Chapter 43 – Echoes Within the Stone
Saturday morning at Hogwarts was quiet—the kind of quiet that settled gently, like dust on ancient tomes. Light filtered through the tall windows of the Gryffindor dormitory, illuminating the red and gold tapestries and casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Thomas stirred from his bed before anyone else in the room had awakened. Fred and George snored in unison from their beds, and Lee Jordan had burrowed so far under his covers he looked like a wrapped parcel.
Thomas rose, dressed quickly, and tucked his sketch notebook into his satchel. He slipped quietly down the spiral staircase, out through the Gryffindor common room's portrait hole—murmuring "breaking glass" under his breath—and out into the castle proper.
He was determined to make the most of this free day. With no classes scheduled until Monday, it was the perfect chance to explore Hogwarts and prepare. He had a goal in mind: to locate the classrooms where his lessons would take place, understand the general layout of the school, and begin mapping it in his own way.
He started by descending through the stone hallways toward the dungeons. The deeper he went, the cooler the air became, and the torchlight flickered eerily against the damp walls. The dungeons were quiet—so quiet it made his own footsteps seem intrusive. As he moved through the corridors, he marked points of interest in his mind: the likely location of the Potions classroom based on the thick, pungent smell of herbs and burnt substances, the distant echo of running water, and the faint voices of Slytherin students gathered nearby.
After about an hour in the dungeons, he made his way back toward the main staircase, emerging into the Entrance Hall. Sunlight slanted in through the tall windows and glinted off the polished stone floor. The Great Hall was open for breakfast, though it was still early and only sparsely populated. A few students from different houses sat scattered along the tables, quietly eating or sipping pumpkin juice. He spotted Maribel Knox at the end of the Gryffindor table and gave her a polite nod.
He helped himself to a slice of toast and some pumpkin juice, finishing his meal in silence while observing the enchanted ceiling above. The sky mirrored the clear morning outside, and wisps of clouds drifted lazily overhead.
By the time he finished, more students had begun trickling in. Not wanting to be trapped in conversations, Thomas slipped away and began the second half of his self-assigned tour. He headed upward this time, moving floor by floor, hallway by hallway. He relied on his spatial memory and instincts, sketching out crude maps of the castle's layout in his notebook as he went. Every staircase, every portrait, every creaky floorboard was noted.
He found the Charms classroom on the third floor. Through the glass window, he spotted a tiny professor adjusting levitating ink bottles. He smiled—Professor Flitwick, clearly.
Further exploration led him to the Transfiguration classroom on the ground floor. The door bore a polished nameplate reading Professor Minerva McGonagall. He noted the room's clean symmetry and organized rows of desks.
He located what he suspected was the History of Magic classroom, a drafty, boring-looking room that felt like it hadn't been dusted in centuries.
By midday, he had successfully explored roughly half the classrooms listed in the first-year curriculum: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and History of Magic. He still had more to find—Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Herbology—but he felt confident in his progress. With half the day and half the castle mapped, he decided he would finish the rest tomorrow.
He returned briefly to the Gryffindor common room, where a few more students were now awake and chatting in the armchairs. Fred and George were animatedly recounting a dream involving dancing cauldrons, while Lee Jordan looked on skeptically.
"Didn't peg you for an early bird," Fred commented as Thomas passed.
"I've got places to find," Thomas replied with a small smile, tapping his notebook.
Fred waved lazily as Thomas passed through. "Exploring?"
Thomas nodded. "I've got half the castle mapped."
Lee Jordan gave him a slow blink. "I haven't even figured out where the bathrooms are."
Thomas chuckled but didn't stop. His mind was racing.
Back on the third floor, he made his way to a disused classroom he had seen earlier. Dusty, quiet, and with a door that closed firmly—it was perfect. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and took a deep breath.
Now came the real purpose of his exploration: testing whether his space magic worked inside the castle. He had suspected there were wards in place—Hogwarts was too old, too protected, to not have safeguards. But his preliminary analysis suggested they weren't absolute. They didn't block space magic outright, but rather created a kind of resistance—like trying to swim through molasses.
He began carefully. First, he activated Echo, letting it ripple softly outward in an almost imperceptible pulse. The magic passed through the room like a whisper, revealing the bounds of the space and confirming it was empty.
He set a copper coin on a desk across the room and held out his hand.
Reach.
The coin vanished with a faint shimmer and appeared in his palm. Clean. Precise. No backlash.
Encouraged, he performed Switch with a button and the coin. Again, the transfer occurred smoothly—just a slight tug in the air, like a thread being pulled taut.
Finally, he prepared to Blink. This was the most dangerous. It required the most energy, and the most spatial manipulation. He didn't know any silencing technique yet, so any magical ripple could echo into the castle's enchantments.
He focused on the opposite corner of the room, visualizing the space as still water. If he could step into it without a splash, he might avoid detection.
He slipped forward.
The sensation was familiar—like folding through a page of air—and he appeared at his destination with a soft thrum. No explosion. No ripple. Just a subtle bending of space.
He exhaled slowly. It had worked.
But it wasn't easy. The concentration required to keep the magic from disturbing the spatial layer of Hogwarts was immense. It was like walking a tightrope in the dark.
If I want to make this sustainable, he thought, I have to be able to do this without focusing so much. I can't afford to expend this level of effort every time.
That meant training. Constant, calculated training. Repetition until precision became instinct.
But to plan that training properly, he needed context.
He needed to understand the scale of the magic used in this world—what it could do, what it couldn't, and where his own space magic fit within that scale. Only by learning the foundation of standard wizarding education could he determine what should be his priority and what could be postponed.
He couldn't afford to be lopsided. Space magic was powerful, but Hogwarts would open doors to other disciplines, and he had to understand them all enough to make intelligent decisions.
Tomorrow, he thought, I'll go to the library.
He wanted textbooks. Course syllabi. Historical context. Everything.
He sat down on the floor of the classroom and began scribbling in his notebook:
Confirmed: Reach, Switch, and Blink work within Hogwarts with high focus.
Hypothesis: Hogwarts anti-space wards are passive and responsive—like pressure sensors in water.
Risk: Excessive use without subtlety could alert castle enchantments.
Action: Train to reduce ripple size during spatial displacement.
Need: Magical curriculum knowledge to determine priority of study areas.
Dinner was already being served when he returned to the Great Hall. This time, the room was full—students laughing, talking, and reaching for food with carefree excitement. He slid into a spot beside Fred and George, who were arguing about whether a spell could make Yorkshire pudding explode.
Thomas smiled, allowing himself—for now—to enjoy the warmth of the moment.
He had mapped half the school. He had tested his magic. He had a plan.
Tomorrow, the library. And after that, mastery.