Artificial Protector [Harry Potter OC/AU]

[Lucernello]

Author Note: Hey guys, new to this forum type sites, this is a story already being posted in other fanfic sites so I will be able to post daily until we catch up. You can give me as much feedback as you want, I will accept everything you throw at me, my first language is not english so there might be errors here and there, but I do have a brother who is doing some proof-reading to my chapters, so there is hope you won't find many. Anyway, I don't really like Author notes so I won't probably have many unless I have something to communicate or answer to you guys.

Enjoy!
- Luce

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Chapter 1 - Prototype

She arrived at the train station alone. King-cross was the loudest place she had ever set foot in. With a clear goal in mind though, she didn't let that bother her, moving through filthy muggles and nosy redheads she stalked her target, he seemed lost in his own world.

When he came to a stop between platform 9 and 10 she hid behind one of the big pillars. Knowing the blood-traitors would soon reach them, she whispered and waved her hands in his direction. A small white dove quickly darted from her hands and stopped on his shoulder.

"Watch for the red-heads, they will guide you but be wary… Through the wall…" The dove chirped.

Startled, the boy looked with wide-eyes at the dove trying to make sense of how it could talk. Not wanting to spook the bird he remained still. Seeing as the dove did not move or made any other sound again he let it be and started looking out.

As on queue, the family made its appearance, moving between the platforms, nosy as they can be, complaining about it being filled with muggles. She waited behind the pillar, as the boy watched the entire family go through the brick passage, she was glad he trusted the dove as he did, not engaging with them at all.

She saw his determination to start running and quickly hurried behind him. She had to stop herself running onto him as soon as she crossed the layer, no doubt in his amazement frozen on the spot. Once he started heading to the train she followed. A butterfly flying fast behind her at the same pace.

The blood traitor twins were approaching him from the side, maybe half recognizing him. She couldn't allow them to interfere and put ideas in his head. Moving swiftly she collided with them on purpose. Sending one of them to the floor.

"Ow… Watch it!"

"Slow down ickle firstie-" George stopped talking once he turned around to take a good look at her.

"What do they feed you…? You sent me flying and I didn't even move you." Fred complained while caressing his butt.

"Apologies" She said with a small bow of her head. "Greetings, Mr and Mr Weasley. I didn't see where I was going, I'm sorry."

They both stared at her shocked. Not only because her voice sounded broken but both twins couldn't help but notice her arms. She was wearing prosthetics. Someone so young having lost both her arms was something traumatic to see, even if odds things happen in the wizarding world. She waited a few seconds staring at their wide eyes.

"What-?" they both blurted at the same time.

She didn't let them finish, opting to retreat as quickly as possible, she darted to the train leaving them behind. She roamed the long hallway until she found him, moving slowly by the train looking for an empty compartment. She observed the thin dark-haired boy with sharp green eyes, his glasses crooked and broken, he looked nervous. His clothes, a mixture of worn, torn and old, too big for his size.

She moved silently following his pace. Once she saw him enter a compartment pulling his trunk, his owl cage and other materials left behind in the luggage compartment, she quickly followed. As she entered he stared at her with curious eyes expecting her to talk first, his hand caressing the dove. His eyes scanned her from top to bottom, looking at her with the same shocked eyes as the twins although with curiosity instead of pity.

She said no words, having gone with the plan in his head multiple times, rehearsing her introduction over and over again, now she found herself speechless. Instead, she just upholstered her wand in a swift motion, and whispered faintly, levitating his trunk into the top overhead racks. With another swift motion the dove returned to her and turned into a small hair clip.

"Wow. Eh… Thanks?" Mumbled the now confused and shocked boy.

She motioned him to sit down and soon after she motioned her wand and started chanting with a soft mumble. The wards should keep others from noticing them, unwanted attention was not a distraction she could afford right now. She was going to introduce the boy-who-live to the wizarding world and the matter of his fame. It was a very delicate and important matter.

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He stared at her expecting her to say something, explain or otherwise offer a smile like everything was fine, but instead he got light-brownish eyes staring at him as if trying to devour his soul. She fixed her blond hair behind her ear and sat at his side. He tried her best to not stare at her arms, her fingers had a metallic shine on her palms while it looked like ceramic on her backhand and arms.

He wanted to ask, his curiosity getting the better of him. He didn't know if it was normal in this world and asking would make it uncomfortable or awkward, maybe she wasn't expecting that or it would be rude. Maybe she was just shy…

"Hi… Uhm, I'm Harry"

"It's my pleasure, Harry Potter. Apologies, I'm Lynne Volant. You can call me Lynne."

He was shocked again, there was something wrong with her voice, it was like a whisper and the sound was broken, a mixture of a grunt and a cough.

"Er... Don't worry about it. Nice to meet you, Lynne. You can call me Harry obviously. What was the spell you used to get my trunk up there? And where is your trunk?"

He wanted to ask so many things, why warn him to be wary of the red-heads, why did she looked like that, what happened to her voice, but he didn't want to come off as nosy or annoying. Concern showing at his face.

"The levitation charm, I can teach you or you can wait to learn it this year. This is my trunk."

She pointed to the butterfly that was now stuck to her hair slowly beating its wings.

"I love magic. Would you teach me…?" He squealed with excitement.

"Of course, in exchange, I would like to be your… friend"

"Sure!" He beamed happily, he was worried he wouldn't make any friends as he never had any in the past. Here was the first wizard his age to talk on his way to the school and now a new friend! Although it also raised a concern… what if his new friend was sick. Not to mention her missing limbs…

"Sorry if this is rude… but are you sick?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your arms…a-nd and… your voice. I've heard of diseases that affect the whole body-"

She chuckled although it sounded more like a croak. She finally smiled, a small one but one at last. She was not used to someone looking at her so worriedly. She didn't know about diseases like that but she couldn't really explain to him what happened to her.

"I'm not, you don't have to be concerned about me. In fact worrying about me is a waste of your time."

He frowned at her, confused. Did he upset her in some way? But she laughed, maybe it was not as serious.

"Well, friends care for one another, right?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never had one so it's new for me."

Oh. Maybe she was like him after all, and now that he thought about it, it made sense, it would be difficult for her to make friends. Looking at her, it was hard not to stare and make her uncomfortable. He thought of all the pity looks she may occasionally get and how tough it would be to make true friends and not someone who just was nice to her because of her circumstance. He wouldn't like to be friends with someone just because they took pity on him.

"That makes both of us new at this! We shall be the best of friends. And I think friends should take care of each other."

She seemed to be thinking about it but with a slight nod she agreed.

"Then as your best friend in the 9 hours we have until we arrive, I will teach you everything you need to know for now. You grew up with muggles, I can see that clearly, so we need to get you up to speed, boy-who-lived."

"Ugh… of course you know more about me."

"Everyone knows yes, I'm sure you've noticed, but do you know why? The story about your parents, what happened that night and your fame?" He shook his head. "I think first we must buy sweets. Be right back, the trolley lady won't stop in our compartment."

She spoke quickly and Harry could only watch as she chanted again with a side motion, the wand lit up and she opened the door and closed it behind her. He waited for a few minutes anxiously, he wanted to know more about his parents, about the looks people gave him as soon as he entered Diagon Alley. There was also another concern… not knowing what a trolley lady was or what sweets they could get and his imagination was running wild.

Maybe magical candy was way different, he never had one before. It seemed ages when she returned. She had a smile on her face and a lot of different boxes and wraps floating behind her. With a wave of her hand all of the packages went flying and sat besides him on the train seat. The butterfly followed as she moved inside of the compartment resting on her hair again. He wondered what type of spell or charm was in use for that.

"My apologies, Harry. It took so long because I had to summon a toad for Heir Longbottom and there was this girl that was bombarding me with questions about the charm."

"A toad? Heir…? Summon?"

"Sweets first! I bought one of each so you can try them all." She beamed at him sitting in front of him, she took a purple cardboard box.

"Oh… I have money I can pay you if you tell me how much it costs"

"I would expect you to have, your family is one of the most ancient and noble wizard families, although you could have bought yourself better casual clothes. But this round is on me. You can get the next one. Here, bite the head first."

He hummed and stared at the chocolate frog that seemed to be alive in his hands. He took a bite and smiled. It was sweeter than regular chocolate and the taste was good. But the feeling of confusion did not sit that well for him and every time Lynne spoke it was like a million questions were prompt in his head.

"What do you mean with ancient and noble families?"

"Well… I have a lot of explaining to do and many things I want to teach you. To prepare you for what is to come. You deserve it after all. Although we will need more time than what we have."

A flicker of emotions changed his face until his determination shined through his eyes. He swallowed what was left of the chocolate frog and looked at her, chin up high.

"I'm ready then, teach me."

"I will do my best." She pointed her wand to his face and without saying a word his glasses, that were once crooked and cracked, were repaired instantly. In awe he inspected the glasses as if they were now a precious gem and put them on again. He could see clearly for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"The mending charm, Reparo." Another thing to learn then. He thought it was starting to be a long list indeed.

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He had spent most of the trip quietly listening to Lynne, her words slowly arranging themselves in his mind, filling the gaps in a world he had almost no understanding of. He learned about the second wizarding war against a Dark lord, about what happened with his parents, what he did to him as well. About his probable inheritance and what the Potter family left behind. Inventions, potions and businesses.

He was left feeling anxious knowing that there would be a lot of expectations because of silly stories spread around and lies about his heroic deeds. He learned that there are different types of spells, charms, curses, jinxes, hexes and elemental spells. That magic could be cast through other means like rituals and runes, he learned about wards and potions.

He felt a headache was fast approaching with the amount of information he was drilled with, but luckily not everything had been information. He could put up with a bit of annoyance if it meant he could learn new spells and charms. He had learned a few charms and even though it took him a few tries, he eventually got Lumos, Levioso and Reparo working for him. She also transfigured his hair to be a bit longer, and although it was still the untamable beast, he could hide his scar behind it now and maybe blend in a bit. He hoped at least.

Lynne explained the charms behind her trunk, a combination of the shrinking charm and insect transfiguration, as well as the one that worked for her hairpin, how she had discovered that she could combine it with a variation of the protector charm to send messages. He was amazed at her brilliance but secretly hoped she was just a genius and not all his classmates would be at that level already. One thing was certain, he was quite happy to have met Lynne. He learned so much already and knew that if he ever had any questions she would happily answer, wouldn't look down on him for not knowing and most of all.

She seemed kind enough to teach him. Even things she couldn't fully grasp with how she would go out of her way to have him understand everything he was curious about. Hopefully most students would be like Lynne, but he doubted that after his encounter with the blonde student while getting his clothes. Malfoy, he had mentioned his name was, talking to him like it should have been obvious.

"Which house do you think you are going to be sorted into?" he blurted out while remembering his conversation.

"I will go to whichever house you go, my mentor taught me that you have a bit of a choice if you manage to convince the one who sorts you." She said without a sliver of doubt.

"I don't want to lose my only friend out of sight just yet and I don't really care about something as silly as a house. Although if I don't manage to convince the one who sorts, we will still be friends."

He felt a warm feeling in his chest, no one had ever cared for him like that.

"What if you get sorted first…?" he asked nervously. He also didn't want to be separated from his first friend, even if they could still see each other eventually.

"You will be sorted first, they call by surname. I'm a Volant, Harry. You have nothing to worry about."

He sighed in relief and also blushed a bit embarrassed at himself having asked such a silly question, but if she thought it was something dumb to ask she didn't show any signs of it.

"We are almost there, I'm going to leave you change into your school robes."

While Harry was still wondering how she knew that without even looking through the window she exited the compartment again dismantling the wards he now knew of and was almost certain were a very advanced piece of magic. He quickly changed into his black robes and prepared his trunk and things. When Lynne came back, she had a very foul face. Behind her he saw Malfoy and two bigger students at each side of him.

"So this is where you were hiding… Are you really Harry Potter?" the blond asked.

"Yes, it's my pleasure Draco Malfoy."

He extended his hand carefully and Malfoy hesitated but shook it all the same.

"And who are you?" He said to Lynne looking disgusted by her arms. Lynne had that same blank expression at the beginning of the ride.

"I am Lynne Volant, last of my line." Malfoy was stunned for a bit, probably because of her particular voice.

"I thought your family name fell under the Lestrange. I welcome you though, we need more pure families in Hogwarts."

With a small bow she didn't bother with an answer. Harry had already assumed Lynne was from a wizard family so that was not a surprise, but what Malfoy said did catch him by surprise for another reason. She had made a small list of family names earlier that he should be wary of, Malfoy was there and the Lestrange as well, loyal to the Dark Lord. Did she say that because of her own experience with the family? Malfoy decided that the bow was enough, it seems because he turned to him while he was caught up in his own thoughts.

"This is Crabbe and this is Goyle, I thought you were not aware of anything when we met the first time, why did you pretend?"

Putting his focus on the question he tried his best to remember what little he learned from Lynne into effect.

"Well… you can't expect me to show off, I have enemies out there, right?" He said trying his best to feel confident.

"Right… of course. How silly of me. I would offer help but I can see you are in good hands. Remember, Potter, some families are better than others. We will help you."

"Thanks… Thank you, Malfoy. If we are in the same house I will be glad to have your guidance." He gave a small smile.

"Great, I think we are almost there so I will leave you to it." With a short bow, Malfoy and his grunts exited the compartment and he saw Lynne finally relax, and wondered what could have happened if things didn't go well.

He didn't want to end up anywhere near Malfoy though, someone who looked at his friend like that was not worth being friends with. But she had said previously that antagonizing any of the list was a bad idea. She gave him a small smile, her wand appearing on her hand and with a small motion the butterfly flew to the overhead compartments and transformed into a small trunk.

"The staff at Hogwarts will take our trunks and luggage inside. We just leave them here." He nodded, still amazed at how much she knew. As if part of a script, there came an announcement from the train's speakers telling them to leave their luggage behind.

"Engorgio." She muttered and her trunk suddenly became as big as his. He made a mental note to ask her about the charm and about her family later.

"Before we leave… here." She handed him a small notebook. He opened it briefly and saw that it was empty.

"You can use it to write down important things you want to remember, it is enchanted to only let the person who writes on it to read its contents."

Before he could even respond, she fixed her robes, wand disappearing on her sleeves and exited the compartment. He quickly followed behind, pocketing the notebook, on the way they met a stream of students that were also descending the train. They followed a few of the younger looking students that all had the black robes as well.

"First years! First 'ears over here!" Hagrid was motioning everyone close. He was happy to see him again.

"Heya 'Arry! Excited aren't ya. Already making friends. Well come 'ol over here."

They followed Hagrid through a clearing leading to a small port. Hagrid guided them to the boats and then told them they would cross the big lake 4 students per boat. Lynne was close to him glaring at other people who would look their way, almost as if he had a guard dog, he found this strange but maybe she was taking this friendship different from what she should because she never had any. He made a mental note to talk about it with her later as well, aware that the list was growing.

They floated through the lake and as he took the sights of the castle he felt like it was all worth it in the end, it stood at such a magnificent level, and it really felt magical. He descended from the boats and followed Hagrid, they then were greeted by Professor McGonagall, she briefly informed them that they would be sorted right away, she gave information on the houses and their traits although Lynne had already explained how it worked. The professor told them to wait while checking if the Great Hall was prepared.

He was about to ask Lynne about what to expect when a bushy girl that wouldn't stop giving facts about the castle to a shy chubby boy answered his questions. Some red-head was telling other students how they would have to fight a troll, not realizing he was being pranked by his brothers which led to Malfoy starting an argument with him. He called him Weasley so he tried to remember what Lynne had said about them.

The Weasleys were allies of Albus Dumbledore, Lynne said to be careful with them as they would have ulterior motives to ally themselves with the so-called savior or boy-who-lived. He wanted genuine friends, not someone who would just approach him because of that. There was so much to learn, so little time to adjust, and he started dreading having lived with the Dursleys yet again, why couldn't he have gotten a family that would have taught him what he needed to know.

He was brought back off his thoughts when a few of the students upfront let out small shrieks as ghosts came to greet them. They gave their introductions while some students whispered in awe. As they left professor McGonagall returned and led them into the Great Hall.

"...it's enchanted to make it look like the sky above… read it in Hogwarts: A history."

It was quite pretty, a night sky full of stars, while candles floated in the ceiling. He observed 4 long tables and the banners of each house with their colors. They walked through the students seated in each house until they were all in front of a long table of professors. There on a stool lay a hat, it seems Lynne didn't lie in the end. As part of the welcoming, the hat started singing, he didn't catch much of the lyrics, his mind just taking the entirety of the castle, but everyone was respectful and made no sounds until it finished.

Once everyone was settled they started calling by last name. One by one all the students in the first year were called. He wasn't feeling nervous or anxious anymore, choosing to trust Lynne to follow him into whatever house he was sorted somehow. She had been on point with everything so far. He was sure that whichever house he ended up in, he would have someone to ask questions and have answers, hopefully a friend as well. He saw Malfoy get sorted into Slytherin and knew that if he was indeed going there he would have someone who could help him out as well.

The bushy girl and the shy boy pair both went into Gryffindor, from his name he concluded he was the one who lost the Toad that Lynne summoned.

"Harry Potter!"

At the call of his name, he stepped forward trying to ignore the whispers and people staring at him. He settled nicely in the stool and felt the hat being placed on his head.

"Ah, Harry Potter. Interesting… Mmm, yes, a lot of courage and bravery but also a thirst for knowledge, you don't like being in the dark. Difficult… Very difficult." He was amazed at the voice of the hat, but he didn't comment, he was quite certain he could influence the decision from the hat otherwise Lynne wouldn't have been that confident in saying she was going to follow him but he had no preference either.

Opting to remain quiet, the hat continued. "You would make a nice Ravenclaw, I see you are quite intelligent but easily overwhelmed. The fear of expectations have made their way into your head as well now, and in Slytherin you would do well to meet them head on, you could do great things there."

"You have loyalty for friends enough to get into Hufflepuff and courage and bravery enough to defy the most terrible of Dark lords… You would do well in any house I'm sure." At this point the hat was taking so long people were whispering and speculating. It made him nervous so he decided to break the silence to focus on something else.

"How can students influence your decision?" he asked.

