Chapter Text
History of Magic class first thing in the morning was, without a doubt, the worst torture that could be inflicted on anyone.
Second fought with all his might to keep his eyes open; for several days now, the young Gryffindor had not been able to sleep well, as those strange nightmares continued, his marks would not leave him in peace, and that unknown woman kept appearing in his dreams... and Professor Binns' monotonous voice did not help at all.
The ghost professor floated slowly in front of the blackboard, reciting dates and names with a voice that seemed specifically designed to lull students to sleep. The words entered through one ear and left through the other without leaving a trace.
Second leaned his cheek on his hand, feeling his head grow heavier and heavier. Don't fall asleep. The young wizard always had... difficulties waking up early. What could he say? He liked to sleep... but those nightmares were making his already existing sleep problems much more difficult.
An involuntary smile formed on his face when he remembered the affectionate nickname his father used to call him since he was little:
"My little Sleepy Niffler."
He said that, just as nifflers hide to sleep among piles of treasure, Second could fall asleep in any corner, at any time, regardless of the chaos around him. His eyelids finally gave way.
"...and in the year fourteen hundred—"
Second jerked upright, nearly falling off the bench when his head gave a small lurch forward.
Yellow, sitting beside him, brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh while quickly folding a sheet of paper under the table.
"Everything okay?" he whispered with a cheeky smile.
Second snorted silently, rubbing his eyes and trying to regain his dignity.
"Leave me alone," he muttered with a grimace.
The ghost professor kept talking, oblivious to everything. Second rolled his eyes and looked down at Yellow’s hands, which continued folding the paper with suspicious concentration.
"May I know what you’re doing?" he whispered, leaning in a little.
Yellow didn't respond immediately. He finished the last fold with exaggerated care and then held up the sheet to show him.
It was a small origami bird. Second arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.
"...and that is?"
The young Ravenclaw let out a low laugh.
"You’d be surprised what one learns during History of Magic," he whispered. "And I’m not talking about history."
Before Second could reply, Yellow brought the little bird to his lips and blew softly.
The paper shivered. And then... it came to life. The small origami bird flapped its wings and went fluttering through the classroom, describing clumsy but charming circles. Several heads turned to watch it pass, and more than one student had to bite their lip to keep from laughing.
The bird fluttered around Purple, landing gently on his finger as he looked at the paper with a sweet smile, before taking another hop and settling on Green’s head, nestling into his hair as if it were an improvised nest.
"Hey!" the boy exclaimed, holding back a laugh.
Blue covered her mouth with her hand, smiling.
Gold had to bow his head, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Second couldn't help but laugh too, while the professor continued with his monologue, completely oblivious to the small chaos that had formed in his classroom.
Red’s eyes sparkled as if she had just seen an extremely rare creature. She gave a couple of restrained little hops in her seat when the origami bird approached her, reaching out her hands carefully, as if she feared scaring it away.
"Look, look!" she whispered excitedly. "Isn't it adorable?"
The little bird flapped its wings once more, flew in a small arc... and then disintegrated. Reduced to ashes in the air, which fell onto Red's desk.
The classroom fell into absolute silence.
The laughter was choked off instantly. Even Professor Binns stopped mid-sentence for the first time since Second could remember. All eyes turned toward the entrance. There stood Professor Herobrine, erect, with his wand still raised.
Second felt a chill run down his spine. He saw out of the corner of his eye how Red shrank into her seat, immediately losing all her energy, like a small animal surprised by a predator.
The ghost floated until he was a few centimeters from the floor, blinking in confusion.
"Oh... Professor Herobrine," he said in his dull voice, "is something the matter?"
Herobrine took a step into the classroom. His boots resonated too loudly on the stone floor.
"What is the matter," he replied coldly, "is that the first-year students seem to have forgotten they are in a classroom and not a circus."
His eyes slowly scanned the rows of desks. Stopping on Second’s group. Professor Binns turned slowly toward the indicated group, accidentally passing through a desk in the process.
"Children...?" he asked in a neutral tone, as if debating between expecting a reasonable explanation and finding a reason to care enough.
Second felt all his muscles tense up. Yellow was the first to react.
