Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pomni wandered through the strange, ever-shifting corridors of the Digital Circus, her eyes darting nervously from side to side. It had been a week since she’d arrived here, and she still couldn't shake the feeling that the red exit door was real. It had to be real. She'd seen it when she first entered this bizarre world. She swore it.

She reached a hand to her head, massaging her temple as her thoughts spiraled. Nothing in this place made sense. Nothing stayed where it was supposed to. Not the walls, not the objects, and not her memories.

As Pomni turned another corner, lost in her frantic search, she suddenly collided with a wall—except, this wall wasn’t solid. It gave slightly, almost like fabric being pushed.

Her heart skipped a beat. "What the—?" She pressed her hand against it again, and this time, she was sure. It moved.

“Is this it? Is this the exit?” Pomni whispered to herself, hope bubbling up inside her chest. She was about to push harder when—

“Pomni! Over here!”

Pomni jumped, her heart dropping back into its usual knot of fear. She turned to see Ragatha waving from a little distance away, standing by a small table adorned with teacups and a pastel pink teapot.

Right… the tea party. She had forgotten all about it.

Pomni cast one last glance at the strange wall, the urge to investigate still gnawing at her, but she let out a sigh and forced herself to turn away. Ragatha was one of the few people she trusted in this circus of madness, and the last thing Pomni wanted was to upset her.

"Coming!" she called, forcing a small smile as she walked toward the table.

As Pomni approached, Ragatha beamed and pulled out a chair for her. "I thought you'd gotten lost again. You know, with the way this place keeps changing, I wouldn’t blame you."

Pomni let out a nervous laugh, sitting down and smoothing her jester outfit. "Yeah, I… I kind of did. I keep thinking about that red door. I know it sounds crazy, but—"

Ragatha set a cup of tea in front of her with a gentle clink. "It doesn’t sound crazy. We’ve all been there, especially at the start. But… you know what Caine says. There is no exit door."

Pomni flinched at that. The words felt heavy, final. “I just… I know I saw it. Maybe it’s hidden, maybe it’s something he doesn’t want us to find.”

Ragatha’s smile faltered for just a moment, a shadow of sadness crossing her stitched face. “I know. I used to think the same thing. But, Pomni, you can drive yourself insane thinking like that.” She gestured to the teapot. “That's why I do this. I don’t need to have tea. None of us need to eat or sleep. But it helps, you know? Keeps me from… abstracting.”

The word hung in the air like a dark cloud. Pomni swallowed hard. The thought of losing herself, becoming one of those black, twisted creatures… it was too terrifying to think about.

“I guess,” Pomni murmured, staring down at the swirling tea in her cup. “But I can’t just give up. There has to be a way out. I don’t want to stay here forever.”

Ragatha’s eyes softened. “No one does, Pomni. But until we figure it out, we have to stick together, okay? Just… don’t let it consume you.”

Before Pomni could respond, a loud crash came from nearby, followed by an exaggerated groan.

“Oh great,” Ragatha muttered, rolling her eyes. “Here comes trouble.”

Jax sauntered over, smirking as he dusted off his pink overalls. “What are you two whispering about? Secrets? Oh wait, let me guess—still going on about that red door, Pomni?”

Pomni clenched her jaw, trying not to let his words get to her. Jax had made it his mission to poke at her since the day she arrived.

"Go away, Jax," Ragatha said with an exaggerated smile. "We're just having tea. No need for your… ‘input.’"

Jax chuckled, hopping onto the table and sitting right in the middle, completely disregarding the tea cups. “Oh, I’m not interrupting anything, am I? I just wanted to remind Pomni that she’s not getting out. None of us are.”

“Jax!” Ragatha scolded, standing up to shoo him away. “This isn’t helping!”

Pomni’s hands shook slightly as she gripped her teacup tighter. The frustration was bubbling up again, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. Arguing with Jax was pointless.

“I’ll find a way,” Pomni said quietly, standing up from the table. “I have to.”

Jax snickered, but Ragatha placed a hand on Pomni’s arm. “Just… be careful, okay?”

Pomni nodded, her gaze drifting back to the strange wall she had found. She had a feeling there was more to this circus than Caine or Jax were letting on. And she was determined to find out what.

Pomni's feet pounded against the floor as she ran, leaving Ragatha’s concerned voice behind. She knew she shouldn’t run off like this, especially after Ragatha had been so kind to her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. That wall… that strange, shifting wall. She had to know what was behind it.

When she finally reached the spot, her heart raced in anticipation. Pressing her hands against the soft surface, she pushed. The wall gave way, sliding open to reveal a small room bathed in the warm, flickering glow of candlelight. It was unlike any other place she had seen in the Digital Circus—quiet, almost… cozy. Bookshelves lined the walls, stacked high with volumes of books she vaguely recognized.

Books. I remember these, Pomni thought, her pulse slowing as she took a few tentative steps inside. Out of all the scrambled pieces of her memory, books stood out. They were one of the few fragments left of her life before this place, though she couldn't remember what kinds of books she had read or where they were from.

In the center of the room, a wooden table stood with a small stack of books placed carefully on top. She approached it slowly, as if afraid the scene would vanish if she moved too quickly. Her eyes scanned the titles on the covers.

“Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” she whispered to herself, her fingers brushing over the worn spine. The title meant nothing to her. She tried to reach for something in her mind, some spark of recognition, but there was nothing.

She picked up the book on top, examining it closely. “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.”

Each of the books seemed to belong to some kind of series, but nothing clicked. Pomni furrowed her brow, frustrated by the gaps in her memory. How could she remember books but not these specific ones? What else had this place taken from her?

Unable to resist her curiosity, she opened the first book, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone." The moment she flipped to the first page, something inside her shifted. Her eyes scanned the words, quickly becoming absorbed by the story unfolding in front of her. The world of Hogwarts, magic, and characters she couldn’t place danced across the pages, pulling her in deeper and deeper.

Pomni’s usual anxiety, her jittery paranoia that kept her constantly on edge, melted away. For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart wasn’t racing in panic. She felt calm. Peaceful.

Her eyes widened as she continued to read, each line of text filling her with a sense of wonder she hadn’t experienced since arriving in the Digital Circus. Time slipped away, and the strange room around her blurred into the background as she became completely lost in the story.

As she turned the pages, Pomni felt something she hadn’t in a long time—escape. Not a physical exit, but a way out of her own head, even if just for a little while. The world of Hogwarts felt so real to her, even more real than the circus that trapped her. She couldn’t put the book down, flipping through chapter after chapter, her focus entirely absorbed by the adventures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

The more she read, the more the noise of the Digital Circus faded into silence, as if nothing else mattered but the words in front of her. She no longer felt trapped—at least not for the moment.

Suddenly, a crackling sound echoed through the small room, snapping Pomni out of her trance. She blinked, pulling herself from the pages of the book and looking up just as Caine materialized out of thin air in front of her, his ever-present wide grin gleaming under the flickering candlelight.

"Well, well, well!" Caine exclaimed, clapping his hands together with a jovial energy. "Looks like someone’s found their way into the unfinished section of the circus! I must admit, Pomni, I didn’t think anyone would discover this little gem quite so soon!"

Pomni’s heart sank, gripping the book tighter. She had been so absorbed in the story, it was the first time since she arrived that she had felt… something different. Calm, even happy. And now, Caine was here, ready to take it all away.

"The library isn’t quite ready yet," Caine continued, his voice maintaining its cheerful tone as if nothing was amiss. He tilted his head curiously, his large dentures flashing as he smiled down at her. "I’m afraid this little excursion of yours will have to be cut short. But, say, what’s that you’ve got there?"

Pomni instinctively pulled the book closer to her chest, not wanting to let it go. She looked down at the cover of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone again, as if hoping to memorize the feel of it, the weight in her hands. It was silly—she couldn’t remember where these feelings were coming from, but she felt attached to the book already, as if it were a piece of something important.

Caine took a step closer, his curiosity piqued. "Oh come now, Pomni, no need to be shy!" His voice remained playful, but there was a certain sharpness in his gaze, something deeper behind the cartoonish smile. "May I see it?"

Pomni hesitated, biting her lip. She wanted to say no, to refuse, to keep reading. But what could she do? Caine was the master of this place, and even though she didn’t trust him, she knew there wasn’t much choice.

Reluctantly, she loosened her grip and handed the book over, her fingers trembling slightly as she let it go. Caine accepted it with a flourish, examining the cover with a raised brow. For a moment, his constant, manic energy seemed to fade, and he stared at the book in an unusual silence.

"Hmm… Harry Potter… How very curious." He traced a finger along the title, his usually wild expression softening into something unreadable. "It’s been a while since I’ve seen this one."

Pomni furrowed her brow. "You know what it is?"

Caine glanced at her, his grin returning in full force as if shaking off whatever momentary seriousness had come over him. "Oh, well, nothing escapes my knowledge in the circus! But, like I said, the library isn’t quite ready for visitors yet, so… let’s just put this back, shall we?"

Without waiting for her response, he placed the book carefully back onto the shelf. Pomni’s heart sank even further as she watched him, her brief respite from the madness slipping away just as quickly as it had come.

"Now, let’s not dwell on the things we can’t have!" Caine chirped, turning back toward her and gesturing for her to follow. "Come along, Pomni! So many more adventures await! The library will be here when it’s ready."

Pomni stood there for a moment, staring at the shelf where the book now sat, her shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay, to read, to lose herself in the pages again. But Caine was already leading her out, his energy bouncing all over the place as he hummed some tune that grated on her ears.

Reluctantly, Pomni followed him, her feet dragging as they left the warm, candlelit room behind. All she could think about was the book, the story she barely got to dive into. And as the door to the hidden library closed behind them, the world of magic and escape felt even farther away than before.

The inhabitants of the Digital Circus slowly gathered around Caine, who was standing in the center of the circus tent with his usual over-the-top grin plastered across his denture-filled face. The atmosphere buzzed with curiosity and a hint of confusion as the familiar cast of characters—Gangle, Zooble, Kinger, Ragatha, Jax, and Pomni—waited for Caine to unveil his latest "adventure."

Ragatha gave Pomni a gentle nudge. "Do you know what's going on?" she asked quietly, noticing the slight tension in Pomni's stance.

Pomni shook her head, her mind still swirling with thoughts of the library, the books, and what she had seen. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet. It felt… personal.

Caine cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "Gather 'round, gather 'round, my delightful little troupe! Today, I have something extra special for you all!" His cane spun in his hands before he struck a dramatic pose. "But first, a little confession!" He leaned forward with a wink. "It seems our dear Pomni found herself in a part of the circus that wasn't quite… ready yet."

Everyone turned to look at Pomni, who blinked and shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. "I-I didn’t mean to," she stammered, fidgeting with the hem of her jester outfit. "I just… found it by accident."

"Oh, no need to fret, Pomni!" Caine waved off her concern with a flamboyant gesture. "In fact, I owe you a bit of gratitude! You've reminded me of a little project I had tucked away, and while the library you discovered will take about a week to complete, I thought I'd make it up to you with a different kind of adventure."

Jax raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. "Let me guess, another one of your wild goose chases? I swear, if this ends with us running through hoops again—"

Zooble cut in, grumbling. "Or having to solve some nonsensical puzzle that leads nowhere…"

Gangle, clutching her comedy mask to her face, tilted her head. "What kind of adventure, Caine?"

Caine's grin only widened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, now that’s the spirit! I don’t want to spoil too much, but I’ll give you a hint: it involves magic, a grand castle, and a school for young wizards and witches."

The group exchanged confused glances. Kinger, still fidgeting nervously with his floating hands, muttered, "A magical school? I don’t remember any schools being part of the circus…"

Pomni's heart raced as Caine continued to talk. Magic, a grand castle… It all sounded too familiar. She had just been reading about this. Hogwarts. Caine was talking about Hogwarts. But… why? And how did Caine even know about it?

As the others began bombarding Caine with questions—Zooble asking what "witches" had to do with anything, and Jax sarcastically wondering if they’d be riding broomsticks—Pomni stayed silent. A part of her felt excited. This was a chance to experience the world she had just glimpsed through the pages of the book. But another part of her was wary. Nothing in the Digital Circus was ever straightforward, and Caine’s adventures always came with unexpected twists.

"Now, now," Caine interrupted the flood of questions with a chuckle, raising his cane to quiet them down. "No spoilers, my dear friends! It’ll be much more fun if you experience it for yourselves!" With a dramatic flourish, he tapped his cane on the ground. "And now… without further ado… let the magic begin!"

Before anyone could react, the ground beneath them shimmered, and in an instant, the tent dissolved, replaced by the towering, majestic walls of a stone castle. The sky above them was a brilliant twilight, with the silhouette of a grand castle looming ahead, its turrets reaching toward the heavens.

Pomni’s breath caught in her throat. It was exactly as it had been described in the book. Hogwarts.

The other characters stood in stunned silence, staring up at the massive structure before them. None of them recognized it. Kinger was muttering something about an "impenetrable fortress," and Zooble was poking at the cobblestones beneath their feet in confusion.

Ragatha blinked, tilting her head. "Where are we? I’ve never seen anything like this before."

Jax crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Great, more spooky castles. Just what we needed."

Pomni remained quiet, her heart racing as she took it all in. She knew where they were. She recognized the grand entrance, the tall windows, the ancient stone that made up the castle walls. But why didn’t she say anything? Was it fear? Uncertainty? She wasn’t sure, but something held her back.

Caine appeared once again with his usual flourish, his grin wide and playful. "Welcome, my dear friends, to the magical world of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Now, don’t ask too many questions, just enjoy the experience!" He clapped his hands together, his excitement infectious.

Pomni's hands shook as she stared at the castle, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. This wasn’t just another one of Caine’s random games. Somehow, this place… this world, felt real.

As soon as Caine waved goodbye and vanished in a puff of digital sparkles, the group stood in silence, absorbing the sudden shift in their surroundings. The towering castle of Hogwarts loomed above them, casting long shadows across the cobblestone path.

Pomni, still stunned by the overwhelming reality of it all, couldn’t help but whisper to herself, “I can’t believe we’re at Hogwarts…”

Unfortunately for her, the whisper wasn’t as quiet as she thought. Ragatha, who had been standing closest to her, caught the words and turned toward her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Hogwarts? Pomni, what do you mean? Do you know what’s going on?"

Pomni hesitated, biting her lip. She hadn’t told anyone about the library, about the books, or about the strange encounter with Caine. But now, standing in front of the very castle she had read about, she realized she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. With a sigh, she glanced at the group, who were all looking at her expectantly—Zooble’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, Jax looking as bored as ever, Kinger muttering something about "other worlds."

“Well,” Pomni began, fidgeting with her hands. “Earlier, when I was looking around… I found this hidden room. A library. It wasn’t finished yet, but there were books—books I sort of remember from before I came here. One of them was about this place. Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” Zooble repeated, crossing their arms. “So, this is some kind of… wizard school?”

Pomni nodded. “Yeah. It’s a magical school for witches and wizards. There are different houses… like Gryffindor and Slytherin… I only know a little from what I read.”

Jax groaned, rolling his eyes. “Great. So we’re in some wizard fan fiction? Can’t wait to see how this ends.”

Before anyone could respond, the large wooden doors to the castle creaked open, and a tall woman with sharp features and a pointed hat stepped out, her robes billowing behind her. Pomni’s eyes widened as recognition hit her instantly—Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall paused when she saw them, her stern expression flickering with confusion as she looked over the motley crew standing before her. Pomni, in her jester outfit; Ragatha, a rag doll; Kinger, the floating chess piece; Zooble, the walking mix-and-match of toy parts; Jax, the mischievous rabbit; and Gangle, with her fragile ribbon body and mask. They were a sight unlike anything she had ever seen at Hogwarts.

"Well..." McGonagall began, her voice stiff with formality, though she recovered quickly. "This is quite... unusual. However, I have been informed of your... unique circumstances. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She gave them a polite nod, though her gaze lingered on them for a moment longer than normal.

Pomni could feel the eyes of the group on her again, as if expecting her to explain everything. She simply shrugged, looking down at her jester shoes. She didn’t know why or how any of this was happening, either.

McGonagall cleared her throat and turned toward the open doors. "Come with me. We mustn’t keep the Sorting Ceremony waiting."

As they followed McGonagall through the halls of Hogwarts, the familiar surroundings from the book came to life around Pomni. The grand stone corridors, the moving portraits, the flickering torches—it all matched perfectly with the descriptions she had read. Her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Ragatha, walking beside her, leaned over and whispered, “This place is incredible. But… are you sure we’re supposed to be here?”

“I don’t know,” Pomni admitted. “Caine said it’s just for a week, but… this feels so real.”

Zooble snorted from behind them. “Real or not, I hope there’s no ‘abstracting’ nonsense here.”

McGonagall's voice broke through their whispered conversation as she led them further into the castle. "Hogwarts is divided into four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own values and traditions. You will be sorted into one of these houses shortly. The house you belong to will be your family while you are here."

Pomni listened intently, her memories of the book flooding back. Even though the others were still confused, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. She knew what was about to happen. They were going to be sorted, just like Harry and the other students in the book. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

As they entered the Grand Hall, the vast space took Pomni’s breath away. The enchanted ceiling above them reflected the night sky, filled with twinkling stars, while hundreds of candles floated in midair. Four long tables stretched across the hall, filled with students dressed in black robes, all of whom turned to stare at the new arrivals.

Professor McGonagall led them to the front of the hall, where a group of nervous-looking first years were gathered, awaiting their sorting. The Digital Circus characters stood awkwardly among them, drawing wide-eyed stares and whispers from the young students.

Pomni felt the weight of the room’s gaze on her, but she didn’t say a word. This was Hogwarts. This was real . But she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that something—something important—was missing.

The Sorting Ceremony began, the enchanted Sorting Hat placed on the stool before the gathered first-year students. It sang its usual song, extolling the virtues of each house—Gryffindor for the brave, Ravenclaw for the wise, Hufflepuff for the loyal, and Slytherin for the cunning. The hall buzzed with whispers and side glances, particularly directed at the strange new arrivals. The Digital Circus characters stood out in every way, their unusual appearances drawing confused stares from all sides.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, the Sorting Ceremony proceeding as normal, with the first-year students taking their turns. After several names were called, it was time for the circus inhabitants to be sorted.

"Pomni," McGonagall called, her voice clear over the hall.

Pomni hesitated for a moment, feeling the eyes of the entire room on her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and approached the Sorting Hat. As it was placed on her head, she closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"Ah," the Hat murmured, its voice speaking inside her mind. "Curious. Very curious. There's a great deal of anxiety here… but also cleverness. A desire for answers, for knowledge. Yes, I know just where to put you..."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat shouted.

The Ravenclaw table clapped politely, though there were still uncertain glances exchanged between the students. Pomni, relieved but still nervous, walked to the Ravenclaw table and sat down. The students around her were clearly unsure how to interact with someone in a jester outfit.

Next was Ragatha.

"Ragatha!" McGonagall called.

Ragatha walked forward confidently, though she gave Pomni a quick, encouraging smile as she passed. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before it shouted:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Ragatha beamed and made her way to the Hufflepuff table, where the students clapped a little more warmly. Hufflepuff, known for its inclusivity, welcomed Ragatha without much hesitation, though a few of them did whisper behind their hands about her doll-like appearance.

"Kinger!" McGonagall called next.

Kinger floated forward, his lack of legs drawing curious looks from the students. The Hat took a little longer with Kinger, seeming to mull over the oddness of his mind, but finally, it shouted:

"RAVENCLAW!"

Kinger, looking slightly dazed as always, drifted over to the Ravenclaw table to join Pomni, mumbling something about needing to find a corner for an insect collection. The Ravenclaws were now clearly growing uncomfortable, having two of the strange circus characters sitting among them.

Next up was Jax.

"Jax!" McGonagall announced, her voice not hiding her own bemusement at the sight of the tall, purple rabbit. Jax swaggered up to the Sorting Hat, smirking as if the entire thing were a joke.

The Hat paused for only a moment before declaring, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into a mix of laughter and confused applause. Jax strutted over, clearly unfazed by the chuckling students. He shot a smug look at the laughing Slytherins, as if daring them to say something to his face.

Zooble was next.

"Zooble!" McGonagall’s voice was noticeably quieter this time.

Zooble clanked forward, their mismatched toy parts making soft mechanical noises as they moved. The Hat seemed perplexed for a moment before it eventually called out:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Zooble made their way over to the Slytherin table with a grumpy expression, already prepared for the worst. And indeed, the Slytherins didn’t hold back their laughter this time, openly mocking Zooble’s strange appearance. Zooble shot them a glare, their pink triangle head practically vibrating with irritation.

“Real mature,” Zooble muttered as they sat down next to Jax, who gave them an amused look but didn’t bother defending them.

Finally, it was Gangle's turn.

"Gangle!" McGonagall called, looking almost apologetic as the ribbon-like figure floated forward, clutching her comedy mask nervously.

The Hat took its time with Gangle before finally deciding, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Gangle gasped, her comedy mask lighting up with surprise. The Gryffindor table clapped, though the students were clearly bewildered by the figure joining their ranks. Gangle shyly floated over, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she settled into a seat.

As the ceremony concluded and the feast began, the other students around the Digital Circus characters whispered among themselves, casting uneasy glances toward the odd newcomers. It was clear that none of them knew what to make of these bizarre individuals, and the circus characters themselves felt just as out of place.

At the Ravenclaw table, Pomni whispered to Kinger, "This place… it’s just like the book. But why did Caine bring us here? It feels so real…"

Kinger, distracted as usual, simply muttered, “Perhaps it’s all a test. Or… maybe it’s an illusion. Can’t be too sure.”

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Jax leaned back in his seat, smirking as the students laughed around him. “At least I’m in a house where people have a sense of humor,” he said, glancing at Zooble.

Zooble rolled their eyes. “I swear, if I hear one more comment about my parts, I’m going to—"

“Yeah, yeah,” Jax cut in with a grin. “Relax. Just think of it as a game.”

Gangle, sitting nervously at the Gryffindor table, tried to focus on her food, but the stares from the other Gryffindors were too much. She shrank back, wishing she could just disappear.

Ragatha, on the other hand, seemed to be doing her best to fit in, chatting politely with the Hufflepuffs around her, though they still eyed her red yarn hair with suspicion.

Pomni glanced around the Great Hall, her anxiety rising again. This wasn’t how she imagined it. Hogwarts was supposed to be a place of magic and wonder, but all she felt now was more confusion. The reality of the Digital Circus lingered at the back of her mind, making everything feel off, as if this magical world could disappear at any moment.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Ragatha beamed and made her way to the Hufflepuff table, where the students clapped a little more warmly. Hufflepuff, known for its inclusivity, welcomed Ragatha without much hesitation, though a few of them did whisper behind their hands about her doll-like appearance.

"Kinger!" McGonagall called next.

Kinger floated forward, his lack of legs drawing curious looks from the students. The Hat took a little longer with Kinger, seeming to mull over the oddness of his mind, but finally, it shouted:

"RAVENCLAW!"

Kinger, looking slightly dazed as always, drifted over to the Ravenclaw table to join Pomni, mumbling something about needing to find a corner for an insect collection. The Ravenclaws were now clearly growing uncomfortable, having two of the strange circus characters sitting among them.

Next up was Jax.

"Jax!" McGonagall announced, her voice not hiding her own bemusement at the sight of the tall, purple rabbit. Jax swaggered up to the Sorting Hat, smirking as if the entire thing were a joke.

The Hat paused for only a moment before declaring, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into a mix of laughter and confused applause. Jax strutted over, clearly unfazed by the chuckling students. He shot a smug look at the laughing Slytherins, as if daring them to say something to his face.

Zooble was next.

"Zooble!" McGonagall’s voice was noticeably quieter this time.

Zooble clanked forward, their mismatched toy parts making soft mechanical noises as they moved. The Hat seemed perplexed for a moment before it eventually called out:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Zooble made their way over to the Slytherin table with a grumpy expression, already prepared for the worst. And indeed, the Slytherins didn’t hold back their laughter this time, openly mocking Zooble’s strange appearance. Zooble shot them a glare, their pink triangle head practically vibrating with irritation.

“Real mature,” Zooble muttered as they sat down next to Jax, who gave them an amused look but didn’t bother defending them.

Finally, it was Gangle's turn.

"Gangle!" McGonagall called, looking almost apologetic as the ribbon-like figure floated forward, clutching her comedy mask nervously.

The Hat took its time with Gangle before finally deciding, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Gangle gasped, her comedy mask lighting up with surprise. The Gryffindor table clapped, though the students were clearly bewildered by the figure joining their ranks. Gangle shyly floated over, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she settled into a seat.

As the ceremony concluded and the feast began, the other students around the Digital Circus characters whispered among themselves, casting uneasy glances toward the odd newcomers. It was clear that none of them knew what to make of these bizarre individuals, and the circus characters themselves felt just as out of place.

At the Ravenclaw table, Pomni whispered to Kinger, "This place… it’s just like the book. But why did Caine bring us here? It feels so real…"

Kinger, distracted as usual, simply muttered, “Perhaps it’s all a test. Or… maybe it’s an illusion. Can’t be too sure.”

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Jax leaned back in his seat, smirking as the students laughed around him. “At least I’m in a house where people have a sense of humor,” he said, glancing at Zooble.

Zooble rolled their eyes. “I swear, if I hear one more comment about my parts, I’m going to—"

“Yeah, yeah,” Jax cut in with a grin. “Relax. Just think of it as a game.”

Gangle, sitting nervously at the Gryffindor table, tried to focus on her food, but the stares from the other Gryffindors were too much. She shrank back, wishing she could just disappear.

Ragatha, on the other hand, seemed to be doing her best to fit in, chatting politely with the Hufflepuffs around her, though they still eyed her red yarn hair with suspicion.

Pomni glanced around the Great Hall, her anxiety rising again. This wasn’t how she imagined it. Hogwarts was supposed to be a place of magic and wonder, but all she felt now was more confusion. The reality of the Digital Circus lingered at the back of her mind, making everything feel off, as if this magical world could disappear at any moment.

The Great Hall was alive with the clatter of plates and the murmur of conversation as the Sorting Feast began. The tables overflowed with a spread of delicious food, from roast meats to vibrant salads, and every kind of dessert imaginable. It was a feast unlike anything the Digital Circus characters had ever seen, and yet, despite the enticing smells and flavors, an undercurrent of discomfort hung in the air.

At the Hufflepuff table, Ragatha tried her best to fit in. She picked up a piece of bread and smiled at the student sitting next to her, a round-faced boy who looked as though he might bolt at any moment.

“Hi there,” Ragatha began, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. “I’m Ragatha. What’s your name?”

The boy blinked at her, his eyes darting nervously between her and his plate. “Er, Neville,” he stammered, offering a weak smile. “Neville Longbottom.”

