The moment was serene, almost deceptively so. The soft rustling of leaves and the gentle breaths of dragons resting around me painted a peaceful picture. Then, a ripple in reality shattered the calm. A portal, an anomaly of shimmering, cosmic hues, burst into existence before me, swirling like a whirlpool of stars and shadow. My heart sank slightly; I knew this day would come, the last day on this uncharted island in a world far removed from my own. But facing it, seeing the gateway that would force my return, was another matter entirely.
I glanced at the dragons, their heads lifting and eyes narrowing at the portal's sudden appearance. Skyrend , let out a low growl, sensing my hesitation. Although I held a grimoire bound in green scales—my spatial magic grimoire—capable of bridging distances and summoning gates to my sub-dimension, crossing between entire worlds was something beyond my current power. The gates to my sub-dimension worked because they were anchored, linked to the enchanted bag that never left my side. But this? Returning here would be impossible without a permanent tether, or so I thought.
As I struggled with the notion of leaving this place forever, the grimoire in my lap began to glow, pulsing with a vibrant emerald light that matched the fire in my eyes. It flew open, and to my shock, pages once blank were filling with symbols—ancient, cryptic, and glowing like embers. I didn't recognize the language, but deep within, I understood the essence of the spell: Print. A marking spell, a minor part of something far greater that would remain locked away until I met the conditions to access it. But for now, it was enough. This spell was a promise, a thread to trace my way back to this realm one day.
Willing the spell to activate, I felt a surge within me. Magic erupted like a river breaking a dam, gushing forth uncontrollably. I gasped as it flowed, pulling the air from my lungs and making my limbs tremble. The pressure built, my vision darkened at the edges, and I staggered back. Skyrend reacted instantly, catching me with its powerful wings as I faltered. The dragons, sensing my command without a word, began moving to the gate anchored to my bag. I was too drained to conjure anything else.
Placed gently beneath the sprawling arms of a tree, I watched as the dragons disappeared, their massive bodies slipping into the sub-dimension, one by one. But my focus was stolen by the marvel rising before me. Magic wove itself into stone, molding and shaping the earth as though it had a mind of its own. Boulders lifted and fit together seamlessly, forming the skeleton of a temple that grew grander by the second. At its heart stood a statue—me, wings unfurled like a guardian angel with a wild edge, hair cascading down my shoulders in dark waves. In one hand, I held a hammer, its weight symbolic of raw power and defiance. In the other, a jar tilted, pouring out a crystalline stream that seemed alive, an eternal flow that would never run dry.
The temple was more than just stone; it resonated with power, a deep mark on the very fabric of this world. I could feel it in my bones, a faint, pulsating connection that would one day guide me back. I felt the relief course through me, knowing that this imprint was a beacon, a part of me left behind to call out when I had the means to return.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the damp, rich scent of the earth, now mingled with the faint metallic tang of magic. "So, that's how it's done," I murmured, a rare smile flickering on my lips despite the exhaustion weighing on me. Time passed, and strength trickled back into my limbs like rain soaking into dry soil. I stood, every bone protesting but unwilling to delay any longer. The portal glimmered, casting reflections of stars in my eyes as I took a final look at the temple, at the island I had fought for, claimed, and called home for the shortest yet most exhilarating month.
Stepping through, I whispered, "Goodbye for now." The sensation of the world unraveling around me pulled at my skin, and then everything shifted. One month. Too short, but enough to ensure I would return.
----------------------
The portal's sudden expulsion of light faded, and I found myself standing in the VIP suite of my hotel. The room was pristine, untouched, just as I had commanded before my month-long departure to that distant world. The gleam of polished wood, the undisturbed sheets, and the faint scent of lavender told me my orders had been obeyed meticulously. Not a speck of dust dared defy me.
I glanced at the ornate clock on the wall. Three days had passed in this world, an absurd difference compared to the month that had ticked by in the other realm. Time flowed differently between worlds, a discrepancy that sent a shiver of excitement down my spine. This was an advantage, a loophole that could be exploited.
But before my thoughts could drift too far into strategy, I reminded myself of my immediate priority: Dumbledore. His watchful eyes were sharp, wary. I was not just an enigma in the magical and Muggle worlds; I was a talent that mirrored the young Tom Riddle, minus the dark intentions (or so it appeared). The wand shopkeeper's report of my wand—a match for Voldemort's—was a detail Dumbledore wouldn't overlook. I needed to adjust the narrative, diminish his suspicions, and solidify my standing without drawing undue attention.
I reached into my pocket and retrieved the Cube of Desire, a gleaming, otherworldly artifact that hummed with a latent power I had yet to explore. I had sensed its potential before, but now was the time to truly test it. I willed it to activate, and in response, the Cube pulsed, opening like a mechanical flower to swallow me whole. The room disappeared, replaced by an all-encompassing void, dark as obsidian and infinitely vast.
"Hello, master," came a voice, smooth and almost sentient.
"Who are you?" I asked, the darkness around me pulsating as though alive.
"I'm Cube, the Cube of Desire."
The voice was welcoming, subservient, yet resonant with an intelligence that made my instincts flicker with caution.
"How do I make use of you? Speak."