"We're sorry, Professor," he said in a low voice. More regretful for getting his friends into trouble than for Professor Herobrine's accusation.
"Yes, it won't happen again," Second added quickly.
Blue nodded politely, Red murmured an almost inaudible "sorry," and Gold and Green lowered their heads with serious expressions. Purple, for his part, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, also apologizing for interrupting the class.
Professor Binns blinked a couple more times.
"Oh... well..." he said finally. "As long as it doesn't happen again... we can continue with the goblin rebellion of the—"
"No." Herobrine's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Binns stopped mid-sentence, surprised. Herobrine took another step forward, stowing his wand with a sharp movement.
"An apology does not correct a fault," he declared. "And even less so when a class is interrupted."
"Professor Herobrine, I think..." Binns began hesitantly. All the students were now paying absolute attention. Something that never happened in History of Magic class.
"Twenty points from each of your houses... per student."
"What!?" Green exclaimed.
Second bit his lip to contain himself; his house had the most to lose because of him, Green, and Red.
"And two hours of detention." Herobrine didn't even look at him. "All those involved. Today, after the last class." A murmur of protest ran through the group.
"Two hours?" Green said, not hiding his indignation. "But it was just a paper bird!"
"Professor, please..." Purple pleaded.
"Professor... it was only my fault," Yellow murmured this time. "It isn't necessary to punish every—"
"If you are an accomplice, you are also guilty," Herobrine cut him off without the slightest hint of patience. Yellow froze.
"And as for you," the professor added, pinning his eyes on him, "a letter will be sent to your parents informing them of your misconduct, and another thirty points will be deducted from your house."
Yellow shrank even further into his seat, as if he wanted to disappear inside his robes. His hands clenched tightly over the desk, and he did not look up again.
Second felt a knot in his stomach. He looked sideways at Yellow, but didn't dare say anything.
No one dared. Herobrine then turned toward Professor Binns, barely tilting his head.
"Professor Binns."
"Oh... yes, of course..." the ghost replied, blinking slowly. "Thank you for... er... your intervention."
Herobrine didn't answer. He simply turned around and left the classroom, striding through the door. For a long, awkward second, no one said anything. Professor Binns floated to the center of the classroom, shrugged with total indifference, and went back to consulting his notes.
"Well..." he said, as if nothing had happened. "As I was saying... the goblin rebellion of the thirteenth century was a tremendously misunderstood matter..."
History of Magic had returned to its previous soporific normalcy. Second propped his chin on his hand abruptly, tapping the table with the other hand, completely indignant. He felt his heart beating fast due to anger. It had only been a small joke; it wasn't that big of a deal!
He kept moving uncomfortably until he saw his wrist out of the corner of his eye. The sleeve had slipped down a bit because of his position, and he could see how his marks were winding slowly, with a subtle glow.
Second hid his hand quickly, looking to the sides to make sure no one had seen them. The boy had learned that those marks reacted to his emotions; when he was very angry or sad, they grew. The only time they seemed to stay still was when he was calm. Which made them very difficult to manage.
Second stirred the food on his plate distractedly, frowning. He was still indignant about Herobrine's unjust and completely disproportionate punishment. But he forced himself to breathe slowly, not to let the anger rise more than necessary.
Calm.
He stabbed a roasted potato with his fork just as a voice sounded beside him.
"Hello."
Second gave such a sharp start that he almost knocked over his glass. He looked up suddenly. Chosen was there, standing next to him with a cautious expression. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't seem angry either.
That is to say, his usual expression... or rather, lack of expression.
"Can I sit?"
Second didn't respond, only settling for shrugging, as if he didn't care at all. Chosen took that as a yes and sat down beside him, resting his forearms on the table. For a few seconds, neither said anything.
The noise of the dining hall filled the void. Then Chosen spoke:
"I already know you've been punished." Second went rigid.
"You already know!?" he jumped, horrified, turning toward him.
Chosen arched an eyebrow, and for a fraction of a second he seemed... satisfied. Proud of himself for having managed to get Second to speak to him so quickly.
"Yes," he confirmed. "Victim told me."
"Victim too?" Second turned terribly pale.
This was too much. Second let his forehead drop against the table with a dull thud, covering his face with his hands.