“Nice to meet you, Neville!” Ragatha said brightly. “So, what do you like about Hogwarts so far?”

Neville swallowed, clearly trying to be polite but unable to hide his discomfort. After all, it wasn’t every day that a sentient ragdoll tried to make conversation with you. “It’s… nice, I guess,” he mumbled. “I like Herbology…”

Ragatha nodded, but she could tell Neville wasn’t really comfortable. His eyes kept flicking to her yarn hair, and she could sense the curiosity mixed with unease. Ragatha sighed inwardly, trying not to let it bother her. She knew they were different—very different—but it still stung a little to be treated like some kind of oddity.

At the Ravenclaw table, Pomni and Kinger were having similar experiences. Pomni sat stiffly, nibbling on a piece of chicken, while the students around her tried their best to act natural. But she could feel their glances, the way they whispered behind their hands and shot her puzzled looks when they thought she wasn’t looking.

One girl, sitting across from Pomni, finally worked up the nerve to speak. “So… where are you from?” she asked, her tone trying to be casual but clearly strained.

Pomni hesitated, not sure how to answer that question. “It’s… complicated,” she said softly, looking down at her plate.

Kinger, sitting beside her, was fidgeting with his floating hands, clearly uncomfortable as well. The students around him were whispering even more audibly, clearly baffled by the sight of a living chess piece. “Do you think he’s some kind of enchanted object?” one student murmured to another, glancing at Kinger with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Kinger heard them and tried to focus on his food, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of being so out of place. He had been in the Digital Circus for so long that he was used to oddities, but this was different. This was a world where he was the oddity, and it was unsettling.

Over at the Gryffindor table, Gangle sat quietly, picking at her food. She could feel the stares, the curious glances, and the whispers that seemed to swirl around her like a thick fog. She kept her tragedy mask on, feeling too vulnerable to switch back to her comedy mask. The students around her were polite enough not to stare openly, but their discomfort was palpable.

But then, a voice broke through the tension. “Hi, I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”

Gangle looked up, her ribbon body stiffening slightly as she saw a boy with messy black hair and round glasses sitting across from her. His bright green eyes were filled with curiosity, but not the same kind she had seen in others—this was genuine interest.

“H-Hello,” Gangle stammered, her voice wavering slightly. “I’m… Gangle.”

Harry smiled, leaning in a little closer. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… made of ribbons?”

Gangle nodded, feeling a strange flutter in her chest. It wasn’t often that someone showed genuine interest in her without being scared or repelled. “Yes,” she replied quietly. “It’s… it’s just how I am.”

Harry seemed fascinated. “That’s really cool,” he said earnestly. “You must be really unique.”

Gangle felt her face heat up, though it wasn’t visible beneath her mask. “Th-thanks,” she mumbled, feeling those butterflies fluttering even more. Harry was cute, there was no denying that, but she couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t belong in the same space as him. Who would want to be friends, let alone anything more, with someone like her?

At the Slytherin table, things were much less subtle. Jax lounged back in his seat, munching on a turkey leg with a mischievous grin plastered on his face, while the students around him openly stared and snickered.

“Nice ears, bunny,” one boy sneered, leaning over with a smirk. “Did you escape from a petting zoo?”

Jax only grinned wider, clearly enjoying the attention. “At least I stand out,” he shot back, unfazed. “Unlike you lot, who all look like you came out of the same cookie cutter.”

The Slytherins around him burst into laughter, though it was clear they were laughing at Jax, not with him. But Jax didn’t care; he thrived on the chaos and was more than happy to play the role of the bizarre outsider if it meant he could mess with people.

Zooble, sitting a little further down the table, wasn’t having as much fun. They tried to ignore the whispers and mocking glances, focusing on their food instead. One girl sneered, nudging her friend and whispering loudly enough for Zooble to hear, “What even is that? It looks like someone put a bunch of junk together and called it a person.”

Zooble clenched their mismatched fists, trying not to let the words get to them. They had dealt with this kind of treatment before in the Digital Circus, but it didn’t make it any easier. Still, they kept their head down and focused on the feast, determined not to give the Slytherins the satisfaction of a reaction.

As the feast went on, the Digital Circus characters each struggled in their own way to navigate this strange new world. They were used to being out of place, but Hogwarts was a different kind of challenge. Here, they weren’t just oddities—they were outsiders in a world that didn’t quite know what to make of them.

But despite the stares, the whispers, and the awkwardness, there was a sense of resilience among them. They had survived the Digital Circus, and they would survive Hogwarts too, even if it meant standing out in ways that no one else could understand.

Chapter Text

The feast eventually drew to a close, and the students began to disperse, heading to their respective common rooms for the night. Pomni and Kinger, still feeling the weight of the stares and whispers, followed the other Ravenclaws through the winding corridors of Hogwarts. The castle seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, its stone walls lined with portraits that occasionally muttered to one another as they passed.

As they approached a large, arched door with a bronze eagle-shaped knocker, one of the older Ravenclaw students stepped forward to answer the riddle that served as the entrance to their common room. The knocker’s eyes gleamed as it asked, "What always runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a head but never weeps?"

"A river," the student answered confidently, and the door swung open, revealing the Ravenclaw common room.

Pomni and Kinger hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The room was beautiful, with tall windows offering a breathtaking view of the night sky, the stars twinkling against the velvet blackness. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes of every shape and size, and soft, blue-hued armchairs and sofas were arranged around a crackling fireplace.

Despite the cozy atmosphere, Pomni couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. As they entered, the room grew quiet, and several Ravenclaws glanced up from their books or conversations to stare at the new arrivals. The students’ eyes lingered on Kinger’s floating hands and Pomni’s brightly colored jester outfit, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

Kinger, sensing the attention, fidgeted nervously, his hands twitching as he floated slightly closer to Pomni. "I, um… I guess this is where we’ll be staying," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady.

Pomni nodded, forcing a small smile as she looked around. "It’s… nice," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. She could feel the stares, the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Why were they here? How did they fit into this world of magic and wonder?

One of the Ravenclaw students, a tall girl with long dark hair and a Prefect badge pinned to her robe, stepped forward, offering a tentative smile. "Welcome to Ravenclaw," she said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "I’m Cho Chang. If you need any help finding your way around, just let me know."

Pomni appreciated the kindness but could see that Cho, like the others, was struggling to understand who—or what—they were. "Thank you," she replied softly. "We’re… still getting used to everything."

Cho nodded, her eyes flicking briefly to Kinger before returning to Pomni. "I’m sure you’ll find your place here," she said, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

As Cho walked away to rejoin her friends, Pomni and Kinger found themselves standing awkwardly in the center of the room. The other students were still sneaking glances at them, some whispering quietly to each other, their curiosity barely hidden.

Pomni’s shoulders slumped slightly. She had hoped that after the feast, things might get easier, but it seemed that fitting in was going to be harder than she had thought. She glanced at Kinger, who was looking around the room with an uneasy expression, clearly feeling as out of place as she did.

A few students had gathered near one of the bookshelves, openly discussing them in hushed tones. Pomni caught snippets of their conversation—words like "jester," "chess piece," and "weird" floated through the air, making her stomach twist with anxiety.

Kinger floated over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, his hands hovering nervously as he settled in. "Maybe we should just keep to ourselves for now," he suggested, his voice low. "Until we figure out how to… fit in better."

Pomni nodded, though the idea of isolating themselves didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t want to be alone in this strange new world, but she also didn’t want to draw any more attention to their differences.

"Yeah, maybe you’re right," she agreed, taking a seat beside Kinger. She tried to focus on the warmth of the fire, hoping it would help calm her nerves. But the whispers and glances from the other students persisted, making it impossible to relax.

As the night wore on, most of the Ravenclaws returned to their dormitories, leaving the common room quiet and still. Pomni and Kinger stayed by the fire, neither of them eager to face the inevitable awkwardness that awaited them in the dorms. They didn’t know how much more of this they could take.

But they had no choice. For now, they were stuck in this world, with no clear way back to the Digital Circus. Pomni clenched her hands into fists, determined to make the best of it. They would figure out how to survive at Hogwarts, just as they had survived everything else. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a new kind of nightmare, one that even Caine hadn’t foreseen.

Ragatha walked slowly down the stone corridor that led to the Hufflepuff common room, her ragdoll feet making soft, shuffling sounds against the floor. The other Hufflepuff students, who had been chatting excitedly about the feast and their first day at Hogwarts, fell silent as they approached the entrance—a large stack of barrels arranged in a peculiar pattern. One of the older students tapped a specific sequence on the barrels, and with a soft, rumbling noise, the entrance swung open, revealing the cozy, earthy interior of the Hufflepuff common room.

Ragatha hesitated for a moment at the threshold, taking in the warm, welcoming space before her. The room was round and low-ceilinged, with walls lined with shelves of plants and bright, cheerful colors. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers and earth, and the soft crackle of a fire in the hearth added to the comfortable atmosphere. A few students were already lounging on the cushioned seats and beanbags scattered around the room, chatting quietly or reading by the fire.

But as Ragatha stepped inside, she could feel the mood shift. Conversations quieted, and heads turned to look at her, their eyes widening in surprise and confusion. After all, it wasn’t every day that a sentient, life-sized Raggedy Anne doll walked into the room.

Ragatha offered a small, nervous smile, trying to push down the unease bubbling up inside her. She had been through so much already in the Digital Circus, and she wasn’t about to let a few confused stares get to her. But still, it was hard not to feel out of place when everyone around her looked so… normal.

A group of students seated near the fireplace exchanged uncertain glances before one of them, a girl with curly blonde hair and a friendly, if slightly strained, smile, stood up and approached Ragatha. “Hi there,” she said, her voice bright but tinged with hesitation. “I’m Hannah. You must be one of the new students?”

Ragatha nodded, trying to maintain her cheerful demeanor. “Yep, that’s me. Ragatha. Nice to meet you, Hannah.”

Hannah’s smile faltered slightly as she took in Ragatha’s yarn hair and stitched features, but she quickly recovered. “Nice to meet you too, Ragatha,” she replied, though there was a slight edge of disbelief in her voice. “So, um, where are you from? I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before.”

Ragatha sighed inwardly, knowing this was going to be difficult to explain. “It’s kind of a long story,” she began, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “You see, my friends and I… we’re not exactly from around here. We were in this place called the Digital Circus. It’s a virtual world run by an AI ringmaster named Caine—he’s got dentures for a head, by the way—and he sort of… transported us here. To Hogwarts, I mean.”

As she spoke, Ragatha could see the disbelief growing on Hannah’s face, and the other students who had gathered nearby were exchanging puzzled, skeptical looks. Ragatha tried to continue, hoping to make some sense of it, but the story sounded ridiculous even to her ears.

“Anyway, that’s how we ended up here,” she finished lamely, glancing around at the other students. “I know it sounds crazy, but… well, that’s the truth.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Hannah and the others processed what Ragatha had just said. Finally, Hannah forced a polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Wow, that’s… quite a story,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “But, um, I’m sure you’ll find Hogwarts to be a great place. We’re all very friendly here in Hufflepuff.”

Another student, a boy with a kind face but an obvious air of discomfort, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re really welcoming,” he added, though his eyes kept darting to Ragatha’s stitched mouth and button eyes. “You’ll fit right in… eventually.”

Ragatha could sense the unease behind their words, the way they were trying so hard to be polite but clearly didn’t believe a word she was saying. It wasn’t their fault, she knew—they had no reason to believe such an outlandish story. But it still hurt to see the skepticism in their eyes, to feel like an outsider even in a place that was supposed to be welcoming.

“Thanks,” Ragatha said, her voice a little quieter now. “I appreciate it.”

Hannah nodded, clearly relieved that the conversation was winding down. “If you need anything, just let us know,” she offered, her tone more formal now. “We’re all here to help.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ragatha replied, forcing another smile. “Thanks, Hannah.”

With that, the small group of students began to disperse, returning to their previous activities, though Ragatha could still feel their curious glances lingering on her. She made her way to a corner of the common room, where a comfortable-looking armchair sat near a window overlooking the moonlit grounds. She sank into the chair, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling of isolation that was creeping into her chest.

She had tried to explain herself, to be honest and open, but it hadn’t worked. The students here didn’t understand—how could they? They lived in a world of magic, yes, but it was a different kind of magic than what she and her friends had experienced. To them, she was just a walking, talking doll with a bizarre story that didn’t make any sense.

Ragatha looked out the window, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the grounds of Hogwarts. She wondered how her friends were doing, whether they were having the same struggles she was. A part of her wanted to cry, but she knew that wouldn’t help. She had to be strong, for herself and for them.

As she sat there, the room slowly quieting as more students headed off to bed, Ragatha resolved to make the best of the situation. It was clear that fitting in was going to be a challenge, but she had faced challenges before in the Digital Circus. She wouldn’t let this one defeat her.

But deep down, she couldn’t help but wish for just one person who might believe her, who might see past her appearance and her strange story, and accept her for who she was. For now, though, all she could do was take it one step at a time and hope that eventually, she would find her place in this strange new world.

Jax and Zooble trudged down the dimly lit corridor toward the Slytherin common room, the walls adorned with green and silver tapestries depicting serpentine imagery. The atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with a sense of superiority and disdain that seemed to ooze from the very stones of the dungeon. Jax, however, was in high spirits, a wide grin plastered on his face as he sauntered ahead, his long ears bouncing with each step.

Zooble, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. They had already endured enough mocking and stares during the feast, and the prospect of facing a room full of Slytherins wasn’t exactly appealing. As they reached the entrance, a large stone door with the emblem of a serpent, Jax turned to Zooble with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

Zooble just sighed, not bothering to respond. They knew Jax was enjoying every second of this—he thrived on chaos and attention, even if it was negative. But Zooble just wanted to get through the night without any more incidents.

The door swung open with a low, creaking noise, and the two of them stepped inside the Slytherin common room. The space was dark and elegant, with greenish lamps casting an eerie glow over the black leather couches and ornate furniture. The large windows looked out into the depths of the lake, giving the room an almost otherworldly feel.

As soon as they entered, the students inside began to laugh—loud, mocking laughter that echoed off the stone walls. A few pointed and whispered, while others just openly stared, their expressions a mixture of amusement and derision.

“Look at that, a rabbit and a… what even is that?” one of the students snickered, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jax, far from being insulted, puffed out his chest and struck a pose, clearly enjoying the attention. “That’s right, get a good look!” he called out, his grin widening. “It’s not every day you see someone as fabulous as me.”

The laughter only grew louder, and Jax lapped it up, basking in the spotlight as if it were a standing ovation. He winked at a group of girls who were giggling behind their hands, causing them to burst into even more laughter.

Zooble, however, had had enough. They kept their head down, trying to ignore the jeers and snide comments that filled the room. They headed toward a corner, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and wait for the night to pass.

But just as they thought they might escape the worst of it, a voice called out, stopping them in their tracks. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Zooble turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who were snickering as they followed their leader. Draco wore his usual smirk, his pale eyes gleaming with malice as he looked Zooble up and down.

“I didn’t realize we were letting circus freaks into Hogwarts now,” Draco drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “What are you supposed to be? Some kind of broken toy?”

Zooble clenched their mismatched fists, trying to keep their temper in check. “Just leave me alone, Malfoy,” they muttered, turning away in the hopes that he would lose interest.

But Draco wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He stepped closer, his voice mocking as he continued to taunt them. “Oh, come on, don’t be shy,” he sneered. “Tell me, do you even have a proper brain in that head of yours? Or are you just a pile of junk someone glued together?”

Zooble could feel their anger rising, their body tense with frustration. They knew Draco was just trying to get a reaction, but the constant ridicule was wearing them down. They quickened their pace, trying to get away from him, but Draco wasn’t about to let his new source of entertainment slip away.

“Look at you, running away,” Draco called after them, his tone mocking. “What’s the matter? Did someone forget to wind you up this morning?”

That was the last straw. Zooble stopped in their tracks, their heart pounding in their chest. They turned on their heel, glaring at Draco with a fury that made the sneer falter on his lips. “I said, leave me alone!” Zooble shouted, their voice echoing through the common room.

The room fell silent, all eyes now on Zooble and Draco. The laughter died down, replaced by a tense, expectant hush as everyone waited to see what would happen next.

Draco recovered quickly, his smirk returning as he saw that he had hit a nerve. “Oh, look, the toy’s got some spirit,” he mocked, stepping closer to Zooble. “What are you going to do? Cry about it?”

Zooble’s vision blurred with anger, their patience completely gone. They didn’t even think—years of frustration and the constant feeling of being an outsider boiled over, and before they knew it, their fist was connecting with Draco’s face. The force of the punch sent Draco stumbling backward, his hand flying to his nose as blood began to trickle down.

Gasps filled the room, and the Slytherins who had been watching with amusement now looked shocked, their eyes wide with surprise. Crabbe and Goyle moved to step forward, but Draco waved them off, his face twisted with anger and disbelief.

“You… you’re going to pay for that,” Draco snarled, wiping the blood from his nose. “Do you know who I am? I’ll make sure you regret this.”

Zooble stood their ground, their chest heaving with rage. “I don’t care who you are,” they spat. “I’ve dealt with worse than you, Malfoy. So back off.”

The room was deadly quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Draco stared at Zooble for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he was deciding whether or not to retaliate. But before he could make a move, the door to the common room opened, and Professor Snape swept in, his robes billowing behind him.

“What is going on here?” Snape’s cold voice cut through the silence like a knife, and the students immediately stepped back, fear evident in their expressions.

Zooble’s heart dropped. They knew they were in trouble now, and from the look on Draco’s face, he was going to make sure they paid for it. Snape’s dark eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before him—Zooble standing with clenched fists, Draco with a bloody nose, and the circle of students who had been watching the confrontation.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said, his voice low and dangerous. “What happened?”

Draco’s smirk returned, though it was more calculated now, playing the victim. “This… thing attacked me, Professor,” he said, pointing at Zooble. “For no reason.”

Zooble opened their mouth to protest, but Snape’s cold gaze silenced them. “Enough,” he snapped. “Both of you, follow me. We will discuss this in my office.”

As Snape turned to lead them out of the common room, Zooble cast a glance around, looking for Jax. But Jax was nowhere to be seen, having slipped out of the room at some point during the confrontation. Zooble felt a pang of betrayal—Jax had been right there, enjoying the chaos, but when things got serious, he had vanished.

With a heavy heart and a sense of impending doom, Zooble followed Snape and Draco out of the common room, the whispers of the other students following them like a dark cloud. They didn’t know what punishment awaited them, but one thing was clear: Hogwarts was proving to be just as hostile as the Digital Circus, if not more so. And now, they were truly alone in facing it.

As Gangle approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, she felt her nerves flare up again. The day had already been overwhelming, and now, she was about to face a room full of students who had never seen anyone like her before. But she pushed those feelings down, reminding herself that she had already survived so much in the Digital Circus. She could handle this.

The Fat Lady looked down at her with an arched eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Gangle’s ribbon body and the mask that served as her face. “Password?” the Fat Lady asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Fortuna Major,” Gangle replied, her voice soft and a little shaky.

The portrait swung open, revealing the warm glow of the Gryffindor common room. Gangle hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her ribbons brushing against the stone walls as she moved. The room was as cozy and welcoming as she had imagined, with plush armchairs gathered around a roaring fire, and students chatting and laughing as they relaxed after the feast.

As she entered, however, the room quieted slightly. The students turned to look at her, their eyes widening in surprise and confusion. Gangle felt her heart race, but before she could feel too overwhelmed, a familiar voice greeted her.

“Gangle!” Harry Potter called out, standing up from a seat near the fire. He had a warm, genuine smile on his face, and he walked over to her without hesitation. “I’m glad to see you made it.”

Gangle felt her cheeks heat up beneath her mask, and she instinctively tried to hide her blushing face with her ribbon arms. “H-Hi, Harry,” she stammered, her voice a little breathless. She was flustered by his attention, but also relieved to see a friendly face among the sea of curious stares.

Harry seemed to notice her discomfort and gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on, why don’t you sit with me?” he offered, gesturing to the spot he had just vacated near the fireplace. “We can talk if you want.”

Gangle nodded, grateful for the invitation. As she followed Harry to the armchairs, she could still feel the other students’ eyes on her, their confusion clear. But with Harry by her side, it didn’t seem to bother her as much.

Once they were seated, Harry looked at her with interest. “So, how are you finding Hogwarts so far?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Gangle hesitated, unsure of how to begin. But something about Harry’s open expression made her feel like she could trust him. “It’s… a lot to take in,” she admitted. “But honestly, I don’t really feel like I belong here. It’s all so… strange.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his green eyes sympathetic. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, Gangle began to explain. “I wasn’t always like this,” she said, gesturing to her ribbon body and mask. “I used to be human, but then I put on this VR headset and got trapped in a virtual world called the Amazing Digital Circus. When I entered the Circus, I… I lost my old body and my name. I had to come up with a new one: Gangle.”

Harry listened intently, not interrupting her as she spoke. Gangle could tell he was taking her seriously, which made it easier to continue.

“There’s this AI ringmaster named Caine,” Gangle went on, her voice trembling slightly. “He controls everything in the Circus, and he’s the one who sent my friends and me here to Hogwarts. But I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to adjust, but… I just don’t fit in. Everyone looks at me like I’m some kind of freak.”

Harry’s expression softened even more. “I believe you, Gangle,” he said quietly. “And I know what it’s like not to fit in.”

Gangle looked at him in surprise. “You do?”

Harry nodded, then lifted his fringe slightly to reveal the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. “You see this scar?” he asked. “It’s from when I was a baby. An evil wizard named Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me too. But somehow, I survived, and now everyone calls me ‘the Boy Who Lived.’”

Gangle felt a pang of sympathy for Harry. “That must have been awful,” she murmured. “Who is Voldemort?”

Harry sighed, his expression growing more serious. “I don’t know much about him,” he admitted. “Just that he’s evil and incredibly powerful. He went to Hogwarts too, and he was in Slytherin. But no one really talks about him much. It’s like he’s a shadow that hangs over everything.”

Gangle nodded slowly, trying to process everything Harry had told her. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot,” she said softly. “I guess we both know what it’s like to be… different.”

Harry smiled at her, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we do,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find our place here. It might take some time, but I think you’ll find that people in Gryffindor are pretty accepting once they get to know you.”

Gangle felt a flicker of hope at his words. “You really think so?”

Harry nodded confidently. “Definitely. And I’ll help you however I can.”

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Gangle felt a genuine sense of relief. She still had a lot to figure out, but knowing that Harry believed her and was willing to be her friend made the challenges ahead seem a little less daunting.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said sincerely, her voice filled with gratitude. “That means a lot to me.”

“Anytime,” Harry replied with a smile. “We’ll get through this together, Gangle.”

As they continued to talk, the other Gryffindor students gradually went back to their own conversations, the initial confusion about Gangle’s appearance fading as they saw how comfortable Harry was with her. Gangle still felt the occasional curious glance, but it didn’t bother her as much anymore. She wasn’t alone in this strange new world, and that made all the difference.

Harry and Gangle talked late into the evening, sharing stories and learning more about each other’s worlds. By the time they finally decided to head to bed, Gangle felt a lot more at ease. She might still be a long way from feeling like she belonged at Hogwarts, but for the first time, she had hope that she might get there eventually—with a little help from her new friend.

Draco Malfoy followed closely behind Professor Snape, his mind still reeling from the unexpected confrontation with Zooble. His nose throbbed from the punch, and he was seething with anger. How dare that strange, mismatched creature lay a hand on him? Malfoy was determined to make Zooble pay for that, and he knew Snape would back him up—after all, Snape favored Slytherins, and Malfoy was one of his favorites.

Zooble, meanwhile, walked silently beside Snape, their mismatched body stiff with tension. They had no idea what kind of punishment awaited them, but they were certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. The cold, dark halls of Hogwarts seemed to close in around them, the echoes of their footsteps magnified in the empty corridors.

As they passed by the Hufflepuff towers, Malfoy’s sharp eyes caught sight of something unusual. There, ascending the stairs to the Hufflepuff common room, was Jax. The tall, purple rabbit was grinning from ear to ear, his long ears bouncing with each step. He carried a large cardboard box in his arms, and Malfoy’s curiosity was piqued.

“What’s that idiot up to now?” Malfoy muttered under his breath, slowing his pace slightly to get a better look.

The box Jax carried looked heavy, and as Malfoy squinted, he could just make out the dark, writhing shapes inside. His eyes widened in surprise and confusion as he realized what they were—centipedes. The box was filled to the brim with the disgusting, multi-legged creatures, their shiny bodies squirming and twisting over each other in a sickening mass.

Malfoy couldn’t help but feel a mixture of horror and intrigue. Jax was clearly up to no good, but Malfoy had no idea what the rabbit could possibly be planning. Still, he made a mental note to keep an eye on him. Whatever Jax was up to, it was bound to cause chaos—and Malfoy liked chaos, as long as he wasn’t on the receiving end.

But for now, Malfoy had other matters to attend to. He turned his attention back to Snape, who had led them to his office, the door creaking open as they approached. Malfoy shot one last glance up the Hufflepuff tower, wondering what Jax’s plan could be, before following Snape and Zooble inside.

---

Meanwhile, in the Hufflepuff common room, the fire had died down to a soft glow, and the dormitories were filled with the sound of quiet, peaceful breathing as the students slept soundly in their beds. All was calm—except for Jax, who was up to his usual mischief.

With the same wide grin plastered on his face, Jax crept through the common room and up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, the box of centipedes held carefully in his arms. He moved with the light, stealthy steps of someone who had pulled off pranks like this many times before. The thrill of causing chaos made his heart race with excitement.

Jax knew exactly which bed belonged to Ragatha. He had overheard her once, during one of their many days trapped in the Digital Circus, talking about her worst fear—centipedes. She had described them in such vivid, terrified detail that Jax couldn’t resist using that information against her. Now, with this perfect opportunity handed to him, he was practically giddy with anticipation.

He reached Ragatha’s bed and carefully set the box down on the floor beside it. The room was dark, the only light coming from the sliver of moonlight that filtered in through the window. Jax could see Ragatha’s form, curled up peacefully under the covers, her yarn hair spread out on the pillow. He suppressed a snicker as he imagined her reaction when she woke up to find her bed infested with centipedes.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Jax lifted the lid of the box. The centipedes inside seemed to sense their impending freedom, their many legs writhing in a frenzy of movement. Jax carefully tilted the box, letting the first few centipedes crawl out onto Ragatha’s bedspread. He watched in delight as they began to spread out, their long, segmented bodies exploring the soft fabric.

One by one, more centipedes joined the first, their tiny feet making soft, almost inaudible sounds as they moved. Jax was careful not to let the box touch the bed, so there wouldn’t be any noise to wake her up—at least not yet.

