Waves of Magic and Memory

The Fragment

Harry returned to where Hermione waited, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped back into the shadows.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked quietly, concern etched on her face.

Harry gave a small nod, forcing a calm smile. "Yeah. I'm fine. Let's keep looking."

They moved deeper into the Restricted Section, eyes scanning the shelves for any clue that could help them unravel the mystery.

They had been at it for hours, flipping through thick tomes and brittle scrolls under the glow of their wands. Dust swirled in the stale air as Hermione turned yet another page, her brow furrowed in frustration.

Harry closed a heavy volume with a dull thud. "Most of this... we already know. Hints about Avalon, Morgana's fall, the mist. Nothing new."

Hermione sighed and began gathering the books to return them. "I thought the Black library would give us more. Something different. But it's all fragments and legends..."

She reached to slide a book back into the shelf—then paused. There, tucked behind a row of grimoires, almost invisible against the shadowed wood, was the spine of a deep green book. Faded and cracked, with no visible title.

"Harry," she whispered. "There's something back there."

He stepped beside her, stretching his hand deep between the shelves. With effort, he tugged the book free. A faint puff of dust escaped as he opened it carefully. Between its pages, something fluttered loose—an aged, creased piece of parchment.

Hermione caught it before it hit the floor. She unfolded it slowly, and there—written in dark, flowing script—was a riddle.

"Seek the shore where no tides reach,
Where moonlight stirs and willows preach.
When dawn breaks through the ancient bough,
The path shall lead to Avalon now."

At the bottom of the page was a fragment of a map—a jagged edge suggesting it had been torn from a larger whole. It showed the outline of a forest, a crescent-shaped lake, and a faintly drawn stone arch at the lake's edge. The only marking on it was a tiny silver star, stamped just beside the shoreline.

Harry stared at it. "That lake... It's inland. No tides. And look at the trees—willows, maybe oaks too."

Hermione traced the silver star. "It's just a fragment. But if we can find this place—match this to the rest of the landscape—we might actually find Avalon."

Harry glanced toward the door. "Then we're not done searching yet."

She looked up at him, eyes shining with the first glimmer of hope in hours. "We might be closer than we thought."

Meanwhile...

Back at Grimmauld Place, the hours ticked by with no sign of Harry or Hermione. The silence had grown heavier—the kind that wrapped around your thoughts like fog. Annabeth sat on the worn couch, legs bouncing, fingers drumming against her knee.

Ron paced nearby. "They've been gone too long," she muttered.

He looked up. "They'll be alright. If anyone knows how to sneak around Hogwarts, it's Harry."

Annabeth didn't respond. Her jaw clenched, eyes locked on the far wall as if willing it to show her something—anything. The waiting scraped at her nerves.

Ron hesitated. "Annabeth—"

But she was already rising. "I'll just take a walk."

"Don't go too far," Ron called after her, but she was already halfway down the hall, pulling a drachma from her pocket.