"Well it depends, I wouldn't say they have a choice but they can convince themselves after they talk to me and I support their decision… you are a curious boy."

"How would I have known that before coming here?".

"You feel that you are ignorant of many things, things you think you should know… Why is that?" He was annoyed, the hat was not answering his questions completely.

"I feel that people around me know my place in this world better than I do and that is frustrating. I'm also lacking common wizardry knowledge that I have no way of knowing how to get."

"Well, if you are so sure knowledge is what you want… better be… RAVENCLAW!"

He removed the hat and handed it to the professor before stepping down, the Ravenclaw table was cheering and clapping while many in the Gryffindor table looked confused. He sat down beside an Indian looking girl that was sorted just before him. Her twin was looking at her from the Gryffindor table with a glare. He was greeted by other Ravenclaws and he focused hard to remember their names with their faces from the sorting so far. Boot, Brocklehurst, Corner, Goldstein, Li, MacDougal, Patil. Then came Turpin after him.

"Lynne Volant."

He watched as a few whispers were heard as well, probably because of how she looked. He awaited eagerly as she sat down and let professor McGonagall put the hat on her head.

"Oh another hat stall" Murmured an older Ravenclaw by his side.

"What do you mean?" Asked Harry without taking his eyes off the blonde girl.

"When the hat takes more than 2 minutes it's called a hat Stall, you took the longest so far. We can talk later about it if you want. I'm Marcus Belby by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Marcus."

"RAVENCLAW!"

He jumped a little bit but again not completely surprised that Lynne would stay true to her word. She walked gracefully and sat beside Harry after he moved a bit to let her sit.

"I'm glad you could convince the hat to join me, Lynne." he said. In fact he couldn't have been happier, having a friend already was all he had hoped for, especially one who had so far answered every question he had.

She gave a slight nod and a small smile. The headmaster started his speech, giving a welcome to all of the first years. Then shouted a few funny words that made no sense whatsoever at least to him. Lynne turned to the table all of a sudden. At that moment food appeared out of nothing, the entire table filled to the brim with food. Harry had never seen so much in one place before, much less eaten anything from there. The Dursley had denied him to taste most foods only leaving him with scraps or things he could sneak away with.

"Is he a bit… mad?" he asked, watching Dumbledore. Marcus eyed him carefully and let out a small chuckle.

"He is a bit barmy, yes… peas, Harry?"

He started piling a bit of food on his plate, not sure what to eat first, but making sure to at least try a bite of everything. As he was doing this he noticed that Lynne made no moves to even pick up anything from the table and frowned.

"Did you not find anything you like?" he asked.

"I'm fine, I'm not hungry right now. Don't worry." Came the reply in a whisper. Sue and Anthony were watching curiously but said nothing.

"Already keeping secrets, Harry?" Marcus asked his side, gaining a glare from the girl.

He ignored the question entirely, hoping that if he acted innocent enough, the older boy would leave it be. Which he did, no one followed it up either so he just shrugged and continued eating. When watching the tables of professors his scar started hurting terribly. So much so that he couldn't hide the pain.

"Are you okay?" Lynne said, looking at him worried.

"Yes, just a headache." He tried to ignore it. But he saw clearly that one of the professors was staring at him. He averted the gaze instinctively. After dinner the headmaster spoke again.

"First years, please note... that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students." He thought that having a forest close by could have been a cool adventure, despite the name.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

He saw several different surprised and scared faces. He was surprised as well, but he didn't know if things like that were normal. He turned towards Lynne, it seemed that she was calm and just reading a small book which she had pulled out of nowhere somewhere in the middle of the feast.

"Is it normal to have something that could kill students here…?" he asked in a whisper.

"Not that I know of…" came the answer without her lifting her gaze at all.

The prefects started rounding up all first years, and they left behind the Great Hall to head for their common rooms. Ravenclaw was up the castle near the astronomy classroom and it was quite the trek after dinner. The entrance to the common room was located on the west side of Hogwarts at the top of a spiral staircase that started on the fifth floor, and was a door without a doorknob or keyhole, but a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Penelope Clearwater was the prefect leading them to the entrance, and the group followed her closely. After the introductions were made she explained common rules like curfew times or how detention and point losses work for disciplinary actions.

"You will have to answer a logic puzzle or riddle to enter the common room. If you failed it, you will have to wait for someone else to answer theirs to enter. But you can also ask a prefect if they can help you in." She explained.

"Seas with no water. Hills with no earth. Roads never stepped on. What am I?" said the eagle.

"A map." Penelope answered. The door opened and the prefect made a wave motion for everyone to step in. The Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than most rooms Harry had ever seen. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue- and-bronze silks. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, bookcases, some instruments like telescopes and globes lying around, and opposite to the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

"Alright boys on the right hallway you will find your quarters, they are divided by year and usually 3 per room. Same for the girls on the opposite hallway."

After the long day Harry was feeling quite tired and wanted to see who he was paired with. Being honest with himself, he wanted to ask a million questions to Lynne but he was pretty sure he wouldn't stay awake to keep the answers in his head. He walked to the right hallway to find his room. He found his initials alongside Anthony Goldstein. It seemed his room was only for the 2 of them and the rest of his classmates were in the other room.

He flopped to the bed that had his trunk closest to it. Anthony started unpacking beside him. Once both of them finished unpacking and settling in for the night, he closed his curtains and thought of all that transpired that day. It was a lot to take in, he made the decision to gather everything he needed to know. He took out the small notebook that Lynne had gifted him, and wrote down what he wanted to ask for tomorrow. He let himself rest his head on the soft pillow, having a bit of an emotional overload at having his first bed. Having changed into run-down clothes to sleep, he was feeling quite comfortable and sleep took him quite quickly.

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He awoke early. The curtains did not let a lot of light through but he knew it was around 6 or 7am. He quietly changed clothes to his robes. Then exited the room trying not to wake up his roommate. He entered the common room and saw in a corner of a table Lynne's blonde hair. She was reading again, maybe that is how she knew so much. By day, the Ravenclaws had a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains and he took a moment to take in the sights, then went to sit beside her.

"Good morning, Lynne. Slept well?" he asked cheerily.

"Good morning, Harry." Frowning she took out a small circle watch from one of her pockets.

"It is still quite early, what are you doing up?"

"Already slept enough, I used to wake up early to make breakfast for my relatives."

He wondered how useful a watch would be, and why there wasn't a spell for the time. Surely if there was, Lynne would know about it.

"I see, well we can go for early breakfast, the Great Hall still should give us food if you ask for it."

"Before that, can I ask you a few things?" She nodded slowly.

"Yesterday Malfoy said your family was part of the Lestrange family. They are on the list you told me to be careful about. Should I be worried?" He asked half-jokingly.

"The Lestrange family was very loyal to the Dark Lord in the war. They carried his will and were ruthless. That is why you must be careful with them, although I believe all of them are in Azkaban Prison. A pureblood family that married to the Blacks as well."

She shifted a bit on the chair. "The Longbottoms suffered the most to them. My family joined the Lestrange a long time ago, back when they were in France, around 300 years ago. My immediate family comes from a squib and a muggle."

"The Volant family used to cast away squibs so there are branches of the family lost that they do not know about. And sometimes magic just finds its way again."

"What is a squib…?" It sounded awfully like a freak and he was not liking that at all.

"Occasionally, a child born to magical parents lacks any magical ability. Those people are called squibs. They are quite rare."

"If the Lestrange are in Azkaban, and your family is in France, who took care of you and why did you come to Britain?"

"I was raised by a friend of my father once they noticed I could wield magic. They lived here. I took the family name so that I could be more independent."

Harry had a lot more questions now, but it seemed like Lynne was not fond of the topic so he didn't want to make his first friend uncomfortable. He could see that it made her move on the chair and her eyes looked anxious.

"Well… I had another question. You kept glaring at people that got close to me when we were approaching the castle. Is there someone who I should be wary of?"

"No, I was being paranoid, the amount of magic that hit me approaching the castle messed my thoughts. I will try to be more subtle."

He was happy with that answer. He wanted to make more friends and he didn't want Lynne to push people away from him.

"Let's go have breakfast now, I'm getting hungry."

She got up and pushed the book into a small satchel he now noticed she had on her. Hidden below her robes. There was no way that satchel could hold the book but it seemed to swallow it when the book was close to it.

"Wicked."​

 

[Lucernello]

Chapter 2 - Pawn

Albus Dumbledore paced nervously in his office. He had felt the wards of the castle warn him of not one, but two malicious or dark cores entering Hogwarts. His plan only accounted for Voldemort. He could admit that luring the dark lord to the school with the stone was not the smartest choice, but he was desperate.

He needed to prove to himself that the prophecy was still in full effect, that Harry Potter was still protected and that he could delay his return. Had he gotten more than he bargained for? He needed to be careful and plan again. He was in the Great Hall earlier than usual, to see if he could detect something or someone as the students and professors arrived. He was highly suspicious of Quirrell of course, having traveled to Albania where rumor of a Dark presence had spread.

But so far, Quirinus had not been in contact with anyone as far as he could gather. The portraits acting as his spies mentioned he had not communicated with anyone yet and no owls had been dispatched either.

As the first students began to fill the Great Hall his magic sensed a dark nature. He looked around and saw Harry Potter enter. He was following a blond student that had unnatural arms. He feared that the scar on the boy had done something to him. When he left him to his family, he could feel that it was something foul but that was not harming the boy. If he was being possessed or going dark his plans would fail.

He carefully sent his magic to him, he felt nothing out of the ordinary and when he looked at him he could sense his feelings, nervous, anxious, like any first year first days, but content. He curiously gazed upon other students that had entered as well, no one felt any different.

The entire breakfast continued, because Quirrell was now there, he couldn't really know if there was another dark agent by feeling alone. He still scanned the place trying to see who Quirrell was looking at. But nothing came out of that either. When Harry and his friend departed after their schedules were handed in he took a moment to calm his mind and walk away to his office again, feeling anxious.​

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	MONDAY	TUESDAY	WEDNESDAY	THURSDAY	FRIDAY
8.30-9.30	D.A.D.A.	Herbology	Charms	Charms	History
9.45-10.45	Herbology	Charms	Transfig.	D.A.D.A.	Astronomy
11.00-12.00	Charms	D.A.D.A.	Potions	History	Potions
12.00-13.00	LUNCH	LUNCH	LUNCH	LUNCH	LUNCH
13.00-14.00	Transfig.	History	D.A.D.A.	Transfig.	Potions
14.15-15.15	History	Potions	Herbology	Transfig.	FREE / FLYING (2nd Week)
15.30-16.30	Astronomy	Astronomy	FREE	FREE	FREE
Midnight			Astronomy

Harry took a look at the schedule. It was Monday September 2nd so they would have to find the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. Luckily, it seemed Lynne knew where to go and just started heading in that direction. He was still quite worried about her. She didn't reach for any food and just read quietly while he ate.

He thought that maybe the girl, much like himself, suffered long periods of not eating and she wasn't used to that much food. She did look thin beneath her robes, although he wasn't sure. They were kind of saggy after all. He would have to talk to her after class, maybe at lunch. He followed her to the classroom, they were one of the first to enter so they got to pick their seats.

The classroom reeked of garlic and it wasn't the most pleasant smell. It wasn't that uncomfortable but still not pleasant. Slowly the room filled out with students from his year and as well as Slytherins students. He gave a polite bow to Malfoy from where he was sitting and got one in return. They shared the first and second period with Slytherin.

"M-my name i-is Pr-pr-professor Quirinus Qu-quirrell. I will t-t-teach you a-bou-t the dark creatures yo-u wi-ll n-eed to def-f-fend against and how."

He went on to explain curses and counter-curses, but the explanations were so slow and the horrible stutter made the class impossible to follow correctly. Lynne looked straight up murderous and Quirrell did not go near them at all for the entire lesson. Not even calling them or looking at their direction. And whenever he gave his back to Harry he felt a strong headache coming in from his scar. Something he was not sure why kept happening.

He was glad when the class ended to bolt out of there, luckily it seemed that Lynne was not happy either to stay any second longer.

"How is he allowed to teach at all? He is useless and a coward. I can't believe he is stupid enough to believe that the amount of garlic present would stop a vampire at all. " he heard Malfoy complain to his cohort of Slytherins that were following out of the class. "I will have my father hear about this."

He snorted but quietly left them behind following an impatient Lynne to the greenhouses. Again, he was surprised at how knowledgeable she was with the Castle. So he had to ask.

"How do you already know where to go?"

"I created a spell to point me in the direction I really want to be. It doesn't work long distances but it's enough for me to reach classrooms." she answered without stopping.

"But I didn't see you cast anything…"

"Another thing to teach you then? There are many spells which affect only your vision, like the Revelio charm."

He was happy he had Lynne to teach him things like that, but he still had a lot of questions as to how she knew all of this. And create a spell? Wasn't that supposed to be quite advanced? It didn't make a lot of sense to him now that he could compare her with other students. They knew almost as much as him after all. Putting the thought aside, he followed her into Herbology Class and he only learned one thing that day, plants were scary.

Charms was the first class shared with Gryffindors at the start of the week, and the first time he could answer questions that he had learned on the train! It was nice to be able to go over magic theory like a ping pong between the small professor and other students. He gained points to Ravenclaw and it felt good to know.

Having Lynne as a partner in charms though was a bit off-putting. She seemed to never pay attention and never raised her hand to answer anything but as soon as Professor Flitwick called for her she would answer correctly every time. Each time, people flinched at her voice. It seemed like the professor did not mind or didn't show it at least.

He didn't know if it was a sensible topic for the girl to answer, so he was thinking of ways to come up with the topic sometime soon. At the end of the class he saw the bushy girl staring at them. It seemed like a glare but he was not sure or why someone would target them specifically.

"Do you remember the name of the girl that is staring at us?" He asked in a whisper, avoiding her gaze.

"Hermione Granger, I have no clue why she is staring. It looks like a mix of curiosity and competitiveness. It doesn't look important enough." she whispered back.

He blinked surprised at her answer. "How can you see so well so far away…?"

"Harry, are you sure those are the right glasses for you?" As he wondered the same question, Lynne was packing his books into her satchel.

As they made their way out of the classroom, she gave him a run down on how her spell worked to get a helping guide to a room he was thinking of as a destination. She explained that it was a deviation from a spell called Four-point, Point me, that would point always to the north. Instead of pointing to the north, this spell would point to a specific destination.

"You can try it, it works best with rooms you already know, but if you don't, the spell will try to gather information from different magic sources to find the room. That's why it doesn't work long distances..." she stopped suddenly in the middle of the corridor.

"Try it, visualize the great hall, we have to be there for lunch. You will guide us there."

"I still think the wand movement is quite complicated. Well… here goes. Indica Locus." Waving the wand in the pattern of the spell. He was still amazed at the complexity of the spell. At the third try a small blue path appeared in front of him guiding the way.

Happy with having success with the spell, he ushered Lynne to follow him and together they headed to the Great Hall. Harry was liking his first day so far.

"Why are you not eating again, Lynne?" he looked at her concerned.

"Just a condition, Harry. I don't ever get hungry, if I need it I will eat something from my trunk. Don't worry about it."

"Does it have anything to do with your voice?"

"No. My voice sounds like this because I screamed until my cords snapped, magic couldn't heal it in time."

His eyes opened in shock. "W-what do you mean…?"

"I meant that I screamed so much that I damaged my vocal cords beyond repair."

"Who… what made you scream?"

"It was my torture resistance training."

He didn't know what to answer at all. He imagined terrible things, he wasn't sure what this training was about but if it had you screaming until she was hurt, it couldn't be a good thing. His own experience with screaming had been met with more punishment at the Dursley and he couldn't possibly understand how that could be a training.

"Was this your father's friend who trained you?" He made the mistake of speaking about this, now he was being anxious, thinking of the Dursleys.

"My mentor and guardian, yes." a small smile on her lips. And just that tiny gesture gave Harry the feeling of relief that he needed to relax a bit.

"Well, we should head to transfiguration." He thought it was best not to continue with the topic. If one of the few smiles she had were thinking about his mentor then he shouldn't be that bad.

Walking to the class and sitting down with Lynne beside him, he saw a cat on the professor's desk. It was strange arriving earlier than a professor. Lynne nodded to the cat and opened her book. She had warned him that the stern professor would usually leave the theory of transfiguration for self-study, having more practical classes instead. He had read a bit on lunch time ahead, he was hoping that was enough.

After a few minutes the cat jumped from the desk turning into the professor. He blinked surprised and in awe with a simple thought: Magic was amazing.

"Welcome to my class, first years. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

With that, she started making instructions on security and asked a few questions which Harry knew about luckily. He could answer a few and gain more points for his house. This was looking like a great class and although McGonagall seemed stern, she explained well and it was easy to understand.

"For this 20 minutes of class, we will try to change these toothpicks into a needle. The spell is in your book and look closely at me for the wand movements." She proceeded to show them the movements of the wand and turned one of the toothpicks into a needle. He quickly practiced the movements at first only, and he thought it wasn't really hard.

"It's all in your mind, Harry. As long as you can visualize the needle in great detail, the spell should work correctly. Picture the needle first in your head, then try."

He had forgotten about Lynne beside him, he watched as her toothpick was already a needle and he noted that he had never heard her say the spell. He focused on his toothpick, on picturing the needle on his head, a needle that was now easy to picture having seen Lynne's. He performed the spell and much to his surprise, it worked at first try.

"I did it!" He cheered happily hugging Lynne from the side. The surprised girl chuckled at him but did not complain.

"Well done, Mr. Potter. 10 points to Ravenclaw. To you as well, Miss Volant."

They were sharing class with the Hufflepufs but only one of them actually made a needle by the end of the class. Of his housemates, almost everyone except Sue Li managed to complete the needle. He gathered his things and exited the classroom.

History of magic was boring and he had trouble not falling asleep. The ghost professor was so monotonous it was really difficult to keep up. Lynne was reading something else, he kept trying to understand what she was reading, but it was in Latin and he didn't know the language. She was almost falling asleep when she pulled out another book and handed it to him.

It was a book on stars and constellations, what they meant and their application in divination and the study of how magic is influenced by the cosmic movements. It kept him entertained and it was interesting at least, more than the class. Professor Binns just didn't even look at them while he continued rumbling about 15th century events.