Finally, the box was empty, and Jax stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Ragatha’s bed was now crawling with centipedes, the creatures moving in every direction, some even disappearing under the covers where Ragatha lay asleep. The sight filled Jax with a twisted sense of satisfaction. This was going to be one of his best pranks yet.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jax slipped out of the dormitory, making sure to close the door silently behind him. He hurried back down the stairs, his heart racing with the anticipation of what was to come. Tomorrow morning was going to be an event to remember.

As he made his way back to the Slytherin common room, Jax’s mind was already racing with thoughts of what other mischief he could get up to next. But for now, he was content. The morning was bound to be filled with screams and chaos—and Jax wouldn’t miss it for the world.

The atmosphere in Snape's office was as cold and foreboding as the man himself. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls lined with shelves of potions ingredients, jars filled with mysterious substances, and ancient, dusty tomes. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and something more acrid, like sulfur. Zooble stood stiffly in the center of the room, their patchwork body tense with a mix of fear and frustration, while Draco Malfoy leaned against Snape’s desk, his hand still cradling his nose, a smirk of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Snape, his dark robes billowing slightly as he moved, circled Zooble with a critical eye, his expression unreadable. His presence was intimidating, the very air around him seemed to crackle with restrained power. He finally came to a stop in front of them, his cold, black eyes locking onto Zooble's.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Snape’s voice was low, silky, but there was an edge to it that made the hairs on the back of Zooble’s neck stand on end.

Zooble clenched their mismatched fists, trying to keep their voice steady. "He wouldn’t leave me alone," they said, their voice carrying a tremor of barely contained anger. "I asked him to stop, but he kept pushing, kept mocking me. I… I just snapped."

Snape’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting briefly to Malfoy, who immediately straightened, attempting to look as innocent as possible. "Is that true, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, his tone now laced with suspicion.

Draco sniffed, wincing slightly as he did so, clearly playing up his injury. "Professor, all I did was ask Zooble a few questions," he said, his voice smooth and dripping with false sincerity. "They overreacted and punched me for no reason. I was only trying to be friendly."

Snape’s expression didn’t change, but there was a subtle tightening of his jaw that suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. He looked back at Zooble, his gaze sharp and penetrating. "Violence is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Zooble," he said coldly. "Regardless of the provocation."

Zooble felt a surge of frustration. They knew how this looked—a new student, strange and unfamiliar, attacking one of the most well-known and influential students in Slytherin. The odds were stacked against them from the start. But they also knew that Malfoy was lying through his teeth, and it made their blood boil.

"He was mocking me, Professor," Zooble insisted, their voice growing more desperate. "He wouldn’t stop, and I just… I couldn’t take it anymore."

Snape raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to Malfoy once more. "Mr. Malfoy," he said slowly, "while you claim to have been merely ‘friendly,’ I am well aware of your history of instigating conflict. Do not think for a moment that your name or your family’s influence will protect you if I find you at fault."

Draco’s smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "Of course, Professor," he replied smoothly. "I would never dream of causing trouble."

Snape’s eyes lingered on Malfoy for a moment longer before he turned back to Zooble. "As for you," he said, his tone icy, "while I am inclined to believe that Mr. Malfoy provoked you, that does not excuse your actions. Physical altercations are not the answer, and as a student at Hogwarts, you are expected to conduct yourself with dignity and restraint."

Zooble swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "I understand, Professor," they muttered, though the anger still simmered beneath their calm exterior.

Snape stared at them for a long moment, as if weighing his options. "Your punishment will be detention," he finally said, his voice firm. "You will spend the next week assisting Filch with cleaning duties around the castle. Perhaps some time spent in reflection will teach you the value of self-control."

Zooble felt a wave of relief wash over them—detention was bad, but it could have been much worse. They nodded again, this time more earnestly. "Yes, Professor. I’ll do better."

Snape turned his gaze to Malfoy, who was still trying to look as innocent as possible. "And you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, his voice lowering dangerously, "I will be watching you closely. If I hear of any more incidents involving you and Zooble, there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco’s face paled slightly, but he nodded quickly. "Yes, Professor," he said, the arrogance in his voice now subdued.

Snape regarded the two of them for another moment before waving a hand dismissively. "You are both dismissed," he said curtly. "Return to your dormitories and do not make me regret showing leniency."

Zooble turned to leave, their shoulders slumping with exhaustion and a lingering sense of injustice. As they walked past Malfoy, they couldn’t resist shooting him a glare, but Draco only smirked at them, his eyes glinting with malice. It was clear that this wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

As Zooble made their way out of the office and into the darkened corridors of Hogwarts, their thoughts were a whirlwind of frustration and anger. The encounter with Malfoy had shaken them more than they wanted to admit, and the idea of facing him again filled them with dread.

But for now, they had to focus on getting through the night. The castle felt colder, more oppressive, as they navigated the winding halls back to the Slytherin dormitory. And as they walked, a part of them couldn’t shake the feeling that their time at Hogwarts was going to be far more difficult than they had ever anticipated.

In the dim, flickering light of the castle, Zooble knew one thing for sure: they had to find a way to survive in this strange, dangerous place. But with enemies like Malfoy around every corner, survival was going to be anything but easy.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered softly through the windows of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, casting a warm glow over the sleeping forms tucked into their beds. Harry Potter slowly stirred awake, stretching out his limbs as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. But as he began to shift, he felt something unusual—something soft and slightly constricting wrapped around his torso.

His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly glanced down to find a tangle of red ribbons coiled around him, holding him gently but firmly. His eyes widened in shock as he followed the ribbons up to their source: Gangle, who was snuggled up against him, her masked face resting on his chest.

For a moment, Harry was too stunned to move. Gangle was supposed to be in the girls’ dormitory—what on earth was she doing here? And how had she ended up in his bed, of all places?

His sudden movement must have disturbed Gangle because she began to stir, her ribbons tightening slightly before she slowly opened her eyes. The moment she realized where she was—and more importantly, who she was snuggling—her body went rigid with shock.

“Oh! Oh no!” Gangle gasped, her voice muffled slightly by her mask as she quickly unwrapped her ribbons from around Harry and scrambled to sit up. “I’m so sorry, Harry! I—I didn’t mean to… I must have… oh no…”

Harry sat up as well, still processing what had just happened. He could see the panic in Gangle’s eyes—or rather, the way her ribbons twitched nervously—and he tried to give her a reassuring smile, though he was still feeling a bit awkward himself. “It’s okay, Gangle,” he said, trying to calm her down. “But… how did you get here?”

Gangle’s ribbon arms fluttered in embarrassment, wrapping around herself as if she could somehow hide from the situation. “I… I have this bad habit of sleepwalking,” she admitted, her voice small and filled with guilt. “Sometimes I just… wander around without knowing where I’m going. I must’ve… I must’ve walked right into your dormitory in my sleep! I’m so sorry, Harry!”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit flustered but also understanding. “Well, it’s not your fault,” he said, trying to make her feel better. “It happens, I guess. But maybe we should, um, get you back to your dorm before anyone else wakes up?”

Gangle nodded quickly, her ribbons trembling with anxiety. “Yes, yes, you’re right,” she stammered, clearly eager to escape the situation before it became any more awkward. She stood up, wobbling slightly on her ribbon legs, and hurried toward the door.

Harry watched her go, feeling a strange mix of relief and sympathy. He knew how out of place Gangle felt at Hogwarts—he’d seen it in her eyes when they talked the night before. And now, this was just one more thing to make her feel even more uncomfortable. But he didn’t want her to think he was upset or angry with her, so as she reached the door, he called out softly, “Gangle, it’s really okay. Don’t worry about it, alright?”

Gangle paused, turning back to look at him. Though her mask didn’t show any expression, Harry could sense the gratitude in her posture. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered. “You’re very kind.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, her ribbons trailing behind her. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, feeling the last remnants of sleep leaving him. What a way to start the morning.

But the awkwardness wasn’t quite over yet. As Harry got dressed and headed down to the common room to prepare for the day, he couldn’t help but think about how he and Gangle had the same first class that morning—Defense Against the Dark Arts. He hoped that things wouldn’t be too uncomfortable between them, but he wasn’t sure how Gangle would feel after what had happened.

When he reached the common room, he found a few Gryffindors already up and getting ready for the day. He didn’t see Gangle anywhere, which wasn’t surprising—she had probably rushed off to avoid any more awkward encounters. Harry couldn’t blame her.

As he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he wondered how the day would go. Gangle was still getting used to life at Hogwarts, and with the added embarrassment of this morning, he hoped she wouldn’t retreat too much into herself. She needed friends, especially now, and Harry was determined to help her feel more comfortable, even if it meant navigating through a few awkward moments.

When he finally spotted Gangle at breakfast, sitting alone at the Gryffindor table and fidgeting with her ribbons, he made his way over to her, offering her a warm smile as he sat down. “Ready for class?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Gangle looked up at him, her ribbons tightening around her arms. “I… I think so,” she replied hesitantly. “I’m still a bit nervous, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, trying to reassure her. “You’ll do fine. And hey, we’re in this together, right?”

Gangle’s ribbons relaxed slightly, and she nodded, a small sense of relief washing over her. “Right,” she said, her voice a bit stronger now. “Together.”

As they headed to Defense Against the Dark Arts together, the awkwardness of the morning began to fade, replaced by the shared determination to face the challenges ahead. Whatever else Hogwarts had in store for them, at least they knew they had each other’s backs. And in a place as strange and unpredictable as Hogwarts, that made all the difference.

The classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts was filled with the typical tension that came whenever Gryffindor and Slytherin shared a class. The two houses had always been rivals, and today was no different. The students filed in, taking their seats with wary glances at each other. Gangle and Harry sat together near the middle of the room, with Gangle nervously fidgeting with the ends of her ribbons as they waited for the lesson to begin.

Harry couldn’t help but notice how out of place Gangle seemed, her ribbon body and mask making her stand out among the other students. Despite the strangeness of her appearance, there was something endearing about her—something that tugged at Harry’s heart. He quickly shook off the feeling, reminding himself that Gangle needed a friend right now, not someone developing a crush on her. She was already dealing with so much, and the last thing she needed was him complicating things.

As the class started, the professor—a stern-looking witch named Professor Sinistra who was filling in for the regular teacher—began to lecture on the various defensive spells they would be practicing that day. Harry tried to focus on the lesson, but his attention kept drifting to Gangle, who was diligently taking notes despite her nervousness. He could tell she was trying hard to fit in, and it made him admire her even more.

But not everyone in the class was as supportive.

Jax, who had taken a seat with the other Slytherins at the back of the room, was already plotting his next prank. The success of his centipede stunt last night had filled him with a mischievous energy, and he was itching for more chaos. His eyes landed on Gangle, sitting there so innocently, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

As Professor Sinistra turned her back to write something on the blackboard, Jax made his move. He pulled out his wand, murmuring a spell under his breath, and aimed it at Gangle’s chair. A small jolt of magic shot out, just enough to make the chair wobble and tilt forward.

Gangle, caught completely off guard, let out a small gasp as her chair lurched beneath her. She tried to catch herself, but her ribbons tangled in the desk, and she tumbled forward, her mask slipping off her face and clattering to the floor. The fragile comedy mask cracked right down the middle, splitting in two.

For a moment, the room was silent, as if time itself had paused. Then Gangle, now wearing her tragedy mask, began to cry. Her soft, mournful sobs filled the room, echoing off the stone walls. The Slytherins, sensing an opportunity, burst into laughter, their cruel voices rising in unison as they mocked her.

“Look at that! The doll’s gone and broken her funny face!” one of them jeered.

“Maybe she should get a mask that’s not so fragile!” another snickered.

Even though Draco Malfoy was sitting among the Slytherins, he didn’t join in the laughter. His face remained impassive, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t want to give Jax the satisfaction of his approval, but deep down, he found the prank amusing. As did the rest of the Slytherins, who were starting to view Jax with a growing respect. After all, anyone who could pull off a prank that had the whole castle buzzing—like the one with Ragatha last night—was worth keeping an eye on.

But while the Slytherins reveled in their cruelty, Harry felt a surge of anger rising within him. Seeing Gangle on the floor, her ribbons trembling as she wept, made his blood boil. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor, and marched over to where Jax was lounging with a smug grin on his face.

“That’s enough!” Harry snapped, his voice hard and full of fury. He stood between Gangle and Jax, his green eyes blazing with anger. “Leave her alone, Jax. What’s your problem, huh? You think it’s funny to pick on someone who’s just trying to fit in?”

Jax’s grin didn’t falter. In fact, it only grew wider as he looked up at Harry, clearly unfazed by the confrontation. “What’s the matter, Potter? Can’t take a joke?” he sneered, leaning back in his chair with an air of exaggerated nonchalance. “I was just having a little fun. No need to get your wand in a knot.”

“This isn’t fun,” Harry shot back, his fists clenched at his sides. “It’s cruel, and it needs to stop. Now.”

Gangle, still on the floor, looked up at Harry with wide, tear-filled eyes. Despite the sadness that engulfed her, there was a glimmer of something else in her gaze—something like awe. To her, Harry standing up for her like this felt almost surreal, like something out of a storybook. For a brief moment, she saw him not just as a friend, but as a valiant knight defending her from a heartless foe. Butterflies swirled in her stomach, and she found herself both grateful and overwhelmed by his kindness.

Jax’s grin finally faltered, his eyes narrowing as he stood up to face Harry. The air between them crackled with tension, and it looked like a fight was about to break out right there in the middle of the classroom. The other students watched with bated breath, waiting to see who would make the first move.

But before anything could happen, Professor Sinistra turned around, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her. “Mr. Potter! Mr. Jax!” she barked, her voice sharp and commanding. “What is the meaning of this? Sit down at once, both of you!”

Reluctantly, Harry backed down, though he kept his glare fixed on Jax as he returned to his seat. Jax, for his part, let out a soft chuckle and shrugged, as if the whole thing had been no big deal. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps irritation that he hadn’t been able to push Harry further.

Gangle, still shaken, slowly picked herself up off the floor, clutching the broken pieces of her comedy mask in her ribbon hands. Harry knelt beside her, offering a gentle hand to help her up. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his anger melting away into concern.

Gangle nodded weakly, though her sadness was still palpable. “I… I’ll be fine,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “Thank you, Harry.”

As they returned to their seats, the room gradually settled back into an uneasy quiet. But the tension still lingered, and Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time he’d have to stand up to Jax. Meanwhile, Gangle sat beside him, her heart still fluttering with a confusing mix of emotions—fear, gratitude, and something else she couldn’t quite place.

Despite the awkward start to the day, one thing was clear: Harry was determined to protect his new friend, no matter what. And Gangle, for her part, felt a little less alone in this strange new world, even if she wasn’t sure what to make of the feelings that were starting to blossom within her.

As the lesson resumed, Gangle found it hard to focus on the words of the professor, her thoughts drifting back to the moment Harry had stood up for her. Despite the tears, despite the broken mask, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as out of place here as she had feared.

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the Charms classroom as the students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff filed in, their anticipation palpable. It was their first Charms lesson at Hogwarts, and excitement buzzed in the air as they settled into their seats. The room was bright and filled with rows of desks, each set with a small feather, which the students would soon be using to practice their first charm.

Professor Flitwick, a tiny, energetic wizard who had to stand on a stack of books to see over his desk, welcomed the class with a wide smile. “Good morning, everyone! Today, we’ll be starting with one of the most basic and essential spells in your magical education—the Levitation Charm, or Wingardium Leviosa. Now, this charm might seem simple, but it requires concentration, precise wand movements, and the right incantation. So, let’s get started, shall we?”

Pomni and Kinger sat together near the front of the room, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and determination. They had been nervous about fitting in, especially after the strange events of their first night at Hogwarts, but now, in the classroom setting, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was something they could excel at—something that could help them find their place among their peers.

As Professor Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement and pronunciation, Pomni and Kinger watched intently, their focus unwavering. The professor’s tiny voice filled the room as he explained, “Remember, it’s Wing-GAR-dium Levi-O-sa, with a swish and flick of the wand.”

When it was time to practice, Pomni and Kinger were among the first to try. Pomni took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped her wand. She carefully mimicked the professor’s movements, enunciating the words with precision. “Wingardium Leviosa!” she said, her voice steady and confident.

To her delight, the feather in front of her lifted off the desk, hovering a few inches above the surface. Pomni’s eyes widened in surprise and joy as she successfully held the charm, the feather floating gracefully in the air. A few of the Ravenclaw students around her gasped in admiration.

Kinger, meanwhile, had his floating hands perform the charm, his wand held firmly in one of them. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he echoed, his voice carrying a hint of the confidence he had once known before the Digital Circus. His feather, too, rose into the air, hovering steadily alongside Pomni’s.

The Ravenclaw students, who had initially been unsure of what to make of the odd pair, began to take notice. Their whispers were no longer filled with confusion or skepticism but with genuine respect. “They’re really good,” one student murmured to another. “I didn’t expect them to pick it up so quickly.”

Another student nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they’re definitely smart. Maybe they really do belong in Ravenclaw after all.”

Pomni and Kinger exchanged glances, their eyes lighting up with a shared sense of accomplishment. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, they felt like they were truly fitting in—like they were being seen for who they were, rather than just for their unusual appearances.

Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff tables, Ragatha was also having a successful time with the charm. With a warm smile, she carefully followed Professor Flitwick’s instructions, her wand moving with graceful precision. “Wingardium Leviosa!” she said, and the feather in front of her lifted into the air with ease, floating gently as she guided it with her wand.

Her success drew a few admiring looks from her fellow Hufflepuffs, but Ragatha’s attention was soon caught by someone who wasn’t having such an easy time. Just a few seats down, Neville Longbottom was struggling, his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried and failed to lift his feather. “Wingardium Leviosa,” he muttered, his voice filled with frustration as the feather stubbornly remained on the desk.

Ragatha’s empathetic heart went out to him immediately. She had always been the kind of person—now doll—who wanted to help others, and seeing Neville’s struggle tugged at her. She gently placed her feather back on the desk and stood up, making her way over to where Neville was sitting.

As she approached, Neville looked up, his eyes widening in surprise and a bit of nervousness. He had seen Ragatha around and had heard some of the other students talk about her, but he hadn’t had much interaction with her yet. Seeing her walk toward him, with her stitched smile and yarn hair, made him a little uneasy, though he didn’t want to seem rude.

“Hi, Neville,” Ragatha said kindly, her voice soft and reassuring. “I noticed you’re having a bit of trouble with the charm. Do you want some help?”

Neville hesitated, glancing around as if unsure whether he should accept help from someone who looked so… unusual. But then he saw the genuine kindness in Ragatha’s button eyes, and the anxiety in his chest eased slightly. “Um, sure,” he said, his voice still uncertain. “I’m just… I’m not very good at this.”

“That’s okay,” Ragatha said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Everyone has trouble with new things sometimes. Let’s go over it together, alright?”

Neville nodded, feeling a bit more at ease as Ragatha patiently guided him through the movements again. She showed him how to hold his wand just right, and how to say the incantation with the proper emphasis. Her gentle and patient demeanor made it easier for Neville to focus, and he found himself starting to feel a bit more confident.

“Now, try it again,” Ragatha said, stepping back slightly to give him space.

Neville took a deep breath, concentrating hard as he repeated the spell. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

This time, to his amazement, the feather on his desk gave a little twitch before slowly rising into the air, wobbling slightly but hovering nonetheless. Neville’s eyes widened in surprise, a bright smile spreading across his face as he realized he had done it.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy and relief.

Ragatha clapped her hands together, beaming with pride. “You did! That was great, Neville! See? You’re better at this than you thought.”

Neville’s smile faltered a bit as he looked up at her, a mixture of gratitude and confusion in his eyes. “Thanks, Ragatha,” he said slowly. “I, uh, wasn’t sure about you at first… I mean, you’re a… well, you’re a doll, and that’s a bit… different. But you’re really nice.”

Ragatha’s stitched smile softened, and she nodded understandingly. “I know I’m different,” she said gently. “But I’m still just me. And I’m really glad I could help you.”

Neville nodded, his nervousness fading as he realized that Ragatha was, indeed, just like any other person—kind, patient, and understanding. “I’m glad you did too,” he said, his voice more confident now. “Maybe we can practice together sometime?”

“I’d like that,” Ragatha replied warmly.

As the class continued, the atmosphere in the room grew more relaxed. Pomni and Kinger continued to impress their Ravenclaw peers, who were beginning to see them as valuable members of their house, rather than just oddities. And as for Ragatha, she and Neville worked together for the rest of the lesson, forming a tentative but genuine friendship.

By the end of the class, it was clear that the students were starting to see beyond the initial strangeness of Pomni, Kinger, and Ragatha. They were beginning to recognize the intelligence, kindness, and potential that lay beneath their unusual appearances. And for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, the three friends felt a little more at home, knowing that they were slowly but surely finding their place in this magical world.

As the evening shadows deepened, Harry Potter made his way back to the Gryffindor common room, his thoughts wandering back to the events of the day. It had been a whirlwind of emotions, from his confrontation with Jax in Defense Against the Dark Arts to his growing sense of responsibility toward his new friend, Gangle. As he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, he muttered the password, and the portrait swung open, revealing the warm glow of the common room beyond.

Harry stepped inside, expecting to find the usual scene of students chatting by the fire or finishing up homework. But as he entered, he immediately noticed Gangle sitting on one of the plush armchairs, her ribbon arms wrapped around herself in a nervous tangle. She looked up as he walked in, her masked face unreadable, but Harry could sense her anxiety. It was clear she had been waiting for him.

“Gangle?” Harry said softly, approaching her with a concerned look. “Is everything okay?”

Gangle fidgeted with her ribbons, her body language tense and uncertain. “Harry… I… I’ve been thinking all day,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “And there’s something I need to tell you. I’m just… so scared to say it.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, a mix of concern and curiosity washing over him. He crouched down in front of her, trying to catch her gaze despite the mask. “You can tell me anything, Gangle. You know that, right?”

Gangle hesitated, her ribbons twisting around each other in a nervous knot. Finally, she took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Harry… I think… no, I know… that I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, everything seemed to go still. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even considered that Gangle might feel this way about him. But as the shock faded, it was replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. Gangle, with all her quirks and kindness, had somehow wormed her way into his heart, and now she was confessing her love to him.

“Gangle…” Harry started, his voice soft but filled with emotion. He reached out, gently taking one of her ribbon hands in his. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. But… I’m so glad you told me because I feel the same way about you.”

Gangle’s entire body seemed to relax, the tension draining away as she stared at him with wide eyes. “You… you do?” she whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

Harry nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “I do. You’re kind, brave, and so much more than you give yourself credit for. I’ve been thinking about you all day too, and I guess I was just afraid to admit how I felt. But now… now I know.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the connection between them deepening in a way neither had expected. Gangle’s ribbons fluttered slightly, as if mirroring the butterflies in her stomach. Harry could feel his heart racing, but it wasn’t out of fear or uncertainty—it was out of pure happiness.

Gangle shifted slightly, still holding onto his hand as she spoke again, her voice even softer than before. “Harry… could I… could I sleep with you tonight? I know it’s a lot to ask, but… I just don’t want to be alone.”

Harry’s heart swelled with affection as he gently squeezed her hand. “Of course, Gangle,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “You can stay with me tonight. I don’t want you to be alone either.”

They both stood up, and Harry led Gangle toward the stairs that led to the boys’ dormitory. He knew that this was unconventional—Gangle was supposed to sleep in the girls’ dormitory, after all—but in this moment, none of that mattered. What mattered was that they had found each other in this strange, magical world, and they were there for each other, no matter what.

As they climbed the stairs, Harry couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t just the Boy Who Lived, burdened with the weight of a prophecy he barely understood. He was Harry—a boy who had found someone who cared for him, who saw him for who he truly was.

When they reached his bed, Harry helped Gangle climb in, her ribbons wrapping gently around him as she nestled close. The comfort and warmth of having her there, knowing that she cared for him as much as he cared for her, filled Harry with a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed.

“Goodnight, Gangle,” Harry whispered, resting his head against hers.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Gangle replied softly, her voice filled with a mix of relief and happiness.

As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s presence, the worries and fears of the day seemed to melt away. They had found something special in each other—something that made the challenges of Hogwarts and the uncertainty of the future feel a little less daunting.

For tonight, at least, they could rest easy, knowing they weren’t alone.

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Transfiguration classroom as the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students filed in, ready for their first class of the day. Ragatha entered the room with a spring in her step, still buzzing from the success of yesterday’s Charms class. She was excited to tackle whatever challenges Transfiguration would bring, though a little nervous about working alongside the Slytherins, especially after hearing about the trouble Zooble had with Draco Malfoy.

As she took her seat, Ragatha noticed Zooble sitting a few rows away, glaring daggers at Draco, who appeared completely indifferent. Draco leaned back in his chair, his expression one of smug boredom, as if the whole class were beneath him. Jax, seated at the back with a mischievous grin, was already up to something, though Ragatha hadn’t noticed yet.

Professor McGonagall swept into the room, her presence commanding and no-nonsense as always. She walked to the front of the class, turning to face the students with a stern gaze.

“Today, we’ll be having a practical test,” she announced, her voice crisp and direct. “Your task will be to create a permanent transformation. Specifically, you will be turning a rock into a cat. However, the potion you will be creating for this task is irreversible. It requires great skill and precision, which is why this is an advanced test.”

The students murmured quietly among themselves, nervous about the difficulty of the test. Transfiguration was known for being one of the most complex branches of magic, and this test was no different.

“You will have thirty minutes to complete your potion,” Professor McGonagall continued. “Once you have finished, you may test the potion by applying it to the rock in front of you. The potion must be brewed perfectly in order to work, and remember: this is a test of your magical ability and understanding, not just following instructions.”

With that, the test began.

Ragatha focused intently as she measured out her ingredients, her yarn fingers moving delicately as she followed the steps outlined on the board. She glanced around occasionally, noticing that most of the Hufflepuff students were as focused as she was. Neville Longbottom, who was seated nearby, looked particularly anxious, but Ragatha gave him an encouraging smile before returning to her work.

On the Slytherin side, Jax wasn’t taking things nearly as seriously. He glanced around with that familiar mischievous grin, his long ears twitching slightly as he looked over at the student next to him. Without missing a beat, Jax started copying the other student’s work, sneaking glances at their potion ingredients and measurements.

The professor, busy grading papers from a previous assignment, didn’t seem to notice Jax’s cheating. He worked quickly, barely even looking at his own notes as he threw ingredients into his cauldron with reckless abandon. Despite the chaotic method, the potion began to take on the correct color and consistency, much to Jax’s amusement.

As Ragatha worked carefully on her own potion, she didn’t notice Jax sneaking up behind her. While she was focused on stirring the mixture in her cauldron, Jax quickly and quietly poured a bit of his finished potion into her water bottle, then slipped back to his seat before anyone could notice.

