Sorcerer in the world of magic

Throughout that day, Stephen Strange was exceptionally distracted during classes. His body was physically present, seated at his desk with his wand nearby, but his mind wandered far beyond the stuffy walls of Hogwarts. The professors, noticing his unusual absentmindedness for a diligent Ravenclaw, merely nodded approvingly. They attributed it to the natural shock from yesterday's troll incident, believing the young hero was simply grappling with the aftermath of an adrenaline rush. None of them suspected that his thoughts were consumed by entirely different, far more ambitious plans. He mentally rehearsed every detail of his impending nocturnal raid on the Restricted Section of the library, refining his route, anticipating potential obstacles, and strategizing precisely what he needed to find there. For Stephen, this wasn't just a quest for knowledge, but a pressing necessity to elevate his combat prowess to an entirely new, unprecedented level.

Finally, slowly but surely, night descended. Outside the Ravenclaw tower window, darkness deepened, stars ignited one by one in the boundless sky, and the vast castle settled into its familiar, almost palpable slumber. Stephen, waiting until the last sounds of footsteps in the corridors faded and the breathing of his dorm mates became steady and deep, began preparing for his clandestine outing. He vividly remembered that in the past, students had somehow noticed him going out at night, so he decided not to risk it. Focusing, he uttered a quiet yet firm spell, pouring all his will and magical energy into it: "Disillusionment Charm." His silhouette shimmered for a moment, like a trembling heat haze, and then completely vanished, dissolving into the air. The sensation of invisibility was strange but familiar. Now imperceptible and noiseless, he cautiously, step by step, left the room.

Hogwarts corridors at night always seemed longer and more mysterious than during the day. Every creak of the old floorboards beneath his invisible feet, every faint whisper of wind filtering through cracks in the stone walls, echoed in the dead silence. Stephen moved slowly but confidently, his steps light and soundless, his hearing sharpened in the dark, picking up the slightest rustles. He was on high alert, ready to react to the unexpected at any moment.

Suddenly, from around a corner, muffled laughter drifted. The laughter was distinctly not adult, too mischievous and ringing for professors or Filch. It was followed by a dull, gurgling sound, as if something was being filled with water. Curiosity, and perhaps an old, long-forgotten habit of dealing with unforeseen situations, prompted him to cautiously peek around the corner, remaining invisible.

Ahead, near a small alcove with knight's armor, stood none other than the Weasley twins—Fred and George. As always, they were engaged in some mischief. On the floor before them lay a dozen inflated but not yet tied water balloons, and several buckets of water stood nearby.

"Ready, Freddie?" George whispered, his eyes gleaming with anticipation in the dimly lit corridor. In one hand, he held his wand, and with the other, he carefully tied off one of the water-filled balloons.

"Ready as I'll ever be, Georgie!" Fred chuckled, holding another balloon under a stream of water from a nearby fountain, which was magically filling it. "The plan's brilliant. Imagine Dean of Slytherin Severus's face when he heads to breakfast tomorrow morning and gets a refreshing shower right from under these suits of armor!" He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter.

George couldn't help but snicker. "And not just a shower! Our 'Weasley Waterfall' will hit everyone who dares to walk through this corridor! What if he decides to go another way?"

"All the merrier!" Fred shrugged nonchalantly, completely unconcerned about the potential collateral damage of their prank. "The main thing is he doesn't guess it was us. Now, let's get them up high for maximum effect!" He bent down to pick up a filled balloon, preparing to attach it to the ceiling.

But their lively conversation, accompanied by giggles and the gurgling of water, was interrupted. From deep within the corridor, from around a bend, came the familiar, piercing voice of Argus Filch, the school caretaker. His footsteps, accompanied by the squeak of his cleaning cart, were approaching. "Who's there?! I hear you, you delinquents! I know it's you, Weasleys! I can hear your wicked snickers a mile away!"

The twins froze, their eyes wide with horror. The plan had gone awry. In a panic, they began frantically gathering their water bombs, trying to erase their tracks. But it was too late. In their haste, Fred tripped over a bucket, lost his balance, and fell directly into the pile of filled balloons. One of them burst, drenching him with cold water, and then, in a chain reaction, others began to pop, soaking both brothers head to toe. They found themselves wet and helpless, sitting in a puddle.

