The glowing, ginger eyes of Mrs. Norris widened until they looked like two polished amber coins. For a second, the cat seemed to weigh the odds of pouncing, but one look at the cold precision in Allen's stance sent her spinning on her heels. With a low, frustrated hiss, she vanished into the gloom of the tapestry-lined corridor.
"She's got a much sharper head on her shoulders than Peeves," Luna remarked, her voice barely a whisper. It carried that strange, airy quality that made it feel as though she were speaking from another room entirely. "She knows when the air feels heavy with magic."
"She knows Filch is right behind her, more like," Allen muttered, his ears catching the rhythmic, heavy thud of boots hitting stone. "We need to move. Now."
They didn't wait to see the caretaker's lantern. They took off, their footsteps muffled by the heavy rugs of the second floor, weaving through the shortcuts Allen had memorized during his first month at Hogwarts. They burst through the side exit near the herbology gardens, the cool night air hitting their faces like a splash of cold water.
"Is he... is he still there?" Luna panted. She wasn't built for sprinting, her long hair whipping behind her like a golden banner, but she didn't complain.
Allen risked a glance back toward the castle gates. Far in the distance, a bobbing yellow light cut through the mist. Filch was moving with a terrifying, stiff-legged determination.
"The man is a machine," Allen said, genuinely impressed despite the situation. "He's a Squib, he's not exactly in his prime, and yet he hunts rule-breakers with the fervor of a religious zealot. He's still gaining on us!"
At the mention of Filch's persistence, Luna found a second wind. They scrambled down the sloping lawn, the grass slick with midnight dew. Hagrid's hut loomed out of the darkness ahead of them, a silhouette of rough-hewn timber and stone.
To Allen's relief, the windows were dark. The chimney wasn't smoking, and the usual sound of Hagrid's snoring was absent.
"Hagrid must be out in the forest," Allen whispered, leaning against the side of the hut to catch his breath. "Finally, a bit of luck."
Suddenly, a massive dark shape exploded from the shadows of the pumpkin patch. It launched itself directly at Allen's chest.
"Whoa—hey! Fang! Down, boy!" Allen laughed, bracing himself as the massive boarhound began a frantic attempt to lick every inch of his face. "Fang, settle down! You're going to knock Luna over!"
"It's alright," Luna said, reaching out to scratch the dog behind his floppy ears. Fang immediately leaned into her touch, his tail thumping against the wooden wall of the hut. "I think Fang has a better judge of character than half the people in Ravenclaw. He knows we aren't Nargles."
Suddenly, Fang's playful demeanor shifted. He went stiff, a low, guttural growl vibrating in his throat as he turned his head back toward the castle. The distant sound of Filch's wheezing breath and the clinking of his keys was getting louder.
"He actually followed us all the way to the edge of the forest," Luna exclaimed, her silver eyes widening. "He's very dedicated to his work, isn't he?"
"Too dedicated," Allen said. "Come on, Fang, with us!"
The trio—boy, girl, and dog—skirted the edge of the Forbidden Forest, plunging into a bank of thick, rolling mist that clung to the trees like wet wool. They ran until their lungs burned, the sounds of the castle and its caretaker finally swallowing into the silence of the woods.
"Lumos," Allen whispered, his wand-tip erupting into a soft, white glow. Luna followed suit.
They weren't in the forest anymore. Somehow, they had wandered into a hidden, open valley. The ground beneath them was a lush, emerald-green lawn, dotted with tiny, vibrant wildflowers that seemed to glow with their own internal light. Even in the dead of night, the place felt hummingly, vibrantly alive.
But the most striking thing was the structure sitting in the center of the clearing.
It was a bizarre, sprawling little house that defied every law of wizarding architecture. It didn't have a single flat roof; instead, it was topped with dozens of smooth, round, chocolate-brown domes of varying sizes. From a distance, it looked exactly like a cluster of giant, overgrown mushrooms pushing through the earth.
"Where are we?" Luna asked, spinning in a slow circle. "I've memorized the school maps—even the ones the teachers don't like—and this has never been on them."
"I have no idea," Allen admitted, his hand tightening on his wand. "This shouldn't be here. It's too large to miss, which means it's either unplottable or it only appears under very specific conditions."
"The Mushroom House," Luna decided, her voice soft and approving. "It looks like the kind of place where things go to be happy."
Fang had already made up his mind. He trotted to the front door, his nose pressed against the wood, sniffing rhythmically.
