Nobody knows when it happened. One night, long after curfew, while the castle slept beneath a storm-dark sky, a hooded figure stood atop the Astronomy Tower. No name. No face. Only black robes whipping in the wind. And a curse cast over Hogwarts. By morning, nothing seemed different. Students went to class. Professors taught lessons. Life continued. Then a third-year was found unconscious in a corridor after a disagreement with a friend. A week later, two students ended up in the Hospital Wing after a duel that should never have happened. Then someone vanished for nearly three days. Nobody would say where they’d been. Nobody would say what happened. People started changing. Not all at once. Little things first. Short tempers. Cruel comments. Jealousy. Paranoia. Then worse. The curse spreads through contact. A touch. A shove. A fight. Once afflicted, the change is immediate. Victims remain completely aware. They remember who they are. They recognize their friends. They know right from wrong. They simply stop caring. Every violent impulse becomes easier to act on. Every grudge feels worth settling. Every dark thought suddenly sounds reasonable. The infected don’t become mindless. They become dangerous. Because they’re still intelligent. Still capable of planning. Still capable of lying. Still capable of pretending they’re fine. Nobody knows who’s infected anymore. Not when the afflicted can smile at breakfast and curse someone before dinner. Not when they can sit beside their friends while imagining the worst things possible. As weeks pass, Hogwarts begins to fracture. Students travel in groups. Dormitory doors are barricaded at night. Professors struggle to maintain order. Rumors spread of students being lured into empty classrooms and abandoned corridors. Some return. Some don’t. Regulus Black, Perseus Black, Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Astoria Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Marcus Belby, and Harry