After history they had Astronomy and he now understood why she had given him the book, he could answer most things asked and again more points and participation in class. His housemates saw him as a nice addition to their Ravenclaw. He was exhausted by the end of the day though, but happy.

He followed Lynne to the library to ask her a few questions he had about their first day and together they revised a few concepts and spells. Overall it was a nice first day. Dinner was uneventful and immediately after he collapsed in his comfortable bed.
​

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The following morning, Lynne was waiting for him in the common room, again. He was an early riser and somehow she was there. He liked having someone wait for him though.

"Morning, Harry. I have a gift for you."

Harry, who was skipping down to the common room, almost fell down the stairs.

"A gift…?"

"It's a pocket watch. It used to be a regular gift from your family when you became an adult."

It was a small round silver watch just like hers. "Err… why?"

"This one will help you as it also has a particular enchantment with its brother timepiece of mine."

He took it from her cold hard hands making a ting sound. He opened the lid and saw a beautifully carved eagle on the background of the small hands of the watch.

"It's pretty… thank you." he looked at her fondly.

"It has a mental message enchantment. If you press on the small button on the side it can send messages to me, as long as you have it in you, I can send messages to you."

She took hers out and immediately showed it to him how it was done.

Do not think in a pink Elephant.

Harry chuckled and pressed on his.

PinkElephantLynneisamazing.

Lynne smiled a little. "You need to filter your thoughts for the messages, Harry. But thank you."

The boy nodded embarrassed. "Let's go and have breakfast."

They headed to the great hall to eat. Sitting at the Ravenclaw table some of their classmates joined them chatting about their classes for the day. They were chatting more with him than with Lynne, but she didn't seem to mind.

The whole group headed to classes and again, both him and Lynne earned more points. In Charms and Defense they performed a perfect Lumos and he gave a few tips to his classmates. He still left defense with a small headache for some reason.

After lunch they traveled through the castle to the dungeons. Their first potions class. He sat beside Lynne and two Hufflepuff girls who he didn't remember.

"Miss Bones, Miss Abbott." Of course, Lynne knows who they are. She always knows.

"Err, hello."

"Hi."

Harry gave a small wave at them and sat down. A loud door noise made everyone jump and Professor Snape came barling down into the classroom.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making."

He said in a low voice, but everyone was paying attention to him anyway. Harry thought he was intimidating so he started writing down what he was saying as small notes.

"However, for those select few who possess the predisposition... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses."

"I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention!"

He is talking to you.

Startled but managing to recover quickly, Harry looked up to Snape. "Oh, sorry professor, I was taking notes of what you were saying."

"Is that so, Mr. Potter? Yes, you are our new celebrity after all, you should keep up." He was looking at him with disdain. He didn't like being singled out.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Sleeping potion. The draught of living death. Came Lynne's message in his head. Of course! My heroine to the rescue.

"A sleeping potion. The Draught of Living death."

Snaped raised one eyebrow. "Yes. Where do you find me a Bezoar?"

A stone in the Stomach of a goat.

"In the stomach of a goat professor. It's a stone"

Snape looked surprised but nodded.

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant!" He remembered that from the small reading he did on potions that day.

Good job.

He looked to his classmates and Lynne had a blank expression but to his side both Bones and Abbott couldn't hide their surprise.

"Yes it also goes by the name of aconite. You also failed to mention that the Bezoar acts as an antidote to most poisons" He looked at the whole class. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down? 5 points to Ravenclaw, Mr. Potter."

The class continued without any issues after that, they were tasked to do a small cure for Boils potion, there was a cauldron that almost burned down by one of the Hufflepuff boys but Snape managed to spare him of any injuries. He left the classroom feeling content, he managed to finish correctly and without any issues while not feeling like Lynne was doing all the work.

After astronomy they kept studying and reading with Lynne in the library. He finished tired again but pleased with his progress.

As the day went by, classes were easier and came to him almost naturally, he was pushing to get the best marks and Lynne's continued help gave him the boost that he needed. He also kept learning new spells and wizarding culture taught by her, each time more amazed at her brilliant mind.

On friday he received a letter carried by Hedwig with an invitation for tea to Hagrid's hut just outside the castle and although he had been making more friends and being cordial with most of his classmates he only invited Lynne with him. They exited the castle after classes and headed to his house if you can call it that. The cozy hut had a weird exterior but it looked warm and inviting.

He knocked on the door gently, and heard a muffled voice from inside. Hagrid opened the door but before he could even greet the half-giant a cold tongue was hitting his face. Startled he did not react but Lynne did, placing herself in front of him pushing the dog gently back.

"Fang! Oi back of' you old fool. Sorry 'bout that Harry. He means good."

He gave gentle pats to fang once Lynne moved aside.

"Hey Hagrid, we came for tea. This is my friend Lynne."

The giant assessed the girl for the first time and opened his eyes a bit, no wonder surprised by her body. She gave him a small bow and he didn't say anything for a bit and Harry was growing anxious when he just smiled and waved them in.

"I'll set up the kettle. Make yourself at home. Biscuits?"

"Thanks."

It was amazing to see the half-giant navigating through his hut to make tea, you would think with his size it would be difficult but he moved with ease in his place. Harry sat and made space for Lynne to join him. When she sat he heard a faint metal sound hit the seat and for the first time he looked at her legs. They had always been covered so he never thought that she may have lost her legs as well.

"It's nice to see ya' ar' making friends, Harry. How was yur first week? Are you enjoying Hogwarts?"

"It has been great, Hagrid, there is so much to learn and so much to see. Lynne has been helping a lot with everything. We are going to explore the castle this weekend, it should be fun."

"Well I'm glad that ya' are having fun. Yur parents would be proud of you, Harry."

"Thank you, Hagrid."

They talked about his parents for a bit, how they had made Gryffindor proud, Hagrid spoke as if he knew them dearly but at the same time, didn't reveal many details about them. He was wondering why Lynne was not speaking and one looked at Hagrid and he saw that he was eying her from time to time, maybe for the same reason.

"What is Headmaster Dumbledore hiding in the castle, Hagrid? Is it whatever was in the newspaper today about Gringotts Vault 713?"

Hagrid looked at her wide-eyed. "H-how do ya' know about that? The headmaster tasked me with that mission secretly."

"You just gave it away and also did said mission in front of Harry."

"You should not meddle in affairs ya' have no place in."

"One of your pets is guarding it, yes?" Lynne continued asking unbothered.

"How do you know about Fluffy?!" Hagrid was now very anxious and almost screamed at her.

"Fluffy?" Harry whispered.

"I shouldn't have said that, I should not have said that. Right, out! Go back to the castle both of ya'."

Hurrying back to the castle, Harry couldn't stop the many thoughts crashing in his mind. Following Lynne to the library he felt that he needed a few answers. They found an empty secluded table to sit, something that they were doing regularly this first week after classes.

"If I ask you will explain what that was about?"

"Whatever you want to ask, I will always answer you."

"Why?"

"I've been cursed to always tell the truth if asked, unless someone specifically tells me I cannot tell anyone. I can keep secrets from others but not mine."

Harry looked horrified at that information. "There is a curse for that…?"

"Yes."

"Uhm… alright. Who cursed you?"

"My guardian."

"Is he the one who broke your voice?"

"Yes."

He gulped imagining a worse magical version of Vernon Dursley. He didn't see Lynne show any emotional distress but he didn't want to continue talking about that.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Harry remained quiet for a bit gathering his thoughts.

"So you think they are keeping something in the castle."

She nodded slowly.

"Something that someone tried to steal from the Gringotts vault that Hagrid and I visited."

Again a slow nod.

"It's on the third-floor corridor in Hogwarts."

"And a creature from Hagrid's is protecting it?"

"I assumed so, yes. He looks after the animals and herds around the forbidden forest. It was a hunch of mine, and he just gave it away."

"So the headmaster was not kidding when he said that it was very dangerous to go near the third-floor corridor."

"Quite so."

"Why would they bring it here though?" he didn't want to think badly of the school, but to have something as dangerous that

"As a lure obviously."

"To lure what?"

"Not what. Who."

For Harry, it all sounded very confusing, nevertheless he was excited to know of the plot happening at the castle. It sounded like an adventure. Although he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk it, with how dangerous the creature guarding it sounded. He didn't ask Lynne any more questions and together they kept studying quietly and then returned to their common room.

​

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The second week went by quickly as he fell into a rhythm, and even though he couldn't confirm it due to ending up tired and sleepy each day, he suspected Lynne didn't sleep or eat at all. He never saw her eating at the great hall or ever woken up earlier than her, even though he tried several times. She was always ready for him.

With Friday and the end of the week came their first flying lesson, and Harry was excited to fly for the first time, along with his classmates. That afternoon, they walked outside the castle. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years were lined up in two rows with brooms by their sides laid down by Madame Hooch. Harry observed her short hair and hawk yellow eyes the likes he had never seen. Behind her the small Charms professor followed.

"Good afternoon, class, good afternoon. Welcome to your first flying lesson. You are joined by Professor Flitwick today because of the incident yesterday with the Gryffindor boy. Nasty fall that one."

If she thought that was reassuring it had the opposite reaction clearly. Everyone was scared… except maybe Lynne who had her usual blank face.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone, stand on the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, 'Up'."

A chorus of 'Ups' quickly followed. To Harry's amazement his broom shot up at his first try straight into his hand. He glanced around and saw that a few were struggling, Lynne already had hers in her hand and he was sure he never heard her even say the words.

The ones who didn't manage it had to pick it up manually from the ground as Madame Hooch continued with the lesson.

"Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end. When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down."

In his excitement he almost kicked-off right there but he felt the cold hand from Lynne touch his shoulder and made him pause.

"On my whistle. 3, 2, 1."

At the sound of the whistle he kicked as hard as he could and shot up to the sky. He hovered, controlling his broom and steadying himself from time to time. He was finding it quite easy to handle and he really wanted to test the limits of the broom already. Feeling confident he gained speed dodging classmates and objects in his path, so focused on his task he didn't hear Hooch telling him to drop down. He had done about 12 laps when he saw his instructor waving at him and making him stop in his tracks, almost falling off the broom, only to be caught by Lynne that was all of a sudden beside him in the air.

"Mister Potter, Miss. Volant, get down this instant! Have you both gone mad?!"

Hooch was furious at them when they landed and started a long rant about safety and endangering the class by flying fast all the while Flitwick was clearly amused.

"It was a nice display of flying you two, I hope to see you try-out for Ravenclaw's Quidditch team next year."

"I'm sorry Professors, I got too excited." pleaded Harry. Lynne just gave them a small apologetic bow.

"No one was hurt, Mister Potter, it's alright." Flitwick said while looking at Madame Hooch.

"Well… yes, no one was hurt but still I expect my instruction to be followed next time. Can't have students doing whatever they want in my class."

They returned to their dorms to rest and catch up on a few things Lynne wanted to teach him. The common room was filled with gossip and they didn't manage to even sit when a few of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team students bombarded them with questions about what they had done.

Apparently Flitwick boasted that they had talent waiting for them. They offered them to participate in their weekly trainings and to tutor them for next year. Harry found himself a bit overwhelmed by the attention but nevertheless a feeling of belonging made him quite happy.

Lynne was aloof at best but she said she would follow Harry along. The next few weeks he spent a few days with the Quidditch team, as well as with his classmates who were now being more friendly and open to him. The only constant being Lynne which the Ravenclaws had begun to call her his shadow.

If only they knew that Harry was the one chasing behind her and trying to learn everything he could out of her, they were talking with the pocketwatch a lot so people also thought that she was quiet because of her condition.

Of course, having a small secret between them meant that he thought they shared a deeper connection and she had a lot more to talk about when no one was listening. Something that was only known to him, something that no matter their knowledge they wouldn't find out.

In the days that followed there was a lot of gossip going around, apparently an infamous pair of twins encountered a Cerberus on the third floor corridor, which Harry now knew was the creature guarding the place. Although it could be an exaggeration with those two, the name 'Fluffy' made sense for a dog. A big mean three-headed dog, but a dog all the same.

Safe to say, he didn't want to approach it anymore and wondered how anyone could be so careless and task it to guard something inside the castle full of students. There was also gossip involving Malfoy and a few Gryffindors after their flying lesson and talk of a duel between the smallest Weasley and him, but there were no details really so he assumed that didn't happen in the end.

One day at the great hall he overheard Seamus, Granger, Longbottom and Weasley talking about the third-floor corridor, apparently they also went looking for some reason, Granger was furious with them and stormed out leaving them behind.

Lynne and Harry found her in the library afterwards doing homework. They sat at another table to do theirs as well. Harry was curious about the cerberus and wanted to ask but he didn't know how to approach her.

What are you thinking of?

Lynne pulled him out of his thoughts and was looking at him intensely.

Just curious about the cerberus, maybe we could ask Granger. You heard her earlier.

He was learning to answer quickly with the pocket watch.

Well, we could, but I worry with her kind of temper she may not welcome it.

And that was true, she had displayed quite a temper at the great hall and now she looked focused on her homework. Bothering her would probably make her ignore them.

Sighing he continued with his homework, he was almost done with all of his essays. He had used History of magic to advance a bit on every subject and it was working for him so far.

"Ahem… do you have a moment?" He looked in the direction of the voice startled and there she was, the bushy haired girl approaching them at their table.

"Hello, Miss Granger."

"Hi… I've noticed you guys are studying hard, do you guys need help? I already finished all my assignments."

Lynne looked at him with a small half-smile.

Want and you shall receive.

Harry giggled a bit which caused the girl to frown and her smile disappearing.

Ups.

"Sorry, we are not laughing at you, it's just that I just said that I wanted to approach you and ask you something."

"We already finished our assignments as well, Harry was just finishing with the transfiguration essay, so maybe you would like to talk with us?"

"Uh, sure, what about?"

"First introductions, I'm Lynne Volant, you can call me Lynne."

"Oh right, I'm Hermione."

"Nice to meet you, Hermione, you can call me Harry."

She fiddled a bit with her fingers and looked nervous.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Is it true that you went into the third-floor corridor? You saw the cerbe-?"

Her eyes went wide and she put a finger on his mouth.

"Shhh, I don't want to talk about that, it's forbidden I could get expelled." she whispered frantically.

"It's true then…"

"Yes… why do you ask?" She looked on edge now and Harry thought that she was going to bolt away at any minute.

"Just that the creature is Hagrid's and I was curious about it, sorry. It's guarding something in there and we just don't know what."

"Well I for one do NOT want anything to do with that, as I said to my annoying classmates, I don't want to end up dead or worse, expelled."

That got a laugh out of Lynne which was quite rare and sounded like a scratching of metal.

"Well, you have nice priorities at least. Do you want to meet regularly with us here? It seems you don't get along well with your 'annoying' classmates."

"Yes, I would love to." She blurted out quickly.

"Awesome, we would love to have more people in our study group, the other Ravens usually ask for help here and there but they don't join us in the library yet."

Harry liked having more friends to talk to and she seemed alright, although a bit nervous around them.

"Just don't boss us around if you know something well enough, Harry is learning from scratch and although he picks up things quickly, he doesn't need nagging."

Hermione looked surprised at her for a minute.

"How do you know I'm bossy? We don't have classes together."

"Oh, the castle is a gossip mill, Hermione and we basically know everything there is to know about first years, apparently our classmates enjoy that."

She frowned again and looked at her feet.

"I will try."

"Awesome! We usually meet in free periods or after class, around 5pm here, sometimes we won't be here but I can let you know somehow."

"Uh… alright."

They talked about a few subjects that they liked so far and what Harry learned with Lynne in their free time. She was surprised that he was learning wizarding customs and culture, clearly not aware that Harry grew up with muggles. Once she got over her initial shyness she was talking for the both of them.

She seems fine, although she rants a lot.

Harry chuckled. Having made a new friend, Lynne and Harry made their exit out of the library, with a small wave to Hermione. Homework done, it was time to keep exploring the castle and going back to their classmates in the common room. They sometimes would invite Harry to play Exploding snap and Gobstones which was entertaining.

Games that were popular for first years that grew up with magical parents but at least they included everyone.

Overall, for Harry, Hogwarts was looking more like a home than Surrey had ever been. It filled him with happy feelings and he was in a very good mood each day. Having full meals was also changing his body a bit, he wasn't looking as scrawny.

All positives so far.​

 

[Lucernello]

Chapter 3 - Automaton

As the month progressed and they entered October's first weeks, Lynne and Harry started practicing offensive and defensive spells. Professor Quirrell's class was terrible and they looked for alternative ways to learn what they were supposed to. They came upon a book at the library that was used for Defense against the Dark Arts 10 years ago, a retired auror had introduced it as second year material but it was easy to master and more entertaining than to suffer Quirrell's stutter.

They would regularly find empty classrooms to practice and spend their free time just going over shields, counter-curses and hexes. Harry was falling into the rhythm of keeping up with Lynne, who was utterly brilliant at everything so far, while also keeping his friendships with his classmates aflame, participating in the common room and even meeting up with Hermione to keep up with homework. Although he didn't have close friends in other houses, sharing almost all of his classes with Hufflepufs was pleasant as they were kind and friendly enough.

Harry was currently panting trying to regain his breath after practicing defensive spells against Lynne. She was quite scary and fast, he was barely able to dodge sometimes, he also had to admit he was out of shape physically while she never seemed to run out of energy, he wondered if she would ever get tired during practice.

"Give me a small break, Lynne."

She broke her stance and pocketed her wand.

"Of course, Harry."

"Also… I wanted to ask you a few questions, they may be uncomfortable but I'm worried."

She nodded and he started fidgeting with his hands and tried to gather his thoughts in order to ask away without being overly rude.

"I've never seen you in your room, and neither did your roommates, you don't sleep do you? You don't eat either, no one has seen you grab a bite ever, but you are never tired. Some of the older students even call you a vampire. Are you…?"

She looked at him for a few seconds, deciding what to answer.

"I cannot answer these questions, Harry. All I can say is that you don't need to worry about me at all, I'm perfectly healthy."

He stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you-- are you a type of creature?"

"No. I'm not any kind of magical creature. And although Vampires do not require sleep, they get tired pretty easily, especially during the day."