Allen, however, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the night air. He looked back at the mist they had just emerged from. He couldn't see anyone, but he felt a heavy, weighted gaze on his back. Someone was watching.
Beside him, Luna's posture changed. Her dreamy haze vanished, replaced by a sharp, predatory alertness. She gripped her wand, her silver-gray eyes darting toward the shadows.
"Something invisible is standing very close to us," she intoned, her voice almost like a chant. "It's breathing quite loudly."
Allen marveled at her intuition. He cast a quick detection spell, but the air came back clean. "Whatever it is, it's using something better than a standard Disillusionment Charm. If it wants to hide, it'll have to reveal itself eventually."
"Shall we go in?" Luna asked, tilting her head toward the door.
"Absolutely," Allen replied. He had little choice.
[System Quest: Fulfill the Invisible Man's wish and earn his gratitude. Reward: One Mystery Draw!]
The blue screen flickered in his vision for a split second before vanishing. Whatever was inside this house, the System wanted him there.
Luna reached out to push the door, but it remained as solid as a mountain.
"Alohomora!" Allen cast, expecting the lock to click. Instead, his magic behaved strangely. A silver thread of light spurted from his wand-tip, weaving itself across the grain of the wood like glowing embroidery.
The thread formed into elegant, shimmering script: Open me with a culinary heart. A food-related spell is the key.
"A food spell?" Allen blinked. He ran through his mental library. He knew how to shield against Dark Arts, how to transfigure lead into gold, and how to summon fire, but his "kitchen magic" was nonexistent. "Incendio? No, that's just heat. Accio? Scourgify? Aguamenti? None of those are specifically for food."
Luna stepped forward, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She pointed her wand at the center of the script.
"A simple stirring charm," she whispered. "The kind you use to keep Gillyweed juice from settling."
She made a graceful, circular motion with her wrist. The door didn't just unlock; it swung inward with a welcoming, musical hum.
Allen looked at her, truly impressed. "Remind me to buy you all the Gillywater you can drink when we get back. I clearly need to spend more time in the kitchens."
They stepped over the threshold and stopped dead.
From the outside, the Mushroom House looked like a multi-storied labyrinth. Inside, it was a single, staggering chamber. It was vast, like the interior of a great yurt, but the ceiling arched into a series of massive, interconnected domes—the "mushroom caps" they had seen from the lawn.
The sight was breathtaking. From each dome hung hundreds of different magical plants, their vines cascading down in neat, colorful rows like living waterfalls. Purple glow-pods, silver-leafed ferns, and flowers that pulsed with golden light filled the air with a sweet, earthy perfume.
In the center of the massive room was a steep, spiraling wooden staircase that led straight down into the earth.
"Look," Luna whispered, pointing down the stairwell. "There's a warm light at the bottom."
Allen nodded, leading the way. The wooden steps creaked rhythmically under his weight, his shadow stretching and dancing against the soil-packed walls as he descended.
"Come on, Fang," Luna murmured, patting the dog's flank.
Fang didn't need a second invitation. He bounded past them, his claws clicking—click-click-click—against the hard timber. The staircase zig-zagged, descending deeper than the dungeons of Hogwarts. As they went, the damp chill of the surface was replaced by a dry, comforting heat.
Finally, they stepped off the last riser.
The underground chamber was a masterpiece of cozy, old-English style. It was a long, broad living space bathed in the amber glow of floating candles. Every corner was stuffed with character—a plush velvet couch, high-backed armchairs, and shelves overflowing with ancient, leather-bound books.
On the far side, a kitchen area stood ready. Gleaming copper cookware hung from the ceiling, and a wide hearth made of black marble radiated a gentle warmth. A long oak table, large enough to seat ten people comfortably, dominated the center of the room.
"Oof—it smells of fresh earth," Luna said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I like it very much. It feels honest."
Allen looked up. The ceiling wasn't stone or wood; it was packed, dark soil, reinforced by shimmering veins of blue magic. Above them, he could hear a faint, rhythmic sound—the patter-patter-patter of rain hitting the ground.
"Wait," Luna murmured dreamily. "Is it raining outside? It was clear when we arrived."
Allen closed his eyes, sensing the flow of magic in the room. "It's a Transfer Charm. A very complex one. It's pulling the sound and the moisture from the air miles away and feeding it into the soil above us to water the plants upstairs. We're deep underground, Luna, but whoever built this brought the surface down with them."