Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

You can read ahead up to 110 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395

In the vast, boundless desert.

A thick haze hung like an ever-fading curtain, firmly veiling the sky. The clouds were heavy and low, sagging as though they might collapse at any moment and swallow the entire wasteland whole.

But unlike the usual deserts with golden dunes, this one was steeped in darkness. The ground was blanketed in pitch-black soil, looking deep and impenetrable, giving the land a dread-inducing weight.

It was a dark so absolute it felt alive, the sand grains shimmering faintly under the pale light of the moon, twinkling like stars in the night sky, yet each one whispered an omen of misfortune.

Above, a blood-red moon loomed ominously, its light offering no warmth, only an unnatural chill that cast the desert in a bleak, infernal glow.

Even the black sand bore a crimson tint, making it appear more cursed than natural.

"Where have I been taken this time?" Ian's expression wasn't one of surprise. He had experienced this before, several times, in fact, and recognised the signs of unintentionally unlocking a new region of the Twilight Zone.

"I've no real longing in my heart right now, and I haven't picked up any peculiar artefacts this time… could it be because of that old Resurrection Stone ring?"

Ian drew out the Deathly Hallows ring he'd long ago put away. He pondered over it for a moment, but he doubted the Resurrection Stone alone had dragged him into this new section of the Twilight Zone.

After all, he'd carried the ring with him for weeks, traveling back and forth through the Twilight Zone many times without any unusual detours, certainly nothing akin to his accidental plunge into "Mount Doom."

Ian still suspected that this strange journey might've had more to do with Helena Ravenclaw. Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, of course, couldn't bring herself to blame her own daughter, so she'd insisted that Ian and Helena were drawn to 'Mount Doom' because of the Resurrection Stone's origin.

"If I were her, I'd probably say the same thing to clear my own name." Ian was living proof of the phrase 'Judge not, lest ye be judged". He hadn't wholly bought Lady Rowena's explanation.

Even Professor Morgan's words weren't always gospel. For example, Ian had once felt an overpowering pull to send a mirror to Professor Morgan, surely a sign his heart's desire was connected to the professor's shadowed castle.

So why had he wound up in this puzzling desert instead?

"Could this place have something to do with the Mirror of Erised?"

Ian was thoroughly baffled.

He was about to reach into his enchanted money pouch when, to his great surprise, he discovered a delightfully unexpected development: his elder wood wand, which had previously refused to pass into the Twilight Zone, remained intact. 

It rested securely in the wand pouch stitched into his robes. The moment he touched it, its quiet presence flooded him with a reassuring calm.

"I can cast spells again! Then I've nothing to fear!" The lingering unease in Ian's chest dissipated. Though the wand felt cool in his grip, it warmed his heart with comfort.

"Maybe it has something to do with my magical power ascending… or perhaps it's linked to stepping onto the so-called 'path of legend'?" Ian suspected that unlocking this new region might be tied to either, or even both, of those milestones.

Of course…

It was impossible to determine whether it was the magic power breakthrough or the path of legend that had done it, since the two events had happened in such quick succession.

The pace had been too quick.

The interval was far too short.

"Perhaps only someone cheating fate would understand this sort of headache." Ian indulged in a touch of self-mockery before rummaging through his pouch and pulling out the Mirror of Erised he had carefully stored inside.

He compared the mirror's design to the colours of the surrounding landscape, but stylistically, the Mirror of Erised was wildly out of place in the inky expanse of black sand.

"Could the mirror's glass have been forged from sand like this?" Ian mused aloud, stroking his chin.

He knew that ordinary sand could be smelted into glass, but he wasn't sure if the sand here held such properties. So, he crouched and filled his pouch with several tons of the dark grains.

Yes, several tons.

The more skilled the alchemist, the greater their terror of running out of materials.

And Ian was no exception.

"Even if this isn't the raw component used in the Mirror of Erised, it must be an alchemical treasure of its own." Ian let the black sand run between his fingers.

Its texture was distinct and unforgettable. It didn't crumble or scatter like normal sand. Instead, it carried a dense, cohesive structure. Under the pale moonlight, it gleamed with a subdued and haunting beauty.

As he continued sifting it between his hands…

Ian felt something strange.

The black sand wasn't loose or brittle, it had weight, substance, and a curious density. He could clearly sense a subtle gravitational pull between the grains.

"Could the entire desert be bound by this force?" Ian looked up, eyes tracing the expanse of the shadowed dunes.

It was as if each grain of sand were a fallen star, fragments of the cosmos condensed over aeons into this mysterious and ancient desert.

"Regardless, it's definitely a treasure," Ian mused, stuffing even more of the strange black sand into his pouch. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, if only he'd managed to acquire some Occamy skin to further expand its capacity.

Occamies, those serpentine, feathered magical beasts with wings and two legs, could stretch up to fifteen feet long and were highly coveted in the magical world.

Their innate ability to shrink or expand to fit their surroundings made them invaluable, and more importantly, their shimmering, silver-blue skin was one of the finest materials for crafting objects enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm, hence their immense worth.

"Shame Occamies don't seem to end up in the Twilight Zone after death," Ian muttered, hoisting the now-heavy pouch. "Would've saved me a lot of trouble acquiring the skin."

With no clear end to the desert in sight, and no direction better than the next, Ian resolved to keep moving. Perhaps, by wandering this lifeless land, he might unearth the reason he'd been drawn here in the first place.

"I probably won't run into any ghastly phantoms. Even ghosts would find this place unbearably dull," he said dryly, drawing his wand and giving it a flick.

And so, 

The sand began to swirl and twist as if caught in a whirlpool, reshaping itself into the outline of an off-road carriage, sturdy and squat, with a charm-bound chassis and enchanted wheels made from compressed ashwood. The transformation neared completion, 

"Crash~"

Just as the vehicle was about to fully materialise, it crumbled apart. The shifting hues dulled, and all the black sand fell away, as though nothing had ever formed at all.

"Must be the gravitational link between the grains…" Ian muttered, more intrigued than annoyed. "Knew there was something peculiar about this stuff!"

Though the attempt had failed, he wasn't disappointed. If his pouch weren't bursting, he'd have packed even more sand in by now.

"Good thing I dabble in a bit of everything," He said with a shrug, retrieving a nearly-finished magical cloak from his rucksack, a project that was 99% complete and quite possibly 99% temperamental.

"Whoosh~"

With a quick swing over his shoulders, Ian fastened the enchanted buttons, and in the blink of an eye, he shot into the air like a rogue Firebolt, piercing the low, oppressive clouds above.

"Slow down! Merlin's beard, SLOW DOWN!"

"Lower, LOWER! Not that low! Forward, not backwards, are you daft?"

"Oi! Diagonally! You know, for dramatic flair, not some cheap broom-chase from a Knockturn Alley stage play!"

"Ugh! Oh, brilliant, just toss me into the sand mid-rant, why don't you?!"

...

(To Be Continued…)