"Then how is it possible?"

" I cannot say, you will have to figure it out."

"Is it one of those secrets?"

"Yes... "

"What else can you tell me?"

"My body is hardened and my limbs are all enhanced prosthetics. Magic moves them at will and I have access to a lot of magic in this castle so I won't have issues at all with movement."

"That's amazing, I never thought something like that was possible, even in a world of magic."

"Yes well… it seems it is time to get even more books if this surprises you, I'm sure I will be able to bury you in them soon."

Harry giggled. "Yes, I guess with you, there isn't such a thing as too many books."

"For the time being, don't worry too much about it, Harry. I'm fine."

Harry let the matter rest for now, he wanted to investigate and learn more about Lynne, there were many things that she was not allowed to say it seems. It made sense, her guardian didn't want people to know the details, probably to protect her in some way, maybe that knowledge could be used against her. Would it be alright to investigate further then? Risk others also knowing?

Your thoughts are deafening.

Harry sighed and ruffled his hair, straightened and readied his wand. "Yeah, alright. Sorry, let's go again."


​

---

Hermione was lost in thought while making her way to the library. It was Friday so she was going to use her free time for a quick study and research session. So many things were not going the way she was expecting, she thought that being in Gryffindor was going to be amazing and it turned out to be the opposite. Her own classmates and even the older students from different years were loud, obnoxious and she was finding it hard to bond with anyone in her own house.

They were also bullies that would play pranks on Slytherins and they would often boast about how cruel they were, always thinking they were the good guys for having one-upped the evil snakes. She had gone to her head of house Professor McGonagall but she had dismissed her as just boys being boys and a few pranks not being that bad of a thing. Not being able to connect with her peers was slowly making her more anxious and stressed. She felt like she was back in primary school, outcast and alone.

She was slowly making friends with the Ravenclaws that would meet at the library to study or just talk about things that were interesting to research so at least there was something to look up to, but it was also making her wish she could have been sorted in the house of ravens instead. They were competitive and sometimes a bit jealous of knowledge but that was fun and challenging instead of just being goofy and loud. She felt out of place in her house.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, in particular, grated on her nerves more than she cared to admit. They were inseparable, always giggling over things Hermione found utterly pointless, like which perfume smells like fairy wings, which older boys were "sooo dreamy," and which shoes matches best with their weekend robes. She tried in the beginning to join their conversations, to find common ground, but every attempt was met with polite smiles that didn't reach their eyes, or worse, bored glances that made her feel invisible.

They even snorted at her once when she offered to help them study as if the very idea of being near books was laughable. Parvati had this habit of acting shocked whenever Hermione didn't know some piece of wizarding pop culture, like she was supposed to have grown up reading Witch Weekly. It was exhausting to say the least. They weren't cruel exactly, but they made her feel like a dusty encyclopedia in a room full of glittering gossip magazines and pompous pictures.

Sighing she let her thoughts return to normal and wondered which section of the library she could set her eyes on today. She knew that the study group was not going to be in there today, most of them agreed they needed a bit of a rest before the chaos that comes with exams started although they did promise to help revise and they included her as well. It was a nice feeling, being part of a group and maybe making more friends soon. She really wanted to have more classes with Ravenclaws.

Most of her classes were with Slytherins, a decision that was stupid in her opinion, it was a hazard to be in there when both were trying to sabotage each other. She had stayed far away from trouble so far, but it was only a matter of time for someone to point at the "muggleborn know-it-all", and at this point she was thinking it could come from either side.

With those worries in mind she walked into a weird situation happening in front of her, a few corridors away from the library three older Ravenclaw boys were cornering a blonde girl from their house as well. Their backs against Hermione, she was going to lower her head, pretend nothing was wrong and continue her way when she caught the glint from the shiny metallic arms she had learned to know this last couple of days.

"You think you are so smart, freak, looking like that no wonder you are trying to make a name for yourself. No good wizard would take your hideous looking self."

Lynne was being harassed by older students from her own house in front of her and she looked like a deer in front of headlights. She couldn't move.

"Not to mention you being so poor that you cannot afford a Skele-gro won't give you many options either."

She flinched at the harsh cruel words that had so much bite on them, if those were directed at her she was sure she would be crying.

"But we will take pity on you of course, after all we are not like the rest, I'm sure you can satisfy us all the same." continued another one of them.

"You already look like a toy after all, right?"

Their laughs are malicious and mockingly mean. On the other hand, Lynne looked calmed and composed, her gaze calculating and focused on them. Hermione knew from Harry that Lynne was good with her magic, and that this could escalate to a full blown confrontation. Gathering some of that Gryffindor courage she pulled her wand out but no spell came to her mind. One of the older boys leaned closer.

"We are talking to you, pile of screws!"

He tried to grab her hair but she moved quickly and grabbed his hand instead, and squeezed hard. A loud cracking noise followed by the scream of the older boy filled the hallway and froze the other two. Standing there doing nothing was clearly not the best decision as Lynne quickly spinned and kicked one after the other in quick succession and they went flying against the wall. With a loud thump noise they fell and proceeded to whine clutching their stomachs.

Lynne, still holding the hand of the screaming boy, spoke for the first time, her voice devoid of emotion and rough as always.

"If you lay a hand again on me or any other first or second year, I will crush your balls instead. Am I clear?"

"Aahhh, please let go, it hurts so much!"

She squeezed more, making him squeal in panic, his body shaking.

"I didn't hear you say it was clear."

"It's clear! Ack! It's clear! I'm sorry! Please let go!" He said in between sobs.

"Good. Remember, I will know if you are being a bother again."

She finally let go of him, the older student crying now on the floor, grabbing his hand in pain, his fingers bent in weird shapes. To Hermione, it looked so painful she had to avert her gaze. She looked up and saw that now Lynne was watching her, and on her hands now lay her wand making the Gryffindor flinch in fear. Hermione knew she should have intervened at least to help her in some way, so that they knew they weren't alone, but she was not brave enough and now Lynne looked ready to hex her for it.

Instead of pointing her wand at her, she bent down beside the sobbing teen and pointed her wand at him. Hermione was scared but the blonde muttered a spell which began fixing the boy's hand in a grotesque and nosy way, his bones mended with a loud snap at which he whelped and sobbed again.

"Go to the hospital wing. And take them as well with you." She ordered while looking at the two still lying on the floor groaning.

Slowly the older Ravenclaw got up, helped his friends up as well and they started walking away wincing in pain.

"Hermione."

Her voice made Hermione jump startled.

"I-I'm sorry, Lynne." She was breathing fast and trying to suppress a sob "I didn't know what to do."

In that moment more students and professor Flitwick came running, probably following the screaming that happened earlier.

"What happened here?! I demand explanations!" said the squeaky voice of the half-goblin, looking at the wounded trio of students.

"They were playing around and now they are hurt, professor. Something akin to 'dueling'. I just happened to be here and I healed his injured hand, but they were heading to the hospital wing to take a look at their wounds." She said.

Hermione bit her tongue as Lynne was carefully avoiding the truth without lying. The professor looked skeptical but the older students just nodded along.

"Well, dueling in the hallways is dangerous, but seeing as you seemed to have learned your lesson I won't give you detentions, 20 points from Ravenclaw. Don't attempt that again boys."

The other students dispersed at that and a few helped the trio walk away. Hermione was biting her lips, resisting the urge to not rattle on what really happened. Lynne seemed to understand and moved closer to her. To say Hermione was scared of her now was an understatement. Flitwick, noticing her nervousness, turned towards them.

"We will be heading to the library now, professor" said Lynne.

The small professor looked suspiciously at her but said nothing, the sudden silence made Hermione hold her breath. Lynne didn't seem to have a problem as she started walking normally, completely ignoring the piercing stare. She didn't want to be left behind so she quickly followed without looking back and hiding her face through her many curls.

When they turned the corner Lynne was gone as if banishing on thin air.

Two weeks later, she decided to tell Harry about what happened, it took her a while to gather her Gryffindor courage, she knew she needed to get it off her chest eventually but she was scared that he wouldn't believe her.

​

---

Hermione cornered him after lunch, just outside the library. Her arms were folded tightly, and she looked more determined than usual.

"Harry, can I talk to you?"

He nodded, sensing her urgency. They found a quiet alcove beneath a tall stained glass window, just out of earshot from the others.

"It's about Lynne," she said. "I know she's your friend and this may sound bad coming from me, but there is something you should know."

Harry frowned. "Alright. What is it?"

Hermione hesitated, then said in a low voice, "Did you hear about what happened to those Ravenclaw boys? The ones that were punished for dueling in the hallways?"

He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, a few people said they hexed each other and ended up in the hospital wing. I didn't hear the full story."

"I did," Hermione said, her voice tight. "I saw it. They were mocking her about her arms, calling her names, blocking her way, humiliating her. She didn't yell or argue. But as soon as they came close to her, she was merciless. I can still hear the scream at times… it was traumatizing."

Harry listened silently. So she continued.

"With two powerful kicks she sent two of them flying! It made no sense, there was no spell, just her kick. Then she grabbed the hand of the one closer to her… I could hear the bones break, Harry. He was crying. Begging. She didn't stop."

Harry's stomach turned while Hermione retold the events.

"Then she fixed it. With a spell I've never seen. The hand twisted and snapped back together like it was being stitched by invisible wire. It was... it was awful and it looked painful, and she looked calm the whole time and there was no anger and no fear and, and… just coldness."

She was breathing hard now anxiously.

He swallowed. "Why did they lie about it?"

"She guided the conversation, frightened them into agreeing with her that it was in a duel."

Harry could feel that she was scared of her, and if it was true what she did, it was reasonable. But Lynne had been nothing but fair to him, he could always just ask her about it later on, she couldn't lie after all.

"Well, if they were bothering her in the first place, it sounds like they learned their lesson."

"I… I know, I just think it was unnecessarily cruel." Hermione whispered. "I also think... I think you need to be careful, I wouldn't want to be close to her if she ever gets angry considering this was her being calm."

He gave a small nod. "I think she could explain this herself, she has always been reasonable. I'll talk to her."

Hermione stepped back, hesitant.

"Don't worry, I won't tell her you told me."

She looked relieved at that, then nodded and walked off toward her common room. Harry remained, staring at the floor, caught between admiration, and something colder. He hated bullies and they would find no sympathy from him.

He briefly wondered how to approach his friend and figured out that the best would be to just directly ask her.

Later that evening, Harry caught up with Lynne in the common room. She sat alone by the window, the fading light of sunset casting golden lines across her face as she scribbled notes into a small leather-bound book. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside her.

"Lynne? Can I ask you something?"

"You technically already did. "

She didn't look up. He smiled faintly.

"Right. Another question then. About those boys from earlier this month. The Ravenclaws who ended up in the hospital wing. Did they bother you again?"

Lynne paused. Her quill stopped moving, hovering above the page.

"No. I'm surprised they talked about it. "

He wasn't going to betray his word so he said nothing about Hermione.

"They were mocking you, right? About your arms."

"Words that I don't mind. "

Lynne still didn't look at him. Harry shrugged.

"I did what I did because no one should touch someone else if they are not ready for a fight." she continued.

"They chose the wrong person to try to fight."

Harry nodded.

"They were bullies. I don't like bullies. I've lived with them most of my life. You stood up for yourself. Maybe not how I would've done it, but you didn't start it."

She finally turned to him. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was quieter than usual.

"I gave them a warning. They ignored it. "

He nodded slowly. "I figured as much. I'm not mad. I just wanted to hear it from you."

She nodded back and they sat in silence after that, watching through the windows as the last light faded behind the distant hills.

​

---

The following weeks Harry kept up with the top students of his year, the exams were not here yet, but there were a few assignments already graded which mattered still. Not many were keeping tally but he was the top point scorer as well, he was proud and although he would sometimes clash with Hermione due to her very competitive nature, Lynne would encourage him all the time.

He knew he wasn't at her level yet but at this point he was sure no one was and always wondered why. He thought that it made little sense attending classes if you already knew everything there was to learn, she wasn't being arrogant about it and that made him feel at ease with her enough not to ask her about it.

Malfoy had been an ass a few times to her, rumor spread that she probably had little money to her name even if she was a pureblood, something about a potion that should have been used to regrow her arms. Classes with Slytherins were few and they had little to no interaction. Harry wished he would stop parroting about everything his dad said so that they could be friends.

Halloween brought a strange energy to the castle. Floating pumpkins and glowing candles lit the halls with a festive charm, and the Great Hall had been transformed into a spectacle of orange, gold, and violet lights. Harry had never seen so much food in one place. He sat between Lynne and Marcus, laughing at a joke Terry Boot had made about Peeves charming all the Hufflepuffs' shoes to scream.

Still, something was eating at him. Hermione had been absent from the Great Hall. She wasn't in their study group that afternoon either. Harry had heard from Padma that she'd run off to the girls' bathroom after an argument with Ron Weasley, but nobody seemed too concerned. Lynne had glanced in that direction briefly, but said nothing. She was staring at the enchanted ceiling, unreadable as ever.

"You're thinking too loud, again. " Lynne muttered, breaking his thoughts.

He blinked. "I'm just worried about Hermione. She looked really upset earlier. I'm not sure she even left the bathroom yet."

"She is in the castle. She is safe. "

That should have been comforting but it really wasn't. In that exact moment, Professor Quirrell burst through the double doors of the Great Hall, pale and trembling.

"TROLL! T-troll! In the d-dungeons! Thought you ought to know!"

He fainted and panic followed. Students screamed, prefects tried to herd their houses, and Dumbledore shouted for order. Professors bolted from the hall. The Ravenclaws were being escorted to their tower, but Harry hung back.

He turned to Lynne. "She's not in the Great Hall. Hermione. She's alone, she was crying in the bathroom!" Lynne did not move, her eyes were sharp now. Cold. Calculating.

"Lynne." pleaded Harry.

"Then we must move. Quietly. Follow me. "

She took his hand and pulled him along, avoiding the crowds. Somehow she knew the best path to take, one that kept them out of sight of their prefects. Her steps were silent. Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest, but Lynne's grip was steady.

As they neared the corridor by the girls' lavatory, the stench hit them first. The troll was massive, gray, misshapen, with a club nearly as large as the hallway itself. It lumbered forward, ducking to enter the girl's bathroom. For a second they both held their breaths until a scream echoed from behind the bathroom door.

Harry moved, but Lynne was faster, in a blur, the door exploded open with a flick of her hand and she entered as well. Harry quickly followed behind her. Hermione was cornered, clutching a broken sink pipe looking terrified.

"Get down! " Lynne ordered. Her broken voice was steel.

Hermione dropped. The troll turned, bellowed, curious at the new broken sound of Lynne's voice. His club hit a few stalls as he turned, sending shards and splinters all over.

After a few seconds, the troll decided he didn't like blondes much and he attacked. Lynne stepped forward just as it swung. The club came crashing down. She raised her left arm in defense and the metal limb met the wood with a sickening crack. Dust exploded from the impact, and the floor trembled but Lynne didn't move an inch. Her arm, however, had fractured with a loud crack.

Harry gasped as Lynne moved with precision. Her wand was already in her hand as she ducked under the troll's legs.

"Harry! Distract it! "

Startled, Harry waved his wand wildly. His mind went into overdrive over which spells to use, what he could do to actually bother a troll. He briefly considered throwing something at him but his few months of training paid off as he remembered the most advanced spell he managed to pull off recently.

"L-Lumos Maxima!"

A flash of light exploded in the troll's face. It roared and staggered back, swinging blindly, his club too big to actually traverse much, wood hitting stone. Lynne moved just in time to avoid being stepped on by the now confused, angry and blind troll. It stopped for a second trying to regain his view and that was all Lynne needed. Stepping in front of it again she aimed carefully.

"Confringo! "

The explosion was deafening as the spell struck the troll right in his face. A blast of raw force and fire erupted, sending shards of stone and bone flying. The creature reeled, its death instant, its massive frame collapsing backward with a crash that shook the floor. Smoke curled from its still form as blood began to pool on the floor.

Silence fell between the pair while Hermione sobbed softly, still laying down on her knees. Harry ran to her, helping her up.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded mutely, then stared at Lynne, who was clutching her arm that lay limp now, unmoving. Cracks ran down the prosthetic like veins of lightning. A few of the metal shards were scattered through the floor.

"You're hurt," Hermione whispered.

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt. I just hope it will mend. "

Footsteps echoed. Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell arrived, wands raised. Their eyes took in the fallen troll, the shattered floor, and the three first years.

"What is the meaning of this?!" McGonagall shrieked.

Hermione stepped forward shaking. "It's my fault, Professor. I was upset and came here alone. Harry and Lynne came to find me. They saved me."

Snape narrowed his eyes. His gaze lingered on Lynne longer than necessary. Quirrell looked pale. Paler than usual.

McGonagall sighed. "Miss Volant you are hurt… Severus, please take her to the hospital Wing. Five points from Gryffindor for wandering off. But... ten points each to Mr. Potter and Miss Volant, for sheer dumb luck."

"Take care of this Quirinus, please." she continued.

"R-right. W-what a m-mess." he commented back.

As they were about to be escorted back, Harry glanced at Lynne.

"Thank you, I didn't want you to get hurt."

She didn't answer. But in his pocket, the watch clicked.

Someone set this up, a troll is too dumb to enter on his own. We need to be careful.

As he watched her being led by professor Snape he noticed he was limping, clearly he had been hurt as well. He felt a growing sense of anxiety and dread.

Harry couldn't sleep that night and neither did Hermione.

​

---

She sat curled up in her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. The image of Lynne standing between her and the troll was burned into her memory.

She had risked her life. For her. She remembered the sound of that metal arm shattering under the troll's club. The way Lynne didn't even flinch. No scream, no fear. But that spell…

That wasn't something they were supposed to know. It wasn't a first-year spell, she had read ahead up to third-year and it was still not there. It was dangerous, violent, and lethal. Lynne had cast it like it was second nature. What kind of person could destroy something so big, so alive, without blinking?

Hermione had thanked her, of course. Walking beside Harry in silence as they escorted her back to Gryffindor's Common Room, she told herself everything was fine. But the truth was, she didn't know how to feel.

