyphs, Mister Blackwood's foundational theories, and Miss Chang's observational notes... A true collaboration, indeed."
"I've already spoken to my family about funding the initial run," Louis said. "But if Hogwarts could help with the publishing or distribution..."
Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle. "My dear boy, you've given the wizarding world a gift. You won't be paying a single Knut. I'll speak with Flourish and Blotts myself—and perhaps a few friends in the Department of Magical Theory. This deserves attention."
Relief spread visibly across the group. Charles exhaled audibly. Cho smiled brightly. Evangeline leaned back, visibly more relaxed.
Dumbledore's gaze grew thoughtful again. "We'll need to discuss citations, of course, and legal authorship. But more importantly, I want to ensure your names are remembered for this achievement."
He walked behind his desk and gently placed the book beside a silver contraption ticking quietly.
"Leave the rest to me. And thank you—for your courage, your intellect, and your honesty."
The group stood. Dumbledore gave them each a warm look as they filed out.
Back in the quiet halls, the flickering torches casting golden light along the stones, Evangeline broke the silence.
"He really liked it."
Charles gave a rare grin. "We might've actually impressed Dumbledore."
"I told you," Louis said, walking calmly. "Good work speaks for itself."
That evening, they returned to the QG. No discussions, no notes, no debates. Just silence, warmth, and the deep comfort of companionship after a long journey.
Their first major step into the wider magical world had been taken—and the path ahead shimmered with promise.