Shahzaib woke with a start, his heart pounding. The remnants of a dream clung to his consciousness—shadows writhing, Zara's laugh echoing in the darkness, and the taste of forbidden magic on his tongue. He groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"Rough night?" Aiden's voice drifted from the next bed over.
"You could say that," Shahzaib muttered, sitting up. "Had a dream I was being chased by Snape wearing McGonagall's hat. Terrifying stuff."
Aiden snorted. "Mate, if that's what gets you hot and bothered, we need to have a serious talk."
Shahzaib threw a pillow at him, grinning despite himself. "Shut it, you prat. Some of us have standards."
As they dressed for breakfast, Shahzaib's mind wandered back to his conversation with Zara by the lake. The memory of her kiss on his cheek sent a warm tingle through him, quickly followed by a surge of guilt as he remembered Dumbledore's warning about secrecy.
"Earth to Shahzaib," Aiden waved a hand in front of his face. "You're doing that brooding thing again. What's going on with you lately?"
Shahzaib sighed. "It's complicated, Aiden. I wish I could explain, but—"
"But you can't," Aiden finished, his voice tinged with hurt. "Right. Message received, loud and clear."
As Aiden stalked out of the dormitory, Shahzaib felt the Umbra Anima stir within him, feeding on his negative emotions. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself as he'd been practicing.
"Not now," he muttered to the shadows. "I've got enough problems without you adding to the mix."
The Great Hall was buzzing with activity when Shahzaib arrived. He spotted Zara at the Ravenclaw table, deep in conversation with a group of her housemates. She looked up as he passed, flashing him a quick smile that made his stomach do somersaults.
"Mr. Malik," a silky voice interrupted his thoughts. Shahzaib turned to find Professor Snape looming over him. "The Headmaster has informed me of your... special circumstances. We will begin your additional lessons this evening. Eight o'clock, my office. Do not be late."
Shahzaib nodded, his appetite suddenly gone. "Yes, sir."
As Snape swooped away, Aiden leaned in. "Additional lessons? With Snape? What did you do to deserve that kind of torture?"
"Existing, apparently," Shahzaib quipped, forcing a laugh. "You know how Snape is. Probably thinks my potion-making skills are a personal insult."
Aiden didn't look convinced, but before he could press further, the morning post arrived. A sleek black owl landed in front of Shahzaib, dropping a small package before taking off again.
"What's that?" Aiden asked, curiosity overriding his earlier frustration.
Shahzaib unwrapped the package carefully, revealing a small, ornate mirror. A note fell out:
"For your lessons. Use it wisely. - A.D."
"Blimey," Aiden breathed. "Is that a Foe-Glass?"
Shahzaib shook his head, tucking the mirror and note into his robes. "Just a regular mirror. Dumbledore probably thinks I need to work on my devastating good looks."
Aiden rolled his eyes. "Right, because that's definitely your biggest problem."
The day passed in a blur of classes and whispered conversations. Shahzaib caught Zara's eye several times, each glance sending a jolt of electricity through him. During Charms, she passed him a note:
"Restricted Section. Midnight. Don't get caught."
Shahzaib's pulse quickened. He scribbled back:
"Trying to get me in trouble, Khoury Khan?"
Her response came moments later:
"Always. Someone's got to keep you on your toes."
As eight o'clock approached, Shahzaib made his way to Snape's office, his stomach churning with a mix of dread and anticipation. He knocked on the heavy wooden door.
"Enter," Snape's voice drawled from within.
The office was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls cast by flickering candles. Jars of pickled... things lined the shelves, their contents floating in murky liquids.
"Mr. Malik," Snape said, his black eyes glittering. "I trust you understand the gravity of your situation."
Shahzaib nodded. "Yes, sir."
"The Umbra Anima is not a toy, nor is it a gift," Snape continued. "It is a curse, one that will consume you if you let it. These lessons will teach you to control it, to bend it to your will. But make no mistake—one misstep, one moment of weakness, and it will destroy you."
"Cheery as always, Professor," Shahzaib muttered before he could stop himself.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Flippancy will not serve you here, Malik. Now, clear your mind. We begin with Occlumency."
