[Hogwarts Library – Midnight, August 5th]
The grand doors of the library creaked open as Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall stepped inside. The soft light of enchanted lanterns illuminated rows of towering bookshelves, casting long shadows across the room. And there, seated at a table in the center, was Hecate Targaryen.
She was a picture of serenity, casually flipping through the pages of a thick tome, her dark hair framing her pale face, and her deep blue-purplish eyes focused intently on the text. She looked entirely unbothered, as if she hadn't just breached the magical barriers of one of the most secure locations in the wizarding world.
McGonagall froze mid-step, her mouth slightly open in shock. "Is that—?"
"It is," Dumbledore murmured, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He stepped forward slowly, though his wand remained subtly clasped behind his back.
"Hecate Targaryen," Dumbledore began, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority, "what a pleasure to meet you again after such a long time."
Hecate didn't look up immediately. She finished reading the sentence in front of her, placed a bookmark delicately into the tome, and then met his gaze with a composed smile. "Headmaster Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall. What a surprise."
"Surprise?" McGonagall finally regained her voice, her tone sharp. "Miss Targaryen, this is a closed school! You've violated numerous rules by breaking in!"
Hecate tilted her head slightly, her expression unbothered. "I do apologize for stepping out of line by coming here unannounced," she said, her tone calm and almost melodic. "But it's the only way I could meet both of you in the same place."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, though his expression remained kind. "And what, pray tell, was so urgent that it warranted such a dramatic entrance, my dear?"
Hecate straightened, her gaze steady. "I know, Headmaster, that you harbor suspicions about my background."
Dumbledore didn't respond immediately, but the twinkle in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced with a more analytical gleam.
"That is why," Hecate continued, "my family has decided to extend an invitation to both of you. To visit our... let's call it a place."
McGonagall blinked, utterly flabbergasted. "Your family? Miss Targaryen, are you telling us that you've come all this way to deliver an invitation? At this hour? After breaking every rule imaginable?"
Hecate smiled faintly, brushing off the indignation in McGonagall's voice. "Yes. Our elder wished to meet prominent figures from the outside world, and I thought it prudent to invite both of you personally. I fear this is the only way."
Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "Oho, an invitation from the Targaryen family. I must say, I consider that an honor." His tone was light, but his piercing gaze suggested he was weighing every word carefully. "Though, perhaps you could give us some time to think about it? Hm?"
"I fear that is impossible," Hecate replied, shaking her head slightly. "I apologize for the rush, but the only way for you two to come to our family is by traveling with me. I can only remain here for today." Her tone softened slightly, a hint of regret in her words. "Again, I apologize for the urgency, but the elder's wish is clear. If you choose not to come, I understand."
Dumbledore studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he chuckled softly. "Hohoho, it's quite alright, my dear. I suppose we can't keep such a distinguished elder waiting, can we? What do you think, Minerva?"
McGonagall, still processing the surreal nature of the situation, stammered, "Uh—oh, sure. Let's go." Her tone betrayed her uncertainty, but she straightened her posture, determined to maintain her composure.
Hecate nodded gracefully, rising from her chair. "Very well. Follow me, then."
the silent question lingered in the air: Who exactly is Hecate Targaryen? And what mysteries does her family hold?
The trio stood in an open area of the library, dimly lit by the magical lanterns that cast an ethereal glow. The towering shelves of ancient books seemed to lean inward, as though they were silently watching what was about to unfold.
Hecate Targaryen moved gracefully to the center, her pale face calm, her deep blue-purplish eyes shimmering with purpose. She raised her hands, one clutched tightly as though holding something precious, the other open and steady. Her movements carried an almost ritualistic weight, as if every gesture had been rehearsed a thousand times.
Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable but their wariness evident. The Headmaster's wand remained within reach, though concealed, while McGonagall's sharp eyes flicked between Hecate's hands and the surroundings, as though expecting something unexpected to leap out from the shadows.
"Headmaster," Hecate began, her voice smooth and melodic, "please clutch one hand and place it on my open arm. Professor, do the same but place yours on the Headmaster's open hand. I will complete the circle by placing my clutched hand on your open hand."
The two professors hesitated for a moment, but eventually complied. Dumbledore stepped forward first, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a glimmer of curiosity. McGonagall followed suit, though her movements were slightly more tentative. Both seemed prepared to pull away at the first sign of danger.
"Now," Hecate continued, her voice softer yet commanding, "repeat after me, and do not stop."
The air grew heavy as Hecate began to sing, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade through mist.
