It was supposed to be a normal night.

The dungeons of Hogwarts were thick with laughter, the kind that only comes when curfew’s been broken and no one cares anymore. Mattheo, you, and the rest of your Slytherin friends had taken over the common room — cards sprawled across the table, bottles of firewhiskey clinking, music echoing faintly off the cold stone walls.

Theo was dealing a new hand, Blaise leaning back in his chair with that lazy smirk of his. Enzo was telling a story no one believed, and Mattheo had his arm around your waist, his head resting against the couch, watching the chaos with amusement.

And then — it started.

The laughter dimmed first, dying out like the air had been sucked from the room. The portraits went silent. The flames in the fireplace snapped once… then went out.

Darkness swallowed the room whole.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then — a sound. Sharp, cold, wrong.

A phone rang.

Not the echo of an enchanted object. Not the toll of the castle’s bells. A real phone.

Theo frowned. “What the hell—?”

Before anyone could stop you, you picked it up. The room was so silent you could hear the tremble in your own breath.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was smooth. Mocking. “Do you like scary movies?”

A chill crept through your veins. You looked at Mattheo — but he was already on his feet, wand in hand.

At first, everyone laughed. It had to be a prank. Maybe Peeves. Maybe someone using an enchantment.

Until the voice continued — describing you.

Exactly what Theo was wearing. How Blaise had just shuffled the deck. How your hand had tightened around Mattheo’s wrist.

You dropped the phone.

Footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.

And then — a shape moved in the window. A mask. White. Hollow. Grinning.

“Who’s there?!” Enzo shouted, raising his wand. A blast of green light tore from the tip — but it flickered, useless, like the magic had been smothered.

The glass shattered.

Screams. Chaos. The mask moved through the window like smoke — fast, fluid, unstoppable. A flash of silver cut through the air.

Blaise fell first.

Theo lunged to grab him, but the knife sliced across his arm — blood splattering across the floor.

“Protego!” Enzo roared, his spell lighting the room in a flash of red — but when the light faded, the figure was still there. Untouched.

Mattheo shoved you behind him, fury burning in his eyes. “Stay down,” he hissed.

The mask turned, tilting its head in that slow, deliberate way that made your stomach twist.

One by one, the screams fell silent. And then — nothing.

The common room was still. Broken glass glinted in the moonlight. The air was thick with iron and fear.

Only Mattheo and you remained.

The mask faced you both. A pause. Then — a step forward. Another. Knife glinting.

By morning, no one could explain what they found.

Shattered glass. Broken wands. A single card — the Queen of Spades — soaked in red. And a trail of blood leading from the Slytherin common room… all the way to the Black Lake.

If the phone rings tonight…

don’t answer it.