Gratitude. Fear. Awe. She owed Lynne her life but she was terrified of her, and she was reminded of what happened a few weeks back. What if she had used the spell against her bullies? She shivered trying to put that thought back from where it came.

Deep in thought she came to realize she felt conflicted, for the first time since she came to Hogwarts she was sure that Harry and Lynne were her friends, they came to save her, despite the risk, and were already worried for her in the first place.

All those feelings of sadness, not fitting in, wanting to leave everything behind were slowly being replaced. And although she was pretty scared of Lynne, she would remember her heroes.

​

---

The hospital wing was quiet. Dumbledore stood just outside, going over his head about what just happened. He peeked into the room where the golden-haired first year was being treated by Madam Pomfrey.

She lay on the far bed, her prosthetic arm extended over her chest as the healer examined it. The limb had partially cracked along the seams, the embedded runes faintly flickering. There were some holes here and there, shards that had fallen off from the impact.

"This isn't standard prosthetic magic," Pomfrey muttered. "It almost feels biological… Doesn't it hurt?"

"No, I don't feel pain on them. They are quite numb. Will it heal? "

The matron blinked. "It's repairing itself. They must have some runes for how it's working but I've never seen anything like it. Maybe professor Babbling can help you later on with more information on them. But you, how do you feel, Miss Volant?"

"Functional. "

Pomfrey pursed her lips. "That's not what I asked."

Before she could press further, he made his presence known.

"If I may, Poppy," said Dumbledore as he entered. The matron sighed, nodded, and gave Lynne a sharp glance.

"She's under observation, but if you think a conversation won't shatter her remaining arm, I'll leave you to it."

When the doors closed, Dumbledore pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. His expression was calm, thoughtful.

"Miss Volant," he began gently. "Tonight was... eventful."

Lynne said nothing.

"You acted bravely," he continued. "And with great precision. I daresay few students could have done the same."

Still, she was silent. He watched her for a long moment. Then his eyes, ancient and piercing, met hers.

"Will you not answer?" he said softly. "I just would like to understand you better."

Lynne felt the pressure before she saw it, an invisible tendril of magic trying to slide into her thoughts. She blinked slowly. And pushed it out. She had been trained on this but she was not expecting an intrusion on her mind from the headmaster of the school. With the same quiet ease she used to walk unnoticed through a corridor, she gently nudged him out. Dumbledore's brow lifted slightly.

"Curious," he murmured.

Still, she gave no reply.

"You knew how to cast the blasting curse." he said, changing tack. "That is not a spell taught in first-year lessons."

"I've learned it, by myself." Lynne replied simply.

He gave a small smile. "So I gathered. May I ask you something, Miss Volant?"

She inclined her head.

"You had incredible courage when facing the troll for your friends. But I can't help but wonder if you could have done something better. Miss Granger seemed quite distressed. Do you feel any remorse? For killing the troll the way you did?"

Her answer came without hesitation.

"No."

Dumbledore studied her face closely, but found nothing to read.

"Why not?"

"It was a threat. It endangered a student. I stopped it."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands again.

"A student? I see."

There was no further condemnation. Only silence, and the weight of judgment that didn't need to be spoken aloud. She hadn't said friend, just a student. Odd, no one would risk their lives for just any student.

He stood. "We shall speak again, I'm sure."

When he was about to leave Lynne exhaled softly. Her injured arm flickered once, then began to glow faintly as the runes realigned. The pieces were already moving.

​

---

In the headmaster's office, tension ran high. Dumbledore sat at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin. McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick stood in a half-circle around him.

"A first-year using the blasting curse," Snape said coldly. "That alone is enough to raise questions."

"And Potter cast Lumos Maxima," McGonagall added. "That is advanced for a first-level charmwork."

"They should not be capable of it." Flitwick said with worry. "It takes more than knowledge, it takes control."

"She's been teaching him, I am sure. She's... unnatural. There is something more to her than what she appears." Snape murmured.

Dumbledore remained quiet, the flicker of firelight reflecting in his half-moon spectacles.

"They did save Miss Granger," he said slowly. "That won't be ignored."

He stood at last, moving to the window. "Miss Volant is an enigma. She was wary of me… or maybe it's with everyone, but during our conversation she mostly remained silent."

"Maybe she is in shock?" Flitwick argumented.

"I also asked Miss Granger for her version of events."

McGonagall folded her arms. "What did you learn, Albus?"

"Very little," Dumbledore replied. "But I did ask Miss Volant how she felt, but she said nothing. The only thing she answered troubled me a bit, I asked if she felt any remorse for the creature."

Silence followed.

"And?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore turned, his voice quiet. "She answered truthfully. She feels no regret for killing the troll."

Flitwick looked disturbed. "None at all?"

"None. She was calm and composed."

McGonagall's frown deepened. "She protected Miss Granger, I don't believe anyone would feel remorse for protecting a friend, especially if it was an out of control creature."

"Yes." Dumbledore said softly. "She protected her without hesitation, I'm uncertain if she considers Granger her friend but it was enough to act. On the other hand… She took a life without pause, without weight and that could mean something else, either she is trained, or experienced."

"Do you think she's dangerous? Should we be concerned for our students?" Flitwick asked.

"I think she's purposeful." Dumbledore replied. "And in that, there is danger."

He returned to his chair, hands folding again.

"We should watch her closely. And be wary." No one argued.

"Stay Severus, the rest of you can return to your duties."

With a few glances between them they sighed. As the small professor and Deputy Headmistress left the office Dumbledore turned to his trusted spy.

"Her intentions are not certain yet."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You tried Legilimency on her."

Dumbledore gave a soft nod. That was something else that worried him deeply as well. He couldn't gain access to any thought or feeling, even having caught her by surprise.

"She deflected me. Not aggressively, subtly. Deliberately. I do not think she is unaware of what she is."

Snape's expression tightened. "Then she is hiding something."

"What about the other matter? How is your leg?"

"Whoever set the troll loose, I'm sure it was a distraction to access the third floor corridor. But they fled before I arrived, the door was unlocked and the beast was agitated. We are now sure it can stop whoever tries to enter."

Dumbledore noticed he ignored his second question but that was good enough for now.

"Go treat your injury, let me know if you need anything."

"Headmaster." With a slow nod he made a limping exit.

​

---

Harry lay in bed that night, wide awake. The curtains were drawn around him, soft and heavy, muffling the occasional rustle from Anthony Goldstein across the room. His thoughts raced too fast for sleep.

He thought of Hermione's trembling hands. He thought of Lynne's eyes full of focus and determination, no hesitation in them at all. How often he'd dreamed of being powerful enough to make such a stand for himself, he thought of Dudley and his gang cornering him in alleyways. Of being shoved, taunted and not being able to fight back.

Lynne hadn't dreamed. She'd acted and she didn't flinch. He admired that, and he was glad he made friends with her. But more than anything, he understood it. Still, part of him wondered what else she might be capable of and why. He rolled onto his side, staring into the dark.

But even as questions swirled in his mind, one thing sat heavier than the rest: she had protected him. Protected Hermione. More than once. Lynne never doubted herself. She never let fear stop her. Harry didn't know why she was like that, but he knew he wanted to be like that too. Strong enough to protect his friends. Brave enough to stand up, no matter what.

He thought about the spells she had used. The books she was always reading. The way she made time for him even when she didn't speak much made him realize that maybe he couldn't catch up to her now, but he could try and he was sure she would help, even encourage him.

He made a silent promise to himself. He would learn everything he could. About magic. About the world, on how to be strong. Someday, Lynne might need someone to protect her too and he wanted to be ready. But a small, twisting feeling tugged at his chest. She had gotten hurt. Because of him. He asked her to come with him to find Hermione. He wasn't strong or quick enough to help her in time. She had to yell at him first before he reacted.

She never complained. Never blamed him and even praised him for distracting it so quickly. But that didn't make it sit any easier in his stomach. He clenched the blankets tightly in his fists. He wouldn't let that happen again.​

 

[Lucernello]

Chapter 4 - Warbot

The morning of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match arrived with crisp wind and silver mist. Most of the school was buzzing with excitement over breakfast, but Harry sat across from Lynne at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, their plates half-full and untouched.

"You're not going to the match?"

Padma asked, passing them both on her way out.

"Maybe later," Harry answered vaguely.

Lynne said nothing. They had agreed to train together, and just as Harry thought, she was on board with helping him get stronger, he didn't mention strong like her but he was sure she understood.

Lynne led him to a clearing on the edge of the school grounds, near the greenhouses, where the castle was out of view but the lake shimmered faintly in the distance. They traded a few spells at first mostly dodging and dueling.

She then showed him a basic shielding charm, Protego. The way it was supposed to form a blueish-silver dome around the caster. It could block physical and magic attacks.

"Keep your feet wider. Center your intent. You can't cast anything properly if you don't have a clear picture and will."

Lynne said that having a correct stance centered the spell and stabilized it. Harry tried again. The charm fizzled.

"The wand is only part of the spell. Everything else is based on intent, let it out from here."

She pointed to his chest. He nodded, trying again. This time, the shield shimmered faintly, more a pulse than a barrier. She gave a tiny nod.

"Better."

He grinned. "Thanks."

"Let's try it, shall we? A simple stinging jinx for now, what do you say?"

Harry nodded nervously. He got into the correct stance and faced her. Her wand was already drawn and aimed at him.

"Alright, 1, 2, 3."

She fired the stinging hex and although he tried his best, his shield didn't work. A white light smashed against his shoulder and pain settled in as he was pushed back.

"Well… protego is a difficult spell after all, let's try again."

A few hours later he had tons of red marks all over his body, having failed to even block a single one of them. He didn't know what was missing yet or why it was not working out for him but Lynne said that he would eventually get it.

Frustrated with himself he wanted to keep going despite the pain, he wanted to at least get it right once. Lynne only looked at the sun and checked the hour. Her calculating and cold look again plastered on her face.

"Let's return for now, I want to research something for a bit tonight."

Harry wanted to complain but they had been at it for quite some time, he was sure the Quidditch match was over already so they could probably escape the chaos of it. He would have to practice more on his own.

"I have a healing salve in my trunk, let's go get it for the swollen hits."

He sighed in response.​

---

That night, the castle rested in uneasy silence. The echoes of cheering students had long faded. Even Peeves was quiet, perhaps having grown tired of harassing students, or boredom.

Sir Nicholas drifted lazily through the lower halls, humming an old funeral march and admiring the way the moonlight spilled through the high windows. It was a peaceful night. Most of the portraits dozed in their frames, and the students were tucked behind their house doors.

Being a ghost was not like being dead, not entirely. There was no breath, no warmth, no heartbeat, but there was memory. Sometimes too much of it that forgetting some things was actually healthier.

The world came to him muffled and cold, like he stood forever just outside a window he could never open. He drifted through walls and people alike, but neither gave way with welcome. The stone didn't flinch. The living didn't notice. He moved like a sigh no one remembered exhaling.

He could speak. He could listen. He could remember what it felt like to feel. But he could not change. He could not taste the feasts he watched. Could not rest. Could not sleep. Time passed, and yet it didn't, because ghosts did not dream. He was not part of the living world. And yet, cruelly, he was not quite free of it. He was… unfinished.

Unfinished, like the stroke that had nearly severed his head all those centuries ago. A botched execution, a misjudged blade, and now the source of eternal humiliation.

"Nearly" Headless. Not enough to be whole. Not enough to be accepted.

The Headless Hunt had refused him again last week. Their owl arrived at breakfast, how considerate. He didn't read it, but he knew the wording by heart. "Too much neck, not enough drama." Or some variation.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, proud in life, proper in death, was once again too neat to ride with the beheaded fools who thought themselves kings of the afterlife. He had not died with dignity and he was not remembered with honor. So now, he drifted.

Through halls that never changed. Through generations of students who sometimes passed right through him. Through silent corners where strange girls vanished behind tapestries at night, and left behind questions no one else seemed to ask.

There were things happening at Hogwarts. Things that didn't belong to the living world, or the dead one either and Sir Nicholas, who could not sleep, who could not rest, was starting to wonder if watching was all he had left.

He saw her again that night. A blonde girl wearing Ravenclaw robes. Gliding through the corridor below. No lantern moving through the darkness of the castle without making a sound. Not even the soft pad of footsteps on stone.

He recognized her vaguely, miss Volant. The quiet one. The one with the strange metal arms. She didn't speak much but she was always watching. Always listening. He hovered, curious, and floated after her. She passed by the statue of Devlin the Daring without hesitation and approached a faded tapestry few students even noticed. Her fingers touched the stone, and a panel slid open. Sir Nicholas blinked.

That passage hadn't been used since before his death. She didn't pause. She disappeared into the black tunnel, lit only for a second by the runes faintly glowing on her hands.

Sir Nicholas lingered there in the air, unsettled.

"Strange girl," he whispered to no one. "Very strange indeed."

He wondered if he should report this, Dumbledore had asked all ghosts to patrol certain areas but he wasn't doing that at the moment, and they weren't in the forbidden zones of the Castle.

In the end, he chose to ignore it, how bad could a first-year do after all? He was on his break as well. Humming back he drifted off without a second glance.​

---

The next morning, the Daily Prophet arrived in a flurry of wings and feathers. A large gray owl dropped a bundle directly into the middle of the Ravenclaw table. Terry Boot reached for it then froze.

"Blimey. Look at this."

Students leaned in. A bold headline took up nearly half the front page:

"Avery Found Dead in Knockturn Alley, Retired Auror Suspected."

Harry leaned closer, reading aloud.

"'Former Death Eater Evan Avery was discovered dead early this morning behind Talon's Rest. Sources claim the scene was untouched except for Avery's body, no signs of struggle, no witnesses. His wand was broken and placed atop his chest. His death was caused by a severing charm to the throat, delivered with surgical precision."

Hermione snatched the paper. "'The Auror Office has refused to comment, but an anonymous insider noted the execution mirrors methods used by Alastor Moody during the First Wizarding War. The only difference is a red butterfly painted on a nearby wall."

Whispers ran through the Great Hall like wildfire. Harry's fingers curled around the edge of the paper. His heart was still pounding. The article made it sound horrible, what kind of madman would do such a thing in times of peace. Harry thought about what it meant to do something like that. To plan it. To go through with it. To not even leave a trace. Was that what his parents had to go through when fighting against them?

He glanced sideways at Lynne. She, as usual, didn't react or blink even as she was hearing of the news, it seemed not much could spook her. She just took another sip from her glass. Harry said nothing and neither did Lynne.

In the background several students and even some professors were bickering about it. A murderer on the loose was not something to be calm but also it seemed most students just found this normal, as if the news of an assassination was not too uncommon.

Some students even acted excited as if this was just a murder mystery story that had no real impact on them at all, probably not associated with Death Eaters at all in the past or maybe just oblivious. There were some worried faces in Slytherin and Ravenclaw and perturbed faces all around at the gruesome aspect of it all.​

---

In the Ministry of Magic, Walden McNair crushed the Prophet in his gloved fist. The room was cold, deep beneath the main levels, where certain conversations could not be overheard. Iron lamps lined the stone walls, casting flickering shadows. A low table sat between them, its surface polished like obsidian. The air was heavy with unease.

"This is an outrage! That lunatic is still hunting us down like beasts in the street."

Across from him, Lucius Malfoy sat in a high-backed chair, calm and composed, but with a tightness in his mouth that betrayed unease. "If it is Moody, it's a liability we cannot ignore."

McNair slammed his hand on the table. "He should be in Azkaban."

Lucius's eyes narrowed slightly. "He has allies. And his reputation protects him. But these killings are becoming a pattern. If I can push a formal motion through the Wizengamot, perhaps we can get him detained under security suspicion."

"We need more than suspicion," McNair growled. "We need action."

"We need caution," Lucius replied. "And if these murders continue, public fear will do the work for us. Let them see Moody as a madman. Let them beg us to intervene. Avery is the first to be reported because he was found in Knockturn but we had 2 more missing, the same butterfly."

A junior official knocked and entered. "Sir? Auror Moody has been spotted leaving St. Mungo's, he was there all night. Claims he's been dealing with... flea bites."

Lucius raised an eyebrow and allowed a faint, disdainful smirk. "Charming."

McNair said nothing. His fists clenched tighter. He had seen what Moody did to Rosier. To Wilkes. He remembered the screams. He hadn't slept well since the war and now, all the memories were coming back.

"We will bring him in for questioning, if this isn't him then maybe we can at least lure the one behind this into a trap."

With the plan set in motion both gentlemen gave a small nod and parted ways, they had ears to whisper into agreeing with them.​

---

Meanwhile, in a crooked house that stood alone on a hill outside of Cardiff, hidden beneath layers of enchantments, curses, and more than a dozen tripwire charms, Alastor Moody stirred his tea with a trembling hand.

The sitting room was filled with old magical detectors, spinning spheres, rune-carved mirrors, softly humming artifacts. Most were cracked or flickering, but Moody didn't trust any one of them completely. A loaded crossbow leaned by the fireplace. His wand lay within easy reach, just next to a chipped tea cup.

His magical eye spun in lazy, erratic circles, scanning everything. Even the shadows.

He glanced at the Daily Prophet spread across his table, weighted at the corners by silver sickles.

"Avery," he muttered. "Didn't think he'd die in bed, but I wasn't expecting this."

His scarred face cracked into a smile.

"Clean work. Precise. No witnesses."

He sipped his tea.

"Whoever you are, you've got style."

He tapped his cup with one long, gnarled finger.

"Finally. Someone's doing it right."

A knock at his door made half the room light up in alarms. Moody didn't flinch. He waved them silent.

"I should commend them," he muttered with a grin. "If they don't kill me first."​

---

Beyond the polished glow of Diagon, where lanterns flickered warm against polished glass, Knockturn simmered in a half-life of smoke, damp stone, and whispers. The air was colder here, not in temperature, but in trust. The cobblestones were uneven and dark with things that hadn't washed away in years. Broken signs dangled from rusted hooks, and doors opened only enough for coins and paranoia to pass through.

The rain had come earlier. It hadn't cleaned the alley, just made the stench rise. Something metallic, something burnt, something sweet.

Borgin & Burkes loomed at the far end like a dead tooth, its windows too dark to be glass, too old to reflect. The shadows that clung to its corners didn't drift, they hung like secrets, still and heavy.