"Great..." he murmured from there. "Just great."
Chosen looked at him with a mixture of amusement and sympathy for his younger brother.
"Second..." he began.
But Second didn't lift his head. He dedicated himself to breathing deeply, very deeply, trying to keep at bay everything that was boiling inside of him. Chosen gave him a light nudge in the side with his elbow.
"Hey, take it easy," he said in a low voice. "Don't worry. The bar that Dark and I left is way too high. You aren't going to get in trouble for this."
Second didn't respond. He limited himself to sitting up slowly, returning to his normal posture. His hands remained tense, resting on the table, while he tried to hold his breath.
Chosen then sighed.
Second lowered his head because he knew perfectly well what was coming next.
"Listen... you should talk to Victim," Chosen said finally. "You've been avoiding him for weeks."
Second turned his head sharply, frowning.
"And why should I?" he replied. "He told Dad everything without saying anything to me; he can go on without doing it."
Chosen pressed his lips together for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
"Second..." he started, "Victim didn't do it to annoy you."
"Of course not," Second snorted. "He did it to control me. Like always... Well, it didn't go well for him."
Chosen shook his head.
"Second, you aren't making this easy at all."
Second looked away, beginning to stab the potato with more force with his fork.
"Listen, I know that..." The older boy paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Victim can be a bit suffocating sometimes."
Second let out a snort.
"But he loves you a lot; he just wants you to be okay."
Second didn't respond. He continued eating slowly, stabbing the fork with too much precision into the food, concentrated on maintaining calm. In not letting the emotions invade him again. In making sure that stayed where it was.
Chosen observed him for a couple more seconds... and then rolled his eyes.
"You're just like Dark," he murmured.
Second didn't even flinch. Chosen sighed, bringing a hand to his temples and rubbing them with exhaustion, as if his head ached. Second looked at him sideways.
"Is something wrong with you?"
Chosen hesitated a second before responding.
"I don't know..." he admitted. "I've been sensing something for a while. For weeks. Like a strange feeling." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "I wouldn't know how to explain it."
Second's stomach did a flip.
For an instant, his expression changed enough for Chosen to notice.
"Hey," he added immediately, "take it easy. I'm sure it's nothing." He tried to downplay it with a somewhat awkward smile. "Probably stress, or the weird atmosphere there’s been lately."
Second nodded slowly, without saying anything.
His older brother was an incredible wizard. He had talent for almost everything. His father even told him how Chosen was able, from a young age, to predict things; apparently he had an unnatural talent for divination and arithmancy. Second couldn't help but shudder at the thought that his brother was sensing his marks.
Chosen lowered his voice a bit, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Just... listen to me on this, okay?" he said. "Try to fix things with Victim before going home for Christmas. Please."
Second still didn't respond.
He didn't promise anything. He simply looked down at his plate and continued eating in silence, while inside he struggled to keep everything under control.
The classroom was in absolute silence, broken only by the constant scratching of quills on parchment. Second’s wrist was already aching.
I must not disturb in class.
I must not disturb in class.
I must not disturb in class.
He had lost count of how many times he had written the sentence. When, at the beginning of the detention, Blue had raised her hand to ask how many lines they had to write, Professor Herobrine hadn't even looked up from his papers. "As many as I consider necessary for the message to sink in," he had responded coldly.
That had been all. Now, all the punished students were spread across the classroom:
Green writing with a moody expression, Yellow nervous and with a feeling of guilt for getting his friends in trouble printed on his face, Blue writing upright, though every now and then she shifted uncomfortably, Gold advancing quickly as if he wanted to finish as soon as possible, Purple in absolute silence... three Slytherin students in the back, and Red.
Red was sitting straight, unnaturally straight, writing with almost unnatural care. Every time she looked up, for just a second, barely to rest her eyes, she met Herobrine's gaze fixed on her.
Herobrine approached slowly, his steps echoing too loudly on the stone floor. He leaned over her shoulder, observing the parchment.
"Miss Red."
Red's quill stopped dead.
"Y-yes, Professor?" she responded, swallowing hard.
"You are going slowly."
"I-I am writing as best as I can, Professor," she said in a low voice.
