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

The fire in the Ravenclaw common room crackled softly, casting gold and amber across the midnight blue walls. Most of the students had already gone to bed, but Harris sat alone, Codex on his lap, trying to decipher the latest runes on the second page. They were changing again, not in form, but in weight. Some of them pulsed faintly with his heartbeat.

The castle itself had been groaning lately, doors stuck when they shouldn't, windows shimmered with frost despite the warm spring wind. Even the staircases had begun shifting more often, as if the magic inside Hogwarts had become restless.

After trying so hard to decipher the codex 2nd page, he felt hunger as he skipped his meal today at the great hall as he wanted to focus.

He quietly went out of the Ravenclaw Dorm, and then went to the kitchen, while on the way the secret tunnel that he usually takes was pulsing and then suddenly flames appeared,

"What the hell" Harris quickly backed away,

The flames turned silver.

Then white.

And from the center stepped a tall figure, wrapped in deep violet robes embroidered with gold runes. His half-moon glasses reflected the firelight, and his long beard shimmered like snowfall.

"Headmaster…" Harris shocked and then he calmed down. "Sir."

"Good evening, Mr. Wells," said Albus Dumbledore, his voice calm and soft, yet unmistakably filled with power. "May I have a word?"

Harris nodded.

"I hear," Dumbledore said after a pause, "you've taken quite the interest in the castle's older sections."

Harris felt his pulse spike but said nothing.

Dumbledore looked at the Codex in Harris's hand. His gaze lingered.

"Some books," he said softly, "are not written by human hands. Some doors are meant to remain closed. Yet… some boys open them anyway."

He looked up, and Harris met his eyes.

There was no anger in them.

Only sorrow.

"Do you know what you've done, Harris?"

Harris swallowed. "I didn't mean to. Not fully."

Dumbledore nodded gently. "The creature you disturbed, it is not from our time. Not even from our plane of magic. It was sealed here, long ago, by founders and forces most people today have never heard of."

He leaned closer.

"And now, it stirs."

Harris looked down at the Codex. "I thought the book was helping us."

"It is," Dumbledore said. "But help and harm often share a knife's edge."

The dim lights in the tunnel flickered.

"I will not stop you," Dumbledore said at last. "You have already walked too far into the woods for me to call you back. But I will warn you, the deeper truths of this castle are older than even I understand."

He paused.

"And you are not the first to find the Codex."

Harris's breath caught. "There were others?"

"Yes," Dumbledore whispered. "Two others in Hogwarts history. One vanished. The other… went mad."

Silence followed.

Harris looked at the Codex carefully and gently.

"What should I do?"

Dumbledore smiled faintly.

"What you always do. Think before you leap. But when you leap, fly."

"And next time… come to me sooner. I will always be there for those who need help, Mr. Wells."

And with that, he stepped back into the silver flame and vanished.

The tunnel lights dimmed again.

The shadows returned.

But Harris no longer felt alone.