No children wandered here. No Ministry robes flashed past. Only those who had something to hide or business to finish.

The street outside the old bookshop was quiet. He had come to sell artifacts that held no value to him anymore. Some were stolen. Since the end of the war, living was getting hard for him.

He allowed himself a moment to wonder what could have been, if only the Dark Lord had triumphed. Musing, he didn't hear her. Travers was halfway through thinking on apparating when a shadow stepped behind him. No words, no warning.

The binding curse took hold of his body, a glint of metal flickered at the edge of his vision, arms attached to a small girl cloaked in black. She moved in front of him then swung her right arm in an arc, wand lit up. He felt his throat burn. A wet sound, then silence. He collapsed, eyes wide, his final breath fluttering into nothing but choking sounds.

She knelt beside the body, snapped his wand and placed it gently on his chest, then reached into her coat. A red butterfly cut from thin enchanted paper, impossibly detailed, fluttered in her palm for a moment before settling on his bloodstained collarbone.

With a sharp crack, she was gone.

The butterfly remained.​

---

SECOND MURDER IN KNOCKTURN – "CRIMSON WING" STRIKES AGAIN?

By Cassandra Bell, Senior Magical Correspondent

The body of former Death Eater Travers was discovered late last night outside an abandoned bookshop on the eastern edge of Knockturn Alley. Ministry officials have confirmed he was killed by a precise throat wound, his wand broken and placed on his chest in a manner identical to last week's murder of Evan Avery.

A red butterfly made of conjured parchment and soaked through with blood was found resting on the victim's robes. Witnesses say no one saw the attack, nor heard a spell cast.

The killings bear a disturbing resemblance to the so-called "Moody-style" executions from the last war, leading some to speculate that the infamous Auror may have trained a successor.

"This is a serial killer in the making." said former Obliviator Carla McBride. "It's not vengeance. They are sending a message. The red butterfly is the signature. They want us to know it's them."

Some have already begun referring to the unknown killer as The Crimson Wing. The Ministry has declined to comment on the growing theory that Alastor Moody may be connected to the events.



Harry folded the paper in half and pushed it aside.

"That's the second one this month," he said under his breath.

"Second?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. One last week too, Avery. They said he was found in knockturn as well. Same style."

"You know… when I first learnt that I was joining a magical world I thought it would be less dangerous than this." said Hermione. She looked down the table. Lynne was gone.

"Where did she go?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't even noticed her leave. He wondered where she was disappearing into, for a brief second he thought of using the pocket watch and asking her about it but he didn't want to bother her if she was busy. He would have to find her later on.​

---

The Ravenclaw common room was hushed beneath the weight of the first snowfall. November was ending now and winter was settling in, the humid weather making one feel the cold in the bones.

Outside the high windows, the towers of Hogwarts vanished into soft white. Inside, the fire cracked steadily, but it brought no warmth to Virgil. He sat slouched in a corner armchair, arms folded tight around himself, eyes fixed on the dancing flames like they might consume him. Maybe then, his memories would go away with him, but so far, they never did.

The second death had been reported that morning. First Avery, now Travers. Two former death eaters and also once friends of his now deceased family. The same method of assassination, throat cut and wand broken. Neatly placed on their chest, just like before.

Just like his parents.

Virgil had been five when his world collapsed, his family gone. The world had been large and warm, full of laughter and in a blink of an eye, it was all red. He could still remember it vividly, he had walked into the winter garden barefoot, his mother's slippers by the garden door. Her body, lying on the floor, neck opened like a torn ribbon. Her wand broken down in two pieces.

His vision was blurred by tears and his sobs were the only thing breaking the eerie silence. His father was down the hall, crumpled like a puppet with no strings, his elegant wand he always carried in the same state on his chest. His robes were scorched and his eyes stared past Virgil in panic, as if frozen while staring at a dementor.

His uncle arrived just in time to grab him while he was having a panic attack. Screaming and crying for them to wake up, to come back, for his father to heal his wound like he always did, for her mother to give him a hug and tell him everything was fine.

He was told he was lucky to survive, that his parents were fighting on the right side of the war, that the auror who had caused their death would eventually die by his uncle's hands, but all he wanted was to have them back. The Prophet reported it as a casualty of war, while the rest of the Wizarding world cheered for the ministry's approval of using the unforgivables on Death Eaters.

He never spoke of it again, he mourned them every day and he couldn't separate the grief from the shame that followed the end of the war. His uncle never had his revenge, and his parents were convicted of terrorism against the magical nation.

The Fowler family had followed Voldemort, believing in his cause, they had spent gold to fund his campaign, they had given their lives in the end, and it was all for nought. He had hated the war, it had taken everything from him and even now, the name Fowler was a weight that dragged behind him like a chain.

His first year at Hogwarts he had been watched like a creature in a tank, some were sympathetic while others wore smug faces. Even among Ravenclaws, he was at first ostracized, he had to work really hard to not feel so dreadfully alone. Some of the other former death eaters' sons and daughters had tried warming up to him but he wasn't one of them. Their cause had destroyed his family.

And now… someone was out there killing them again, he should have felt vindicated yet he didn't. He felt sick, more alone than ever as he couldn't share what he was feeling with anyone. Totally afraid that maybe the war had never ended at all, and that the ghosts of the past would never leave him.​

---

Gibbon had made a life out of not dying. No one would call it living, not really, but the rail yard offered shelter and he still had friends willing to lend him a helping hand. Sometimes a rust-eaten shipping container served as his den, layered with silencing charms and anti-muggle wards. If he had the luxury, he would add detection runes to feel safe.

He'd stolen most of them… actually almost everything he had now was stolen. There was sometimes a mattress, sometimes a bed, he didn't want to stay in one place after all. The ministry never gave up hope of finding him, he was sure of this.

His wand lay under the pillow, he had three cursed daggers inside a small bedside table as well. Two empty potion vials lay on the floor and one cracked mirror. Those were all of his possessions this time.

Well…he had fear as well, he always had fear. He didn't sleep much, he didn't enjoy small pleasures anymore, he missed drinking but not since he saw a man with one eye in every alleyway shadow. The crazy auror wanted him, and the old crowd had scattered, his friends gone into hiding like him or not able to have him home openly.

Recently, he had gone more paranoid, Avery was gone, Travers too. Word was, someone had started cleaning house, quietly and surgically. He heard rumors of two others, disappearing without a trace, a crimson butterfly in their place. It brought him back.

He kept to his rules, never go out before dusk, never stay in one place more then six weeks, never open the door without checking for possible enemies. His favorite spell now being Homenum Revelio. He was still alive, that meant he was right, he was sure he would outlive everyone else, and oh how close he came to be wrong about that.

It came like smoke, a fog that pierced the outer ward that blinked once, then collapsed like a punctured lung. Gibbon shot to his feet, wand drawn, chest pounding. He grabbed a vial of powdered pearl-root from the floor and threw it against the doorway. The glass exploded in a flash of light, blinding briefly but there was no response. No cry of pain or sound of struggle.

He heard no footsteps and no voice, but he was aware enough when he heard a slight muffled metal sound, that was all he needed to act. He managed to dodge the initial curse barely, prepared to block anything else. He saw her step through the smoke like it belonged to her.

A girl, no older than sixteen, wearing black that didn't shine in contrast with her gleaming arms, etched with faint, ancient runes. Her face was expressionless, her steps made no sound. He knew that look so he didn't bother to speak or threaten, he bolted straight away.

Another curse missed his spine by inches, ducking behind a falling carriage. She followed without hesitation, her wand flicked. Steel fingers carved a path through the dark, she was faster and better and he knew that he wouldn't survive if she reached him.

Gibbon shouted, blasting through the far wall with his favorite spell.

"BOMBARDA!"

The tunnel beyond hadn't been used in years and it had been sealed behind a wall at the yard to avoid accidents. He didn't look back, not when her spell singed his shoulder, not even when he heard her feet gaining, clearly now avoiding subtlety for speed. He managed to break through her wards and apparated. Blind, desperate and bleeding.

He reappeared in a forest clearing three counties away. Collapsed, sobbing but alive. The wound on his shoulder burned and he clutched his teeth in pain, but he was breathing. He would make it out alive, he was sure of it. He also had seen her, the girl with metal arms, he could warn the others while escaping far away from this country.

Once he healed himself as best he could, he apparated once more into one of the Alleyways in Knockturn, headed for the public post. He wrote every word he could remember, every detail and sent it by owl to the ones who would surely face her in the future. People who still remembered the war, people who understood what was at stake, who would prepare better than he could.

With confidence renewed, he made his escape once more.​

---

The small girl stood alone in the rail yard, wand still raised. She knelt, staring at the spot where he had just vanished. She wouldn't leave a butterfly this time, it wasn't a kill, it was just a mistake. She had underestimated her opponent and she was sure there would be consequences from this failed attempt.

The air still smelled like rust and dust. She waved her wand repairing the hole in the wall, leaving nothing but the faint shimmer of displaced magic and the blood trail he left behind. A thin, sharp breath left her lips in frustration and concern. Her first mistake. She knew his wounds were not enough to kill him, enough to mark him but that was not what she intended.

Her fingers brushed the edge of a boot print leading towards the broken wall. She would have to remember every detail she could to find him again. She closed her eyes and went over what she did wrong. She hadn't calculated his reach soon enough, or the trajectory of where he was going, the panic that would lead him to instantly bolt away. She thought he would fight her instead.

She should have adjusted for Apparition under duress, she couldn't possibly know where he had jumped now, she should have cut deeper, should have aimed higher. She had failed.

In her coat, the butterfly remained unreleased. She did not place it, there was no message in failure. She slipped it back into the folded seam of her collar, fingers still vibrating with magic, her clothes stained with dirt. With a new objective in mind, she disappeared in a loud crack back to Hogsmead.

Moving under a disillusionment charm she passed through the stone walls like a ghost, her movements without sound, stepping into Hogwarts once more. Not even the staircases noticed her. She moved back all the way to her dormitory, inside everyone was sleeping.

She opened her trunk quietly and stepped inside, the extension charm making it possible to have her own room. She sat on her desk, her coat laid across the back of the chair, the lining still damp.

She reached for her journal, a small book with blank pages, just like the one she had gifted Harry. She wrote nothing for several minutes, her mind going over her mission, pen hovering.

Then finally:

Subject: Gibbon. Outcome: failed. Status: Alive.
Conclusion: Objective risk now exceeds containment parameters, primary mission compromised if detained.
Secondary mission deprioritized, master.
Target discretion advised
No further operations until reassurance.
Recalibration not necessary.

Her words disappeared as soon as she finished writing. A message to his guardian. She closed the book and went back to the common room. In the morning she would sit beside Harry at breakfast as if nothing had happened, she would walk the halls like every other student, but she would not act again. Not until she was better prepared.

Next time there may not be a second chance, if she failed, there would be no one left to protect him.​

---

The fire in the hearth burned low, casting long shadows across the study walls of Malfoy Manor. The windows were shuttered, the door warded ten times over. Only trusted men sat in the room, the atmosphere was gloomy and you could cut the tension with a butter knife.

Lucius Malfoy stood at the mantle, hands behind his back, eyes on the flames as if they might burn the answers he needed into the stone.

"She matches the description exactly." he said at last. "Metal arms, young, perfect posture and silent."

McNair scoffed. "A child."

"Gibbon disagrees." Lucius replied coolly. "And although paranoid, he is not one to lie."

The man in question wasn't present, but his words lay open on the table in a cracked, hastily folded letter, scrawled with ink blotches and splattered with something that might have been blood. The letter explained in detail how she had tried to murder him, how quick she was, her appearance, he had been meticulous.

Yaxley tapped the letter with one thick finger. "How do we know he isn't just rambling? Gibbon was always unstable."

"Draco described her in one of his letters home, weeks ago." Lucius said. His son didn't know who she was, he just thought she was odd, cold, sharp and smart.

"He had mentioned the arms and she is at the top in her year. I didn't think anything of it until now. She is at Hogwarts." He finished solemnly.

"If she has anything to do with that crazy bitch Bellatrix she might have trained that monstrosity herself somehow!" McNair cursed under his breath. "She might be hunting us for betraying our lord!"

Another man, face obscured by the shadows in the corner, spoke for the first time. "Why now? After all these years?"

Everyone gave it a thought but the problem was, no one knew. Lucius gave a thin smile.

"Regardless of her reasons, we got comfortable." No one argued.

"I say we send someone." Nott Sr. said. "End her… it."

Lucius' expression didn't change. "On school grounds? With Dumbledore watching? Not the best strategy."

"We can't just do nothing!"

"I'm not suggesting that." Lucius answered. He tapped the letter. "I'm suggesting we make her someone else's problem."

"How?"

Lucius walked slowly towards the table, pulling a chair for himself as if this were a leisurely game of chess. "She is strong, yes, dangerous. But she is inexperienced if she can't catch Gibbon. She is close to Harry Potter if my son is right. Very close. She might be biding her time with him if she was indeed in contact with Bellatrix somehow."

"If she were to… lash out, lose control, she would frighten the wrong crowd, publicly maybe, it would be reason enough to arrange her removal with the board. When she is out of Hogwarts we can handle her."

Yaxley leaned forward. "You want to bait her somehow."

"Yes, we use her to remove the boy-who-lived as well. It is the perfect plan."

A silence fell again.

Then one voice muttered. "But to be able to do that in Hogwarts, you would need to be there."

"Do I need to remind you gentlemen that we have people inside of Hogwarts already?"

"My wife wants our son pulled from Hogwarts, says we can write to Drumstrang. This is very dangerous, Lucius. You have seen the corpses she left behind already."

"She is not the only one." Another muttered. "Half the house is talking about it."

McNair slammed a first on the table. "We survived the Dark Lord only to be picked off by a child."

Lucius met his gaze. "That child may not be acting alone, someone trained her and if we are not careful, she'll finish what she started. We need to use what we can."

"Would you use your own son for this, Lucius?" snapped Yaxley standing up.

Lucius was almost ready to brandish his wand and curse the man when his wife stood abruptly and glared at Corban. This paused the angry man in his tracks and he sat down again.

The blonde calmed himself down and breathed out. "We need time and subtlety, if she's provoked, she will show her true face. We just need to make sure none of ours is in real danger."

Lucius smiled without warmth. "And then, even Dumbledore will have no choice."​

---

The Slytherin common room was quieter these days. It was not silent by any means, but the usual gloating, sneering confidence had faded. Even Crabbe and Goyle had stopped laughing quite so loudly.

Draco pretended everything was fine, he had more important things to think about, like winning the House Cup, getting top marks in Potions, making his father's name proud. He was especially worried about mudbloods showing more talent. He was fine with Volant being top of his year, she was a pureblood witch after all, and Ravenclaws were usually ahead academically.

She was an anomaly, something unusual, he should be able to best everyone else, but that was not how it turned out at all. Slytherin was not able to catch up with Ravenclaw at all, it was as if everyone in their house was a genius. The blonde girl rarely spoke and she was still gaining points as if she was stealing candy from a baby, he was sure the rest of her housemates were being tutored by her, there was no other explanation in his head.

He would ask her about it if only she wouldn't have unnerved him so much. She never laughed, and when she looked at someone, it felt like she was measuring them, not as a person, but as a problem to solve. Because she was so unapproachable he began taunting her, mocking her family, it's what he knew what to do when things didn't go his way. A Malfoy would never back down.

But that didn't give him any results either, she would just not take the bait and show no emotions.

He cleared his head, trying to avoid thinking too much about it. He needed to focus to be able to come home for Christmas with good news to his father. He didn't feel particularly proud of complaining to him all the time.

Draco ascended the stairs to the Great Hall ready to have breakfast and start his day with renewed purpose. As he sat down, owls started flying in, it was post day and sure enough he had a letter from home.

The green-edged parchment folded sharply, written in elegant black ink with the Malfoy Crest printed proudly. The letter said many things, updates about Ministry issues, pureblood circle gossip, tips for impressing Professor Snape and reminders about keeping the Malfoy name out of trouble. But near the end a line stood out bolded and with clear intent of making it the last word.

Avoid contact with Volant AT ALL COSTS.
Stay polite, distant, do not ask questions. Stay safe.

Draco read it three times. It was a clear warning and he could feel all of his father's seriousness on it.

That evening, as he passed Volant near the dungeon stairs as she was going to Potions class, he didn't scoff or mutter anything. He didn't look at her metal arms or make a joke under his breath, he just walked past her. Quietly and quickly.

She gave no signs of even stopping to glance at him but as he was moving away, he felt the her cold stare on his back.​

---

It all started small, a pause in the corridor when she walked past, a conversation that died mid-sentence as soon as she stepped into earshot. Students whispering just a little too loud, just enough to be heard.

Harry noticed it before breakfast one morning, even though it was December and some students were cheering for the festivals that were fast approaching, Slytherin older students were not showing up at the Great Hall. Whenever he was walking to classes or going to the library with Lynne they would disappear from sight.

One day, when they passed a group of sixth years by the courtyard stairs, they turned sharply, and avoided them specifically. The rumor mill was not catching up to anything major recently, so he was confused as to what happened.

Until Harry caught a single word coming from another group one time. "Volant." That group shifted course instantly, avoiding her like she was contagious. He glanced at Lynne but she didn't slow down her pace, didn't look back, her eyes straight ahead, unchanged.

What is going on Lynne?

He saw a flicker of tension in her jaw, the way her fingers flexed just once at her side before going still again.

I cannot say I'm sure I know. She answered in his head.

They kept walking, Harry's mind now far away from the potions class they were heading to. He managed to complete his work without making a mess or causing professor Snape to berate him. After classes they ran into Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini, but before they could even interact they moved away, this time not even bothering to say anything to Lynne. If he was being honest, a reserved Draco was even more unnerving.

The library was quieter than usual, most students were already drifting into holiday mode, their essays half-finished, their minds full of snowball fights and hot chocolate. But Harry and Harmione were still at their corner table, parchment spread between stacks of transfiguration books. Lynne by their side said nothing while she watched them work. She had already finished what they were doing at that moment.

Hermione scribbled furiously, lips moving as she quoted from memory. Harry, beside her, was frowning at his notes like they were written in Mermish.

