As the year wore on, Harry continued his double life at Hogwarts — by day, a brilliant student, and by night, a skilled Assassin in training. His prowess in magic had grown even sharper. His duels were precise, his spells cast with a level of mastery that few could rival. But it was his physical prowess that was becoming even more impressive.
What Harry didn't expect was how his training began to bleed into his everyday life. He became more aware of his surroundings, sensing the hidden tensions within the castle. He could tell when people were lying, detect subtle changes in the atmosphere, and he could move through the crowded halls without being noticed.
It wasn't long before Hermione and Ron noticed the change.
"Harry," Hermione said one day after class, eyeing him suspiciously. "You're... different."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, though he knew exactly what she was talking about.
"You move like... well, like you're trying not to be seen," Hermione continued. "And you've been disappearing more often. Where do you go at night?"
Ron frowned. "Mate, if you're sneaking around to get up to something dangerous again, you can tell us. We'll help."
Harry hesitated. He couldn't tell them everything, not yet. The Brotherhood was a secret that had been kept for centuries, and until he was certain of the danger they were facing, he couldn't risk exposing them.
"Just... personal training," Harry said vaguely. "I need to be ready for Voldemort."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't press further. Ron shrugged, seemingly content with Harry's explanation.