"Master, it's fairly simple," the Cube responded. "Just give me the command and reference, and I shall create everything into existence. But there are limitations:
1. Anything created within the Cube cannot exist outside of it.
2. Everything will reset after 24 hours.
3. A cooldown period will apply proportional to what was created.
"However," it added, "since this is your first time using the Cube, you will have one try without a cooldown."
Its voice was smooth, almost teasing, as if it knew this was a taste of a power I'd crave.
"What else can you do?" I pressed, testing its limits.
"Everything and anything the master desires," it said, with an inflection that suggested boundless possibilities. "Additionally, the host can save the generated reality into a file for later use."
I raised an eyebrow. A creation tool with memory? This was no ordinary artifact. It functioned in phases—phase one, where I laid out my desires in detail, and phase two, where the Cube brought them into existence. Simple, but powerful.
A pen materialized, glowing with a light that pushed back the darkness just enough for me to see my own hand. It felt warm, alive, and when I gripped it, it hummed in response to my touch. Taking a deep breath, I began to write on the black canvas before me as though it were parchment:
"+ Small kingdom—Targaryen family as the royal lineage. The small kingdom is in a sub-dimension, hidden from the outside world.
Circumstances that forced them to send their daughter, Hecate, into the outside world for her protection.
Technologically advanced, but infused with magic.
Royal family and nobles possess superhuman abilities."
The words glowed, searing themselves into the void as I wrote. I paused, scrutinizing the details. It would serve as a backstory, a realm of origin that might play to my advantage in the wizarding world if Dumbledore's prying eyes ever tried to uncover more.
"Does master allow the Cube to access master's memory for reference?" the voice asked.
"Yes," I said, feeling a strange pull as if something deep within me had been unlocked.
"Does host wish to stay until everything is done?"
"No. When I return, I'll be in that world, right? Not here in the darkness?" I asked for confirmation.
"Yes, yes, and yes."
"Good," I said, satisfied. "How long until it's ready?"
"48 hours."
I nodded, releasing the tension in my shoulders. The Cube held promises that could change everything. As the void around me began to shift and fade, I whispered, "Fine." The darkness receded, and with it, the pulse of the Cube dimmed as it fell back into a dormant state.
The hotel room embraced me once more, its luxury now feeling almost mundane. Yet a thrill coursed through my veins.
---------------
[Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts, August 5th]
The warm, flickering glow of the enchanted candles illuminated the headmaster's office as Albus Dumbledore sat behind his ornate desk. Minerva McGonagall, seated opposite him, adjusted her square spectacles while skimming over a parchment detailing the student roster for the upcoming year.
"Well, Albus, we have six new Muggle-born students in Gryffindor this year. A promising group, though I do worry about their transition to our world, given the heightened activity of... certain individuals," McGonagall said, her voice firm yet laced with concern.
Dumbledore nodded, his piercing blue eyes distant as he stroked his beard. "Indeed, Minerva. These are troubling times. Voldemort's followers grow bolder by the day, but we must ensure Hogwarts remains a sanctuary. It is our duty."
"About that," McGonagall began, leaning forward slightly, "I've been thinking. The wards we've placed are strong, but should we consider more active patrols during the school year? And what of Hogsmeade weekends? I fear the children—"
Dumbledore's gaze suddenly sharpened, and his hand froze mid-motion. His serene expression hardened into one of alertness.
"What is it, Albus?" McGonagall asked, alarmed.
"The wards," Dumbledore said gravely. "One of them has been breached. Someone is inside the castle."
McGonagall gasped, clutching her chest. "Oh, goodness! Who could it be?"
Dumbledore rose from his chair, his expression unreadable but his movements deliberate. "I cannot say, but we must act quickly. Follow me, Minerva."
McGonagall stood, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I knew the quiet summer was too good to last."
[Rushing through the corridors of Hogwarts]
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the stone hallways as Dumbledore and McGonagall moved swiftly. The flickering torchlight cast their shadows on the walls, making the castle feel alive with tension.
"Albus, are you certain it isn't just a stray house-elf?" McGonagall asked, her wand drawn.
Dumbledore shook his head. "The wards I've set respond only to intrusions of a specific kind. This is no accident, Minerva. Someone who does not belong has entered."
"Do you think it's one of Voldemort's followers?" she pressed, her voice tight.
"It is possible," Dumbledore said. "But we must not jump to conclusions. The breach was subtle, almost as though... whoever it was did wish to be discovered."
"Subtle? Breaking into Hogwarts during the summer hardly seems subtle, Albus!" McGonagall retorted, her tone sharp but edged with nervousness. "What if they're after the students? Or... the castle's secrets?"
"Precisely why we must act quickly," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm yet firm. He slowed his pace slightly, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. "We are nearly at the source."
McGonagall glanced at him. "Do you sense them, then?"
"I do," Dumbledore said. "And they are close. Keep your wand ready, Minerva. We must be prepared for anything."
They turned a corner, the air growing colder as they approached the section of the castle where the wards had been triggered. Dumbledore raised a hand to signal for McGonagall to stop.
"Here," he whispered.
McGonagall's grip on her wand tightened. "Let's hope it's nothing more than a curious fool who's about to regret their decisions."
"And if it isn't?" Dumbledore murmured, his voice barely audible.
"Then, Albus," McGonagall said, her eyes steely, "they'll find that Hogwarts is not so easily trifled with."
Dumbledore gave her a faint smile, his wand already in his hand. Together, they stepped forward into the library.