Rewritten Magic: The Chronicles of Harris Wells ( A HP Fanfic)

Something felt… off.

Harris noticed it first the next morning.

When he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, the enchanted ceiling was flickering, just slightly. A few clouds stuttered as if caught in a loop. The sunbeam that usually lit the Ravenclaw table wasn't where it should be. It was as though the magic in the castle had hiccupped.

He blinked and looked again.

Everything seemed normal.

Too normal.

Summer and Alex joined him minutes later, both carrying their usual breakfast, toast, eggs, tea. But Harris was still staring at the ceiling.

"You see that?" he asked quietly.

Alex frowned. "See what?"

Summer followed his gaze. Her brow furrowed. "It just shimmered."

"Exactly," Harris said. "And that's not supposed to happen."

Before they could talk more, Professor Flitwick stood up at the staff table and tapped his spoon against his goblet.

"Attention, students!" he squeaked. "A small change in today's schedule: all classes after lunch are canceled. Please remain in your House common rooms after noon."

A murmur swept through the room.

Canceled classes? At Hogwarts?

That never happened.

Harris's stomach sank.

Across the Hall, even the professors were whispering among themselves. McGonagall looked tense. Snape's expression was unreadable. Hagrid seemed unusually quiet, his massive hands resting stiffly on the table.

Dumbledore wasn't even present.

And that… was worrying.

Back in the Ravenclaw common room, Harris paced in front of the fireplace, the Codex lying closed in his satchel.

"I don't like this," he muttered. "Hogwarts runs like a clock. Precise. Protected. You don't just cancel classes without a reason."

Summer nodded. "My father once told me if the wards around Hogwarts ever falter, it's not just a mistake. It's a warning."

"Wards?" Alex asked.

"Magical protections," Harris explained. "Every inch of this castle is layered with spells. Some of them are ancient. Some are alive."

Alex looked nervous. "So… what could mess with those?"

They didn't answer.

Because they didn't know.

That night, things got stranger.

In the corridor near the Astronomy Tower, a suit of armor began screaming in a forgotten dialect. A group of Hufflepuffs swore they saw a stone wall ripple like water. In the dungeons, the temperature dropped low enough to freeze ink inside the inkwells.

And then,

A second-year Gryffindor girl was found unconscious near the library entrance.

No wounds. No injuries.

Just… cold.

As if she had been drained.

The professors said it was just a "magical exhaustion." Nothing to worry about.

But Harris wasn't convinced.

He sat in the darkened common room with Summer and Alex after curfew. The fire flickered low.

"The Codex warned me," Harris said quietly. "That truth comes at a price. That there are things buried in this castle, things even the Headmaster doesn't talk about."

"And now it's waking up," Summer added.

"Whatever's wrong with Hogwarts," Alex said slowly, "do you think… we caused it?"

Harris looked at the Codex in his hands.

The violet cover shimmered faintly, like it was breathing.

"I don't know," he said. "But I think we're part of it now. And the castle knows."

Outside, the wind howled against the windows.

A new page began to form inside the Codex, without Harris even opening it.

And for the first time, the book didn't ask permission.

It commanded:

"Descend. Below the foundation. Beneath the roots of stone. Where the Forgotten Sleep. Where the First Flame waits."

Summer read it over his shoulder and whispered, "That… that doesn't sound like a riddle."

Harris closed the book slowly.

"No," he said. "It's an invitation."