"It is not enough," he replied. "If you finish after the rest, I will add another hour of detention for you."
Red pressed her lips together and nodded without saying anything, lowering her head and resuming writing with renewed urgency.
Second felt a prickle of rage, but looked down immediately. He could see out of the corner of his eye how Green gripped the quill harder in his hand, until he bent it in half.
Breathe.
Stay calm.
Herobrine straightened up and went back to pacing the classroom like a bored predator, inspecting parchments, correcting postures with taps on the back of the neck or verbal warnings.
After a while, he headed toward one of the shelves at the back, rummaging through dusty jars and books. Apparently, he didn't find what he was looking for, as he walked to the door with long strides.
"Continue writing," he ordered. "If I find that any of you are idling, your punishment will worsen considerably".
As soon as the door closed behind Herobrine, the classroom seemed to exhale in unison. Several quills dropped onto the desks almost at the same time. Second set his down with a low, discreet sigh. Around him, the oppressive silence transformed into a tired murmur. Blue carefully massaged her hand, flexing her fingers with a strained expression.
Yellow, meanwhile, had hunched over, his shoulders tense.
"I’m... I’m really sorry," he whispered, without looking up. "I didn’t want us all to get punished because of me"
Purple turned her head slightly toward him.
"Hey, it’s fine," He said calmly.
"Exactly!" Gold added, leaning back against his chair. "Herobrine is a bitter man. He would have found any excuse to punish us sooner or later".
Everyone looked at him.
Gold blinked, raising his hands in surrender.
"What? That’s what our father says about him when he thinks we aren’t listening".
Yellow frowned, hesitating for a moment before asking.
"And... haven't you gotten in trouble with Professor Mango for this?".
Gold and Purple shook their heads at the same time.
"Not at all," Purple replied. "Our father gets along terribly with Herobrine. When we told him, he just made that face of his, the 'I’m not going to comment' look".
"...and then he told us to behave," Gold finished, before shrugging. "I mean, if the punishment had come from another professor, he probably would have eaten us alive, but, well...".
Green nodded with amusement before fixing his gaze on his sister.
"Red, stop writing for a moment," he whispered. "Rest your hand, it’s going to go stiff".
Red shook her head quickly, not looking up from her parchment. "No... it’s okay. I’d rather keep going," she murmured. "I don’t want trouble with Herobrine".
Green frowned, about to insist... when a low, unpleasant laugh came from the back of the classroom. The three Slytherins.
"Look at her," one of them said mockingly. "She’s already had practice with Herobrine's punishments".
Red tensed immediately.
"Shut up, Ender," Green spat, turning in his seat. "The silence in this room is too enjoyable to have to listen to you talk nonsense".
Ender smirked, leaning back. "Ooh, but I haven't said anything," he mocked. "What’s wrong, Green? Can’t you take a joke?".
"No," Green replied sharply. "I’m just embarrassed for you. That you, Jack, and Spider talk about 'experience' when the most productive thing you've done at Hogwarts is occupy space".
Jack let out a laugh; Spider clicked his tongue, amused.
Red raised her head slightly, nervous.
"But... this time it wasn't me..." she tried to justify herself in a low voice.
Green turned toward her, surprised.
"This time?" he asked. "Have you been in detention with Herobrine before?".
Spider couldn't hold it in and laughed openly.
"No... I mean, yes, but only once... It wasn't that big of a deal," Red said, shrinking into herself.
"Wasn't that big of a deal?" Jack intervened with a cruel smile. "Come on. You haven't told your little brother about the pig?".
Second felt his blood boil with rage.
"Pig? What pig? Reuben? What about him?" Green asked, remembering his sister's pet pig.
Jack continued, enjoying the story. "Turns out little Red decided it was a good idea to let the pig loose in Hogwarts".
"It was an accident!" Red protested, turning red. "He escaped on his own...".
"Sure freak," Ender said this time. "And then that pig went into the dungeons, knocked over three tables, drank half a shelf of potions, and ended up chasing Herobrine down the hallway".
Spider leaned forward.
"They say Herobrine didn't even scream," he added. "That was the worst part. He just looked at her... for five whole minutes".