----
Hecate's Incantation:[The Ballad of the Witches' Road]
"Seekest thou the road to all that's foul and fair
Gather sisters fire, water, earth, and air
Darkest hour, wake thy power, earthly and divine
Burn and brew with coven true and glory shall be thine…"
Her voice was mesmerizing, each word weaving a tapestry of power and mystery. Dumbledore and McGonagall hesitated at first, but the melody seemed to draw them in. Tentatively, they began to repeat the incantation, their voices faltering at first but growing stronger as they followed her lead.
As the chant continued, the room began to change. A faint, shimmering light surrounded the trio, spiraling upward like smoke from a cauldron. The shelves of books blurred into the background, and the very air seemed to hum with magic.
"Down, down, down the road
Down the witches' road…"
The professors' voices grew more confident, though they still cast wary glances at Hecate. Her presence was commanding, her voice imbued with an ancient resonance that seemed to transcend the moment.
the shadows underneath them seemed to dance under their feet, objects seemed to get swallowed into the darkness only to emerge other places . and then a sigil of a three headed dragon appeared, each head moving into different direction.
"Circle sewn with fate
Unlock thy hidden gate…"
The sigil pulsed, and the wind grew stronger, yet the trio's hands remained connected. The rhythm of the chant carried them forward, the words flowing naturally from their lips as though they'd always known them.
Suddenly, the space around them began to shift. The library dissolved into darkness, replaced by a forested path lined with shadowy, twisting trees. The sigil on the ground disappeared as if it was never there.
"Follow me, my friend
To glory at the end…"
As the final words echoed, the three figures were engulfed by the shadows. The light grew blinding for a moment, and then—
---
Back in the Library
Silence.
The library stood as it had before, as if no one had been there. The sigil had vanished, the books were undisturbed, and the only evidence of their presence was the faint echo of the incantation lingering in the air.
-------------------------
As they appeared on the cobblestone road surrounded by the dense forest, the cool morning air carried a faint aroma of pine and flowers, mingled with the earthy scent of dew-covered ground. Hecate took a deep breath, her sharp eyes briefly scanning the ethereal scenery. But before she could take a step forward, a familiar voice echoed inside her mind.
[Master, I request you grant me command over your body for a flawless performance.]
The voice was calm, confident, and reassuring. Hecate had heard it before and knew it to be her Cube, the enigmatic entity that often acted as both a guide and a tool.
'What are you planning?' she asked silently, though there was no real suspicion in her tone—only curiosity.
[Master can rest assured. I will not cause harm to you directly or indirectly. You will retain full awareness and may intervene at any time. This approach will ensure that no missteps occur during this critical moment.]
Hecate hesitated for only a heartbeat. Trusting the Cube had never led her astray before, and she understood the importance of precision in this situation. With a mental sigh, she relented.
'Fine. Don't mess this up,' she said curtly in her thoughts, though there was a hint of amusement beneath her stern tone.
The moment she agreed, a peculiar sensation swept over her. It wasn't disorienting, but it was distinct—like an invisible force gently guiding her movements. She felt her body relax, her posture straighten, and her breathing steady as the Cube took control.
And then, quite suddenly, she was no longer standing on the forest path.
---
Hecate blinked and found herself seated in an elegantly furnished room. The contrast between the tranquil forest and the cozy space was jarring yet seamless. The room was warm and inviting, with soft golden lighting casting a serene glow. A plush, oversized couch cradled her comfortably, its velvet upholstery cool against her skin.
A small table beside her bore an assortment of neatly arranged snacks—delicate pastries, fruit slices, and steaming tea in ornate china cups. Everything about the setup radiated indulgence, as though the room had been designed specifically to pamper and soothe her.
In front of her, a translucent panel hovered midair, displaying her current perspective. It was as if she were watching herself move through the forest road in third person, yet she felt every step and every breath as if she were still physically there.
"Efficient," Hecate murmured to herself, leaning back into the couch.
The Cube's voice returned, calm and composed. [Master, the panel will allow you to observe the interactions and intervene should the need arise. Meanwhile, you may enjoy this temporary reprieve. I will handle all external communications and actions with precision.]
Hecate raised an eyebrow, picking up a delicate pastry. 'You seem confident. Don't overdo it. Subtlety is key.'
[Understood, Master.]
With that, Hecate turned her attention to the panel. She watched as her body, now under the Cube's flawless control, moved gracefully forward on the forest path, her expression calm and regal. A slight smile played on her lips—a gesture so subtle that even she was impressed by the Cube's attention to detail.
