The term had barely begun, but something felt off at Hogwarts.
It wasn't just the crisp September breeze filtering through the open windows of the castle or the hum of excitement from new students adjusting to magical life. There was something else. Something flickering—barely noticeable—but there.
Stray candles would flicker into strange colors. Hallway portraits, even the laziest ones, glanced at shadows as though someone just passed. A few first-years complained about "dreams that felt too real" but were quickly brushed off as overwhelmed imaginations. Still, whispers passed through the corridors faster than Peeves could spread mischief.
One morning, as Professor Longbottom walked through the greenhouse, the vines of a Fanged Geranium suddenly began growing backwards, as though time itself were hesitating. He blinked, confused. It hadn't happened again… but something gnawed at him.
It started with the staircases, which refused to follow their usual paths. Then the portraits began whispering in languages they had never spoken before—some even changed subjects mid-sentence, as if struggling to remember where they were. Lily got stuck in the girls' bathroom for a whole hour when the door decided it was a wall. Hugo's cauldron grew legs during Potions and ran around the dungeon until Neville stunned it.
"Alright, who jinxed the castle?" Fred II grinned during breakfast.
But no one laughed. The magic didn't feel funny—it felt… confused.
Even McGonagall couldn't explain it. "We believe it's a temporary destabilization," she told the prefects, "likely due to the heavy magical activity from last term."
Rose, however, wasn't convinced.
She kept dreaming of Minerva and Daisy—soft voices in candlelit corridors, always warning her that something was still wrong. "Stay grounded. Stay in the light. Don't chase the wrong shadows," they kept saying.
In her dorm, Rose kept a parchment filled with notes. She, Albus, and Scorpius had started writing down every odd occurrence. By the end of the first week, the list had doubled.
At the Ministry of Magic, James Potter's first few weeks as an Auror had been mostly spent in quiet observation. Teddy, always one to make space for people to grow on their own, had given James a mix of small assignments and freedom to investigate. But James wasn't exactly chasing cauldron leak violations. He had one target in mind—the one hidden beneath layers of silence: the Time Devil.
Ever since he'd found the reports from Godric's Hollow, James hadn't been able to rest. He kept Daisy and Minerva's notes in his coat pocket, rereading them at odd hours, trying to extract something new. Today, he wasn't going to waste another second.
He was in the Department of Mysteries.
It took a few "wrong turns" and some clever distractions, but he reached a sealed archive. With a Disillusionment Charm over himself and his wand ready, he opened the door. The air inside was heavy—almost frozen—and there were old reports. A box labeled "Temporal Anomalies — Red List" sat quietly in a corner.
Inside: more files. More warnings.
One file had been buried under others, its corners bent and ink faded.
Subject: The One Called the Time Devil.Appearance: Golden-brown hair, silver eyes.Threat Level: Unrated (Highest potential).Description: Not a being of time, but one twisted by it. Obsessed with restoring a version of the past that never existed. Capable of altering timelines through direct and indirect contact. Seeks the Five. Already affected two. One remains uncorrupted.
James's blood froze.
He knew it. Nova.
Back at Hogwarts…
The library became a second home for Rose, Al, and Scorpius. They found an old divination book that mentioned temporal echoing—a magical phenomenon where the past bleeds into the present.
"I think the castle's trying to remember something," Rose whispered.
"Or warn us," Scorpius added.
Nova, now a proud Hufflepuff, had noticed it too. Her quill danced on its own once. And sometimes, in the Great Hall, she'd see shadows that didn't belong to anyone.
But for now, the teachers brushed it off.
"It's just back-to-school jitters," Professor Longbottom said kindly. "The castle will settle down."
Only, it didn't.
And one evening, when Lily was walking back to Gryffindor Tower alone, all the torches in the corridor suddenly extinguished. For a moment, she saw a girl standing at the end—red hair, green eyes. Then she was gone.
When she told Albus and Rose, they didn't laugh. They added it to the list.
And somewhere deep in the Ministry, James Potter circled the same three words in his notebook:
The Devil is watching.
James sat at his new desk in the Auror Department, trying not to look like the youngest person in the entire office—which, of course, he was. Teddy passed by occasionally, giving him a reassuring nod.
But James couldn't stop thinking about what he'd found at Godric's Hollow—the letters from Minerva and Daisy, the scratch marks on the wall, the fact that no one told him sooner.
He couldn't let it go.
So, in between training drills and case reviews, James began pulling files quietly. He didn't want Teddy or Aunt Hermione to notice.
One day, while sifting through a stack labeled "Unsolved Arcane Interference," he found a sealed envelope with the words Temporal Displacement - Category Delta written on it.
Inside: a sketch of a woman with golden-brown hair and silver eyes.
No name. Just the codename: The Devil of Time.
The file was sparse but chilling. Strange disruptions in timelines. People who vanished only to reappear aged or altered. Magical symptoms resembling memory loss, but deeper.
James sat back, stunned. Is this what Minerva and Daisy were trying to stop? The red-haired girl in the visions—was she warning them from inside a broken stream of time?
James knew what he had to do.
Meanwhile, Nova had been enjoying Hufflepuff. Her new dorm felt cozy, and the warmth from the other students made her feel less alone. There was no war here, no pressure to save anyone—just laughter, classes, and occasionally sneaking extra biscuits from the kitchens with Lily and Hugo.
But then… the spells started misfiring.
Lily's feather in Charms class rose, spun wildly, and burst into golden sparkles. Their entire table stared, including Professor Flitwick.
"Curious…" he muttered.
In Transfiguration, Rose's spell made the teacup transform into a cat, then a candelabra, then a... book?
"Okay WHAT—"
McGonagall ordered her to try again. This time, nothing happened.
And down in the Slytherin common room, Albus's wand had started vibrating every time he walked near the entrance. Scorpius thought it was funny—until Al's cauldron in Potions exploded on command. Professor Slughorn didn't find it funny at all.
Nova sat on her bed, midnight in the Hufflepuff dormitory, staring out the window.
The stars didn't look as peaceful tonight.
She had a strange feeling she was being watched—but not by someone in the castle. It felt... older. Further away. Her wand was quiet beside her, but every now and then, the tip would spark silver—just once.
James closed the file, some 400 miles away, his heart racing.
He couldn't keep this to himself. Hermione needed to know. He left the Department of Mysteries at once, files clutched in hand, and burst into her office.
"Hermione, we have a problem."
Her eyes widened. "You found something."
James threw the file down. "It's real. The Time Devil. She's already in motion. And we're running out of time."