Red lowered her head, gripping her quill tightly. Green stood up from his seat, furious, followed by Second and Gold.
"Are you finished?" he said through gritted teeth. "Because if not, I can explain what happens if you keep talking".
Ender, Jack, and Spider did the same, completely determined to continue the fun.
Second felt something simmering inside him. A growing, dense pressure that rose from his chest to his throat. He saw Red with her head down and how Purple leaned toward her, whispering something he couldn't hear. Green was standing, trembling with contained rage, and Gold was already by his side, fists clenched, clearly decided to throw himself at any of the other three.
Blue stood up slowly, placing herself between the two groups. "That’s enough," she said in a firm but calm voice. "Stop. It's not worth it".
Yellow stayed right behind her, watching in silence, evaluating every movement, clearly also ready to jump in if they said anything else.
But the Slytherins didn't stop. Ender smiled, tilting his head as he looked directly at Second.
"And what are you going to do?" he mocked. "Call your brothers?".
Jack laughed under his breath. Something crackled in the air.
A green spark flickered around Second.
Green turned suddenly.
"Second...?" he started.
But it was too late. The magic inside him began to disperse without his permission. Green lines glowed under Second's skin, traveling up his hands, snaking up his arms, and climbing to his face. The air around him began to vibrate, swirling as if an invisible storm had decided to form right there. Tables shook, parchments flew into the air, and candles flickered violently.
"W-What...?" Spider managed to say, eyes wide as saucers, but he didn't finish the sentence.
A brutal force threw them forward. Ender, Jack, and Spider were sent flying like ragdolls, crashing into the floor several meters away, sliding between desks with a dull thud.
The classroom fell into absolute silence. Second was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently. The magic was still vibrating around him, untamed and dangerous.
Second blinked several times, returning to reality, suddenly taking in the state of the room.
"No..." he whispered.
He looked down at his hands. The green marks were still glowing faintly, but they were already receding, pulling back under his skin as if nothing had happened. The air stopped vibrating around him, and the candles stabilized. His fingers were trembling.
He raised his head slowly. The Color Gang was looking at him.
Green was petrified.
Gold's eyes were wide, dangerously caught between amazement and absolute terror.
Blue put a hand to her mouth, horrified.
Yellow didn't move... but his gaze was fixed on Second, completely alert.
Purple had wrapped a protective arm around Red, instinctively covering her.
For an eternal second, no one dared to speak.
The three Slytherins began to get up from the floor, clumsy and aching. Jack was the first to react, pointing at him with a trembling finger.
"We’re telling Herobrine about this!".
"Yeah!" Ender added, backing away. "This isn't over!".
And they ran toward the door. Second's heart sank, and he stood completely still, petrified, feeling as if the world were collapsing on him all at once. They had seen it. All. His. Friends..
They knew his secret.
But he didn't have time to think further.
"Second, come on! sit down!" Green whispered urgently.
He and Gold pushed him almost at the same time, returning him to his desk just as Blue raised her wand with impeccable speed.
"Reparo".
The tables returned to their places and the parchments flew back to the desks. The classroom looked... normal. Then, as one last book finished placing itself gently on a shelf, the door burst open.
Herobrine entered with the three Slytherins behind him, all talking at once.
"Professor, he attacked us!".
"He used magic!".
"He threw us through the air!".
Herobrine stopped dead, scanning the room. Everything was in order. The students were seated and the quills were writing.
"Is this a joke?" he said in a dangerous voice.
Second lowered his head, pretending to write while his pulse was still racing.
"No! It was him!" Spider insisted, pointing at him.
Herobrine looked at them one by one with absolute coldness.
"Three students interrupting their detention and causing a scene".
Silence.
"One more hour of detention. All three of you." A pause. "And consider this your final warning".
The Slytherins protested indignantly, but Herobrine had already turned around.
"Continue writing".
The scratching of quills filled the room once more. Second kept writing the sentence without really seeing it.
I must not cause trouble in class.
I must not cause trouble in class.
But he felt it.
I must not cause trouble in class.
Everyone's eyes were on him.
I must not cause trouble in class.
I must not cause trouble in class.
Second swallowed hard.
He was no longer alone with his secret.