Once back at his desk, Jax confidently poured his own potion onto the rock in front of him. There was a soft hiss as the liquid made contact, and the rock began to glow, its shape shifting and rippling. Moments later, the rock transformed into a sleek black cat, which blinked its yellow eyes and let out a soft meow.

The professor looked up from her grading just in time to see Jax’s successful transformation. She raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed despite herself.

“Well done, Mr. Jax,” Professor McGonagall said, though her tone was cautious. “You’ve completed the assignment correctly.”

Jax beamed, acting as if he had been working diligently the entire time. His grin widened as he glanced over at Ragatha, waiting for the next part of his prank to unfold.

Unaware of what Jax had done, Ragatha paused from her potion-making and took a sip from her water bottle. Almost immediately, she felt a strange sensation wash over her, like a tingling that spread from her head down to her toes. Her yarn hair began to stand on end, and her heart raced with sudden anxiety.

The room fell silent as Ragatha’s body started to change. Her eyes widened in horror as her head sprouted two fluffy cat ears, her hands twitched and became more paw-like, and a soft, furry tail unfurled from behind her. Whiskers appeared on her face, and her once-familiar voice came out as a small, confused meow.

The entire class gasped in shock, their eyes glued to the now-transformed Ragatha. She stared down at herself, completely mortified as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Her yarn hair, now tangled with fur, twitched as her mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of her new form.

Jax, unable to contain his laughter, burst out in fits of giggles. “Look at that! Ragatha’s gone full cat-girl!” he exclaimed, clutching his sides as he laughed harder. His loud cackling filled the classroom as some of the Slytherins joined in, amused by Ragatha’s transformation.

Professor McGonagall, hearing the commotion, snapped her head in Ragatha’s direction and immediately rushed over. Her face turned from concern to fury as she assessed the situation. “What in Merlin’s name—” she began, looking between Ragatha’s new form and Jax, who was still laughing.

Ragatha, now overwhelmed with embarrassment and confusion, looked at herself in disbelief. She could hear the students’ snickers, the murmurs of disbelief, and most of all, Jax’s incessant laughter. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her cat ears drooped in shame. She could feel all eyes on her, and it was too much.

Zooble, who had been watching with a tense expression, glared even harder at Draco, but he didn’t react. Draco, while clearly entertained, didn’t laugh along with Jax. Instead, he sat back with a subtle smirk, amused by Jax’s prank but unwilling to give him any outward credit.

Meanwhile, Jax reveled in the chaos he had caused, clearly enjoying the attention. But his enjoyment was short-lived.

“Mr. Jax!” Professor McGonagall’s voice cracked like a whip, silencing the laughter in an instant. She turned on him, her eyes blazing with anger. “What exactly have you done?”

Jax feigned innocence, his grin still in place. “Just a little fun, Professor,” he said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

But McGonagall wasn’t having it. “This is not ‘fun,’ Mr. Jax. This is dangerous, irresponsible behavior. You’ve tampered with another student’s potion and put her in harm’s way!” She motioned to Ragatha, who was still sitting there in disbelief, her whiskers twitching.

“We’ll be visiting the Head of House, and I can assure you that you’ll be serving detention for the foreseeable future,” McGonagall continued, her tone icy. “Class dismissed! Mr. Jax, come with me. Miss Ragatha, I’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey right away.”

The class quickly packed up, the room buzzing with whispers as students exchanged glances. Ragatha, still in her cat-girl form, followed McGonagall out of the classroom, her tail swishing nervously behind her.

Ragatha walked through the dim corridors of Hogwarts, flanked by Professor McGonagall, who kept casting concerned glances at her every few steps. Ragatha’s new cat ears twitched involuntarily, the soft swishing of her tail brushing against her legs as they walked. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she could barely keep up with her own thoughts. The students they passed in the hallway stared, wide-eyed and confused by her new form, but no one dared to say anything with Professor McGonagall at her side.

As they neared the hospital wing, Ragatha couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread wash over her. Her body felt strange, foreign, like it no longer belonged to her. The cat ears atop her head constantly picked up every tiny sound—the shuffling of footsteps, the distant conversations in other rooms—and her tail swayed uncomfortably behind her with each step. It was all too much. The familiarity of her ragdoll body, which had taken so long to adjust to after being trapped in the Digital Circus, now felt like a distant memory. She had grown used to it, even learned to embrace it, but this… this new transformation felt like it was tearing her apart all over again.

The moment she and McGonagall stepped into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was already rushing over. Her sharp eyes scanned Ragatha from head to toe, taking in the cat ears, the whiskers, the tail. She let out a soft gasp but quickly composed herself. "What happened?" she asked, her tone brisk but concerned.

"One of her fellow students tampered with her potion," McGonagall said, her voice filled with thinly veiled fury. "It appears that a permanent transformation has taken place."

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked back at Ragatha with a deepening concern. "A permanent transformation… I see." She gestured to one of the beds and gently guided Ragatha to sit down. "Let’s take a look and see if there’s anything we can do."

Ragatha sat down, feeling the soft material of the hospital bed beneath her. Her tail, unfamiliar and unwieldy, curled around her legs, making her wince with the strangeness of it. Madam Pomfrey performed a series of diagnostic spells, her wand moving smoothly as she muttered incantations under her breath. The glow from the spells illuminated Ragatha’s fur-covered hands, which looked so alien to her now.

After several long minutes, Madam Pomfrey stepped back with a heavy sigh, her face etched with regret. "I’m afraid Professor McGonagall’s suspicions are correct," she said gently, her voice softer now. "The transformation is permanent. The potion that was used is irreversible."

Ragatha felt her heart plummet. She had been holding on to the smallest sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be fixed. But hearing those words—that it was permanent—sent her spiraling back to the very moment she had entered the Digital Circus.

She had been a human once, just like everyone else. She had entered that strange, twisted world, put on the headset, and in an instant, her body had changed forever. She had become a ragdoll—her human form lost to her, replaced by stitched fabric and yarn hair. She had been horrified, trapped in a body that wasn’t hers, a prisoner in a form she hadn’t chosen. She remembered looking at herself for the first time in that new body, wanting to scream, to tear it all away, but knowing that she couldn’t. It was permanent, and no amount of fear or anger could undo it.

Over time, she had learned to live with it. She had adapted, made peace with her new form as best as she could. But now, as she looked down at her transformed body—her soft fur, the ears she could feel twitching on her head, the tail that felt so unnatural—she was once again faced with the crushing reality that her body had been changed forever. And this time, it was a change she had never anticipated.

Tears welled up in Ragatha’s eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to keep herself together. She couldn’t break down now, not in front of Madam Pomfrey, not in front of Professor McGonagall. But the fear, the helplessness—it was all too familiar. The thought of being stuck like this, of having to adjust all over again to a body that didn’t feel like hers, was overwhelming.

"I… I don’t understand," Ragatha whispered, her voice shaking as she looked up at Madam Pomfrey. "Why does this keep happening to me? Why do I always end up stuck in a body that isn’t mine?"

Madam Pomfrey’s face softened with sympathy. "I’m so sorry, dear," she said quietly. "It’s not fair, and I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through. But you are strong. You’ve adapted once before, and though this is different, I know you’ll find a way to get through it."

Ragatha wanted to believe her. She wanted to cling to the idea that she was strong enough to handle this, just like she had handled the Digital Circus. But the pain of that first transformation still lingered, and now, with this new one, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to face it again.

Professor McGonagall, who had been standing silently nearby, finally spoke, her voice firm but filled with a quiet empathy. "We will ensure that the student responsible for this is properly punished," she said, her eyes flashing with anger at the thought of Jax’s reckless prank. "But Ragatha, I know this is difficult. I can only imagine how you must feel, but you are a remarkable student. Don’t let this break you."

Ragatha nodded numbly, her mind still reeling from everything that had happened. She didn’t know how to respond—didn’t know what to say that could possibly capture the fear and sadness that was clawing at her heart. All she could do was sit there, feeling utterly lost in a body that felt like a cruel joke.

Madam Pomfrey stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Ragatha’s shoulder. "We’ll make sure you’re comfortable here for as long as you need," she said gently. "Take your time, and if there’s anything you need, just let me know."

Ragatha nodded again, feeling a tear finally escape and trail down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, though her voice was hollow.

As Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall stepped back, giving her some space, Ragatha looked down at her hands—no longer the familiar soft fabric she had grown used to, but covered in fur, with small claws tipping her fingers. She flexed her hand, watching the claws extend and retract, and it hit her all over again: she was a cat now. She would have to live with this, just like she had lived with being a ragdoll. But this time, it felt so much harder, so much more suffocating.

Ragatha closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. She wasn’t ready for this—not again.

Back in the classroom, the atmosphere was tense and heavy as the students waited for Professor McGonagall to return. Zooble sat rigidly at their desk, glaring daggers at Jax, who was basking in the attention of the other Slytherins. Jax sat back with his feet propped up on his desk, wearing that familiar, infuriating grin, acting as if nothing was wrong—like he hadn’t just turned Ragatha’s life upside down with his careless prank.

Zooble’s hands clenched into fists under the desk, their mismatched body trembling with restrained anger. They didn’t want to say anything, knowing that their detention from the previous night had already put them on thin ice. But their fury was palpable. Ragatha hadn’t deserved this. Jax’s prank wasn’t just a joke—it was cruel, and now Ragatha had to live with the consequences forever.

As Zooble’s glare intensified, Draco Malfoy, sitting nearby, caught sight of it. He smirked, leaning back in his chair with that usual air of smug superiority. “What’s the matter, Zooble?” he drawled, loud enough for the other Slytherins to hear. “Can’t handle a little fun? It’s just a prank. Nothing to get so worked up about.”

Zooble clenched their teeth but said nothing, forcing themselves to look away. They knew better than to take Draco’s bait, especially with so much on the line. If they spoke up now, they’d likely end up in even deeper trouble. But it was hard to ignore the simmering rage building in their chest.

Draco, seeing that Zooble wasn’t going to respond, snickered and leaned over to Jax. “Good one, Jax,” he said, his voice filled with approval. “Turning her into a cat-girl like that? Brilliant.”

The rest of the Slytherins around them started laughing, congratulating Jax on his “success” as if it had been nothing more than an innocent joke. Jax shrugged with a smug grin, clearly enjoying the attention. “I do what I can,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “And you should’ve seen her face. Priceless.”

More laughter erupted from the Slytherins, and Zooble had to physically stop themselves from reacting. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing—how could they all find this so funny? How could they be so heartless?

But the laughter died down in an instant when the classroom door swung open, and Professor McGonagall strode in, her face set in a mask of cold fury. The room fell silent, every student sitting up straighter in their seats, sensing the storm that was about to break.

McGonagall didn’t speak right away. She simply stood at the front of the room, her sharp eyes scanning the students, pausing briefly on Jax, who suddenly didn’t look quite as smug as he had a moment ago. The weight of her gaze seemed to silence even the most defiant students, and the atmosphere became even more suffocating.

“Mr. Jax,” she finally said, her voice calm but filled with the unmistakable edge of authority. “I would like to have a word with you in my office. Now.”

The classroom seemed to hold its breath as Jax slowly stood, his carefree demeanor cracking slightly under McGonagall’s intense stare. He tried to maintain his usual nonchalance, but it was clear that even he wasn’t immune to the cold fear that Professor McGonagall’s presence inspired.

“Yes, Professor,” Jax muttered, slipping his hands into his pockets as he headed toward the door. His long ears drooped ever so slightly, and for the first time, he looked less like the confident prankster and more like someone who knew they were about to face the consequences.

As Jax followed McGonagall out of the classroom, the remaining students exchanged nervous glances. The Slytherins who had been laughing moments ago were now silent, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of what was going to happen next.

Zooble, still fuming, watched them go, a small sense of satisfaction blooming in their chest. Jax was finally going to be held accountable for what he’d done, and though it wouldn’t undo what had happened to Ragatha, at least some justice was about to be served.

But as the door closed behind Jax and McGonagall, the classroom was left in uneasy silence.

It was lunch break in the Great Hall, and the usual chatter filled the air as students from every house gathered at their respective tables. Gangle, Kinger, and Pomni sat together at one of the quieter corners of the Ravenclaw table, far enough from the crowd that they could talk without being overheard.

Pomni was fidgeting with the hem of her jester outfit, glancing over at the Hufflepuff table, where Ragatha sat, looking more than a little uncomfortable. Gangle had noticed her awkward behavior as well, and after exchanging a glance with Pomni, she finally decided to bring up what had been on her mind all morning.

“Did you hear what happened to Ragatha?” Pomni asked in a low voice, her gaze still fixed on their friend across the room.

Kinger shook his head, looking perplexed. “No, I haven’t heard anything. Is she alright?”

Gangle, also curious, leaned in closer. “What do you mean, Pomni? What happened to her?”

Pomni took a deep breath, then gestured subtly toward Ragatha, who was sitting nervously with the other Hufflepuffs, her hands fidgeting with her silverware. “Look closely at Ragatha. She… she looks different.”

Gangle and Kinger followed Pomni’s gaze, and it didn’t take long for them to notice what she meant. Ragatha wasn’t just sitting nervously—she had cat ears on top of her head, and a fluffy tail that occasionally flicked behind her. Her appearance was striking, even from across the hall. She still had her ragdoll-like features, but now they were mixed with feline characteristics, and her unease was painfully obvious.

“What… what in the world happened to her?” Kinger asked, his floating hands twitching in alarm. “Is that… is that permanent?”

Pomni sighed and explained in a hushed voice, “From what I’ve heard, Jax tampered with her potion during their Transfiguration class. She was supposed to be working on a transformation spell, but Jax slipped some of his potion into her water bottle, and… well, that’s the result.”

Gangle gasped, her ribbons tightening around her arms in horror. “That’s terrible! Jax did that as a prank?”

Kinger’s expression darkened, his hands curling into fists. “That’s not a prank; that’s cruel. Ragatha didn’t deserve that.”

Pomni nodded in agreement, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I overheard some of the Slytherins talking about it. Apparently, Jax thinks it’s hilarious, and the rest of them were congratulating him earlier. But it’s not funny—it’s awful.”

They sat in silence for a moment, all three of them stealing occasional glances at Ragatha, who looked completely out of place and uncomfortable among her housemates. It was clear that she was struggling to adjust to her new appearance, and the thought of Jax laughing about it made the situation even worse.

After a while, Gangle broke the silence. “It’s so unfair,” she said quietly. “Poor Ragatha…”

Pomni and Kinger nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring Gangle’s sadness and frustration. But Gangle suddenly straightened up, her ribbon arms twitching nervously. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask both of you,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Pomni and Kinger turned to her, curious. “What is it?” Pomni asked.

Gangle shifted in her seat, glancing down at the table before looking back up at her friends. “I… I wanted to ask for advice,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “You see, I’ve been thinking about Harry Potter a lot lately, and… well, I really like him. I think I might want to ask him to be my boyfriend.”

Pomni and Kinger’s eyes widened in surprise. Pomni quickly recovered, offering Gangle a supportive smile. “Wow, Gangle! That’s a big step,” she said, her voice warm with encouragement. “It sounds like you’ve really thought about this.”

Kinger, still processing the news, nodded slowly. “You and Harry have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t you? He seems to really care about you, too.”

Gangle blushed beneath her mask, her ribbons fluttering anxiously. “I think he does,” she admitted. “He’s been so kind to me, and we’ve had some really nice conversations. I feel… comfortable around him, like he understands me.”

Pomni beamed at her friend. “That’s wonderful, Gangle! If you feel that way, then maybe it’s time to take the next step and ask him. It sounds like he likes you, too.”

Gangle’s ribbons twisted together as she fidgeted nervously. “I’m just scared… What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or what if I’m rushing things? I don’t want to make things awkward between us.”

Kinger leaned in, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s normal to be scared, Gangle. But you won’t know how he feels unless you ask him. From everything I’ve seen, Harry cares about you a lot. I think he’d be flattered that you feel the same way.”

Pomni nodded in agreement. “Kinger’s right. It’s scary, but you’ve already formed a strong bond with him. I think he’ll be honest with you no matter what. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s kind enough to let you down gently.”

Gangle took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I guess I just have to be brave.” She looked up at Pomni and Kinger, her ribbons trembling slightly. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

Pomni smiled and reached out to place a comforting hand on Gangle’s arm. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens. And I have a feeling things are going to work out just fine.”

Kinger grinned, his hands floating over the table as if to offer silent support. “And if Harry doesn’t feel the same way, we’ll be right here to help you through it. But honestly, I think he’ll be thrilled.”

Gangle’s nerves didn’t entirely disappear, but their words filled her with a renewed sense of confidence. She wasn’t sure how Harry would react, but one thing was clear: she had amazing friends who would support her no matter what. And that made all the difference.

“I’ll do it,” Gangle said finally, her voice soft but determined. “I’ll ask Harry to be my boyfriend.”

Pomni and Kinger both smiled at her, their faces full of pride and encouragement. And as they sat together, Gangle felt a little braver, ready to take the next step in her journey—whatever the outcome might be.

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with the usual evening energy. Students sat in groups, finishing up their homework, chatting by the fire, or just relaxing after a long day of classes. Gangle sat nervously in a corner, her ribbon arms fluttering slightly as she kept glancing at Harry, who was sitting nearby, absorbed in a book. The flickering firelight danced across his features, and Gangle’s heart raced in her chest.

Tonight’s the night, she thought, her mind swirling with a mixture of excitement and fear. She had spent all of lunch thinking about her conversation with Pomni and Kinger, and now, the moment had finally come. She was going to ask Harry if he would be her boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Gangle slowly stood up and made her way over to where Harry was sitting. Her steps felt heavier with each movement, but she kept her focus on Harry, reminding herself that no matter what happened, this was a step she had to take.

When she reached him, she hesitated for just a moment, her ribbons twisting in nervous anticipation. Then, with a shaky voice, she spoke.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from his book, his expression softening when he saw Gangle standing there. He smiled at her, setting the book aside. “Hey, Gangle. What’s up?”

The noise in the common room seemed to fade into the background as Gangle gathered her courage. She could feel the eyes of a few nearby students turning toward them, curious as to what was happening, but she tried her best to ignore it.

“Can… can I talk to you about something?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, his expression kind and encouraging. “Of course. You can talk to me about anything.”

Gangle took another deep breath, her ribbon arms shaking slightly as she clenched them together. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but there was no turning back now. She had to ask.

“Harry, I… I really like you,” she began, her voice trembling with nerves. “And… I was wondering if… if you’d like to be my boyfriend?”

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. Gangle’s heart raced even faster as she waited for Harry’s response, her mind swirling with a thousand different possibilities. What if he said no? What if she had completely misread everything between them?

The other students around them seemed to hold their breath, the entire common room growing quiet as they realized what was happening. Several Gryffindors exchanged surprised glances, clearly shocked that Gangle had made such a bold move.

But then, Harry smiled—a warm, genuine smile that made Gangle’s heart flutter even more.

“I’d love to be your boyfriend, Gangle,” Harry said, his voice steady and sincere. “I really like you too.”

The room erupted in gasps, whispers spreading quickly through the group of students who had been watching the exchange. A few girls covered their mouths in surprise, while others exchanged looks of disbelief. No one had expected this to happen, least of all Gangle, who stood there in stunned silence for a moment, processing what Harry had just said.

He had said yes .

Harry stood up and gently reached out, taking one of Gangle’s ribbon hands in his. “You’ve always been so kind to me,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.”

Gangle’s entire body seemed to relax at his words, the tension and fear that had been building up all day melting away in an instant. She smiled beneath her mask, her ribbon arms trembling with a mixture of joy and relief. “R-Really?” she asked, still in awe.

“Really,” Harry confirmed with a grin.

For the first time all night, Gangle felt truly at ease. Her heart was soaring, and she couldn’t believe that she had actually done it—she had asked Harry to be her boyfriend, and he had said yes. It felt almost unreal, like something out of a dream, but the warmth of Harry’s hand in hers was proof that this was very real.

As the whispers and gasps died down, a few students in the common room began to smile, some offering small nods of approval. While Gangle was still different from the rest of them, it seemed that many of the Gryffindors were beginning to accept her—especially now that she and Harry were officially together.

Harry, still holding her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t we go for a walk outside?” he suggested. “It’s quieter out there, and we can talk more.”

Gangle nodded eagerly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I’d like that.”

With that, the two of them left the common room together, the curious eyes of the other students following them as they went. But Gangle didn’t care about the whispers or the surprised looks anymore. All that mattered was the happiness she felt inside, knowing that Harry cared for her just as much as she cared for him.

As they walked through the castle corridors, hand in hand, Gangle felt a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she knew that with Harry by her side, she could face anything.

Chapter Text

That morning, Gangle and Harry woke up in the soft, warm glow of the early morning sun filtering through the window of the Gryffindor dormitory. They had spent another night together, a comforting presence for one another amidst the strangeness of the magical world. Harry stirred beside her, still half asleep, as Gangle quietly slipped out of bed, intending to get dressed for the day.

She padded softly into the bathroom, her ribbon body gently swaying with each step. Everything felt normal until she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then her eyes zeroed in on something strange: a small white blob, no larger than a pencil eraser, was floating inside the spirals of her ribbon body.

Her heart skipped a beat. She leaned closer to the mirror, squinting at the mysterious object, trying to figure out what it was. The white blob hovered in the center of her ribbon-like form, perfectly still. How was it floating there? It didn’t make any sense.

With growing unease, Gangle reached out to touch it, hoping to move it or at least get a sense of what it might be. But as soon as her ribbon arm got close, she felt a sharp sting, like a jolt of electricity, shoot through her arm. She yanked her hand back with a gasp, clutching it in pain.

What was that?!

Panic began to rise in her chest. She stared at the white blob, her mind racing with a thousand possibilities, none of them good.

Quickly, she hurried back into the room, where Harry was just starting to wake up. His green eyes fluttered open, and he smiled sleepily at her, but the look of fear and distress on her face quickly wiped the drowsiness from his expression.

"Gangle? What’s wrong?" Harry asked, immediately sitting up, concern etched across his face.

Gangle took a deep breath, her ribbons trembling. "Harry… I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s this white thing—this blob—floating inside of me. And when I tried to touch it, something… hurt me. It felt like a shock."

Harry’s eyes widened with alarm, and he quickly got out of bed, moving to her side. "What? A white blob? Inside of you?" He looked her over, trying to see what she was talking about, but it wasn’t visible from the outside. "Gangle, that sounds… that sounds bad. Could it be some kind of parasite?"

Gangle’s heart lurched at the word parasite . The very thought of something growing inside of her, something harmful, made her feel sick with fear. Her ribbons tightened around her as she hugged herself, shaking her head.

"I don’t know," she whispered, her voice filled with terror. "What if it is a parasite, Harry? What if something’s wrong with me?"

Harry’s face was pale with worry, but he quickly moved to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey right away," he said firmly. "She’ll know what to do. Don’t worry, Gangle. We’ll figure this out."

Together, they hurried to the hospital wing, Harry holding her ribbon hand tightly as they walked through the empty corridors. Every second felt like an eternity as Gangle’s mind spiraled with fear, imagining all the worst-case scenarios. Was something growing inside of her? Would it hurt her? What if there was no way to fix it?

When they reached Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse was already attending to another student, but the urgency in Gangle’s voice as she explained the situation immediately caught her attention.

"A white blob inside of you, you say?" Madam Pomfrey asked, her brows knitting together with concern. "And it caused you pain when you tried to touch it?"

Gangle nodded, her entire body trembling with anxiety. "Yes. I don’t know what it is, but it’s just floating inside me, and… I’m scared."

Madam Pomfrey’s expression softened slightly, and she gestured for Gangle to lie down on one of the hospital beds. "Let me take a look. We’ll see if we can figure out what’s going on."

Gangle did as she was told, lying down nervously as Madam Pomfrey performed a series of diagnostic spells, her wand moving gracefully through the air as a soft glow surrounded Gangle’s ribboned body. Harry stood by her side the entire time, his face tight with worry, his hand gripping hers for support.

After several long moments, Madam Pomfrey’s wand stopped glowing, and she lowered it with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Well," she said slowly, "it’s not a parasite."

Relief washed over Gangle for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by confusion. "Then… what is it?"

Madam Pomfrey hesitated for a second before meeting Gangle’s wide, fearful eyes. "It’s not a parasite, Gangle," she said gently. "It’s an embryo. You’re pregnant."

The words hit Gangle like a thunderclap, her mind freezing in shock. Pregnant? How was that possible? She had a body made of ribbons—how could she even be capable of something like this?

Harry’s face paled, and he looked just as stunned as Gangle. "P-Pregnant?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, her tone calm but serious. "Yes, it seems so. The white blob you saw is an embryo developing within your body. While it’s highly unusual, magical pregnancies can manifest in different ways depending on the nature of the individual. Gangle’s unique form as a ribbon entity likely influenced how this pregnancy is presenting itself."

Gangle’s mind was spinning. Pregnant? Her? But how…?

Her ribbon hands trembled as she clutched Harry’s hand even tighter. "But… but how is that possible?" she asked, her voice shaking. "I don’t even have a… a normal body. I’m made of ribbons. How can I be pregnant?"

Madam Pomfrey’s expression softened with sympathy. "In the magical world, the body and magic itself can work in mysterious ways. It seems that, despite your unique form, you’re still capable of reproduction. Your pregnancy is presenting differently, but it’s no less real."

Gangle felt her chest tighten with panic. She hadn’t expected this—she hadn’t even thought it was possible. And now, the idea of being pregnant, of carrying something inside her, was overwhelming.

Harry, still processing the news himself, looked down at Gangle, his hand squeezing hers gently. "Gangle…" he whispered, his voice filled with concern and confusion. "I… I didn’t know this could happen either. But we’ll get through this, okay? We’ll figure it out together."

Tears welled up in Gangle’s eyes, and she looked up at him, her voice trembling. "I’m scared, Harry. I don’t know what to do."

Harry leaned closer, his expression soft and full of love. "I’m scared too," he admitted quietly. "But you’re not alone in this. We’ll face it together, no matter what. We’ll figure out how to handle this, one step at a time."

Madam Pomfrey stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. "For now, Gangle, I’ll monitor your pregnancy closely. It’s unusual, but I don’t foresee any immediate danger to you or the embryo. However, we’ll need to take special care to ensure everything progresses safely."

Gangle nodded numbly, still trying to wrap her mind around the news. Her heart raced with fear, but as she looked at Harry beside her—his hand warm in hers, his eyes full of support—she felt a small flicker of hope. She wasn’t alone, and whatever came next, they would face it together.

But still, deep inside, the fear lingered.