"You need to reference Gamp's fifth Law." she said without looking up.

"I don't remember the first four to be honest." Harry muttered.

Lynne took a second to look for the book on her satchel. She handed him the correct book which he took gratefully.

"Be right back, I'm going to the loo."

Gracefully she left quickly leaving behind her things neatly organized. After a few minutes Harry turned to face Hermione with worry.

"Have you seen how Slytherin's people are acting around Lynne?" he asked.

Hermione considered it for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… older students, they are avoiding her like they are afraid of her, as if she has the plague or something."

Hermione frowned and tapped her quill against her lip, thinking.

"Maybe it's after what happened with those Ravenclaw boys."

"They deserved it." Harry replied instinctively, before he could stop himself.

Hermione froze, her lips pursed. Harry knew that she didn't approve of the way Lynne had handled it, he felt she was still a bit naive to how bullies work, sometimes other people only understood violence and nothing else would get into their thick skulls. After a pause, Hermione composed herself.

"It doesn't matter if they did, it wouldn't surprise me if rumors were spreading."

Before Harry could answer, a soft click of footsteps made them look up. Lynne had come back, silent as usual. She picked up her book and a loose sheet of notes and sat down without a word, pulling her chair in smoothly, mechanical fingers adjusting her quill with practiced ease.

She nodded at them and Harry hesitated, then grinned.

"Any chance you know how to turn a quill into something useful? Writing with a pen would be way better."

"I don't know what a pen is but…"

She glanced at him, then at the quill in his hand. With a smirk and a slight flick of her wrist her wand was pulled upwards from out of nowhere. Following a quiet incantation the feather shimmered, folding and shrinking until it became a tiny paper cat, almost like an origami, curling on top of his ink pot as if it was a comfortable bed.

Hermione and Harry gasped.

"It will sadly not write things for you." she said giggling.

"That's not in any of the standard texts, what's the incantation?" Said Hermione.

Of course she was focused on the spell and learning, thought Harry.

Lynne gave a small shrug. "It's a transfiguration anchored to visual memory. Intent based."

Harry nudged the cat with his finger. "Looks pretty hard to me."

She tilted her head, then reached for Hermione's quill.

"Hey, wait, I need-" Hermione started but stopped as Lynne again spelled the object.

This time, the feather turned into a paper fox, perfectly curled with its tail wrapped around its paws. The paper shimmered in the candlelight.

Hermione stared. "Okay… I need you to teach me that, immediately."

Lynne laughed, barely, but it was there. Thinking how rare those were, Harry decided to forget about the odd behaviour of the Slytherins for now.

The three of them worked late, books spread across the table like a makeshift fortress. Occasionally, Lynne would correct Harry's essays without saying a word, or help Hermione with her wand grip with subtle guidance. They didn't talk about the whispers or the stares, for the moment it didn't matter.

Hermione laughed once when her fox charm tripped over Harry's cat, an unguarded and genuine laugh that made the moment one of Harry's best memories. Harry grinned, proud of his little paper monstrosity. Even Lynne let herself lean back in her chair, a faint curve at the corner of her lips.

The lamps in the library burned low, snow tapped gently against the high windows and for a while, it felt like they were just three students doing homework as if nothing outside that table could touch them.

Lynne didn't say much as they packed up, but when Harry brushed her shoulder on the way out, and Hermione looped her scarf and smiled back at them both, she paused.

I will protect you both. He heard her voice clear in his mind as the pocket watch hummed.

Harry didn't know why she had such determination or why she was thinking about that specifically, maybe the troll had affected her more than what she let on.

I will protect you too!

He answered while she catched up to them. She smiled at him and shook her head.​

 

[Lucernello]

I hope you are enjoying the story so far.

-Luce

---

Chapter 5 - Glitch

Snow had fallen steadily for days, softening the grounds in thick white drifts that reached the knees of passing house-elves. The air smelled of pine and cinnamon, and the usual hum of spell work in the halls had given way to the quieter magic of warmth, charmed scarves, pockets full of sugared nuts, and candles that never flickered out.

Hogwarts celebrated Christmas in its own strange, ancient way. The suits of armor sang carols, badly but they tried their best, echoing off the high arches of the staircases. The portraits wore sprigs of holly and mulled over their favorite holiday memories aloud to anyone who passed. And everywhere, there was light: soft, enchanted, never too bright, glowing like it had been there waiting all year for this season.

The Great Hall had been dressed in its finest silks. Twelve towering Christmas trees lined the walls, each decorated in its own theme, one with fluttering faerie lights, one with enchanted snowflakes that never melted, another with golden candles and miniature broomsticks that circled the topmost branches. The ceiling had been bewitched to show soft snowfall, drifting gently downward but never reaching the floor.

Harry had never seen anything like it. He stood for a long time just staring at the great tree in the middle of the great hall, green and gold filled with shimmering glass ornaments that floated an inch above the branches.

There had been Christmases at the Dursleys, technically. Plastic trees dragged from the attic. Cold ham and fake cheer. An extra pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks wrapped in newspaper. He had been trapped in the small closet under the stairs most of the time.

But he had never even heard of something like this. Nothing that made the air feel warm even when the stone floors were freezing. Nothing that made him feel like he was allowed to enjoy it. This Christmas was the first that felt like his, and he was even spending it with Lynne who had decided to stay with him for the holidays. He try asking if her guardian would miss her but she had dismissed him about it.

The day before the holiday, Hermione had said goodbye at the gates, bundled in layers and already holding a stack of books for the train ride.

"You'll be fine without me," she told Harry, adjusting his scarf like a mother hen. "Don't forget to revise Transfiguration. And please, for the love of god, don't let Lynne talk you into being a punch bag for spells again."

"Which god?" asked Lynne confused.

Harry had laughed. She had watched the exchange from a few paces behind, silent as usual, but when Hermione pulled her into a quick hug, she didn't pull away.

"Try not to hex anyone." Hermione added with a small smile.

"I will consider it." Lynne replied, deadpan.

On Christmas morning, the Ravenclaw common room was still and the blue-sky decorations were shining more than usual. The windows were glazed with frost, and the enchanted fire cast slow-moving shadows across the floor. Most students had gone home, leaving the space emptier than usual. It was peaceful, in a way Harry found comforting.

A few gifts had appeared overnight at the foot of one of the armchairs by the fire. Hagrid had given him a box of treats for Hedwig. Hermione had given him a book about transfiguration theory. And a few things from his other housemates he barely knew, candy mostly, he felt bad that he didn't send them similar gifts.

He had opened almost everything, saving one small and one big package that he knew at first glance would be interesting for last.

The smaller one was wrapped neatly in dark grey paper, tied with a single blue string. A stag crest pin hooked into the wrapping. A small tag dangled from the gift and he recognized Lynne's handwriting instantly.

Lynne sat by the window, as always. Dressed and reading, one knee tucked up against her chest. Her metal fingers turned the page with delicate precision. She hadn't said a word.

Harry picked up the package and opened it carefully. Inside was a leather holster, slim, black, clearly handmade. It was stitched along the sides with rune-embossed thread, he blinked, mouth half-open.

"This is…"

"Fitted to your wand." Lynne said without looking up. "Won't drop it, even if you fall. Enchanted for quick draw. It's designed to be worn against the forearm, under your sleeve."

He turned it over in his hands. Underneath the flap he recognized one of the runes burned into the leather: Protection.

"I... didn't get you anything," he admitted guiltily.

"You don't need to get me anything." she said. "Being your friend is enough."

Harry smiled, quiet and honest. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Lynne nodded once. Then turned a page in her book. He slid the holster onto his arm. It truly did fit perfectly. He asked her to approach him by the fire and he gave her a hug. For a little while, they sat in silence as the fire crackled beside them. It was the warmest Christmas he had ever had. It felt like something real at last.

Finally he remembered the big package that was left and opened it. He leaned over and picked it up. It was silvery, smooth to the touch, and lighter than air. When he held it up, it fluttered in his hands like mist, then slipped through his fingers almost invisibly.

Folded within it was a small piece of parchment.

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

Harry read it trying to find a name or a clue as to who sent it but there was nothing more.

His heart thudded quietly in his chest. Something about the handwriting felt... old. The parchment felt personal, like it had waited years just to reach him. He draped the cloak over his shoulders and with a thrill that almost made him laugh, saw his body vanish beneath it.

A real invisibility cloak, his first real link to his father. Something entirely his.

"That is amazing." said Lynne.

"It was my father's, apparently." He smiled fondly.

"This is quite helpful, keep it safe and with you Harry." she sighed then looked at him with frustration.

"Should have bought you a pouch with an extension charm, that way you could easily carry it around without anyone noticing."

"Cannot I get them myself?"

"You could, yes… you have to order through your owl probably, but it should be possible. I will help you with that later then." she said, nodding to herself.

After testing it a bit in the common room, Harry and Lynne left it in his trunk and went down to the Great Hall for meals.
​

---

The halls were quiet that evening, lit only by the occasional enchanted torch and the twinkling fairy lights strung along the walls for the holidays. The few students who had stayed behind were likely asleep or maybe enjoying the fireplaces and pudding in the common rooms.

He pulled the cloak from his trunk, slipped it over his shoulders and grinned at the way it shimmered and disappeared. Moving carefully and quietly, he slipped out into the corridor.

He didn't really have a destination, just curiosity. The castle felt different at night, it gave a strange feeling of old and mysterious. More secretive, he felt like he was in an adventure wondering about.

He was rounding the corner toward the long second-floor corridor when he stopped short, his foot catching slightly on the stone. Someone was already there.

Lynne.

She stood motionless near an old suit of armor, one hand braced on the wall, metal fingers reflecting the torchling. Her other arm was holding her wand close to her chest, she didn't cast anything but she was opening and closing her mouth, almost like she was chanting.

Harry froze when she stopped all of a sudden. He briefly wondered if she had heard him somehow but before he could move, she turned to her side, looking directly at the spot where he stood.

"I know you are there, Harry." Her voice was quiet.

Harry flinched, heart racing as if discovered by a professor or prefect. Slowly he pulled off the cloak from his head.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." he whispered.

"You didn't, but if you want to sneak on someone, you should muffle your steps and your breathing was too loud as well."

Her eyes flicked to the cloak. "It is a quite powerful item, the one you have. I couldn't detect your magic at all."

Harry approached her slowly. "How do you detect someone's magic?"

"It's not something I can explain, I wish my mentor could teach you."

"What are you doing here by the way?"

"There is something behind this wall, I just don't know what or which room leads there."

Harry gave a soft look at the wall, there was no door there.

"So you are here out of curiosity? No prefect caught you yet?"

"Well most prefects have gone home, some professors do patrol but I usually can sense them before they are near."

They stood together in silence for a moment before she finally motioned him to walk with her. They explore the castle a bit before heading back to the common room, his cloak on his shoulders just in case.

Later that night Harry couldn't sleep, he felt weird, that this amount of good was not something he deserved and that somehow it would come back to bite him, or that he would wake up from a dream.

He came around the same corridor, his curiosity got the better of him. He now saw that there was indeed a door where the wall was and it was already slightly ajar. He approached carefully.

The room was cold and covered in dust. A tall mirror stood in the corner of the room, but nothing else. Its frame was golden and gilded with inscriptions. He saw no one inside so he didn't know why the door was unlocked. Approaching cautiously to the mirror, Harry saw that it was not only reflecting, something was moving inside of it.

Curiosity getting the better of him and feeling a tug towards it, he stepped in front of it only to be welcomed by the sight of two adults, maybe a couple holding hands appearing behind his reflection. He turned but found no one behind him. He could see them now, neatly, and he could recognize himself in some of their features. They smiled at him warmly and his heart ached.

"Mum?" he asked looking at the woman that in turn replied with a bigger smile and a nod.

Harry felt calm and warm, he couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his parents for the first time.

"Dad?" and the man nodded as well, both smiling at him proudly.

He didn't know what to say, but he also didn't want to leave them, he placed a hand in the mirror wanting to go through it, to wherever they were and felt the cold of the glass. His mum looked concerned for a moment but slowly placed a hand on his shoulder in the mirror and smiled again.

Harry stood there, he didn't know for how long, his parents communicating to him by waving. He left later on, it was quite late but he wanted to find Lynne and show it to her. He wanted his friend to see his parents, but finding her proved to be more difficult. He had to move with the cloak so as not to be seen and he heard the caretaker Filch shouting at someone when he was approaching the library, so he steered clear from there in the end.

Giving up and quite sleepy from walking around, he returned to the room only to find the door now closed. He pushed it slowly, peeking inside with his cloak still on. There, in front of the mirror was Lynne now, absorbed by whatever she was seeing, a frowning and confused look on his face.

"You found it as well!" he blurted out and all of a sudden he was pushed to the ground by an invisible force.

"Ugh!"

"Harry! I'm so sorry. You startled me." she said almost in his ears and that's when he realized that she hadn't used a spell, she had somehow in a flash tackled him.

Removing the cloak, he felt pain in his butt from the fall and somewhere in his chest where she had pushed. She extended her arm to him with a worried look.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry." he said, taking her cold hand to help him up.

He was going to say something else when he remembered where they were.

"Oh you saw the mirror, did you see my parents?"

"Your parents, Harry?"

"Yes, yes!" Skipping the small distance and not letting go of her hand, Harry moved in front of the mirror.

"There they are." He smiled at her but she was not really smiling.

"Harry, I see more than two people, how many do you see?"

"What… I only see my parents. I asked them…" He looked at the mirror confused.

"I think it's not showing the same thing for both of us, in the inscription it says it's the mirror of desire, although for some reason the last word is backwards. I'm guessing it is cursed to enter our minds and show us what we want the most."

"Then… it's not real…?"

"Well, your parents cannot come back to life, Harry. I'm sorry."

"I know that… I just thought it was something they left behind." he replied saddened.

After a few moments in silence he spoke again.

"So you see your family as well?"

"I have no clue as to who they are. But I have no family, Harry. I was not born… I thought you would have figured it out already, I was created." She paused, thinking aloud. "And I have met my maker, he is not among them."

"To be honest… I didn't want to pry for what you are, I just think you are my best friend regardless of what you are and that's all I need to know."

She smiled brightly at him.

"You are very noble, Harry."

He felt his cheek warm and he thought of a way to lead the conversation elsewhere.

"You really have no idea who you see? Do they look like you?"

She stared at the mirror once more.

"I don't have even a hint at who they are, they dress weirdly, they look nothing like me and they have all sad looks in their eyes."

"There is a little kid like me, who must be around 9 to 10 years old that was hugged by all of them but now she is staring at me, the only one smiling out of all of them."

She kept staring at the mirror without moving.

"My chest aches and my body seems to remember them but I don't really know the reason, it unsettles me. I never needed a family nor did I ever want one, but this one is staring at me as if I am the only thing missing."

She sighed heavily and Harry didn't have a response exactly to that.

"The longer I stare, the less I know if this desire is mine or not."

"We should just leave this mirror behind, Harry. Enchanted objects are unhealthy more times than not."

Harry didn't want to leave though, it was the first time he saw his parents, and they seemed happy to see them, but seeing Lynne's distraught face was enough to consider letting the mirror be for now.

"Can we share your cloak Harry? I encountered Filch and had to make a run for it, the invisibility would come really handy."

Harry wanted to smack his head for not thinking about that, always thought that Lynne would be able to sneak up on anyone anyway.

"Of course!"

The castle was colder than usual as they crept through its stone corridors, the silence broken only by the faint scuff of his shoes against the metal prosthetics of his friend, and the soft whisper of fabric as Harry adjusted the cloak around them.

It was not a tight fit but for some reason, they were having issues while walking normally. If he had been taller he was sure they wouldn't be having a problem.

"It hurts to bump into you." joked harry in a whisper.

"You are slow." she replied, deadpan.

He tried not to laugh too loud, especially when she accidentally jabbed him in the ribs with her sharp elbows.

"Sorry." she said, although it didn't sound she meant it.

They turned a corner, hugging the wall as Flich's distant muttering echoed from another corridor. Harry held his breath and Lynne didn't move a muscle, he wondered if she was even breathing. Her control was unnerving and impressive at the same time. When it was safe again, she nudge him forward.

"Left foot first." she whispered.

"What?"

"You keep bumping into my legs and shoes."

He briefly remembered his short trip to London once where he saw the Queen's guard march and mumbled something about her surely being the tiniest guard if she tried. His mind picturing a Lynne dress in red attire with the black bonnet they use.

By the time they reached the Ravenclaw Tower, Harry was flushed and grinning. Lynne's hair was looking funny because of the static generated by friction between the cloak and her. She looked mildly annoyed at that but said nothing as they stepped into the common room.

"Would you be able to sleep now?"

"I don't know… I think so?"

"If you make yourself comfortable I can keep you company here until you fall asleep."

He never slept with anyone before so he agreed just to try something new, besides he felt he learnt something new about Lynne and that made him happy. Harry dropped the cloak onto one of the chairs by the fireplaces and sat down on the comfy couch. Lynne followed sitting on the edge of the armrest with quiet grace, her arms folding over one of her knees while her other leg was extended to support her.

He looked at her, eyes still bright, amused by her hairs.

"Thanks for not hexing me the third time I bumped into you."

"I considered it."

He laughed and he saw her relax finally, a soft genuine smile on her face. He was used to the faint flicker she gave Hermione or Professors in passing, but an amused and real smile that made the firelight shimmer softly against her pale face was rare.

For a little while, they said nothing more while the castle slept. He yawned as tiredness took hold of him and he closed his eyes, feeling the company of his friend close by.
​

---

Alastor Moody was panting heavily, he was in a cold, dark cellar, it reeked of mildew and something metallic. He was chained to a battered wooden chair, arms tightly bound, his wand nowhere to be seen. A single, sputtering candle cast ghostly shadows against the grimy stone walls.

Despite the bruises and cuts, Moody's one visible eye glowed defiantly; the other, enchanted, spun wildly in its socket, searching tirelessly for weaknesses.

His captors had first kept him hidden for some time, clearly waiting for someone to come for him, they were clearly disappointed. They had moved to torture and interrogation. The last round of questions had ended in pain, but for them as much as for him. Moody's lips twisted into a savage grin as the door rattled open again.