"This will be interesting," she murmured, taking a sip of tea as the panel displayed Dumbledore and McGonagall following her, their expressions a mixture of awe and wariness.
-----------
The trio materialized on a cobblestone road cutting through a lush forest. The air was cool and fresh, and the golden rays of morning sunlight filtered through the trees, illuminating the thin mist that clung to the forest floor like a veil of enchantment. The chirping of birds echoed in the distance, adding a serene melody to the surreal environment. It was vastly different from the midnight gloom of Hogwarts they had just left behind.
Dumbledore and McGonagall stood still, taking in the breathtaking sight. Minerva seemed mesmerized, her lips slightly parted in awe as her sharp eyes scanned the vibrant foliage and the shimmering mist.
"This is…" McGonagall began, her voice filled with wonder. "I have a lot of questions."
Dumbledore, ever the curious scholar, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A temporal difference, perhaps," he remarked, his voice betraying his intrigue. "Fascinating… Though I must admit, I thought I had seen enough wonders in my life not to be surprised. And yet…" He trailed off, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.
Before the two could ask further questions, Hecate's voice interrupted their thoughts. Her tone was composed, but there was a faint, mischievous lilt to it that neither of them missed.
"This," she said with a small, enigmatic smile that sent a flicker of surprise through Dumbledore and Minerva, "is the royal garden. If we follow this road, we'll arrive at the backdoor of the palace."
"Royal garden? Palace? Royal?" McGonagall repeated incredulously.
Hecate turned toward her with a playful glint in her eyes, a rare expression that left both professors momentarily taken aback. "Oh, I must introduce myself properly then, Professor. I am Hecate Targaryen, the next in line to ascend the throne of the Celestial Dominion of Vyrthalos."
The name hung in the air, resonating with a grandeur that silenced them momentarily. McGonagall's brows furrowed, her disbelief evident, while Dumbledore's expression shifted into one of calm contemplation.
"I see," Dumbledore said at last, his tone measured but laced with curiosity. "This is… quite a revelation, Miss Targaryen."
Hecate gave a faint smile. "You'll learn more when we reach the palace, Headmaster. For now, I kindly ask you to hold your curiosity. And—" she gestured toward the lush greenery flanking the road, "—do not step off the path. This garden does not take kindly to uninvited guests treading on its grounds."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "A sentient guardian, perhaps?"
"You could say that," Hecate replied, her gaze wandering to the trees. "The garden is said to possess a wisdom of its own, having existed for millennia. But who knows? You may test your luck if you wish."
Before they could respond, Hecate took an elegant leap off the road and landed lightly on the grass. The sight caused McGonagall to cry out, "Wait!"
But nothing happened. Hecate stood unscathed on the verdant lawn, her serene expression unchanged. She turned back to them with a playful smile. "You're too kind, Professor," she teased lightly.
Seeing this, Dumbledore stepped forward, placing one foot cautiously on the grass. The moment his shoe made contact, the ground seemed to liquefy, pulling his foot downward as though it intended to swallow him whole.
"Albus!" McGonagall gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
Dumbledore quickly pulled his foot back, steadying himself on the road. "I'm fine, Minerva," he reassured her, though his voice carried a hint of amusement. "Hoho, truly fascinating!" He stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling as he analyzed the curious phenomenon.
"They say this garden has a mind of its own," Hecate explained, placing a hand gently on the bark of a nearby tree. "It's seen countless things over the centuries—so many that it's said to have gained wisdom. But of course, who can say for sure?"
She turned back to the professors, her gaze settling on McGonagall. "Professor, would you like to try?"
McGonagall's face stiffened. "No, thank you," she replied curtly. "I find it unnecessary."
"Very well." Hecate's eyes sparkled with amusement as she hopped back onto the cobblestone road. "Then let's continue."
---
As they began to walk down the path, the serene ambiance of the royal garden surrounded them. Dumbledore and McGonagall stayed alert, their eyes scanning every detail of the strange and magnificent place. Despite the beauty of their surroundings, an undercurrent of tension lingered in the air.
Dumbledore's mind raced with questions about Hecate's heritage, the garden's nature, and the palace that awaited them at the end of the road. McGonagall, though quieter, was no less intrigued, her mind filled with thoughts about the implications of this discovery.
Hecate, meanwhile, moved ahead gracefully, her posture poised and her steps light. Though her body was under the Cube's control, her mind observed everything from the comfort of her private viewing room. She watched their reactions through the panel and allowed herself a small smile.
This was only the beginning.