Soren strode through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. The flickering lights cast long shadows and the air was cool, laced with the scent of old parchment and candle wax.

As he moved, the portraits lining the walls watched him with quiet curiosity. Some muttered among themselves, their whispers barely audible over the steady rhythm of his steps. He had learned long ago which portraits delighted in gossip and which actually had something worthwhile to say.

The halls, which normally pulsed with the chatter of students and the occasional shouts of Peeves causing mischief, were silent now. He liked it this way. With no one around, there was no need for carefully measured words, no need to weigh the power dynamics in the room.