What followed was two hours of mental torture. Snape battered against Shahzaib's mental defenses, dredging up memories and emotions he'd rather keep buried. By the end, Shahzaib was drenched in sweat, his head pounding.
"Pathetic," Snape sneered. "Again."
As Snape raised his wand, Shahzaib felt something snap within him. The Umbra Anima surged forward, shadows erupting from his skin. The candles in the room flickered and died, plunging them into darkness.
"Malik!" Snape's voice cut through the gloom. "Control it!"
Shahzaib struggled, feeling the shadows writhe around him. With a monumental effort, he forced the Umbra Anima back, gasping as light returned to the room.
Snape regarded him with a mixture of disdain and... was that approval? "Better," he said grudgingly. "But not good enough. You must learn to harness this power, not simply suppress it. We will continue tomorrow night."
Exhausted and shaken, Shahzaib stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower. He collapsed into bed, his mind reeling from the evening's events.
"Oi," Aiden's voice drifted over. "You look like you've been wrestling a Hippogriff. What did Snape do to you?"
Shahzaib managed a weak chuckle. "Worse. He made me organize his personal collection of hair grease. I may never recover."
Aiden snorted. "Brutal. Get some sleep, mate. You look like you need it."
As Aiden's snores filled the dormitory, Shahzaib glanced at his watch. 11:45 PM. With a groan, he hauled himself out of bed. He had a date with a certain Ravenclaw in the Restricted Section.
Sneaking through the castle at night was never easy, but with the Umbra Anima heightening his senses, Shahzaib found he could slip through the shadows with ease. He reached the library without incident, his heart racing as he spotted Zara waiting for him.
"I was beginning to think you'd stood me up," she whispered, her eyes glinting in the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"And miss out on all this excitement? Never," Shahzaib grinned, gesturing to the dusty shelves around them.
Zara rolled her eyes, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. "Come on, I want to show you something."
She led him deep into the Restricted Section, past rows of books that whispered and growled as they passed. Finally, she stopped in front of an ancient-looking tome.
"This," she said, pulling it carefully from the shelf, "is a treatise on rare magical conditions. Including something called the Umbra Anima."
Shahzaib's breath caught in his throat. "Zara, I—"
"Don't," she cut him off. "I know you're keeping secrets, Shahzaib. I'm not asking you to tell me everything. But I want to help, if I can."
He stared at her, torn between the desire to confide in her and the fear of putting her in danger. The Umbra Anima stirred within him, shadows curling around his fingers.
Zara's eyes widened as she noticed. "Shahzaib, your hands..."
Before he could respond, a low chuckle echoed through the library. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
They whirled around to find Peeves the Poltergeist floating above them, a wicked grin on his translucent face.
"Ickle students out of bed," he cackled. "Should tell Filch, I should. Or maybe old Snape-y. He'd love to catch you two lovebirds in the act."
"Peeves, please," Shahzaib hissed. "We'll leave right now, just don't—"
But Peeves was already taking a deep breath, ready to bellow and alert the whole castle.
In that moment, Shahzaib felt the Umbra Anima surge within him. Without thinking, he thrust out his hand, shadows exploding from his fingertips. They wrapped around Peeves, muffling his shout and binding him in place.
Zara gasped. "Shahzaib, what—how did you—"
"I'll explain later," he said quickly, grabbing her hand. "We need to go. Now."
They ran from the library, hearts pounding, leaving a very confused and angry Peeves in their wake. They didn't stop until they reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor.
"Okay," Zara panted, leaning against the wall. "I think it's time for that explanation."
Shahzaib took a deep breath, feeling the weight of secrets pressing down on him. "You're right. I owe you the truth. But not here. Meet me by the lake tomorrow after dinner. I'll tell you everything."
Zara nodded, her eyes searching his face. Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed him. It was brief, but electric, sending shockwaves through Shahzaib's entire body.
"For luck," she whispered, pulling away. "Goodnight, Shahzaib."
As she disappeared down the corridor, Shahzaib touched his lips, still tingling from the kiss. The Umbra Anima hummed contentedly within him, shadows dancing at his fingertips.
"Well," he muttered to himself, "that's one way to end a night of rule-breaking and dark magic."