Ragatha woke up in the early morning light, her doll-like body now intertwined with the unfamiliar features of a cat—soft fur, twitching ears, and a tail that seemed to have a mind of its own. She stretched out in bed, still getting used to the bizarre transformation that Jax’s cruel prank had caused. As she moved, a tapping sound drew her attention to the window.

Perched on the windowsill was an owl, its large amber eyes fixed on her as it dropped a letter onto the windowsill before flying off into the dawn. Ragatha sat up quickly, curiosity piqued. She hurried over to the window and picked up the letter, her heart skipping a beat when she saw her name on the front in elegant script. There was no signature, but the message inside was clear and simple.

"Meet me in the courtyard. I can turn you back into a human."

Ragatha’s breath caught in her throat, and a wave of hope surged through her. Turn me back into a human? The very idea seemed impossible. For so long, she had accepted that being a ragdoll was her new reality, and the recent addition of cat features had only made her feel more distant from the person she used to be. But now, here was the chance she had never thought she’d get—to be human again, to return to her old self. It was too good to be true, and yet… the joy she felt was overwhelming.

She quickly got dressed and rushed down the stairs, nearly bumping into Neville Longbottom in the common room.

“Hey, Ragatha! You seem happy,” Neville said, smiling brightly. He had been one of the few to stand by her since the incident with Jax, and he looked genuinely pleased to see her in good spirits for once.

“I’m just— I have to go to the courtyard. I’ll be right back, okay?” Ragatha replied, a wide smile on her face as she waved and darted out of the common room, not even waiting for Neville’s response.

Neville waved her off, not thinking much of it. After all, it had been a while since Ragatha looked so excited, and he was just glad to see her like this after everything that had happened.

As Ragatha made her way through the castle corridors, the thrill of anticipation bubbled inside her. She imagined what it would be like to be human again, to finally leave behind the limitations of her ragdoll form and the cat-like features that had been thrust upon her. The possibility seemed like a dream come true, and she was so caught up in her excitement that she didn’t question why the letter was unsigned.

When she arrived in the courtyard, the cool morning air kissed her cheeks, and she glanced around, looking for whoever had sent the mysterious letter. But as her gaze swept across the courtyard, she saw only one figure—standing in the shadows, with an aura so dark and foreboding that her heart dropped in her chest.

The man had a pale, almost serpentine face, with cruel, slitted eyes and an evil presence that made Ragatha’s stomach churn. She had seen that face before—in the Harry Potter books she had read back in the Digital Circus.

Voldemort.

Ragatha froze, her instincts screaming at her to run, but her legs felt heavy. The sheer malevolence in the air made it hard to move, and fear began to coil in her chest. Why is he here? she thought, panic rising as she realized this wasn’t a friendly meeting.

Voldemort stepped out of the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he took in Ragatha’s doll-like form with a hint of disdain. “You must be Ragatha,” he said, his voice a cold hiss. “You’ve come, as I expected.”

Ragatha swallowed hard, her voice shaky. “Y-You… you’re Voldemort. Why are you here? What do you want?”

A cruel smile twisted his lips. “I know what you want, Ragatha. You long to return to your human form, don’t you? To be free of this ridiculous body that has trapped you for so long.”

Ragatha’s heart raced, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. “I—” she stammered, trying to make sense of what was happening. She had wanted nothing more than to be human again, but now, standing before Voldemort, she realized that the price for her wish would be far greater than she had ever imagined.

Voldemort’s smile widened, and he stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “I can give that to you. I can return you to your human form. All I ask is that you join me and become one of my Death Eaters. Serve me, Ragatha, and I will give you everything you desire.”

Ragatha took a step back, her cat ears flattening in fear. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I won’t join you. I know who you are, and I won’t— I won’t help you.”

Voldemort’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Think carefully, Ragatha. You’ve been trapped in that pitiful form for so long. Are you really willing to give up the chance to be human again? All you need to do is swear loyalty to me, and you will have what you’ve always wanted.”

Terror gripped Ragatha, but deep down, she knew she couldn’t accept his offer. Becoming a Death Eater—becoming one of Voldemort’s followers—would mean losing herself completely. Even if she could return to her human form, it wouldn’t be worth the cost of her soul.

“No,” she said, her voice stronger this time. “I’ll never join you.”

Voldemort’s face twisted in fury. “Foolish girl,” he hissed. “You’ll regret this decision.”

Before Ragatha could react, Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it directly at her. “You think you can refuse me? Run if you wish, but it won’t save you.”

Panic surged through Ragatha’s veins, and she turned to run, her legs carrying her as fast as they could. But before she could get far, she felt something tighten around her—magic, cold and constricting, wrapping around her like invisible chains. She gasped, struggling against the invisible force, but it was no use. Voldemort’s magic had her in its grip.

“No!” she cried out, fear flooding her as she was pulled back toward him.

Voldemort’s expression was one of cold amusement as he watched her struggle. “I warned you, Ragatha. You should have accepted my offer.”

With a flick of his wand, the world around her went dark, and Ragatha felt herself being pulled away, her body collapsing into nothingness as Voldemort kidnapped her, dragging her into his sinister grasp.

Zooble sat slouched on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room, their mismatched body parts arranged in the most comfortable position they could manage as they tried, unsuccessfully, to tune out the chatter of their housemates. The Slytherin common room was always filled with murmurs, half-schemes, and occasional cruel laughter, none of which interested Zooble in the slightest. They were bored— always bored—and had become pretty good at ignoring most of the nonsense that went on around them.

But today, something caught their attention.

Across the room, Jax was sitting with a group of Slytherins, his usual smug grin plastered across his face as he regaled them with yet another one of his ridiculous stories. Zooble wasn't paying much attention until they heard a familiar name— Ragatha .

Curiosity sparked, and Zooble couldn’t help but eavesdrop as Jax’s voice rose above the ambient noise, clearly eager to impress his audience.

"So, get this," Jax said, leaning in toward the group, his long ears twitching with mischief. "I pulled off the craziest prank yet. I managed to send a letter to Voldemort."

The group of Slytherins gasped, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Even Zooble couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the mention of Voldemort, their attention now fully on Jax.

"I told him Ragatha had been transformed into some weird cat-girl thing," Jax continued, his voice filled with glee. "I figured that would get his attention since Voldemort's been strapped for cash lately, what with buying that new castle and all. The guy’s in debt —can you believe that? Dark Lord of the Wizarding World, and he’s got financial troubles." Jax chuckled, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious.

Zooble’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as they listened. They had known Jax was cruel and reckless, but involving Voldemort in one of his pranks? That was crossing a line—one that could get someone seriously hurt, if not worse.

Jax leaned back, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "So, I made up this story in the letter. I told Voldemort that Ragatha’s got golden blood —you know, something super rare and valuable. I said if he kills her, he’d be able to sell her blood for enough gold to pay off all his debts. I even told him she’d be easy to manipulate because of her transformation. And of course, that snake-faced git bought it."

The Slytherins around him erupted into laughter, clearly finding the whole thing hilarious. But Zooble felt their blood run cold. Golden blood? Manipulating Ragatha?

What have you done, Jax?

Zooble’s mind raced as they tried to process what Jax had just revealed. Voldemort was dangerous . This wasn’t some harmless prank—it was potentially deadly. Ragatha, sweet and kind as she was, had no idea that she was walking into a trap. And if Voldemort believed the lie about her blood being valuable, he would stop at nothing to get it.

Zooble’s hands tightened into fists, anger and frustration bubbling up inside them. They had tried to ignore Jax, tried not to get involved in his idiotic schemes, but this was too far. Ragatha didn’t deserve this—none of them did.

Without thinking, Zooble stood up from their spot on the couch and stormed over to where Jax was sitting, cutting through the laughter and grabbing everyone’s attention.

"Are you completely insane?" Zooble hissed, their mismatched eyes narrowing in fury. "You sent a letter to Voldemort ? Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?"

Jax looked up at Zooble, clearly not expecting the outburst, but his grin didn’t falter. "Relax, Zooble," he said casually, waving a hand as if to dismiss their concerns. "It’s just a prank. Voldemort’s not going to actually kill her. He’s just in it for the money. Besides, Ragatha’s tough. She’ll be fine."

Zooble stared at him in disbelief. "Fine? You think she’ll be fine after being lured into a trap by the most dangerous dark wizard alive because you thought it would be funny? You’re putting her life in danger!"

Jax shrugged, completely unbothered. "She’ll figure it out. It’s not like anyone actually has golden blood. Voldemort’ll be disappointed, but he won’t hurt her."

Zooble’s fists clenched, and they struggled to keep their voice calm. "You don’t understand anything, Jax. You’ve crossed a line. This isn’t a game. If Voldemort believes what you told him and he’s desperate enough, he will kill her. And then what? You’re just going to laugh it off?"

The other Slytherins around them had gone quiet, the mood shifting as they began to realize the gravity of what Jax had done. Even some of the more loyal Slytherins who had laughed earlier were exchanging uneasy glances now.

Jax’s grin faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, though there was an edge to his voice now. "Look, it’s not my problem if she gets herself into trouble. I didn’t make her go to the courtyard. It’s her choice."

Zooble glared at him, their frustration boiling over. "You may think this is just another one of your jokes, but this isn’t about a harmless prank anymore. If Ragatha gets hurt because of this, it’s on you ."

With that, Zooble turned on their heel, leaving the common room as fast as they could. They had to find Ragatha, warn her, and stop whatever was about to happen. There was no time to waste.

Kinger and Pomni walked side by side through the castle halls, their steps heavy with concern. Ever since Ragatha had been transformed into a cat-girl the day before, neither of them could shake the worry gnawing at their insides. Ragatha was strong, kind, and had always tried to stay positive, but this new transformation had clearly shaken her, and they hadn’t seen her all day. Hoping to check on her, they made their way toward the Hufflepuff common room, thinking they might find her there.

When they entered the cozy, warm space of the Hufflepuff tower, their eyes scanned the room, but Ragatha was nowhere in sight. Kinger’s floating hands fidgeted nervously, and Pomni, her jester hat twitching with anxiety, exchanged a worried glance with him.

"Where is she?" Kinger murmured, his voice filled with concern. "I thought for sure she'd be here."

Just then, Neville Longbottom, who had been sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, looked up and quickly hurried over to them, a deep frown on his face. He seemed just as worried as they were, if not more.

"Kinger, Pomni, have you seen Ragatha?" Neville asked urgently, his brow furrowed. "She told me earlier she was going to the courtyard and that she’d be right back, but… it’s been over an hour, and she still hasn’t returned."

Pomni’s heart sank at Neville’s words. "The courtyard?" she repeated, sharing a nervous glance with Kinger. "No, we haven’t seen her. We were just coming to check on her."

Neville’s worry deepened, his eyes darting toward the window. "She was in such a good mood when she left, but now I’m starting to get really worried. What if something happened?"

Kinger, sensing the growing tension, nodded firmly. "Let’s go check the courtyard together. Maybe she just got delayed or… something."

Neville nodded quickly, and the three of them wasted no time in leaving the Hufflepuff common room, their footsteps echoing through the stone halls as they made their way to the courtyard. Each step felt heavier than the last as their minds raced with thoughts of where Ragatha could be and what could have delayed her.

When they finally reached the courtyard, they all froze in place.

The courtyard was eerily quiet, but the most horrifying sight was the patch of burnt grass in the center of the space. The ground had been scorched in the shape of a dark, foreboding symbol— the Death Eaters' mark.

Pomni gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "No… no, this can’t be happening," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

Neville stepped forward, his face pale as he stared at the mark, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. "Could it have been… Voldemort?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kinger’s floating hands trembled as he stared at the burnt mark, his mind struggling to process what they were seeing. "Ragatha… she was here… but now…" His voice trailed off, horror flooding him as he realized what this meant.

Before any of them could say another word, the doors to the courtyard swung open with a loud bang, and Zooble stormed in, their eyes wide with panic and fury. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the Death Eaters' mark burned into the ground.

"No…" Zooble whispered, their voice filled with disbelief. "We’re too late."

Pomni turned to Zooble, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean, 'too late'? Zooble, what’s going on? Do you know where Ragatha is?"

Zooble’s mismatched hands clenched tightly at their sides, their frustration boiling over as they explained what had happened. "It’s Jax. He sent a letter to Voldemort. It was all part of some sick prank. He told Voldemort that Ragatha has golden blood, that if Voldemort kills her, he’d be rich enough to pay off his debts. Voldemort must’ve believed it."

Kinger’s eyes widened in shock, his floating hands trembling more than ever. "Jax… did that ? Are you serious? He involved Voldemort in one of his pranks?"

Neville took a step back, his face pale with horror. "Golden blood? That’s insane! Ragatha doesn’t have—"

"I know!" Zooble snapped, their voice filled with anger. "But Voldemort doesn’t know that. He thinks she’s valuable, and now he’s taken her. I tried to stop this, but I… I didn’t get here in time." Zooble’s voice cracked with frustration as they glanced down at the burnt grass, knowing they had failed to protect Ragatha.

Pomni’s heart pounded in her chest, fear gripping her as she stared at the mark on the ground. "What are we going to do? Voldemort has Ragatha, and we don’t even know where he is!"

Neville’s voice shook as he spoke. "We have to tell someone—Professor McGonagall, or Dumbledore. We can’t handle this on our own. Voldemort is too dangerous, and Ragatha is in serious danger."

Zooble clenched their fists, frustration and guilt gnawing at them. "I know. But Jax’s prank has already put her in Voldemort’s hands. We have to act fast before he realizes the truth… and before something worse happens to her."

Kinger’s voice was firm, though fear was written all over his face. "Then we don’t have time to waste. Let’s go to McGonagall. We need help— now ."

Without another word, the four of them turned and rushed back toward the castle, the weight of what had happened pressing down on them like a dark cloud. Ragatha’s life was in danger, and they could only hope that they weren’t too late to save her from the evil that had her in its grasp.

As they ran, Pomni couldn’t shake the fear that Voldemort had already done something to Ragatha. But she pushed that thought away, focusing on one thing: they had to find her, no matter what it took.

Gangle and Harry sat cozily in the Gryffindor common room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth as they talked. Gangle had been bubbling with excitement since that morning, when she had found out she was pregnant. It was still such a strange and surreal feeling, but having Harry beside her made everything seem a little less overwhelming. She smiled at him, her ribbon arms swaying slightly as she spoke.

“I can’t believe it, Harry,” Gangle said, her voice filled with joy. “I’m going to be a mother! It’s… it’s scary, but I’m excited too.”

Harry grinned, squeezing her hand gently. “I’m excited too, Gangle. We’re in this together, and we’ll figure it all out. You’ll be an amazing mom, I know it.”

Just as Gangle was about to reply, the door to the common room suddenly swung open with a loud creak. Standing in the doorway, looking breathless and frantic, was Pomni. Her jester outfit was slightly disheveled, and her expression was filled with urgency.

“Pomni!” Gangle exclaimed, standing up quickly and rushing over to her friend. “You’ll never believe it—I have some amazing news!” Her face lit up with excitement as she continued, “Harry and I are having a baby! Can you believe it? We just found out!”

Pomni’s eyes widened for a moment, clearly surprised, but she quickly smiled, pushing the more pressing matter aside for a brief second. “Wow, Gangle, that’s incredible! Congratulations!” she said, her voice warm. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

But Pomni’s smile faded almost as quickly as it appeared, her expression turning serious again. “But… Gangle, I’m afraid I don’t have much time. Something terrible has happened.”

Gangle frowned, her excitement giving way to concern. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Pomni took a deep breath, her face pale with worry. “Ragatha… she’s been kidnapped.”

Harry stood up immediately, his brow furrowed. “What? Kidnapped? By who?”

Gangle blinked in disbelief, shaking her head as if trying to make sense of Pomni’s words. “That can’t be true! Kidnapped? What are you talking about, Pomni?”

Pomni bit her lip, her voice filled with urgency as she explained. “Voldemort kidnapped her. He lured her out to the courtyard by pretending he could turn her back into a human. And… it’s all because of Jax.”

The room seemed to freeze for a moment, the weight of Pomni’s words sinking in. Gangle stared at Pomni, her eyes wide with shock. “V-Voldemort? But… how? Why would he— And Jax? What did Jax do?”

Pomni took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with anger. “Jax sent a letter to Voldemort, pretending that Ragatha had golden blood. He told Voldemort that if he killed her, he’d get rich and be able to pay off his debts. Voldemort believed him, and now Ragatha’s in danger.”

Gangle’s face went pale as she processed what Pomni was saying. “No… no, that can’t be true. Jax wouldn’t—he couldn’t…”

But the look on Pomni’s face told her that it was true, and a wave of panic rushed through her. Ragatha, her dear friend, was in the hands of the darkest wizard in the world, all because of some twisted joke.

Harry looked just as shocked, but his expression quickly hardened with determination. “Where are Neville, Kinger, and Zooble? What’s the plan?”

“They’re already making their way to Professor McGonagall’s office to ask for help,” Pomni replied quickly. “We need to get the teachers involved—this is Voldemort we’re talking about. We can’t handle this alone.”

Gangle’s mind was spinning, her heart pounding with fear. “We… we have to save her,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We can’t let Voldemort hurt Ragatha.”

Pomni nodded firmly. “We won’t. But we need to act fast. Voldemort won’t wait around forever, especially if he thinks Ragatha is valuable.”

Harry grabbed his wand from the table, his eyes sharp with determination. “Then let’s go. We need to catch up with the others and figure out how we’re going to get her back.”

Gangle, still in shock, nodded, her ribbons trembling with fear. But as much as she was scared, she knew one thing for sure: they had to save Ragatha, no matter what it took.

With Pomni leading the way, the three of them rushed out of the Gryffindor common room, their minds racing as they hurried to join Neville, Kinger, and Zooble. The thought of Ragatha in Voldemort’s clutches filled them all with dread, but they knew they couldn’t give up. Together, they had to find a way to bring her back before it was too late.

Kinger, Zooble, and Neville rushed through the halls of Hogwarts, their hearts pounding as they made their way toward Professor McGonagall’s office. The tension was palpable, and the urgency in their steps made it clear just how dire the situation had become. None of them had spoken much since they had left the courtyard, their minds consumed with thoughts of Ragatha and the dark turn that Jax’s prank had taken.

They reached the door to McGonagall’s office, and without hesitation, Neville knocked sharply. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Professor McGonagall sitting at her desk, her sharp eyes scanning over some papers. When she looked up and saw the worry etched across their faces, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Kinger, Ms. Zooble," she said, rising from her seat and walking around the desk. "What’s happened? You all look positively frantic."

Zooble was the first to speak, their voice tight with frustration and panic. "Professor, we don’t have much time. Something terrible has happened to Ragatha."

McGonagall’s face immediately hardened, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? What has happened?"

Neville stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. "Ragatha’s been kidnapped, Professor. We think it was Voldemort. The Death Eater mark was burnt into the courtyard grass when we got there."

McGonagall’s expression changed in an instant, her face paling as the gravity of the situation hit her. "Voldemort?" she whispered, her tone filled with dread. "Are you certain?"

Kinger nodded, his voice shaky as he added, "Zooble just told us… Jax sent a letter to Voldemort. He told him that Ragatha had golden blood and that he could get rich by… by killing her."

For a brief moment, McGonagall stood in stunned silence, her lips pressed into a thin line as she absorbed the information. Her usually stern expression darkened with a rare flicker of anger, and she straightened, her gaze sharpening as if she were preparing for battle.

"This is beyond serious," McGonagall said, her voice low and controlled, though a clear fury simmered beneath her tone. "If what you’re telling me is true, then Ragatha’s life is in grave danger. Voldemort doesn’t need much of an excuse to kill anyone, and if he believes she’s valuable in some way…"

Kinger took a step closer, his hands trembling. "Professor, we need help. We can’t do this alone."

McGonagall gave a curt nod, already moving toward the door. "You were right to come to me. We must act quickly. I will inform Dumbledore at once." She turned toward them, her expression softening for just a moment. "You’ve all done well to bring this to my attention immediately."

But just as she reached for the door, Zooble stepped forward, their voice tight with anger. "What about Jax? He’s the reason Ragatha is in danger in the first place. He needs to be punished for what he’s done."

McGonagall’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, her eyes blazed with anger. "Yes, Mr. Jax will most certainly face consequences for this. What he has done goes far beyond a prank—he has endangered the life of another student and conspired with the Dark Lord himself, whether knowingly or not."

Neville, who had been silent for the past few moments, spoke up, his voice shaky but determined. "He should be expelled, Professor. He didn’t just put Ragatha’s life in danger—he put the entire school at risk."

McGonagall nodded grimly, but her expression was conflicted. "Believe me, Mr. Longbottom, I would expel him without hesitation for such an act. But as much as it pains me to say it, the decision ultimately lies with Professor Dumbledore. He is the headmaster, and such a serious matter will require his judgment."

Zooble’s frustration bubbled over. "But Professor, Jax doesn’t care about anyone but himself! He needs to be expelled. Who knows what else he’ll do if he stays?"

McGonagall turned to face them, her expression stern but understanding. "I agree with you, Ms. Zooble. And I will make my case to Dumbledore for his expulsion. However, it is important to remember that Dumbledore values redemption and second chances. We will have to see what he decides."

The three students exchanged uneasy glances, the tension in the room growing heavier. While McGonagall’s anger at Jax was clear, they all knew that Dumbledore’s leniency in certain matters could complicate things. They just hoped that, this time, the severity of the situation would be enough to convince him.

McGonagall turned back to the door. "For now, our priority is Ragatha’s safety. Come with me. We will speak to Dumbledore together, and then we will do whatever it takes to get Ragatha back."

Without another word, the four of them hurried out of the office, heading straight for Dumbledore’s office. The corridors felt longer than ever, their footsteps echoing in the quiet as the weight of what was happening pressed down on them.

As they reached the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, McGonagall whispered the password—"Sherbet Lemon"—and the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance slowly moved aside. The spiral staircase revealed itself, and they ascended quickly, their hearts pounding in unison.

When they reached the top, McGonagall knocked once before pushing open the door. Dumbledore sat behind his large desk, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and concern as he saw the group enter. He stood up immediately, sensing the urgency in McGonagall’s posture.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said gently, his voice calm but serious. "What’s happened?"

McGonagall wasted no time, her voice steady but filled with urgency. "Headmaster, there’s been a terrible development. Ragatha has been kidnapped by Voldemort, and Jax… one of our students… is responsible for luring her into his grasp."

Dumbledore’s expression darkened, the usual twinkle in his eyes vanishing in an instant. He listened as McGonagall explained the situation, detailing Jax’s letter, the Death Eater mark in the courtyard, and the danger Ragatha was now in.

When she finished, Dumbledore’s face was grave, and he sat back down in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considered the gravity of the situation. "This is indeed a most serious matter," he said quietly, his gaze shifting to the students standing beside McGonagall. "Ragatha’s life is in danger, and we must act quickly."

Neville, his voice filled with urgency, stepped forward. "Professor, we can’t just let this happen. We have to get Ragatha back, and Jax… Jax needs to be expelled for what he’s done."

Dumbledore’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at Neville. "I understand your anger, Mr. Longbottom. Jax’s actions have caused great harm, and for that, he will face consequences. But expulsion is a weighty decision, one I do not take lightly."

Zooble’s fists clenched. "He put everyone at risk, Professor! He sent Voldemort a letter. How can you not see how dangerous he is?"

Dumbledore nodded, his expression serious. "I see the danger clearly, Ms. Zooble. And I will consider all factors before making my decision. But right now, our priority is Ragatha’s safety."

McGonagall looked at Dumbledore, her voice tense. "What do you propose we do, Albus?"

Dumbledore stood, his presence commanding yet calm. "We will gather the teachers, and I will send word to the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort may have Ragatha, but we will not let him keep her. I will lead the search myself."

He turned back to the group. "Go. Gather the others, and I will prepare for what must be done."

With that, the trio and McGonagall left the office, their mission clear: they needed to gather their friends and prepare for the battle ahead. There was no time to waste, for Ragatha’s life hung in the balance, and Voldemort would not wait for long.

The next morning, Gangle awoke with a sense of purpose that pushed aside the usual morning drowsiness. She sat up in bed, her mind already racing with thoughts of Ragatha. Today was the day. They were going to save her, with the help of Harry, Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix.

Gangle rose from bed, her ribboned body moving with determination as she got dressed, tying her ribbons tightly to prepare for the journey ahead. But as she adjusted her clothes, her eyes caught something in the mirror that made her pause.

It was the white blob—still floating within the spiral of her ribbons as it had been the day before—but this time, there was something different. From the blob, a tiny tail of red ribbon seemed to be sprouting, like a delicate tendril unfurling from within. Gangle stared at it in awe, her mind swirling with confusion and wonder. The tiny red ribbon swayed gently inside her, almost as if it were alive, and it took her a moment to realize what this meant.

The embryo growing inside her wasn’t just some strange magical occurrence—it was becoming a part of her, manifesting as ribbons just like her own body. The sight was both surreal and heartwarming, and despite the overwhelming danger surrounding Ragatha’s situation, a small part of Gangle felt a quiet joy at this new life growing inside her. She gently touched her ribbons, the reality of her pregnancy settling in even more deeply.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it now. Ragatha needed her, and she couldn’t let herself be distracted. With a deep breath, Gangle finished dressing and left the dormitory to meet up with the others.

---

Down in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, a group had already gathered, ready to set off on their mission to find and save Ragatha. Dumbledore stood at the head of the group, his presence commanding yet calm, while Professor McGonagall stood beside him, her sharp eyes filled with resolve. Harry was there too, his wand at the ready, and beside him, Pomni, Kinger, Zooble, and Neville were gathered, each of them wearing expressions of determination and worry.

The weight of what they were about to do hung heavily in the air. They were going up against Voldemort—a terrifying thought—but no one in the group was willing to back down. Ragatha was their friend, and they were going to bring her home, no matter the cost.

As Gangle approached, Harry spotted her and gave her a reassuring smile. "You ready?" he asked gently, his eyes reflecting both concern and support.

Gangle nodded, her ribbon arms trembling slightly but her resolve firm. "I’m ready," she said. "We have to do this."

Dumbledore stepped forward, addressing the group with his calm yet commanding voice. "The Order of the Phoenix has already been alerted and will meet us at the location where we believe Voldemort is holding Ragatha," he said. "We do not yet know the full extent of Voldemort’s plan, but we must be prepared for anything. He will not give her up willingly."

McGonagall nodded firmly, her face steely with determination. "We cannot afford any mistakes. We must stay together and act as one. Ragatha’s life depends on it."

Kinger’s hands floated nervously beside him, but he spoke with a rare confidence. "We’ll do whatever it takes. Ragatha wouldn’t leave us behind if it were any of us in danger."

Zooble, standing beside Kinger, gave a grim nod. "I’m with you. We’ll make sure she comes back."

