In the starry night in the Gryffindor tower, James, Rose, and Albus fell asleep in the common room armchairs beside the fire. They were surrounded by books and parchments. Suddenly, it felt like something was pulling Al somewhere unknown. He fell flat on the ground, looking around.
He wasn't awake, but he wasn't truly asleep either.Because he was dreaming.
But it didn't feel like a normal dream. It felt real. It always did when she came.
He stood in a vast, gray field. Ash-like fog danced across the ground, curling around his boots. It was cold, but not the kind of cold that bites—more like something hollow, empty.
Then he saw her.
A girl in a yellow dress.Barefoot. Brown curls, tangled and soft. Freckles. A faint glow around her like sunlight trapped in mist.
"Daisy," he breathed, recognizing her face from the drawings Rose had shown him. From the other dreams. From the whispers in the time cracks.
She didn't smile.
She raised a hand. The fog behind her shifted—like it was alive. Albus saw figures in the smoke, frozen in motion. Minerva is reaching forward. Another girl—maybe Rose?—caught mid-run. Blurred and flickering, like broken memories.
"They're stuck," Daisy said softly. Her voice echoed all around him, like wind through a tunnel."Trapped. Between seconds."
"Trapped where?" Al asked, stepping closer."Inside what?"
Daisy didn't answer. She held out her hand instead. Albus hesitated—but reached out.
The moment their fingers touched, images flooded his mind:
Nova stood alone in the Shard Vault, confused and small.
A silver-eyed woman was watching her from the shadows.
A swirl of clocks breaking apart mid-air.
A burst of red and gold magic—then silence.
Then Daisy whispered again, clearer this time:
"The Time Devil is unraveling her. One thread at a time.Minerva... she's forgetting.And soon, Nova will too."
Al's breath caught."You have to tell us what to do! How do we stop her?"
Daisy's eyes turned silver for a heartbeat.She looked scared.
"She's already inside.Two of you are already marked."
Before Al could ask who, the ground cracked beneath his feet, and the smoke swallowed everything.
bolted awake, gasping. The Gryffindor common room was still, the fire down to glowing embers. His heart hammered in his chest.
He turned and saw Rose sitting in the armchair beside her., wide-eyed and pale."Did you dream too?" she whispered.
James sat up groggily in the armchair in front of him."Let me guess—Daisy?"
They all stared at each other.
It was clear: something was coming.And this time, it was already here.
The castle was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every footstep echo like a thunderclap. Albus, James, and Rose crept down the long hallway past the empty suits of armor, following the half-remembered path James and Rose had walked weeks ago.
"I swear it was this corridor," James whispered, holding the tip of his wand close like a torch."It feels right," Rose agreed slyly.
The three of them turned one last corner—
—and froze.
Standing in the middle of the hallway was Daisy.The same yellow dress. The same calm, eerie glow. But this time... she was waiting for them.
"You shouldn't be here," Daisy said softly.Her voice echoed strangely, like it came from somewhere between the stones.
"What do you mean?" Rose asked, stepping forward.**"We need to know what's happening. Please just tell us."
Daisy shook her head. Her curls bounced gently with the motion.
"If you want to stay in this timeline, you mustn't step out of your rooms when the clock strikes twelve."
Albus blinked."What? Why?"
"What happens at midnight?" James asked, glancing around.
Daisy looked over her shoulder. For a moment, the walls behind her flickered—like something was trying to break through them.
"There's a ripple. A crack in time. If you're caught in it… it won't be this version of you that comes back."
"Wait, what do you mean 'this version'?" Al asked, panic creeping into his voice.
Daisy didn't answer. She just said one last thing:
"Don't open doors between 12 and 4. Especially… not the wrong one."
Then she was gone.No flash. No sound. Just vanished—like she had never been there.
They looked at each other, James checked the time, it was one minute to midnight, he looks at the others,
"RUN!" he screams. They all start running back to the Gryffindor Tower.
"At this point, I don't care if I'm Slytherin, I'm not going to the dungeons, I'll stay here till this thing is sorted out," Al said fearfully, collapsing into the armchair. Every night after revising with Rose and James, Al would go back to the Slytherin common room to sleep.
"Let's go meet McGonagall tomorrow morning, we can't hide this, this is going too far," James said.
"Yes," agreed Rose, "We have to tell her, we can even ask the portraits about this, also we have to concentrate on our exams, so telling the adults would be the best option.
None of them could sleep that night, they were sitting in the armchairs of the Gryffindor common room and studying. Well, at least they tried to study. All of them knew something was wrong; this thought lingered in their brain, but they also knew that the exam stress could make them forget this, so they tried to study as hard as they could.
The next morning, they went to McGonagall's office. The three of them were pale, exhausted, and still jittery when they stood in front of Professor McGonagall, trying to explain everything.
She listened silently, steepling her fingers under her chin.
"You're absolutely certain she said not to step out past midnight?" she asked.
"Yes, Professor. Until four in the morning.""And she said the next time it wouldn't be us."
McGonagall turned to Dumbledore's portrait behind her.
"Well, Albus? Anything you'd like to add?"
The old wizard in the portrait opened his eyes slowly, then sighed.
"There are… echoes. Moments in time that fold. And in such folds, identity becomes fluid. That's all I can say."
James narrowed his eyes."Wait… what do you mean 'identity becomes fluid'? Are you saying someone could become someone else?"
Dumbledore looked at them for a long, silent moment.
Then—He stood up.Walked out of his frame.And vanished into another painting on the far wall.
The three students stared at the now-empty frame.
"Well," Rose whispered, "that's not terrifying at all.
The door suddenly burst open while they were staring at Dumbledore's portrait.
Did you see Daisy?"It was Luna—her voice soft but urgent. Her eyes were wide, dreamy as always, but with an unmistakable sharpness underneath. Her blonde hair was a mess.
The three kids looked at each other and nodded.
"We were just telling Professor McGonagall everything she said," James said.
"Let's explain again," Al said, looking at Rose.
"No need," Luna interrupted gently, stepping forward, her radish earrings swinging.**"I already know."
McGonagall blinked.**"You what?"
Luna ignored her and turned to the students.
"You mustn't open any doors between midnight and four. Not dormitory doors. Not classroom doors. Not even the door to the Great Hall. It's not just Daisy who's walking during those hours."
Al, Rose, and James all nodded slowly, their faces pale.
"You'll feel tempted," Luna added in a softer voice, leaning closer. "Some doors might whisper to you. Don't listen. Promise me."
"We promise," the three said in unison.
After that conversation, they didn't have time to discuss anything.
Time slipped forward, as it always does.
Snow melted into slush. Christmas trees disappeared from corners. Students returned with half-eaten sweets and wrinkled homework stuffed in their bags.
And just like that—the new year began.
Along with it came a creeping dread: exams.
Posters for revision schedules appeared on the noticeboards. Professors began talking about "evaluating progress" and "exam format." The castle filled with the smell of ink, parchment, and panic.
The worst blow came next.
Easter holidays were canceled.
Students groaned across every house table.Except for those preparing for OWLs and NEWTs. Those poor, caffeine-powered few were too far gone to care about holidays. They were just thrilled about the extra help sessions that came instead.
"Happy New Year," James muttered darkly, opening a seventh textbook.