HP/LOTM: Hogwart's Mind Dragon

"Alright, Mr. Filch," Aiden said, his analysis complete. "I have some preliminary findings."

Mr. Filch swallowed nervously, awaiting his final judgment.

"I can offer you a potential path forward," Aiden continued, his gaze solemn, his heterochromatic eyes seeming to look straight into the old man's soul. "But you will be the first of your kind. The success rate may be very low."

But in Mr. Filch's eyes, Aiden's face was not that of a researcher but of an angel sent from heaven to save him from his suffering. "Oh, Mr. Prewett, I am willing," he choked out, his eyes bloodshot with desperation. "I am willing to give anything."

"Alright," Aiden instructed. "From now on, I need you to learn to meditate as much as possible. At the same time, you must try your best to keep your emotional state stable. Once I have developed a method that can enhance the mental priority of an ordinary person, we will begin the experiment."

"As you command," Mr. Filch bowed deeply.

With that, Aiden and Mr. Filch left the Room of Requirement.

Soon, Halloween arrived. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were invited to attend Sir Nick's five-hundredth Deathday party. The dungeons were decorated in shades of black and grey, and the tables were laden with maggot-ridden, rotting food.

"Oh, this is truly awful," Ron exclaimed, looking at a platter of moldy haggis.

"Perhaps only this rotten food can allow the ghosts to have sensations," Hermione reasoned.

Meanwhile, Aiden was attending the school's official Halloween feast in the Great Hall.

"This is truly the best Halloween feast ever!" Edmund shouted over the noise.

The tables were groaning under the weight of delicious food, and in the middle of the Great Hall, a large troupe of enchanted skeletons was singing and dancing joyfully.

"Headmaster Dumbledore actually invited a skeleton dance troupe," Aiden marveled. "Those who didn't come are probably regretting it immensely." He looked over at the empty seats at the Gryffindor table, raised a glass of iced lemonade, and drank it down.

Finally, the feast concluded with the skeleton dance troupe taking a final, clattering bow, and the students began to happily leave the hall.

Around a corner in a second-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stumbled upon a terrifying sight. Scrawled on the wall in what looked like blood were the words:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"It's blood," Ron whispered, his face pale.

"And look," Harry said, pointing. "It's Mrs. Norris." He stepped forward and gently took down the stiff, petrified form of Filch's cat, which was hanging by its tail from a torch bracket.

Just then, the students leaving the feast began to pour into the corridor. Everyone froze, staring at Harry holding the petrified cat. Colin Creevey instinctively raised his camera to take a picture of his idol, but Aiden, who had just arrived, quickly grabbed the camera and held it down.

"Enemies of the heir, beware," Draco Malfoy sneered, his eyes fixed on Hermione. "You'll be next, Mudbloods."

Aiden shot him a single, cold glance, and the Slytherins who had been snickering behind Malfoy were instantly silenced, as if choked.

"What are you all doing here? Move aside!" Mr. Filch's voice rasped as he pushed his way through the crowd. "Potter, what are you—" He stopped short, his eyes falling on the stiff cat in Harry's hands. "Mrs. Norris? No... who did this to you?" His face crumpled, and then he looked up at Harry, his eyes red with fury. "It was you! I'll make you pay for this! I'll kill you!" He charged at Harry, his hands outstretched like claws.

"Mr. Filch, calm down," Aiden said, his voice imbued with a subtle, calming power.

"Alright, Argus, let's find a quieter place," Dumbledore said, appearing suddenly. He quickly dismissed the surrounding students.

"Ah, I knew it! A shame I wasn't there," Gilderoy Lockhart announced, striding forward. "How about we go to my office?"

The surrounding professors all shot him looks of pure contempt, but they followed him nonetheless.

"Ah, the Petrification Curse," Lockhart said, puffing out his chest once they were inside his office. "Perhaps I happen to know how to reverse it."

"However," Dumbledore said softly, "I still don't know how she was petrified."

"It was him! Potter!" Filch shrieked, trying to lunge at Harry again.

"Tell me your opinion, Aiden," Dumbledore said, quietly diverting everyone's attention.

"This is a powerful piece of Dark Magic," Aiden said, his voice clear and analytical. He mixed a subtle hypnotic suggestion into his words, making them seem all the more convincing. "And in my opinion, Mr. Potter's magical skill has not yet reached this level."

"Oh, I don't see it that way," Snape drawled, stepping out from the shadows. "While we were all enjoying the feast, Mr. Potter and his friends were not present." He approached Harry slowly. "Perhaps we should strip him of his status as a Quidditch player so he can have more time to reflect."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, Head of House Snape," Professor McGonagall replied, deliberately emphasizing his title.

"Alright, Argus," Dumbledore said, ending the argument. "We will take care of Mrs. Norris. Pomona has planted a new batch of Mandrakes, and once they mature, we can lift the petrification."

The next day, rumors that Harry Potter had attacked Mrs. Norris grew wings and flew throughout the entire castle. That afternoon, during History of Magic, just as Professor Binns was closing his textbook, Hermione raised her hand.

"Professor, could you tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?"

The other students, who had been noisily packing their bags, quieted down, eager to hear the story.

"Oh, the Chamber of Secrets," the ghostly professor droned. "A familiar term. It seems it was also opened fifty years ago." He looked around at the students, the light reflecting off his glasses and obscuring his eyes. He began to narrate, his low voice seeming to pierce through time itself.

"Hogwarts was founded by four of the greatest wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Three of the founders believed in accepting all students with magical ability, but Salazar Slytherin wished to be more selective. He believed that only those from pure wizarding families were worthy of learning magic. He could not convince the others, so he decided to leave the school. According to legend, before he left, he built a secret chamber within the castle. He sealed it, to be opened only when his true heir returned to the school. This heir would then be able to unleash the horror within and purge the school of all those whom Slytherin believed were unworthy to study magic."

As Professor Binns said the last sentence, he suddenly gestured wildly and raised his voice to a ghostly shriek, startling all the students.

"Haha!" he cackled, seeing their shocked faces. "But of course, the Chamber of Secrets is just a legend. No one has ever truly found it." And with that, he laughed loudly and drifted out of the classroom, leaving a group of stunned students staring at each other.

"This old man is quite interesting," a voice said from behind Harry and Ron, making them jump.

"Oh, my dear brother," Ron complained, clutching his chest. "Did you know that scaring people like that can give them a heart attack?"

"No, I just happened to be passing by the door," Aiden said innocently. "I felt like there was a story to be heard, so I slipped in. I clearly walked right in front of you and sat down openly." A certain hypnotist, who had used psychological invisibility, insisted that he had, in fact, walked in openly.

(End of Chapter)

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