Pomni, ever the anxious one, managed to put on a brave face, though her jester hat twitched nervously. "We have to. We can’t let Jax’s stupid prank end like this."

Neville, though pale with worry, had his wand out, ready for whatever lay ahead. "We’ll get her back," he said quietly, but with conviction.

With everyone assembled and ready, Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes serious but filled with a quiet confidence. "Then let us begin. We must move quickly—there’s no time to waste."

The group left the castle grounds, moving swiftly through the gates and into the surrounding countryside. The air was crisp with morning dew, and their breaths hung in the cold air as they marched forward, their wands ready for whatever Voldemort had prepared for them. Gangle kept close to Harry, her heart pounding with both fear and hope. She knew that this mission was dangerous—perhaps the most dangerous thing she had ever done—but with her friends by her side, she felt a flicker of courage deep within.

The journey to Voldemort’s hideout was fraught with tension, the group moving as one unit under Dumbledore’s careful guidance. The Order of the Phoenix was set to meet them at a nearby location, but as they got closer, the ominous feeling in the air grew stronger. Dark clouds seemed to gather overhead, casting long shadows across the ground.

Finally, they arrived at a clearing deep in the woods, where the ground was scorched and marked with the unmistakable symbol of the Death Eaters. The clearing was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustling of the trees in the wind. But the presence of something sinister was palpable, as if the very air was tainted with dark magic.

Dumbledore held up a hand, signaling for the group to halt. "We are close," he said quietly, his voice low but steady. "Voldemort is here."

Harry’s grip on his wand tightened, his jaw clenched in determination. "We’re ready, Professor," he said, his voice firm.

Gangle glanced around the clearing, her heart racing. She could feel her ribbons trembling with fear, but she forced herself to stay focused. Ragatha was here—somewhere. They just had to find her.

Suddenly, from the shadows of the trees, figures began to emerge—cloaked in dark robes, their faces obscured by masks. The Death Eaters had arrived.

McGonagall’s voice was sharp as she drew her wand. "Everyone, stay close! We can’t let them separate us."

As the Death Eaters advanced, Dumbledore stepped forward, his presence radiating authority. "This ends now," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "We have come for Ragatha, and we will not leave without her."

The dark figure of Voldemort appeared from behind the line of Death Eaters, his cold, snake-like face twisted into a cruel smile. "You think you can take her from me, Dumbledore?" he hissed, his voice filled with malice. "She is mine now."

But as the two forces prepared to clash, Gangle stood firm, her heart pounding with fear but also with hope. They had come this far, and they were not going to let Voldemort win.

The battle for Ragatha’s life had begun.

Ragatha jolted awake, her heart pounding in her chest, the cold metal of chains clinking softly as she struggled to move. Panic surged through her as she blinked in the dim, flickering light of the small, windowless room. The air was damp and musty, and the faint glow of a single flickering lamp illuminated the dark stone walls around her. The coldness of the chains wrapped around her wrists sent a shiver down her spine.

For a moment, Ragatha's mind was racing with fear and confusion. Where was she? How had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was the courtyard, then everything had gone dark. But as her panic began to rise, something caught her attention—something that made her heart skip a beat.

She looked down at her hands, expecting to see the soft fabric and stitches of her ragdoll form or even the cat-like paws from the transformation Jax had inflicted on her. But instead, what she saw were real, human hands—flesh and bone. Ragatha’s breath hitched, her fingers trembling as she flexed them, marveling at the sensation of feeling real skin for the first time in what felt like forever.

Her hands were no longer made of yarn, no longer the fragile, doll-like hands she had grown so used to. These were human hands, with smooth skin, faint freckles, and soft lines running across her palms. Ragatha swallowed hard, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. She reached up slowly, hesitantly, and touched her face.

Her fingers brushed against smooth, warm skin—no longer the cloth fabric she had grown so accustomed to in the Digital Circus. Her face was real. Her nose, her cheeks— everything . And her hair— real hair! —curled around her fingers, soft and red, not the stiff yarn she had lived with for so long.

Ragatha stared in awe, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she ran her hands over her human features, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her body was no longer that of a ragdoll or a cat-girl. She was human again. It felt almost impossible, like a dream she hadn’t allowed herself to believe in for so long. Tears welled up in her eyes as she let the reality sink in, her fingers still tracing the lines of her face, the feel of her hair.

But as quickly as the joy and wonder of her transformation washed over her, it was replaced by a sinking dread. Why? How was she human again? What had changed? She looked around the dim room, her eyes scanning the flickering shadows, and a sense of unease crept in. The chains around her wrists were still cold and heavy, and the fear began to return as she realized where she was. She might have her human body back, but she was far from safe.

Her mind flashed back to the courtyard, to the figure she had seen— Voldemort. He had been there, waiting for her. She had refused his offer to join him, and then… everything had gone black. Now, here she was, chained up in this dark, foreboding room.

A deep sense of dread filled her as she wondered what Voldemort wanted with her. Why had he given her human form back? Was it some kind of cruel trick, a way to manipulate her? Ragatha tugged at the chains binding her to the wall, her heart racing. She had to get out, she had to find a way to escape, but her wrists were bound tightly, and she was too weak to break free.

Her thoughts shifted to her friends—Kinger, Pomni, Gangle, Neville, Zooble… and Harry. Were they looking for her? Did they know where she was? Ragatha’s chest tightened as she thought of them, and a flicker of hope sparked inside her, even in this terrifying place. They had to be looking for her. They wouldn’t leave her behind. She knew they would come for her. They had to.

But the fear gnawed at her, nonetheless. What if Voldemort had some terrible plan for her? What if her friends couldn’t reach her in time?

As she sat there, chained to the wall, the flickering light casting eerie shadows across the room, Ragatha tried to keep herself calm, focusing on her breath, on the feeling of her newfound human body. She had her human form back, but what good was it if she couldn’t escape? What good was it if Voldemort was planning something far worse than she could imagine?

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to summon every ounce of strength and courage she had. She couldn’t give up—not yet. Ragatha had faced challenges before, survived things she thought were impossible. She wouldn’t let Voldemort break her, not when her friends were out there, not when there was still hope.

"Please," she whispered to the darkness, her voice trembling but filled with quiet determination. "Please, come find me."

And with that, she waited, her heart filled with a mix of hope and terror, knowing that somewhere out there, her friends were searching for her.

The forest clearing was alive with chaos as spells and curses flew through the air, the sharp cracks of magic reverberating off the trees. Dumbledore and his group had met Voldemort’s Death Eaters head-on, their determination burning bright as they fought to rescue Ragatha. Flashes of light lit up the darkened sky, and the tension was palpable, each side pushing the other to their limits.

Pomni, Kinger, Zooble, and Neville fought bravely alongside Harry, who stood resolute, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. They dodged curses, countered spells, and did their best to keep up with the relentless assault from the Death Eaters. Gangle stood near the back, her ribbons trembling, but she did everything she could to support her friends with protective charms and defensive spells.

In the midst of it all, Dumbledore faced off against Voldemort, their battle fierce and destructive. The ground beneath them scorched with the power of their magic, each of them casting spells so quick and deadly that they seemed to blur into one continuous onslaught.

But despite Dumbledore’s skill and wisdom, Voldemort’s raw power and cruelty were difficult to overcome. With a sweeping motion of his wand, Voldemort unleashed a powerful blast that sent Dumbledore flying backward, crashing into the ground with a thud. The others gasped as they saw their leader pinned down, Voldemort’s cold, snake-like eyes gleaming with malice as he loomed over Dumbledore.

Voldemort raised his wand, the tip glowing with a dark, cursed spell, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "This is where it ends for you, Dumbledore," he hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "You will die, and Hogwarts will fall without you."

Dumbledore, pinned to the ground, struggled to lift his wand, but the force of Voldemort’s magic kept him bound. His expression was calm, but there was a grim determination in his eyes as he prepared for the worst.

The others watched in horror, too far away to intervene in time. Harry took a step forward, his heart pounding with fear and desperation. "No!" he shouted, trying to get closer, but the Death Eaters kept him at bay with a barrage of spells.

Just as Voldemort began to cast the killing curse, a loud crack filled the air. From the shadows of the trees, several cloaked figures emerged, their wands raised, their expressions fierce.

The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

In an instant, the clearing was flooded with reinforcements—members of the Order, their wands alight with powerful spells. They wasted no time, charging into the fray, casting curses and shields with precision and force. The Death Eaters, caught off guard by the sudden influx of fighters, scrambled to defend themselves, but the tide of the battle had shifted.

Voldemort, sensing the change, faltered for a split second. His eyes flicked to the approaching members of the Order, and with a snarl of frustration, he released Dumbledore from his magical grip. He glanced back at the group, his dark eyes narrowing in cold fury.

"This is not over," Voldemort spat, his voice filled with venom. "You may have delayed me today, but you cannot stop what is to come."

And with that, Voldemort raised his wand and disappeared into thin air, vanishing into the night with a loud crack, leaving his Death Eaters to flee in disarray.

As the dust settled and the darkened sky began to clear, the group breathed a collective sigh of relief. The Order had arrived just in time, and Voldemort had been forced to retreat. But the weight of his parting words hung heavily in the air—this battle was far from over.

Dumbledore slowly rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his robes. His face was lined with exhaustion, but his eyes were steady as he surveyed the aftermath of the fight. The members of the Order gathered around him, offering support as they checked on one another.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Harry asked breathlessly as he rushed to Dumbledore’s side.

Dumbledore gave a weary nod, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I am, thanks to the Order’s timely arrival." He turned to the other members of the group—Pomni, Kinger, Neville, Zooble, and Gangle, all of whom looked worn but determined. "You fought bravely, all of you."

Zooble, still breathing heavily from the fight, wiped sweat from their brow. "I thought… that was it for a second," they muttered. "I didn’t think we’d make it."

Pomni nodded, her jester hat twitching as she tried to steady her racing heart. "But he’s gone, for now. Do you think we’ll have to face him again, Professor?"

Dumbledore’s face grew solemn, his blue eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "Voldemort is not one to retreat easily. We will likely face him again, but for now, we have a more immediate concern." His gaze hardened as he looked toward the direction Voldemort had fled. "Ragatha."

Neville, still shaken but resolute, stepped forward. "We can’t leave her with him. We have to get her back."

Dumbledore nodded firmly. "Indeed. But Voldemort will not keep her for long. We must act quickly, before he has the chance to take her further away."

With a renewed sense of urgency, the group gathered their strength and prepared for the next step in their mission. The battle might have ended for now, but the real fight—the fight to save Ragatha—was just beginning.

The group rushed through the dense forest, their hearts pounding with renewed hope as they spotted the looming silhouette of a castle in the distance. It was an old, crumbling structure, half-shrouded in mist, its towering spires jutting into the gray sky like jagged teeth. Voldemort’s castle. After his hasty retreat from the battle, it seemed that the Dark Lord had abandoned the place, likely in fear of the Order of the Phoenix catching up to him. But if they were lucky, Ragatha was still inside, waiting— hoping —to be rescued.

Harry, Pomni, Kinger, Zooble, Gangle, Neville, McGonagall, and Dumbledore hurried toward the castle, their pace quickened by the urgency of the situation. Every step brought them closer, and every second felt like an eternity, knowing that Ragatha was somewhere inside, possibly terrified and alone.

As they approached the towering iron doors of the castle, Dumbledore raised his wand, and with a flick of his wrist, the doors groaned open, creaking ominously as they swung inward. The group entered the dark halls, the eerie silence pressing in on them as they moved through the corridors. The air was heavy with the lingering presence of dark magic, but there was no sign of Voldemort or his Death Eaters. He had truly abandoned the place.

“Ragatha!” Neville called out, his voice echoing through the empty halls, his worry mounting with every step.

“Ragatha, where are you?” Pomni’s voice followed, her tone filled with desperation. They had come so far—they had to find her.

---

Meanwhile, Ragatha sat chained to the wall of her cell, her heart racing as she heard the distant creaking of the castle doors. At first, her stomach lurched with fear, thinking Voldemort had returned to do whatever he had planned for her. But then, she heard it—a voice, faint but unmistakable.

"Ragatha!"

Her breath caught in her throat. It was Neville’s voice. And then another, Pomni’s, calling her name again. Ragatha’s heart surged with hope, and tears filled her eyes as she realized that her friends had come for her. They were here!

“Here! I’m here!” Ragatha screamed, her voice raw with desperation as she struggled against the chains. She screamed as loud as she could, trying to draw their attention to her location. “I’m in here! Please, help me!”

---

Pomni’s head snapped up, her wide eyes filled with relief. “Did you hear that?” she asked, turning to the others.

Neville nodded, his heart leaping in his chest. “That’s Ragatha! She’s close.”

Without another word, the group hurried through the twisting corridors of the castle, following Ragatha’s voice as it echoed through the halls. Dumbledore led the way, his wand held high as they searched for the source of the sound.

Finally, they reached a heavy, locked door at the end of a long corridor. Ragatha’s voice was coming from behind it, her screams of desperation growing louder with each second. Dumbledore wasted no time. He raised his wand and muttered an unlocking spell, his voice calm but powerful. The door shook, and with a loud click , the lock released, and the cell door flung open.

Inside, Ragatha was chained to the wall, her eyes wide with shock and relief as she saw her friends standing in the doorway. Tears streamed down her face as she realized they had come for her—they had found her.

“Ragatha!” Pomni rushed forward, her eyes filling with tears as she reached out for her friend. “You’re safe now. We’re here.”

Kinger, Zooble, and Neville followed closely behind, their faces filled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. But as they stepped closer, they all froze for a moment, their eyes widening in shock as they took in Ragatha’s appearance.

Her body—it was human .

Ragatha, no longer the stitched ragdoll they had come to know, stood before them with real, human hands, her face soft and warm, no longer made of fabric. Her red, curly hair framed her human face, and her freckled skin glistened faintly in the dim light. She looked down at herself, almost in disbelief, and then back at her friends, her voice trembling.

“I’m… human again,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and emotion. “Voldemort… he did something. He changed me back. But I don’t know why.”

The group stood there in stunned silence for a moment, unable to process the miracle that had occurred. They had come to save their friend, but in doing so, they had found her transformed—returned to the form she had once thought was lost forever.

Neville was the first to move, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Ragatha’s arm. “You’re really back,” he said softly, his eyes wide with wonder.

Kinger, still in shock, nodded slowly. “I can’t believe it… but it’s you. The real you.”

Pomni, her voice shaking with emotion, hugged Ragatha tightly. “We thought we lost you. But you’re really here. You’re you again.”

Gangle, standing at the back, was silent for a moment, her ribbons trembling slightly with a mixture of emotions. She stepped forward, her voice quiet but filled with relief. “You’re safe now, Ragatha. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Dumbledore, standing at the door, watched with quiet relief as the group reunited. His wise eyes flickered with understanding as he studied Ragatha’s new form. “It seems Voldemort, in his twisted plans, has returned you to your true form,” he said softly, his voice thoughtful. “But his intentions were likely far from benevolent. We must be cautious.”

Ragatha nodded, still overwhelmed by the events that had unfolded. “I don’t know why he did this,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I’m so glad you found me. I was so scared…”

Harry stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now, Ragatha. We’ll protect you. Voldemort’s gone, and we won’t let him come near you again.”

Ragatha looked around at her friends, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. They had come for her, even when all hope seemed lost. And now, with her human body restored, she felt a renewed sense of strength and determination. She wasn’t just a victim of Voldemort’s cruel game—she was a survivor, and with her friends by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The group, now united and whole, made their way out of the castle together, their hearts filled with relief and hope. The battle had been won, and Ragatha had been saved. But they all knew that this was just one victory in a larger fight against Voldemort—and the war was far from over.

But for now, they had each other. And that was enough.

Chapter Text

Jax woke up the next morning, still lounging in his bed in the Slytherin dormitory, a smug grin plastered across his face. The events of the past few days had been chaotic, and while everyone else seemed to be running around in a panic, Jax had spent most of the time watching the drama unfold from a distance, entertained by the chaos he had set into motion. He had been sure that his latest prank—luring Voldemort into believing Ragatha was valuable—would shake things up, but he never imagined it would go this far.

He stretched lazily, about to roll over and go back to sleep, when something caught his eye—a letter, neatly placed on the foot of his bed. His grin faltered as he sat up, picking up the letter and noticing the official Hogwarts seal on it. His cocky confidence flickered for just a moment as he tore it open and scanned the contents.

The letter was short, written in Dumbledore’s unmistakable, elegant handwriting:

"Mr. Jax,

Meet me in my office immediately. This matter cannot wait.

—Professor Dumbledore"

Jax’s grin slipped completely. Dumbledore? He figured he might get a slap on the wrist for his prank, maybe detention, but Dumbledore summoning him directly? That was unexpected.

Still, Jax shrugged it off, lazily dragging himself out of bed and heading to the headmaster’s office. He wasn’t too worried—after all, what could Dumbledore really do to him? This whole world was part of the "adventure" Caine had sent them on, and eventually, he’d just return to the Digital Circus once the fun was over. Right?

As he made his way through the winding corridors of the castle, Jax kept his usual smirk, though a small seed of doubt began to form in the back of his mind. When he finally reached the entrance to Dumbledore’s office, he stood before the stone gargoyle, muttered the password (“Sherbet Lemon”), and watched as the staircase revealed itself.

Stepping into Dumbledore’s office, Jax looked around with mild curiosity. The usual twinkling trinkets and portraits of past headmasters lined the walls, and Dumbledore himself stood behind his desk, his face unreadable as he regarded Jax.

"Ah, Mr. Jax," Dumbledore said quietly, his voice calm but filled with an unmistakable seriousness. "Please, take a seat."

Jax strolled over to the chair in front of the desk, plopping down casually, still trying to maintain his confident facade. "What’s up, old man?" he asked, though his smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Here to tell me I’ve got detention for the next century?"

Dumbledore didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he studied Jax with those piercing blue eyes, as though weighing the very essence of his character. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Dumbledore finally spoke.

"Mr. Jax," he began, his voice soft but firm, "your actions over the past few days have endangered the lives of your fellow students and involved the Dark Lord in our affairs. You used deception, knowing full well that it would lead to harm. Do you understand the gravity of what you’ve done?"

Jax’s smirk wavered. He opened his mouth to make a flippant remark, but something in Dumbledore’s gaze stopped him. He shifted slightly in his seat, his usual cockiness faltering. "Look, I was just having some fun," Jax muttered. "No one actually got hurt, right? I mean, Ragatha’s fine, isn’t she?"

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You consider what you did 'fun'? Luring Voldemort to our doorstep, putting Ragatha’s life at risk, and causing chaos for your own amusement? This is not a game, Mr. Jax."

Jax swallowed, his bravado cracking under the weight of Dumbledore’s words. He hadn’t expected to feel… guilty, but the way Dumbledore spoke made it clear that this wasn’t just another harmless prank. Still, he forced a grin. "So, what’s the punishment? Detention? Cleaning out the trophy room? You gonna turn me into a frog or something?"

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change. "No, Mr. Jax. Your time at Hogwarts has come to an end. You are expelled."

Jax’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat as Dumbledore’s words sank in. " Expelled ?"

For the first time in a long while, Jax felt genuinely dumbfounded. "Wait—what do you mean, expelled? You can’t just kick me out! Where am I supposed to go? Caine wouldn’t let me return to the Digital Circus until this stupid adventure is over!"

Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him, his gaze unwavering. "That is not my concern, Mr. Jax. You have shown a complete disregard for the safety and well-being of your peers. Your actions have left me no choice. You are no longer welcome at Hogwarts."

Jax’s mind raced, his usual quick wit failing him for once. "But… where am I supposed to go? I—"

Dumbledore’s voice remained steady, but there was no warmth in his tone. "You will need to figure that out for yourself. But you will not step foot in these halls again."

Jax sat there, frozen in disbelief. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had always been able to talk his way out of trouble, always been able to laugh off the consequences. But now… now he was being cast out, and the weight of what he had done began to settle on him in a way that made his stomach churn.

For once, Jax had no snarky remark, no sarcastic retort. He stood up slowly, his usual cocky grin completely gone. He cast one last glance at Dumbledore, hoping for some kind of reprieve, but the headmaster’s expression remained resolute.

Without another word, Jax turned and walked out of the office, his footsteps echoing down the spiral staircase. He felt lost, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Jax didn’t have a plan, didn’t know where he was supposed to go. And the realization hit him hard: he was on his own now.

The halls of Hogwarts, which had once been filled with laughter and mischief, now felt cold and empty as Jax walked through them for the last time.

Gangle and Harry made their way through the halls of Hogwarts, the tension from the recent battle with Voldemort still hanging in the air, but today their focus was on something far more personal. Gangle’s ribbons fluttered with a mix of anxiety and excitement as they approached the hospital wing. It had been a few days since Gangle had first found out about her pregnancy, and Madam Pomfrey had advised them to return after a few days to check on the progress of the embryo.

Harry walked beside her, offering silent support with his hand resting gently on one of her ribboned arms. "You nervous?" he asked softly, sensing the swirling emotions within her.

"A little," Gangle admitted, her ribbons swaying as she glanced down. "But I’m also… excited? It’s just all so surreal, you know?"

Harry nodded, giving her a warm smile. "Yeah, I get it. But we’ll take it one step at a time, okay? Madam Pomfrey said everything looked good last time, so let’s hope for more good news today."

When they arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for them, her expression kind but professional as always. She gestured for Gangle to sit on one of the beds, and Harry took a seat next to her, his hand never leaving hers.

“Good morning, Gangle, Harry,” Madam Pomfrey greeted, her voice soothing as she prepared her instruments. “How are you feeling today, Gangle?”

Gangle took a deep breath, her ribbons trembling slightly. “I’m feeling okay. Just a little nervous about how things are progressing.”

Madam Pomfrey gave her a reassuring nod. “That’s perfectly normal. Let’s take a look and see how the little one is doing.”

With practiced ease, Madam Pomfrey began the examination, her wand glowing softly as she carefully checked Gangle’s unique body. As the glow intensified, the now-familiar white “blob” of the embryo appeared in the swirling ribbons of Gangle’s form. But this time, it was clear that the embryo had changed.

What had once been a small, undefined blob had now grown larger, about the size of a golf ball. It had also flattened slightly, as if it were slowly molding itself into something more recognizable—something that vaguely resembled the shape of a mask, though it was still far from complete. The red ribbon Gangle had seen sprouting from the embryo had also grown, now long enough to be visible within the swirling ribbons of her body.

Even more fascinating were the four tiny nubs of ribbon that had begun to branch out from the main red ribbon, barely perceptible but unmistakably there. They looked like the early stages of what would one day become arms and legs, though for now, they were only just beginning to form.

Gangle’s eyes widened as she stared at the embryo, her heart swelling with emotion as she realized how much the little one had grown in just a few days. “It’s… it’s so much bigger now,” she whispered, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. “It’s like she’s starting to take shape.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled gently, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “Yes, she is. And she’s developing quite nicely. The embryo is healthy and strong.”

Harry leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on the tiny, developing figure inside Gangle’s body. He looked both awestruck and emotional, his voice barely a whisper. “Wow… look at her.”

Madam Pomfrey finished her examination and straightened up, her expression soft as she delivered the news. “Everything looks perfectly healthy, Gangle. You’re carrying a strong and healthy baby girl.”

Gangle gasped softly, her ribbons fluttering with excitement and disbelief. “A girl… I’m having a girl,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Harry’s smile widened, and he squeezed her hand gently. “A little girl,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe and pride.

Tears of joy filled Gangle’s eyes as she looked at the embryo, now growing more real with every passing day. She had been so nervous, so uncertain about what was happening inside her body, but now, knowing that her baby was healthy and growing— and that she was a girl —made everything feel so much more real.

Madam Pomfrey watched them both with a gentle smile. “I’ll continue to monitor the pregnancy as it progresses, but for now, you can rest easy knowing that everything is on track. You’re doing wonderfully, Gangle.”

Gangle nodded, still overwhelmed with emotion. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I don’t even know how to put into words what this means…”

“You don’t have to,” Madam Pomfrey said kindly. “Just take care of yourself, and the rest will follow.”

As Gangle and Harry left the hospital wing, hand in hand, the weight of everything that had happened—the battles, the danger, the chaos—seemed to lift, if only for a moment. Their focus shifted to the future, to the little girl growing inside Gangle, and to the life they were building together.

And for the first time in a long time, Gangle felt at peace, knowing that her journey was just beginning.

Jax stood in the courtyard, pacing anxiously, his ears twitching with frustration. He had been expelled from Hogwarts, cast out with no plan and no idea what to do next. In a panic, he had resorted to the only option he could think of—calling for Caine. Surely the AI ringmaster of the Digital Circus would pull him back. After all, this was all part of the "adventure," wasn’t it?

“ Caine! ” Jax shouted, his voice echoing through the courtyard. “Come on, I know you’re watching! Take me back already!”

For several agonizing moments, there was only silence, the stillness of the courtyard pressing in on him. But then, with a flicker of energy, a glowing portal began to form in the air before him. Jax’s ears perked up, and he smirked. “About time,” he muttered.

The portal shimmered, revealing the familiar, colorful world of the Digital Circus on the other side. Caine’s cheerful, denture-headed form appeared, but there was something different this time. He didn’t step through the portal. Instead, he seemed to hover on the other side, almost as if there was an invisible barrier separating him from Jax.

Jax’s smirk faltered slightly. “Alright, Caine, enough with the theatrics. Take me back to the Digital Circus.”

But Caine, with his usual nonsensical grin, didn’t move. “Ah, Jax, there’s a little problem with that,” Caine said, his tone almost too casual for the gravity of what he was about to say. “You see, I can’t bring you back.”

Jax blinked, his tail twitching with annoyance. “What are you talking about? You’re right there. Open the portal and pull me back in already.”

Caine tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “Oh, this isn’t a portal, Jax. It’s more like… a Zoom call! You can see me, I can see you, but there’s no way to step through. You’re stuck where you are.”

Jax’s expression darkened, and he crossed his arms, trying to hold on to his usual cocky demeanor. “You’re messing with me. Just pull me back already.”

Caine’s grin widened, though there was a strange edge to his tone now, almost as if he were enjoying this moment more than usual. “I’m afraid I’m not messing with you, Jax. When Ragatha turned back into a human, it disrupted the connection between our worlds. She broke the rules, and now, well, there’s no bridge between here and there anymore. You’re stuck in the real world.”

Jax’s eyes widened, his confidence draining as the reality of Caine’s words sank in. “You’re lying,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual certainty. “You always play games. This is just another one of your tricks, right?”

Caine chuckled, the sound unsettling in its cheerfulness. “Oh, Jax, you’ll just have to figure things out on your own now. There’s no coming back to the Digital Circus for you.” He waved with his cane, and the portal—if it could even be called that—began to shimmer and fade.