Stephen, who had been observing from the sidelines, involuntarily flinched. Hearing Filch's approaching, increasingly furious footsteps, he realized the twins were in serious trouble. His sharp mind instantly weighed the options: leave them? Risk being noticed? The instinct to help, which seemed deeply ingrained in his nature, won out. Making an immediate decision, he discreetly drew his wand. Without a second's thought, he whispered a spell, pointing his wand in a completely different direction down the corridor, far from the unfortunate twins: "Accio, statue!" He chose the heaviest, most massive statue in the far part of the corridor, distant from Filch, to ensure maximum effect.

A moment later, a deafening crash echoed, so loud it seemed to shake even the ancient castle walls. The sound of the heavy statue toppling reverberated through the corridors, and Filch, who was almost around the corner, immediately changed his direction.

"What was that?!" Filch shrieked, his voice filled with anticipation. He clearly thought he had finally caught someone red-handed. "What mischief have you gotten into now?! I'm coming! I'm coming for you, you filthy schoolchildren!" His footsteps rapidly receded in the direction of the noise.

The twins, soaking wet and disheveled, quickly exchanged glances, their faces smeared with dust and grime, but a flicker of understanding ignited in their eyes. They had been given a chance. "Thanks, whoever you are!" Fred whispered into the empty air, perfectly aware that their savior could only be someone invisible. George was already nudging him, and without a backward glance, they bolted out of the corridor, leaving behind a trail of wet footprints.

Stephen, still invisible, finally couldn't hold back. Covering his mouth with his hand to suppress the sound, he began to chuckle softly. It was precisely the kind of absurd, almost theatrical moment he cherished from his past life, when he could observe human eccentricities from the sidelines. The Weasleys were simply tireless in their pranks. This small deviation from his plan, however, added a particular zest to his nocturnal excursion.

Finally, when the corridor was empty and Filch's footsteps had completely faded into the distance, Stephen successfully entered the Restricted Section of the library. Stepping inside, he was enveloped by an atmosphere of old books and ancient silence. He knew that the most dangerous and powerful knowledge was never openly displayed, accessible to everyone. His intuition, honed by years of studying esoteric arts, told him that the true secrets must be well-hidden. Stephen activated his mental abilities, allowing his mind to scan the space, penetrate illusions, and sense anomalies in the magical fields. He sought hidden passages, camouflaged shelves, or any other signs of concealed compartments. He could feel the energy of the Restricted Section, like an ancient, slumbering entity, respond to his mental touch.

And there, deep within one of the secret compartments, behind an expertly crafted illusory wall hidden from ordinary eyes, he found what he was looking for. It wasn't just a book, but an ancient tome with a thick leather binding, seemingly infused with time itself. Its cover was etched with strange runes, and the pages, bound with yellowed parchment thread, smelled of centuries of history. The book, as he immediately understood from its aura and the style of its entries, was written from the personal notes and research of Salazar Slytherin himself. Its content filled Stephen with genuine awe: these were detailed records of his daring and terrifying experiments on the soul and descriptions of three lethal curses that affected not the physical body of the victim, but directly their soul.

He began to devour the tome, turning pages with almost feverish eagerness. The more he read, the clearer the frightening truth became: the power of these curses directly depended on the strength of the soul of the one who wielded them. This was knowledge bordering on the forbidden.

Stephen paused, his gaze fixed on the ancient runes. He muttered to himself, as if evaluating a new, incredible variable in his magical formula: "My soul... imbued with the experience of two lives, and in the first, I was the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth... it must be incredibly strong." If he could master these curses and apply them, it would become a most powerful ace in his coming, inevitable struggle against Voldemort. But he also understood that he had to be extremely careful, for these curses were strictly forbidden, and if he were caught, the consequences would be catastrophic, perhaps even worse than what awaited him in his past life.

Having finished his study and committed everything he needed to memory, absorbing the knowledge like a sponge, Stephen realized it was already late. The first rays of dawn might soon appear on the horizon. He carefully placed the tome back into its hidden spot, meticulously restoring the illusory wall. Then, just as cautiously as he had entered, he left the Restricted Section, ensuring he left no trace of his presence. Removing the Disillusionment Charm from himself, he slipped silently into his bed before Hogwarts Castle fully awakened with the morning sun.