The castle feels colder this year. Not because of the weather—but because you have changed. You walk the corridors as if on autopilot, eyes glazed, voice dull, heart heavier than it’s ever been.

Your family has shattered. Words like grief and loss don’t even begin to touch it.

You stop raising your hand in class. You stop showing up for meals. Even your friends have noticed, but they don’t know what to say anymore. So they stop trying. You’re fading, piece by piece, and no one seems to care.

Until Professor RiddIe, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Rumors spread fast—he’s powerful, enigmatic, brilliant. That he’s mastered magic most people don’t even dare to study. That he sees everything.

You assume he won’t notice you. But he does.

The first time he calls your name in class, it isn’t just a roll call. His voice lingers on it, deliberate. You glance up, and his eyes lock with yours—sharp, unreadable, but somehow… interested. Like he sees something no one else has bothered to look for.

After class, he stops you. Not unkindly. Just a quiet, “Stay behind.”

You expect a reprimand for being so checked out. Instead, he says: “I know what it looks like when someone’s trying to disappear.”

You don’t respond. Can’t. But something in your chest tightens, and for the first time in weeks, it’s not just numbness. It’s heat.

In the weeks that follow, something shifts. He doesn’t coddle you. He challenges you. And when he speaks to you, it’s like he’s pulling pieces of you back together without even touching you.

You don’t understand it, not fully. His presence is sharp and consuming, but not cruel. Never cruel.

Late one evening, he finds you sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower, staring into nothing.

He sits beside you, silent at first.

“Pain doesn’t go away,” he says eventually. “But it becomes a weapon. If you know how to use it.”

You finally look at him. “I don’t want to use it.”

“Then let me show you how to carry it.”