“No, wait!” Jax’s voice cracked with desperation as the view of the Digital Circus started to dissolve. He reached out as if he could grab hold of it, but it was no use. “Caine! Don’t leave me here!”

Caine gave one last grin, his voice echoing through the courtyard. “Good luck, Jax. I’m sure you’ll find your way. Or not.”

And with that, Caine disappeared, leaving Jax standing alone in the courtyard. The reality of his situation hit him like a punch to the gut. He was stranded. No Digital Circus. No escape. Just… this .

Jax stood there, frozen in disbelief, until a harsh voice snapped him out of his daze.

“ Mr. Jax! ” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out as the door to the courtyard swung open. She stormed toward him, her face set in a deep frown. “What are you still doing here? You’ve been expelled, and you’re trespassing on Hogwarts grounds. Leave immediately. ”

Jax’s heart raced, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t have a smart remark ready. Instead, he shot McGonagall a glare, then turned and bolted, running as fast as he could out of the courtyard and through the castle grounds.

As he ran, his mind raced with thoughts of Caine’s betrayal, Hogwarts throwing him out, and the terrifying reality that he was on his own now. But amidst the panic, one thought burned hotter than the rest— Ragatha .

This was all her fault. If she hadn’t turned back into a human, none of this would’ve happened. She had broken the connection between the worlds, and now Jax was stuck here, alone and powerless. The anger twisted inside him, feeding his desperation.

As he fled Hogwarts, Jax’s mind locked onto one dark thought: Ragatha would pay for this.

He vowed that, no matter what it took, he would find a way to get revenge on her. She was the reason his entire world had come crashing down, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

Jax disappeared into the distance, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he plotted his next move.

As Ragatha and Neville walked toward the greenhouse for their Herbology class, the crisp morning air filled with the earthy scent of dew and soil. Ragatha, in her new human form, seemed to radiate a quiet confidence, though there was still a sense of awe in her eyes, like she was getting used to this body that no longer felt foreign. Her red curls bounced as she moved, her freckled face soft with concentration as she talked about the lesson ahead.

Neville, however, was distracted. He kept sneaking glances at her, his heart pounding harder than usual. Ragatha had always been kind and strong in her own way, but now, in her human form, there was something about her that made his chest tighten. She was beautiful—really beautiful—and Neville couldn’t help but notice it. He swallowed hard, forcing himself not to say anything. What if he ruined their friendship by saying something stupid? Besides, Ragatha probably didn’t see him that way.

They arrived at the greenhouse, where Professor Sprout was waiting for the class. The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins gathered around as Professor Sprout began explaining their lesson for the day.

“Today, class, we’ll be working with a very special plant,” Professor Sprout began, holding up a vibrant green plant with broad leaves. “Inside this plant is a unique liquid that, when ingested, has the rather amusing side effect of making the drinker spout random truths they’ve been holding back or lying about.” She grinned knowingly as the students exchanged nervous glances. “Of course, we’ll only be handling the plants carefully today, so there should be no issues.”

Professor Sprout demonstrated by tearing the plant in half, and a thick, glistening liquid oozed from it. She handed out the plants, instructing the students to take notes on its properties.

Zooble, sitting a few seats away from Neville and Ragatha, had a different plan forming in their mind. The Slytherins adored Draco Malfoy, but Zooble had a hunch that if the rest of the house found out some of the embarrassing truths Malfoy was hiding, maybe his perfect image would start to crack. Smirking, they eyed the plant in front of them and started formulating a way to get that truth serum into Malfoy’s water bottle.

Meanwhile, Malfoy was eyeing Neville. He knew Neville hated grape juice, and he had come to class prepared. Swapping Neville’s water bottle with his own—filled with grape juice—was going to be his little prank for the day. He could already imagine Neville’s face when he took a big swig and tasted the awful liquid.

Zooble watched Malfoy’s sneaky grin as he prepared to swap the bottles, and an idea sparked in their mind. As soon as Professor Sprout turned her back, Zooble quietly snapped the plant in half and let the liquid ooze into a small vial. Without anyone noticing, they slipped the truth serum into Malfoy’s water bottle. A satisfied smirk played on their lips as they imagined the embarrassment Malfoy was about to face.

However, things quickly spiraled out of control.

Zooble was still taking notes when they looked up and saw, to their horror, Malfoy swap his water bottle with Neville’s. They hadn’t anticipated that! Before they could stop him, Neville had already grabbed the bottle and taken a sip.

Neville immediately gagged, the taste of grape juice hitting him hard. He spit it out in disgust, but enough of the liquid had gone down his throat for the effects of the truth serum to kick in. His eyes widened in panic as he tried to stop himself from speaking, but his mouth began moving uncontrollably.

“I enjoy picking my nose!” Neville blurted out, his face turning beet red as the class turned to look at him.

Malfoy was thoroughly confused—this wasn’t part of the prank he had planned—but he couldn’t help but snicker at Neville’s confession. The entire class was staring now.

“I’m self-conscious about my small dick!” Neville shouted, his voice growing more panicked as he realized he couldn’t stop the words spilling out. Laughter rippled through the Slytherin students, with Malfoy nearly doubling over from amusement.

Zooble, meanwhile, stared in a mix of horror and guilt, realizing that their plan to humiliate Malfoy had completely backfired. Neville’s secrets continued pouring out.

“I think Ragatha is hot!” Neville’s face turned a deep shade of crimson as Ragatha’s eyes widened in surprise. “I have a crush on Ragatha! I want to kiss Ragatha!”

At this, Ragatha’s cheeks flushed, and she stood frozen in shock, her mind reeling. She glanced at Neville, whose eyes were desperately avoiding hers as his mouth continued to betray him. The truth serum was in full effect, and there was no stopping it.

Malfoy, even though his original plan hadn’t worked out, was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. “Well, well, Longbottom,” he sneered, “seems like you’ve been keeping a few secrets from us, haven’t you?”

Neville’s hands clamped over his mouth as he struggled to regain control, but it was no use. The class was now in fits of laughter, and even some of the Hufflepuffs were giggling nervously.

Ragatha, still processing everything Neville had just said, felt a strange mix of emotions. She had always liked Neville—he was kind and gentle—but hearing him confess his feelings in such a blunt, uncontrollable way had taken her by surprise. She wasn’t sure how to react, but seeing him so humiliated tugged at her heart.

Before things could get any worse, Professor Sprout, having noticed the commotion, hurried over. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, looking between the laughing students and the clearly distressed Neville.

Zooble quickly slumped down in their seat, trying to avoid attention, while Malfoy tried to stifle his laughter. Ragatha, however, stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Neville’s arm. “Professor,” she said, trying to ease the tension, “I think Neville needs a moment. Maybe some water that isn’t… grape juice.”

Professor Sprout looked between Neville and Ragatha, her face softening with concern. “Alright, Neville, let’s get you sorted. Come with me to the back of the greenhouse.”

As they walked away, Neville kept his head down, mortified by everything he had just confessed. Ragatha stayed close, her mind still racing with what he had said. She didn’t know how to feel just yet, but one thing was clear: Neville’s accidental confessions had changed something between them.

And back in the greenhouse, Zooble sat in silence, cursing their failed plan while Malfoy, for now, reveled in his small victory.

As Zooble sat back in their seat, processing the chaotic events that had just unfolded, they suddenly spotted something strange out of the corner of their eye. Pomni was crouching near the back of the classroom, half-hidden behind one of the tall potted plants. Zooble frowned in confusion. Pomni wasn’t supposed to be in this class—she had been assigned to a completely different subject at this time.

Before Zooble could react or question why Pomni was even there, Pomni quickly darted toward Draco’s desk, her movements quiet but determined. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, Pomni grabbed the nearest plant, expertly snapped it open, and poured the oozing truth serum into Neville’s water bottle—the same bottle that Draco had swapped with earlier. Her actions were fast and precise, and in a matter of seconds, she had slipped out of the room just as quickly as she had entered.

Zooble blinked in surprise but couldn’t help but smirk. It seemed Pomni had her own plan, and whatever it was, it was about to get very interesting. Zooble had a feeling that whatever Pomni had just done was going to make Malfoy’s day much worse.

As the other Slytherins gathered around Draco, still laughing about Neville’s earlier confessions, Malfoy basked in the attention, his cockiness growing with every passing second. The other students, unaware of what had really happened, assumed that the truth serum prank had been Malfoy’s idea all along.

“Well, of course it was my idea,” Malfoy lied, puffing out his chest with pride as he took the credit. “What can I say? I’m always one step ahead.”

Zooble couldn’t resist the smug grin that spread across their face. They sat back and waited, knowing full well what was about to happen. This was going to be good.

As the Slytherins continued to praise Malfoy, he reached for Neville’s water bottle, which was now sitting innocently on his desk. Without a second thought, and wanting to show off his bravado, Malfoy took a large gulp from the bottle, unaware of what Pomni had just done.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Malfoy continued to smirk confidently, clearly pleased with himself. But then, his face twisted with confusion as the familiar effects of the truth serum began to take hold.

The first truth slipped out of his mouth before he could even register what was happening. “The truth serum wasn’t my idea,” Malfoy blurted out, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what was happening.

The Slytherins stopped laughing and looked at him in confusion, their amusement slowly morphing into disbelief as more embarrassing confessions spilled from Malfoy’s lips.

“I still wear diapers,” Malfoy confessed, his face turning a bright shade of red as the words came out against his will. The other Slytherins stared at him, their eyes growing wider as they tried to process what they were hearing.

“I hate everyone in Slytherin. They’re all stupid and weird.” Malfoy’s voice rose, panic setting in as he tried to stop himself from speaking, but it was no use. The truth serum had taken full effect, and his reputation was unraveling before his very eyes.

Laughter erupted around the room as the other Slytherins began to realize what was happening. Their leader, their proud and untouchable Draco Malfoy, was spilling every embarrassing secret he had.

But the final confession was the one that sealed his fate.

“I once took poop from the toilet and put it on an ice cream cone and then ate it.”

The classroom fell into stunned silence for a brief moment, and then the room erupted into the loudest laughter yet. Even the Hufflepuffs, who had been trying to stay quiet, couldn’t hold back their amusement. Malfoy’s face turned beet red as he realized what he had just said, and his wide eyes darted around the room, filled with a mix of horror and humiliation.

Zooble, who had been watching the whole thing unfold with quiet satisfaction, leaned back in their seat, smirking with amusement. The tables had turned in the most deliciously satisfying way possible, and watching Malfoy’s carefully crafted reputation crumble was more satisfying than they could’ve imagined.

Even Ragatha, who was normally the kind-hearted one in the group, couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across her face. She covered her mouth, pretending to be shocked and embarrassed for Malfoy, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. Deep down, she was enjoying the moment just as much as everyone else. After everything Malfoy had put her friends through, this was karma in its purest form.

Malfoy, for his part, was desperately trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, but it was too late. The other Slytherins were in hysterics, and no amount of backtracking could erase what he had just confessed.

“Enough! Everyone, settle down!” Professor Sprout’s voice rang out as she returned to the front of the classroom with Neville. But even she couldn’t completely hide the amusement in her eyes as she glanced at Malfoy, who was now trying to sink as low as possible in his seat.

As the laughter slowly died down, Malfoy sat there, humiliated and seething with anger. He had no idea how this had happened, but one thing was for sure: this wasn’t over.

During lunch break, Zooble found Pomni sitting at the edge of the courtyard, looking more withdrawn than usual. Her jester hat drooped, and she kept fidgeting with the corners of her sleeves, a clear sign something was bothering her. Zooble, feeling curious after the spectacle in Herbology, approached her with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, Pomni,” Zooble said, crossing their arms as they leaned against the stone wall. “That stunt in Herbology with Malfoy… I saw you sneaking in there. Want to tell me what happened?”

Pomni glanced up, guilt etched across her face. She hesitated for a moment before sighing, clearly conflicted. “Yeah… I guess you saw. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that, but…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

Zooble tilted their head, waiting patiently. “Go on.”

Pomni took a deep breath, her voice low and filled with guilt as she explained what had happened. “It all started when Professor Snape gave me a letter to deliver to Professor Sprout. I was in Potions class when he told me to take it, so I headed over to the Herbology classroom. But as I got closer, I heard everyone inside laughing at Neville.”

Zooble’s face tightened, their usual amused expression replaced by a more serious one. “Malfoy, right?”

Pomni nodded, her eyes flickering with frustration. “Yeah… I peeked through the door, and I saw Neville. He looked so humiliated, and it made me sick. I knew Malfoy had done something—his grin was practically glowing with pride.” Pomni looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers nervously. “I was about to leave, but then I saw the truth serum plant. I’d read about it before in one of my books, and I knew that’s what had made Neville start confessing all those embarrassing things.”

Zooble was listening intently now, their posture straightening. “So you decided to…?”

Pomni nodded again, looking almost ashamed. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m usually so shy and nervous, but when I saw that plant and Malfoy’s smug face, I just… I don’t know. It felt like the perfect opportunity, like it was a sign. So I snuck inside when no one was looking and poured some of the serum into Neville’s water bottle. I knew Malfoy would try to switch it back on Neville, so I figured… why not let him have a taste of his own medicine?”

Pomni’s voice grew quieter as she spoke, as though she was still trying to convince herself that it was okay. “I didn’t think it would go that far. I just wanted him to feel a little embarrassed… but then he started saying all those things.”

Zooble chuckled, shaking their head. “Oh, Pomni, you don’t need to feel guilty. Draco Malfoy had it coming for a long time.”

Pomni glanced up at Zooble, her eyes wide with uncertainty. “But… what if I made things worse? What if—”

Zooble cut her off with a wave of their hand. “Trust me, you didn’t make anything worse. In fact, you did everyone a favor. Malfoy’s been strutting around like he owns this place, treating people like trash. He deserved every second of that humiliation.”

Pomni blinked, her expression softening slightly. “You really think so?”

Zooble smirked, nodding. “Absolutely. Look, what you did was give Malfoy a taste of what it’s like to be on the receiving end of one of his pranks. And honestly? It was about time someone put him in his place.”

Pomni’s shoulders relaxed, and for the first time since the incident, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I guess you’re right. He was being awful to Neville, and it wasn’t fair.”

Zooble grinned. “Exactly. Besides, the look on Malfoy’s face when he started spouting off those confessions? Priceless. Don’t feel bad, Pomni. You pulled off something amazing.”

Pomni let out a quiet laugh, the tension in her body easing as she looked up at Zooble. “Thanks, Zooble. I was feeling really bad about it, but… maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“You shouldn’t,” Zooble said firmly. “Malfoy deserved every bit of that. And if you ask me, he probably won’t be so smug for a while now.”

Pomni nodded, her confidence slowly returning. “You’re right. It wasn’t as bad as I thought… and maybe Malfoy will think twice before he humiliates someone again.”

Zooble grinned. “Exactly. So, no more feeling guilty, okay?”

Pomni’s smile grew wider, and she gave a small nod. “Okay. No more guilt.”

With that, Zooble gave her a pat on the shoulder and stood up straight, feeling satisfied that they had helped lift Pomni’s spirits. As they walked back toward the Great Hall for the rest of their lunch, Pomni’s heart felt lighter, knowing she had stood up for her friends—even if it had been in her own sneaky way.

That evening, Pomni returned to the quiet, book-lined Ravenclaw common room. The flicker of the fireplace cast soft shadows across the walls, and most of the other Ravenclaws were studying or reading. But something was off—Kinger wasn’t there. He was always back by now, usually tucked away in his pillow fort or rambling on about his insect collection. Pomni furrowed her brow, scanning the room again. Where was Kinger?

Curious and a bit uneasy, she walked over to the window, peering out into the dusk. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw something huge moving near the edge of the forest. Squinting, Pomni’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what she was seeing: a massive tarantula, its hairy legs the size of tree trunks, slowly inching its way toward the castle.

But what really made her panic was that Kinger was standing right in front of it.

"Kinger!" Pomni gasped, her voice a mix of shock and fear. Without wasting another second, she raced down the stairs and out of the castle, her heart pounding in her chest. As she neared the courtyard, her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. What was Kinger thinking? That thing could crush him!

But when Pomni finally reached the scene, she skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief. The giant tarantula had its massive head bent low to the ground, and standing directly in front of it was Kinger. But instead of running in terror or fighting the creature off, Kinger was… petting it. His floating hands gently stroked the tarantula’s furry head, as if it were a harmless kitten.

Pomni's mouth hung open, speechless as she watched Kinger hum to himself while the giant spider leaned into his touch.

"K-Kinger!" Pomni stammered, her voice catching in her throat. "What are you doing ? That thing—it's—"

Kinger turned around, completely calm and smiling in his usual, slightly off-kilter way. "Oh, Pomni! I didn’t see you there!" He floated closer to the massive tarantula’s head, giving it another affectionate pat. "I’d like you to meet Barbara."

Pomni blinked, utterly dumbfounded. "Barbara…?" she echoed, staring up at the tarantula, which seemed to respond to its name by curling its legs slightly closer to the ground. "You mean this… giant spider is your pet ?"

Kinger nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! Isn’t she lovely? I found her wandering near the edge of the forest, and we just clicked, you know? She’s surprisingly gentle, and, well, I’ve always been a fan of insects, haven’t I? Spiders aren’t technically insects, but close enough!" He grinned, seemingly oblivious to Pomni’s still-present shock.

Pomni took a hesitant step closer, her eyes never leaving the tarantula’s massive, gleaming eyes. "Kinger, I… I don’t know what to say. How are you not terrified of this thing?"

Kinger shrugged, his floating hands continuing to pet Barbara as the tarantula settled even more comfortably at his feet. "Oh, Barbara’s harmless! She’s just misunderstood. People always freak out when they see a spider, but I see her for what she really is—a gentle giant." He patted Barbara’s head once more, and the spider seemed to make a soft clicking noise, almost like a purr.

Pomni’s racing heart finally began to slow down as she watched the bizarre scene unfold. Somehow, against all logic, Kinger had befriended a massive tarantula, and the creature seemed completely docile around him. She let out a shaky breath, trying to make sense of it all.

"You’re… serious," Pomni said, still in disbelief but beginning to smile just a little. "Barbara is your pet ."

Kinger nodded again, looking proud of himself. "Yep! I’ve always wanted a pet, and she’s perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she stays outside the castle. I don’t think anyone in Ravenclaw would appreciate her roaming the halls."

Pomni couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. "Kinger, this is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. But… I guess if anyone could befriend a giant tarantula, it’d be you."

Kinger chuckled, his floating hands giving a little wave. "Thanks, Pomni! I knew you’d understand."

With a final pat on Barbara’s head, Kinger floated back toward Pomni, and the two of them stood side by side, watching as the giant tarantula slowly turned and began to skitter back toward the forest, her massive legs moving gracefully across the ground.

"Well," Pomni said, shaking her head with a smile, "I guess that’s one way to end the day."

Kinger grinned. "Barbara and I will visit again soon! She loves the open fields."

Pomni laughed, still trying to process everything. "Just… make sure she stays outside the castle, okay?"

"Deal!" Kinger said cheerfully, and the two of them began walking back toward the castle, leaving the bizarre sight of a tree-sized tarantula behind.

Kinger and Pomni walked together through the dimly lit halls of the castle, the soft glow of the candles reflecting off the stone walls. As they made their way back to the Ravenclaw common room, the conversation turned light, with Pomni still shaking her head in amused disbelief over Kinger’s new "pet."

“I still can’t believe you actually tamed a giant tarantula,” Pomni said, laughing softly. “Barbara… She’s something else.”

Kinger chuckled, floating a little higher with pride. “She’s a good girl, really. Once you get past the fangs and all those legs, you see she’s just like any other pet.”

As they reached the common room entrance, the two of them stopped and exchanged their goodnights.

“Goodnight, Kinger,” Pomni said with a warm smile, still shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite process everything that had happened. “And… make sure Barbara stays in the forest.”

Kinger gave her a playful salute. “Goodnight, Pomni. Don’t worry, Barbara’s got a cozy spot in the forest. She’ll be fine.”

They split ways, with Pomni heading up to the girls’ dormitory, and Kinger making his way to the boys’ dormitory. Just before Kinger disappeared from sight, he glanced back out the window and saw Barbara slowly retreating into the darkness of the forest. He smiled to himself, content. Barbara was more than just a pet—she was a friend.

Kinger crawled into bed, his floating hands pulling the blankets up to his chin. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling happy that Barbara had a safe place to live, and that he had a connection with the strange creature.

---

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, Barbara skittered across the dark, quiet ground, making her way toward her nest. The night was cool, and the trees cast long, twisted shadows across the forest floor. But Barbara was focused, her massive legs moving gracefully as she approached a large hole in the ground—a carefully crafted burrow that served as her nest.

Barbara lowered herself into the nest, her large body settling into the soft earth. For a moment, she remained still, her many eyes blinking in the darkness as she surveyed the area around her. Then, slowly, she crawled out of the nest, moving back to admire what she had just created.

In the center of the nest were several large, glistening eggs—17 in total. Each egg was smooth and perfectly round, resting in a circle of soft earth that Barbara had carefully prepared. The sight filled her with a sense of accomplishment.

But as Barbara watched, something remarkable happened. The eggs began to crack, faint but distinct sounds of shells breaking filling the air. One by one, tiny creatures emerged from the eggs, their movements quick and precise. They were small, delicate versions of Barbara herself—spider-like creatures, but with a twist.

Each one had the body of a chess piece.

The tiny creatures scuttled out of their eggs, their spider legs moving in perfect coordination beneath small, carved chess pieces that looked identical to Kinger’s own floating form. Pawns, rooks, knights—all of them tiny, spider-like versions of the chess piece man that Barbara had befriended.

Barbara watched them with what could only be described as pride, her many eyes glimmering in the moonlight. The tiny chess-piece spiders moved in perfect unison, their legs clicking softly against the ground as they explored their surroundings for the first time.

The forest was quiet, save for the soft movements of the newly hatched creatures. Barbara stood guard over them, ensuring that her strange and wonderful brood would grow strong in their hidden nest.

And as the night wore on, the small, chess-like spiders skittered about, their tiny legs moving in perfect harmony, ready to follow in their mother’s steps and explore the world beyond the nest.

Kinger jolted awake, his floating hands twitching in the dark. A noise—soft at first but unmistakable—had pulled him from sleep. He blinked groggily, looking around the boys’ dormitory, wondering if he had imagined it. But then he heard it again, a soft scraping sound, like something climbing.

Curious and a little uneasy, Kinger floated out of bed and made his way to the window. His heart nearly stopped when he saw what was outside. Two massive, glistening eyes—Barbara's eyes—stared back at him, glowing faintly in the moonlight. She had scaled the castle wall, her large body clinging to the stones, her many legs gripping the surface with ease.

Kinger's heart raced. He had promised Pomni that Barbara would stay outside the castle. He had never imagined she'd climb the walls!

He scrambled out of the common room as quietly as he could, floating down the hall in a rush. As Kinger hurried outside, Barbara must have sensed him coming, because by the time he reached the courtyard, she had already crawled back down to the ground, her enormous form waiting at the edge of the forest.

But that wasn’t what stopped Kinger in his tracks.

Beside Barbara, there were tiny creatures—17 of them, to be exact. They moved in perfect synchronization, their spider legs clicking softly against the ground as they scuttled around Barbara’s feet. Kinger’s eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at.

The little chess pieces, each identical to him but smaller, moved with the same elegance as spiders. Their bodies were miniature versions of Kinger’s, some shaped like pawns, others like rooks and knights, but each one had a set of delicate spider legs that skittered about in perfect coordination.

Kinger's mouth fell open in shock. "Are those… my children?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Just then, a loud scream escaped from Kinger’s mouth as the full weight of the situation hit him. The babies turned their many eyes toward him, and Barbara, her massive body looming over the tiny chess spiders, tilted her head, confused by Kinger’s reaction. To Barbara, this was a beautiful moment—one of pride, a union of her and Kinger’s bond. She had brought life into the world, and she couldn’t understand why Kinger was backing away in horror.

Meanwhile, inside the castle, Pomni jolted awake at the sound of the scream. Her heart raced, and she quickly threw off the covers, running out of the girls’ dormitory. That scream—it had to be Kinger’s. Something was terribly wrong.

Pomni dashed down the stairs, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced toward the courtyard. When she reached the door, she froze, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the scene before her.

Kinger was standing, or rather, floating, just outside the castle, his hands raised in shock as he backed away from Barbara. And surrounding Barbara were the tiny creatures—each one a spider-like version of Kinger himself. Pomni’s eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the sight of the small chess pieces with spider legs, scuttling about the courtyard like something out of a nightmare.

“Pomni!” Kinger shouted, his voice shaky. “I… I don’t know what to do! Barbara… she… she had babies!”

Pomni’s jaw dropped as she stared at the scene in front of her. The tiny spider-chess pieces skittered around Barbara’s feet, their legs moving in sync as they explored the ground around them. Pomni couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horrifyingly adorable sight.

Barbara, meanwhile, seemed completely unaware of Kinger’s fear. To her, this was a moment of joy—she had created life, brought new little creatures into the world. She moved closer to Kinger, her massive legs delicately stepping forward, as if expecting him to share in her happiness.

But Kinger only floated further back, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Pomni, what do we do? I promised you Barbara would stay outside, and now… now this!"

Pomni, still in shock, took a hesitant step forward, her gaze flicking between Barbara and the scuttling babies. “I… I don’t know, Kinger. I didn’t expect this either.”

For a moment, the two of them stood frozen, watching as the tiny spider-chess pieces explored their surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the panic they had caused. Barbara let out a soft clicking noise, almost as if she were trying to reassure Kinger, but the tension in the air was thick.

“Kinger,” Pomni said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I think we need to figure out how to… handle this. Before anyone else wakes up and sees… this .”

Kinger nodded slowly, still staring at the tiny creatures with a mix of horror and fascination. "But… how? I don’t even know where to begin."

Pomni took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "Let’s start by getting them back into the forest. We can figure out the rest later."

Barbara, sensing the tension but not fully understanding it, hesitated for a moment, then began to gently herd her babies toward the edge of the forest. Kinger watched, still in shock, as the tiny chess-piece spiders followed their mother, their legs clicking softly on the stone ground.

Pomni and Kinger stood in silence for a long moment as the strange brood disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Finally, Pomni let out a shaky breath, rubbing her eyes as if trying to convince herself this wasn’t a dream.

“Well, Kinger,” Pomni said with a faint, exhausted smile, “I guess you’re a dad now.”

Kinger let out a nervous laugh, floating down to sit beside her. “I didn’t sign up for this…” he muttered, still in disbelief.

And as the night settled back into quiet, the two of them stared into the dark forest, wondering what the future held for Kinger’s unusual new family.

Chapter Text

That morning, Gangle woke with a wave of nausea rolling over her. She barely had time to sit up before she rushed to the bathroom, her ribbons fluttering behind her in a frantic swirl. She knelt beside the toilet, her stomach churning as she heaved into it, her body reacting to the changes happening inside her. She had been feeling off for the past few days, but this was different—stronger.

After a few moments, when the nausea subsided enough for her to think clearly, Gangle stood up and wiped her mouth. Despite the discomfort, she felt a familiar tug of curiosity, and she decided to check on the baby.

Gangle gently ran her ribboned arms over her stomach, focusing her thoughts as she had done before. The baby had grown noticeably larger since the last time she checked. Its head was now the distinct shape of a white mask, clear and shiny, and its red ribbons had branched out into proper arms and legs, small but fully formed. Gangle stared in awe at the little life growing inside her, overwhelmed by the strange beauty of it. It was surreal to witness her child taking shape like this.

But the awe was quickly interrupted by another wave of nausea, and she bent over the toilet again, her body rejecting the overwhelming sensations.

As she caught her breath, something else struck her—a memory, something she had almost forgotten. What day is it? Her thoughts swirled in confusion until she remembered: today was Quidditch tryouts. Harry had been talking about them all week, his excitement infectious. But now something didn’t sit right. All week?

Gangle froze, realization dawning on her. Caine should have come by now. He had promised that this “adventure” in the world of Hogwarts would only last a week, and after that, they would return to the Digital Circus. Yet, the days had dragged on, and there had been no sign of him. No sign that they were going back.

Gangle sighed, her heart heavy. She hadn’t really wanted to think about leaving, but now, the idea of staying here was clouded by uncertainty. She was sad, not only because Caine was late, but because deep down, she didn’t want to leave Harry. He had become so important to her, and the thought of saying goodbye made her stomach twist even more than the nausea had.

With that weight sitting heavy on her, Gangle returned to the dormitory, where Harry was just waking up, stretching and rubbing his eyes. He gave her a sleepy smile, but it quickly faded when he saw the somber look on her face.

“Gangle?” he asked, sitting up, his voice filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Gangle hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to say what she was feeling, but she knew she had to tell him the truth. She sat down beside him, her ribbons trembling slightly as she spoke. “Harry… I don’t know how to say this, but… I think I have to leave soon.”

Harry blinked, confusion and disappointment crossing his face. “Leave? But… what about Quidditch tryouts? You’ve been saying you’d come watch.”

Gangle’s heart ached at the thought, and her eyes welled with tears as she shook her head. “It’s not just that, Harry. I mean… leave leave. I don’t think I’m coming back after I go.”

Harry’s face fell, and a stunned silence hung between them. The weight of her words slowly sank in, and his confusion turned into something else—something deeper, like the floor had just been pulled out from under him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not coming back? Ever?”

Gangle’s lip trembled, and she looked down, trying to keep herself from crying. “Caine—the ringmaster of the Digital Circus—he was supposed to take us back after a week. That’s how this works. But… it’s been longer than that, and I don’t know why he hasn’t come. I just know that when he does, I have to go. And once I leave, I don’t think I can come back.”

Harry’s expression shifted from confusion to something like heartbreak. He sat there in stunned silence for a moment, staring at her, trying to process everything. He had known Gangle’s presence in this world wasn’t permanent, but hearing it now—knowing she was going to disappear from his life—made it feel so much more real. Too real.

“Gangle,” Harry murmured, reaching out to take her ribboned hand. “You’re really going? And there’s no way to stay?”

Gangle shook her head, tears finally spilling over. “I don’t think so. I want to stay, Harry. I want to stay with you, but… I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Harry’s hand tightened around hers, and he looked down, his own heart breaking at the thought of losing her. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, his voice barely steady. “You’ve become… I don’t even know how to say it. But I don’t want to lose you.”

Gangle closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

For a long, painful moment, they sat together in silence, their hands intertwined, both of them trying to hold onto the fleeting moments they had left.

Gangle and Harry were still locked in their shared silence, the weight of their impending separation hanging over them like a storm cloud, when suddenly, the door to the dormitory burst open with a loud bang . Ragatha stood in the doorway, breathless, her face pale and wide-eyed. In her hand, she clutched a crumpled letter, her fingers trembling as she held it out toward Gangle.

“Gangle!” Ragatha gasped, her voice shaking. “You have to see this. It’s… it’s from Jax.”

Gangle’s tear-filled eyes widened in surprise, and she exchanged a quick glance with Harry before reaching out to take the letter from Ragatha’s hand. Her ribbons trembled slightly as she unfolded the piece of paper, dread already building in her stomach. She began to read the letter aloud, her voice shaky:

"Ragatha,

You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. Because of you, the bridge between the Digital Circus and the Wizarding World has been broken, and there’s no way back. We’re stuck here, forever. And it’s your fault.

I promise you, Ragatha, I won’t let this go. You’ll regret this.

–Jax"

Gangle’s voice trailed off, the words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Harry’s expression shifted from sorrow to concern as he looked between Gangle and Ragatha, realizing the gravity of the situation. Ragatha, meanwhile, stood there, looking utterly bewildered and upset.

“He’s blaming me,” Ragatha said, her voice trembling with disbelief. “He’s blaming me for everything.”

Gangle stared at her friend, her mind reeling. “But… but how can this be your fault, Ragatha? None of this makes any sense.”

Ragatha shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “It’s not my fault! It’s Voldemort’s fault! He’s the one who kidnapped me, who turned me into a human! I didn’t ask for this! And it was Jax who sent that letter to Voldemort in the first place. How am I to blame for what happened?”

Gangle’s heart ached for Ragatha. She had already been through so much—the terror of being kidnapped, the confusion and shock of being transformed back into a human, and now this? To be blamed for something that wasn’t even her doing? It was cruel, unfair.

Harry, still sitting beside Gangle, frowned deeply, his protective instincts kicking in. “Ragatha’s right,” he said firmly, standing up to face her. “This is all on Jax. He’s the one who involved Voldemort, and Voldemort’s the one who did this to her. Blaming Ragatha is ridiculous. Jax is just trying to find someone else to pin the blame on.”

Ragatha let out a shaky breath, her fists clenched at her sides. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t ask for any of this, and now Jax is… he’s threatening me, blaming me for something that wasn’t my fault. And we’re stuck here because of him . He’s the one who ruined everything, not me.”

Gangle’s ribbons trembled as she stood up, moving over to Ragatha’s side and pulling her into a gentle embrace. “Ragatha, we all know it’s not your fault. You’ve been through enough already, and Jax is just trying to lash out. He’s angry because he messed everything up, and he can’t deal with the consequences.”

Ragatha leaned into Gangle’s hug, her body shaking with a mix of fear and frustration. “I just… I don’t know how to fix any of this. I don’t even know if we can fix it. What if we’re really stuck here forever?”

Gangle held her close, her own heart heavy with the uncertainty of it all. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But we’ll figure it out. We’ve always figured things out together.”

Harry, his brow furrowed in deep thought, stepped forward. “There has to be a way to rebuild the bridge between the two worlds. Maybe Dumbledore or someone else in the wizarding world can help us. We can’t just give up.”

Ragatha sniffled, her eyes full of worry but a flicker of hope sparked in her. “You really think so?”

Harry nodded firmly. “I do. But first, we need to deal with Jax. If he’s threatening you, we need to make sure he can’t do anything worse. We need to talk to Dumbledore.”

Ragatha nodded, her resolve slowly returning. “You’re right. We need help.”

Gangle squeezed Ragatha’s hand, her voice soft but full of support. “We’re not alone, Ragatha. We’ll face this together.”

Ragatha managed a small, grateful smile, though the fear still lingered in her eyes. The threat of Jax hung over them, and the uncertainty of whether they could ever return to the Digital Circus loomed like a dark shadow. But at least they had each other. And for now, that was something they could hold onto as they figured out what to do next.

With that, the three of them made their way out of the dormitory, ready to seek help from Dumbledore and confront the challenges ahead.

As they began to walk out of the dormitory, something hit them all at once—a realization, a truth that had been simmering beneath the surface for days. Why would they want to go back to the Digital Circus? For a moment, they stopped in their tracks, exchanging glances, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on their hearts.

For Ragatha, it felt like the chains of her former life had finally loosened. She had spent seven long years trapped in the body of a ragdoll, her emotions masked by stitched-on smiles and cheerful yarn hair. She hadn’t felt the warmth of human skin in so long that the sensation was almost foreign to her now—foreign, but wonderful. Being human again was amazing. Her red, curly hair, the freckles dotting her face, her real hands—these were things she had thought she’d lost forever.

And it wasn’t just her body. It was everything. For the first time in years, Ragatha didn’t feel like she had to hide behind a façade. She didn’t have to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine. Here, she had real friends, people who accepted her— all of her, even when things weren’t perfect. Neville was kind to her, genuinely kind, and he didn’t expect her to be anything but herself. Back in the Digital Circus, she never had someone like that. She had spent so long hiding her pain, forcing herself to be the “happy” one, but here? She could just be Ragatha again.

“I don’t want to go back,” Ragatha whispered, the truth of it suddenly overwhelming her. She looked at Gangle, her eyes wide with realization. “Why would I? I have everything I could’ve ever wanted right here.”

Gangle’s ribbons fluttered softly as she stared at Ragatha, her own thoughts swirling. In the Digital Circus, Gangle had been overlooked, hurt, and ignored. Even by Ragatha, despite their friendship. She had never told Ragatha how it felt when things got tough with Jax—how Ragatha would just put on that cheerful demeanor and change the subject, as if Gangle wasn’t really being hurt. It was like her pain didn’t matter because it happened every day anyway. She had never said anything, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference.

But here? With Harry? Everything was different. Harry had shown her care and protection in a way she had never experienced before. He didn’t brush off her emotions or try to change the subject when things got hard. He stayed with her, listened to her, held her when she needed it. Gangle had never felt so safe before, so accepted. In Hogwarts, she wasn’t just some broken mask—she was someone who mattered.

“I get it,” Gangle murmured, her voice soft but certain. “I don’t want to go back either.”

There was a strange, quiet understanding between them now, a realization that maybe—just maybe—this world was better for them than the one they had left behind. The Digital Circus had been a place of chaos, flashing lights, and overwhelming colors. It had been a place where people went mad, where everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of abstraction and insanity. There, they had been trapped in an endless loop of forced adventures and emotional numbness.

But Hogwarts? Hogwarts was real. The magic, the people, the relationships they were building—it all felt solid, like something they could actually hold onto. There was no insanity, no abstraction, no losing themselves to the madness of their surroundings. The air was calm, the world around them grounded. It was peaceful in a way they had never experienced before.

Harry, standing quietly beside Gangle, seemed to understand as well. He could see the shift in both of them—the way their eyes sparkled with hope instead of the dull acceptance of their past lives. He didn’t say anything, but his hand tightened around Gangle’s ribboned arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“Maybe,” Ragatha said slowly, almost as if she were afraid to say the words out loud, “maybe we don’t have to go back. Maybe we shouldn’t go back.”

Gangle nodded, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “Yeah… maybe this is where we belong now.”

The three of them stood there for a moment longer, the weight of their decision slowly settling into place. The Digital Circus was behind them, and while it had once been their prison, it didn’t have to define their future. Here, in the Wizarding World, they had found something real—something worth staying for.

With a new sense of purpose, they turned and walked back toward the heart of Hogwarts, leaving behind the shadows of their old lives. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, in a world that finally felt like home.

Jax stomped through the forest, his usual cocky swagger nowhere to be found. His head was low, his teeth clenched in frustration. All he could think about was Ragatha. He blamed her for everything. She had turned into a human, and now they were stuck. The bridge between the Digital Circus and the Wizarding World was broken, and it was all her fault—or so he told himself. His anger festered, fueling the dark thoughts swirling in his mind.

But as he trudged forward, something made him stop dead in his tracks. A figure stood ahead of him, cloaked in darkness, the unmistakable snake-like face of Voldemort staring down at him. Jax blinked, surprised but not scared—he was too angry to feel fear. He narrowed his eyes, waiting to see what this encounter was about.

"Jax," Voldemort’s voice hissed, smooth and calculating. "You seek revenge, don’t you? You wish to punish those who have wronged you… Ragatha, and all the others."

Jax’s ears perked up, and despite himself, a smirk curled on his lips. He crossed his arms, tilting his head in curiosity. "Go on."

Voldemort stepped closer, his long, bony fingers folding together in a way that suggested he was always plotting. "If you join me… become one of my Death Eaters… I will grant you the power to exact your revenge. On Ragatha. On anyone who has crossed you. You can finally make them pay."

Jax’s smirk widened into a grin. "Now that sounds like my kind of deal." He thought of all the ways he could torment Ragatha and the others, all the tricks and schemes he could pull off with the kind of power Voldemort was offering. "Alright, Voldemort. Count me in."

Voldemort’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Very well. Follow me."

With a swirl of his black cloak, Voldemort turned and began walking deeper into the forest. Jax followed, his anger now turning into excitement as he imagined the kind of revenge he could take. They walked for what felt like hours until they reached the ruins of Voldemort’s abandoned castle, standing tall and eerie against the darkening sky.

Voldemort led Jax inside, his voice low and dripping with malice. "I, too, have been wronged by that nasty doll," Voldemort sneered. "Well, I suppose she’s not a doll anymore, is she? No matter. She and the rest of her friends will suffer in due time. But first, the ritual."

Jax barely registered Voldemort’s words, too wrapped up in the idea of becoming a Death Eater, gaining unimaginable power, and taking down those who had made him feel powerless. His excitement grew with each step as they descended into the cold, dark depths of the castle, until finally, they reached a large cell.

Voldemort stepped aside, gesturing to the center of the room. "Step inside," he commanded, his voice smooth.

Jax didn’t hesitate. He walked into the cell, his smirk growing wider with every second. "So, what’s the plan?" he asked, turning back to face Voldemort. "What do I have to do?"

But as soon as Jax turned, the heavy iron doors of the cell slammed shut with a deafening clang. Jax’s smirk dropped instantly, replaced by confusion and then panic. He rushed to the door, banging on it with his fists. "Hey! What’s going on?!"

From the other side of the bars, Voldemort chuckled, a low, sinister sound. "Foolish boy," he hissed. "Did you truly believe I would waste my power on someone like you?"

Jax’s eyes widened, his hands gripping the bars as he tried to force the door open. "What are you talking about? You said I’d become a Death Eater!"

Voldemort turned away, his cloak swishing as he began to walk down the hall. "I said what I needed to say to get you here, nothing more. You are nothing, Jax. A mere puppet in my game. And now, you will stay here… rotting in this cell."

Jax’s heart raced as he watched Voldemort disappear down the dark corridor. "No, wait!" he shouted, his voice rising in desperation. "Come back! You said I could get revenge! You promised!"

But Voldemort only laughed, his voice echoing back through the stone walls. "Enjoy your revenge from behind those bars, Jax."

Panic flooded Jax’s mind. He yanked at the bars, tried forcing the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He was trapped. Alone. And powerless. He collapsed against the wall of the cell, his head falling into his hands. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He had been so sure he was going to win, but now he was stuck in a cage, just like he had been stuck in the Digital Circus.

And there was no way out.

Voldemort sat in his dimly lit chamber, methodically sorting through various vials of potions, each filled with swirling, ominous liquids. His mind was fixated on one thing— killing Ragatha. The Digital Circus had been a thorn in his side, a place where none of its inhabitants could truly die. Their digital avatars had made them invulnerable, and that was why Voldemort had been forced to turn Ragatha into a human. She was mortal now, no longer protected by her digital form. She had escaped before, but next time, there would be no escape.

As he carefully selected a vial filled with a shimmering green liquid, his thoughts turned to Jax. The cocky, troublemaking rabbit had been lured into Voldemort's grasp with promises of power and revenge, but Voldemort had no use for him as he was. His digital avatar, like Ragatha’s old form, was protected from the ultimate fate. That had to change if Jax was to serve any purpose in Voldemort’s plan.

A dark smirk curled on Voldemort's lips as he selected a different potion, one designed to strip away Jax's digital form and force him into the flesh and blood of a human—a form that could feel pain, bleed, and, most importantly, die.

Meanwhile, Jax sat hunched in the corner of his cell, his mind swirling with anger and fear. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, his situation growing more hopeless with each passing moment. He had been a fool to trust Voldemort, and now he was paying the price, locked away with no way out.

Suddenly, he heard a faint scraping sound near the base of the cell door. He snapped his head up, and his eyes went wide as a small vial was slipped through a narrow gap in the cell bars. The potion inside was a strange, shimmering liquid, and as soon as the vial touched the floor, it began to spill, the contents oozing out and spreading quickly across the cold stone.

Jax scrambled backward, pressing himself against the farthest corner of the cell, trying to get away from the spreading potion. But it was no use. The liquid seeped across the floor, creeping toward him until there was no escape. He watched in horror as the potion finally reached him, covering the floor entirely.

The moment the potion touched him, Jax felt a strange tingling sensation race through his body. Panic gripped him as he looked down, and to his shock, his body began to change.

His rabbit ears, the ones that had always been part of his digital avatar, slowly faded away, shrinking back into his head. His purple fur vanished, replaced by soft, pale human skin. Jax stared, his breath catching in his throat as purple hair began to sprout from his now-human scalp, falling in messy strands over his eyes.

His paws, which had been a signature of his cartoonish form, shifted painfully, morphing into human feet—bare and delicate against the cold stone. His yellow cartoon gloves, the ones that had always felt more like part of his body than an accessory, melted away, leaving behind slender human hands. For a moment, Jax felt a flicker of something familiar. This body… it wasn’t the same as his rabbit form, but it felt eerily like something from his past, something he had forgotten long ago.

Jax stared down at himself in shock. He was human again. He wore the same pink overalls, and his hair was still the same vibrant purple, but everything else about him had changed. The cartoonish features, the exaggerated limbs, all of it had been stripped away. He was real now, in every sense of the word.

A brief wave of relief washed over him. He wasn’t a rabbit anymore. That stupid body, the one that had mocked him with its silliness and absurdity, was gone. He was free from that form. For a split second, he almost felt like this transformation was a gift.

But the relief didn’t last.

A cold dread began to settle in his chest as he realized the deeper meaning behind this transformation. He wasn’t invincible anymore. He could bleed, he could feel pain, and—worst of all—he could die. The fear inside him grew, twisting in his gut as he stared at his new hands, now human, now vulnerable.

Jax stood in the center of the cell, his heart pounding in his chest. The potion had transformed him, and there was no going back. The fear that had been gnawing at him before was now a roaring storm, and he knew one thing for certain: Voldemort didn’t turn him into a human out of kindness.

This transformation wasn’t a second chance—it was a death sentence.

Jax backed up against the wall, the cold stone pressing against his back. His smirk was gone, replaced by the stark realization that he was in way over his head. Whatever Voldemort had planned for him, it wasn’t going to be good. And now, he didn’t have the protection of his digital form to save him.

For the first time in a long while, Jax felt real fear. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Jax stood frozen in the middle of the cell, his body trembling as the cold air bit at his newly human skin. The realization that Voldemort had betrayed him gnawed at his mind, but something far worse was beginning to happen. A soft, chilling laugh echoed through the stone walls—Voldemort’s laugh—mocking, sinister, filled with satisfaction.

Jax's heart pounded in his chest, his breath shallow and quick. He looked down, trying to make sense of what was happening, and that’s when he saw it. Blood. A thin trickle of crimson was sliding down his leg, pooling at his bare feet. His hands shook as he reached up to touch his face, and when he pulled them back, they were covered in blood. His blood.

Panic seized him, and for the first time in years, Jax felt real terror. He stumbled backward, crashing against the stone wall of the cell, his breathing becoming ragged. The pain came next, sharp and excruciating, as blood began to seep from every pore of his body, dripping onto the cold stone floor. His legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed into the growing pool of his own blood.

“Help!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Somebody! Please !” His cries echoed through the dark castle, but he knew—deep down—that no one was coming. He had burned every bridge, pushed everyone away. He had hurt too many people, and now, when he needed help the most, he was alone.

The blood continued to pour out of him, soaking his clothes, his overalls sticking to his pale skin. The sharp metallic scent filled the room, suffocating him, and his vision blurred with tears and pain. There was no escaping this. He was dying, and there was no one who cared enough to save him.

Through the haze of agony, Jax reached into his pocket with trembling hands and pulled out a small, battered notebook and a pen. He didn’t have much time—he could feel his strength fading—but there was something he needed to say, something he had never admitted before. Through tear-filled eyes and shaky breaths, he began to write, the words barely legible as his hand trembled.

Ragatha,

I’m sorry.

I know I’ve been terrible to you and to everyone. I’ve hurt people, made their lives harder. I’ve lied, manipulated, and done awful things just to get by. I thought I was better than all of you, that I could do whatever I wanted. But I was wrong. I realize that now. I’m not better. I’m just scared. I’ve always been scared.

And now… I think this is it. I don’t deserve anyone’s help. I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. But if you ever find this, I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I wish I could have been better. I wish I could have made things right.

Goodbye.

The words blurred as fresh tears dripped onto the page, smudging the ink. Jax set the notebook down on the blood-soaked floor, his hands trembling uncontrollably. The guilt that he had buried for so long finally broke free, washing over him like a tidal wave, overwhelming him with regret and sorrow.

He screamed again, the sound filled with pain and desperation, but it grew weaker with every breath. The blood continued to pool around him, his body growing colder by the second. His vision dimmed, the room spinning as the strength drained from his limbs.

Jax’s screams faded into silence as his voice grew hoarse, nothing more than a rasp in the dark. His body felt heavy, his eyelids drooping as his world began to blur and fade.

And then, slowly, his vision went dark.

The last thing he saw was the notebook, lying in the pool of blood, his final words etched into its pages.

And then there was nothing. No more pain. No more anger. Only darkness.

Ragatha awoke with a jolt that morning, her heart already racing before her mind could fully catch up. A letter sat on her bed, neatly placed as if waiting for her to open it. The elegant script on the envelope made her stomach twist in knots—it was from Dumbledore. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked up the letter and opened it. The message was simple:

"Ragatha, please come to my office at once. There is something important we need to discuss. – Professor Dumbledore."

A chill ran down her spine. Was she in trouble? She couldn’t think of anything she had done wrong, but her mind raced with possibilities. Had Voldemort returned? Was there something about her transformation into a human that had caused more problems than she realized? The fear of being expelled gnawed at her, and the weight of uncertainty hung heavily on her as she hurried out of bed and made her way through the castle halls.

By the time she reached Dumbledore’s office, her heart was pounding in her chest. The gargoyle guarding the entrance stepped aside at the whispered password, and the spiral staircase carried her up to the door, which felt impossibly tall and foreboding. She hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

Inside, Dumbledore sat at his desk, his expression heavy with sorrow. The usual twinkle in his eyes was dimmed, and the lines on his face seemed more pronounced. Ragatha’s heart sank even further at the sight of him. This wasn’t a simple meeting—it was something much worse.

"Professor?" Ragatha’s voice wavered slightly as she stepped into the room, unsure of what was about to happen. "Is… is everything alright?"

Dumbledore didn’t respond right away. Instead, he silently slid a small notebook across the desk toward her, his blue eyes filled with sadness. Ragatha froze, staring at the notebook before her. It looked worn and bloodstained, the pages crinkled with dried tears.

"Ragatha," Dumbledore began quietly, his voice gentle but filled with the gravity of the situation. "The Order of the Phoenix recently searched Voldemort's abandoned castle. They were looking for any signs of other victims, hoping to ensure that no one else had been trapped there, like you were."

Ragatha’s heart skipped a beat. She had thought she was the only one trapped, but as her eyes fell on the notebook, she felt a sickening sense of dread. "What… what did they find?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Dumbledore sighed softly, leaning forward with a sorrowful look in his eyes. "They found this notebook… and the body of someone you once knew. Jax."

Ragatha’s world seemed to slow down. The name hit her like a punch to the gut, and she felt the blood drain from her face. "Jax?" she echoed in disbelief. She couldn’t imagine it—Jax, the sarcastic, mischievous troublemaker, lying dead in some castle. It didn’t seem real.

With trembling hands, she reached for the notebook, carefully opening it to the first page. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the smeared ink, the tear-stained, bloodied pages. And then she began to read.

"Ragatha,

I’m sorry.

I know I’ve been terrible to you and to everyone. I’ve hurt people, made their lives harder. I’ve lied, manipulated, and done awful things just to get by. I thought I was better than all of you, that I could do whatever I wanted. But I was wrong. I realize that now. I’m not better. I’m just scared. I’ve always been scared.

And now… I think this is it. I don’t deserve anyone’s help. I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. But if you ever find this, I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I wish I could have been better. I wish I could have made things right.

Goodbye. "

Ragatha’s hands trembled as she held the notebook, the words blurring in front of her eyes as fresh tears began to spill down her cheeks. The signature was missing, but there was no mistaking who had written it. The messy scrawl, the rawness of the confession—it was Jax. Her heart sank deeper and deeper with every word, guilt and sadness crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Dumbledore watched her silently, allowing her time to process the heartbreaking truth. When Ragatha finally looked up, her voice was shaky. "He’s… he’s gone?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes. The Order found his body in one of the castle cells, lying in a pool of dried blood. It seems Voldemort had turned him into a human before… before his death."

Ragatha swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. Jax had been many things—cruel, manipulative, infuriating—but he had also been part of her world for so long. And now, in his final moments, he had written this. He had been scared, alone, and filled with regret. The thought of Jax—someone who had always seemed so invincible—dying like that made her chest ache.

Tears streamed down her face as she closed the notebook, her hands shaking. "I… I didn’t think he could feel like this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He never… he never showed it."

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but steady. "People are complicated, Ragatha. Jax hid behind his cruelty and arrogance, but underneath, he was still human. He made mistakes, many of them. But in the end, he seemed to understand the weight of what he had done."

Ragatha nodded, though the words offered little comfort. She felt a profound sadness settle in her chest, mingling with guilt and regret. She had hated Jax for so long, resented him for the way he treated her and everyone else. But now, knowing that he had suffered so much in his final moments, all that hate felt hollow. It had all led to this—a broken, lonely end for someone who had never learned how to be anything but cruel.

"I wish I could have helped him," she whispered through her tears. "I wish I had known."

Dumbledore gave her a sad smile. "We cannot change the past, but we can learn from it. Jax’s story is a reminder that even those who seem beyond redemption can still feel regret. In the end, he sought forgiveness, even if it was too late for him."

Ragatha clutched the notebook to her chest, the weight of Jax's final words pressing down on her. She didn't know what to do with the emotions swirling inside her, but she knew one thing for certain: Jax’s death would not be forgotten. He may have made terrible mistakes, but in the end, he was still one of them—a lost soul who, even in his last moments, had wanted to make things right.

And somehow, that made all the difference.