"Still nothing, old man?" growled Walden McNair, stepping inside. "All we need is a name. The girl. Who sent her after us?"

Moody spat blood at McNair's feet. "You lot are losing your touch."

McNair lunged forward in fury, raising his wand but Moody was quicker. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, breaking the weakened chair legs beneath him. In one swift, brutal motion, he slammed McNair's face into the wall, grabbing his wand hand and twisting it violently until the wand clattered to the floor.

McNair screamed, but Moody wasn't listening. He snatched up the wand, and with practiced ease, the chains fell away, clanging loudly on the stone floor.

"Consider this your first and last lesson, McNair. Never get within arm's reach. Stupify."

The Death eaters and snatchers that were here as a trap were not expecting an attack from within, disorganized chaos filled their ranks as communication was not something they practiced. They were not sure what was happening until a few of Moody's spells connected.

He was currently trapped in a pureblood house, he was not exactly sure whose but he took mental note of everything he saw. If he ever returned to raid some of these places he would know who was responsible for this and make them pay.

Screams and spells were traded, even among their own as Moody moved with as much speed as his limbs allowed him, he missed his cane already.

He watched amused as the wards fell as some of the Death eaters thought it was wise to make their escape instead of fighting him.

Moments later, a loud crack echoed through the compound as Moody Disapparated, leaving behind only his broken captors and a spreading puddle of blood.
​

---

Lucius Malfoy stood in his study, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the gardens bathed in moonlight. The quiet was broken when a hurried knock at the door shattered his contemplation.

"Come in."

A young man, pale-faced and breathless, stepped into the room.

"Malfoy… Moody has escaped."

Lucius's jaw tightened visibly, but his voice remained coldly composed. "Escaped? How?"

"McNair underestimated him. Moody broke free and took his wand. He's injured badly. He said Moody left no trace to follow."

"And the girl?" Lucius asked sharply. "Did she make any move to help Moody? Did she show herself?"

"No." the Death Eater admitted. "She didn't come, but we knew that already, which is why we were interrogating him."

"Did we learn anything?"

"He had nothing on his possessions that he could use to communicate with anyone, and no one made contact with him. He obviously didn't talk."

Lucius's grip tightened on the edge of his desk, his knuckles whitening. "Then they were never allies. We wasted valuable resources on this gamble."

"Yes, sir," said the Death Eater quietly. "But there is... another matter. We fear the girl may be connected to the Lestranges then if the auror held no connection."

Lucius turned sharply, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus are rotting in Azkaban. I know some of you are paranoid but I find it hard to believe that they found a way to communicate with her."

"Not directly, but what about a contingency plan? To have someone raise them to continue in the future?" the Death Eater interrupted cautiously, flinching slightly under Lucius's cold glare. "And they might want revenge, punishment for our cowardice claiming Imperius."

Lucius's eyes darkened as he considered the implications. "Bellatrix was a loyal fanatic, and a mad woman. I'm not sure if she was sound of mind enough to do this though."

"Sir. The more extreme one sees us as traitors, it wouldn't surprise me at least.."

Lucius moved to the fireplace, staring into the flames. His fingers drummed impatiently on the marble mantelpiece. "This girl is becoming more than an inconvenience. We cannot afford another misstep."

The Death Eater waited nervously, watching the subtle tension ripple across Lucius's features.

"We will watch the girl closely, but discreetly for now, our second plan will come into motion soon. Be sure to remain under wards just in case." Lucius said at last. "If she's working with the Lestranges or their sympathizers... we'll have bigger problems than Moody."

"Yes, sir." With a quick bow, the young Death Eater hurried away.

Alone again, Lucius stared into the fire, his expression grim. He was not sure who would do such a thing anymore but the Malfoy family would beat all odds.
​

---

The cold of the forgotten classroom clung to the air like mist. Harry sat motionless in front of the Mirror of Erised, his breath fogging faintly as he stared into the reflection.

His parents smiled back at him. Their hands rested on his shoulders. They looked solid and warm but at the same time felt impossible. They didn't speak but they looked at him as if they had always been watching.

He had come back to see them again. Just once more.

"Back again, Harry?"

The voice cut through the stillness like a soft knock on a closed door. Harry startled, turning to find Dumbledore standing behind him, robes trailing the floor, his hands clasped in front of him, as if by command the candles lit giving the room a warmer feeling.

"Sorry, Professor, I didn't see you." Harry said.

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible." he said amused.

Dumbledore offered a small smile and stepped forward, his gaze flicking to the mirror.

"I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I expect by now you realize what it does."

Harry looked down. "It shows me my parents."

"I would expect nothing less," Dumbledore said gently. "To one who has never known family, it is an image more powerful than any spell."

"I'll give you a clue, Harry. The happiest man on earth would look into the Mirror and see only himself, exactly as he is."

He moved to stand beside Harry. For a moment, they both faced the mirror, though Dumbledore did not look into it.

"So then, it shows us what we want... whatever we want…"

"Yes and no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them gathered around you." he said. "Sometimes that desire is simple. Sometimes... it is not even our own."

Harry hesitated. "Sir, Lynne also saw a family, but she wasn't happy as I was, she was just confused, what does that mean? "

Dumbledore gave no sign of surprise. He remained very still, the candlelight playing across his glasses.

"I cannot say for certain why Lynne sees a family strange to her but there must be a reason. Why don't you ask her? She seems quite sharp and honest all the time."

"She stared into it for a long time," Harry continued. "She didn't say anything. But... something was wrong. I could see it in her eyes. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable, she is my friend."

Dumbledore gave him a faint smile. "You care about her."

"I just want to understand how to help." Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"And that, Harry, is often more powerful than any spell in this castle. There are truths people must find on their own though. I would advise patience, for her to come to terms with whatever she saw."

He began to move away, but paused beside the mirror.

"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow. I ask that you do not go looking for it again, Harry. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Harry nodded, but his eyes lingered on the reflection.

"Sir," he asked suddenly, "What do you see in the mirror?"

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, his eyes twinkling faintly.

"I see myself holding a pair of thick woollen socks. One can never have enough socks."

Harry blinked. "Socks?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, already at the door. "Christmas socks, specifically. Warm and without holes."

He gave the mirror a last look, then at Harry, but he was no longer staring into it. He was thinking about Lynne, the strange quiet stillness in her face that night, as if she were seeing something not longed for, but misplaced. Something that shouldn't be there. Dumbledore stepped into the hallway, guiding him out of the room.
​

---

Quirinus Quirrell moved quickly through the lower halls, robes brushing stone with a whisper. His hands shook as he tightened the clasps on his sleeves, but he kept his head down. His steps didn't echo. He liked it that way.

He was being followed. Not constantly, not obviously, but often enough to unravel him. She never spoke, never confronted. Just appeared in places she had no reason to be, too close to the Defense classroom, too near the staff quarters, once even outside the library at midnight, silent as snow. For some reason, these days she was always watching, waiting for him it seemed.

The girl most gifted in her year, even more than the Boy-who-lived. She unsettled the students, as well, he was not the only one feeling this way. But Quirrell had begun to believe she saw more than she should. Perhaps even… sensed what lived beneath his skin.

"You are afraid of her." the voice whispered from the back of his skull.

Quirrell winced, biting down panic. "She is dangerous," he murmured aloud, quiet enough not to carry.

Lynne terrified him. Not because she was loud or reckless, but because she wasn't. She was too still. Too quiet. There was no hatred in her eyes, no suspicion. Just calculation. In his eyes, it was worse than anger.

She could see the threads unraveling. Maybe not consciously, but she knew. And worst of all, he couldn't read her. Students in general were easy to discern, to know how they feel, they would usually wear their feelings on their faces. The girl on the other hand was like a locked box, there was nothing to see.

Or she could be exactly what she appeared to be a student with metal arms and a mind that moved like a knife.

He didn't know, and although he could rationalize that due to his current condition he might be paranoid, there were too many coincidental meetings.

And it made him sick.

"She is a child."

"She moves like a ghost. She sees things others miss. She doesn't sleep. She has no fear."

"Then remove her."

Quirrell's jaw clenched. "We still don't know how to get past that fool's creature, master."

"You are weak."

"You need me." he whispered. "If you kill her now, Dumbledore will intervene. He watches her too."

His vision swam for a moment. He leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly.

Quirinus had been a curious man, a scholar. Not brave or foolish, just drawn to knowledge that most dared not touch. He had wanted to understand the Dark Arts after studying muggles closely, he understood he needed to stop their threat from spreading to the wizarding world.

He had told himself that he wanted to protect, he didn't want to harm anyone but on his journey he realized that the threat was even bigger than what he initially thought. The muggles were spreading like cancer on the world, it was only a matter of time when they would be discovered, and then he was sure they would perish.

There was no way to win against the sheer number and scale of the technological advancement that they possessed. In his mind, they needed the greater evil, someone as powerful as Dumbledore but not as benevolent.

When he first met Voldemort, following the whispers of a great evil spreading through the forests of Albania, he had thought himself strong enough to bargain, to learn. He thought he could gain power and return to Hogwarts, not as a stuttering, overlooked academic, but as something respected, where he could teach young students to prepare for the muggle threat.

At first, he told himself it would be temporary. A year, perhaps less. Long enough to help his master regain strength, find the stone they discovered that was in Dumbledore's possession and then collect his freedom, reward and recognition. He would be remembered as the one responsible for saving wizard kind.

Instead, he became the doorway. The price of knowledge had been his body, his sleep, his health and the loss of his free will. His mind had been carved open, inch by inch and now his thoughts weren't always his own, now he woke with memories he hadn't lived. Some were quite unpleasant, he wasn't gaining any knowledge either.

Weeks passed, then months and the magic that tethered the thing in the back of his head to his own flesh grew tighter. The headaches grew worse and his limbs stiffened in the morning, the stammer he had once faked now came without effort.

He was dying, and had begun to wake in cold sweats, unable to feel his fingers. His body had grown colder these past weeks. His fingers sometimes refused to move properly. When he looked in the mirror, he could no longer see the color in his face. The food tasted like ash. Even the warmth of the castle fires didn't seem to reach his skin anymore, and Lord Voldemort knew, of course he knew.

The parasite was eating him alive.

Lately, he couldn't tell when the trembling in his hands was fear or possession. Still, he endured. Still, he obeyed. A fear of death was fueling his actions now, but he never particularly had this fear before, if he weren't so far gone, he would have known that fear was not his own.

The voice didn't respond immediately. Then, after a long moment, it hissed.

"You need to find a solution soon. You are dying, your body won't hold much longer. Do not fail me now!"

Quirrell had spent three nights pacing the forest's edge, studying the layout and searching for a workaround. He needed to find something, a spell, a substitute, anything to stop his body from decaying further, but there was not a workaround that would see him alive in the end.

His master had suggested unicorn blood, but he remembered what it meant, everyone did. Even the darkest of books whispered of its price, too high for anyone to even consider it.

Feeling of anxiety and dread filled his head, if he didn't find a solution soon he would have to curse himself, to live a half-life, a damned life even if it saved his soul from leaving his body.

Quirrell pressed his fingers to his temple, trembling. Down the corridor, the candles flickered slightly. His hand had begun to tremble again, the rot was spreading and he was going to add more garlic to hide the odor. He didn't want to die but he didn't want this either.
​

---

The first week of January passed in a quiet blur. Hermione returned from her holiday in high spirits, bundled in a new winter cloak and already muttering about her trip to France to anyone who would listen. She realized that Lynne would often listen even if her face showed no emotion, so she would endlessly talk in front of her, by now Harry knew everything that happened in her trip.

Snow still blanked the castle grounds, and the warmth of the holidays had passed, replaced by the steady rhythm of lessons, hallways and homework. Normalcy, or at least as normal as Hogwarts ever was for him.

"Indica locus." he whispered, wand out.

The blue lights lit a path, shimmering and waving through the castle directing him to his next class. Lately, he didn't even need the spell to guide him where he needed to go, his memory was good enough to by now memorize the general layout of the castle, but he still practiced the spell.

He arrived alone to Charms class, as Lynne was disappearing more frequently every now and then, she was still having perfect attendance somehow, but he was missing her at times.

After class he caught up with her quickly in case she went somewhere else.

"I couldn't find you anywhere, Lynne, where do you go these days?"

"I'm just letting someone know they are being watched in case they decide to do something stupid."

That sounded ominous enough to not ask many questions, Harry wondered if she was being bullied again, his friend didn't seem to let her friends get involved in her fights. Still he had things to say so he let it go for now anyway.

"We caught up with Hagrid a bit with Hermione, I wanted you to be there but I couldn't find you."

"You could have let me know with your watch, Harry."

"Oh. You are right, I didn't think of it."

She chuckled and did a small motion for him to continue.

"We think we figured out what's being hidden on the third floor, it's some kind of artifact related to someone Hagrid mentioned without meaning to."

He paused. "Do you know who Nicholas Flamel is?"

Lynne didn't look surprised. "Yes."

Harry frowned. "Wait, you know who that is already?"

"Of course. Nicholas Flamel is an alchemist, born in the 14th Century, creator of the Philosopher's Stone which has granted him with almost eternal life. He is almost 700 years old now." she replied.

Harry blinked surprised. "Is that real?"

"Very real. The stone grants immortality through the Elixir of Life. It also produces unlimited gold but it was never its intended design."

Harry let that sink in.

"So that's what the Cerberus is guarding." he said, quietly amazed. "The stone is here, at Hogwarts."

"Which is weird, it was safe with the Flamel's. Unless Dumbledore is doing experiments with the stone it makes little sense."

"Someone wants it, otherwise they wouldn't guard it at all. But who?"

Lynne nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't think it's a student, Death Eaters still exist, they might want it for their Lord. Hagrid told you he believed he wasn't truly gone, others might believe that as well."

"But they cannot enter the school, right?" he asked hopeful.

"What about a professor?"

"Wha-? Who?" He looked thoughtful, his first suspect was Snape with how snappy and upset he was all the time.

"I have my doubts, I don't know yet, but I'm suspicious of one already. They've been quiet and patient so far, but the troll incident was weird enough."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He thought that if it was a professor, the threat was bigger than what he initially accounted for. He felt that the other staff members didn't take it at all seriously enough, probably because most people thought Voldemort was gone.

They started walking back toward the stairwell, snow falling softly outside the windows.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Harry asked after a moment.

She glanced at him "Because sometimes knowing too much only makes the danger come faster, I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Harry."

He didn't reply but stayed at her side wondering. "I don't want anything to happen to you either."

She sighed. "We can probably get more information about the protections of the stone from Hagrid."

"I will find Hermione and we can go later, she wanted to know as well."

With a new plan in motion, they moved on to the next class for the day.​

 

[Lucernello]

I'm going to start adding motivational paragraphs on my posts to give myself a bit of motivation, but if it helps anyone reading, I'll be happy as well.

You got this! Remember all things are temporary, so you will get out of whatever you are going through eventually, just hang in there, better times will come soon, being consistent and doing a little everyday will make a difference. Keep writing that paragraph you left untouched for a few days, just small phrases every few hours. Keep drawing that sketch you think is not good enough, it might be if you give it more love, remember even if you don't like it, other people might and that could be great. Keep recording your beats, try new things if you are stuck, go make new things and come back, a little bit always helps. If you are feeling overwhelmed remember to put a bit of time into a hobby that will help you empty your head, it will help you attack those mean responsabilities with greater force. Fix that sleep schedule, bringing order will help consistency, I know you can do it, I believe in you.

Anyways, enjoy.
Luce
​

---

Chapter 6 - Directive

The frost still clung to the edges of the castle windows even though the new term had started. The crisp cold seemed to creep through the old stones of Hogwarts, making the common rooms especially inviting with their roaring fires and deep armchairs.

The library was warm though and buzzing with quiet activity when Harry finally joined Hermione at the table they had claimed for their own. She looked up from a thick volume and smiled, her cheeks pink from the cold.

"You have been avoiding me." she said, accusing mockingly.

Involving her might put her in danger, Harry. That had been Lynne's thoughts on letting Hermione know about the stone. He had thought about it for a long time before deciding they would let her know about it just enough to let her in on what's going on but not enough to endanger her, he was afraid that if he didn't speak to her, she would head straight into peril.

"I was just waiting for the right moment, I wanted to convince Lynne to come but she had something important to do. So I was waiting for her in the common room." Harry said.

"Why am I not surprised? Somehow she is not even studying and still miles ahead."

He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. Lynne arrived quietly behind him, carrying two mugs of something steaming. She set one in front of Harry without comment and took a seat herself, folding neatly into the space like a blade slipping into a sheath. She took a book out of her satchel, like she'd always been meant to live between stacks of parchment.

Harry leaned forward. "We need to talk. We spoke earlier, Hermione." Harry said. "About the third floor."

Hermione's brow furrowed immediately. She lowered her voice. "And?" She asked, now clearly focused on the conversation. Harry glanced at Lynne, who simply nodded.

"Lynne already knows about Nicholas Flamel. He is an alchemist and he created what is being kept at the school. The Philosopher's Stone."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly and gasped. She leaned in closer, instinctively shielding their conversation with her arms. "Of course! I knew I had read about it a few weeks back, but I forgot about it because it was just something that I took for a light read."

Hermione chewed her lower lip. "No wonder Dumbledore hid it here…" Harry leaned back, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between them.

"We need more information. If we can find out how it's protected, we might figure out who would be capable of getting through." the girl continued.

"Hagrid might know." Harry said.

"He definitely knows," Hermione replied. "The way he slipped up about Flamel? He can't keep a secret to save his life."

They exchanged a look. Lynne gave the smallest nod.

"I'll handle the questions." Hermione said. "You two just keep him talking… Uhm, do you know who would even try to steal something like that?" she asked Lynne.

"Maybe someone already inside." Lynne said quietly, almost to herself.

Hermione nodded slowly, tapping her finger against the table. "You don't think it's a student. A professor?"

"Maybe."

Hermione straightened, looking thoughtful. They sat in silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them.

"We'll have to be careful." Lynne said. "If someone is watching, asking the wrong questions could speed things up."

Hermione looked determined. "Then we'll do it properly. Bit by bit. No rushing."

The three of them leaned over the table pulling out scrap parchment, quietly beginning to draft a plan. Outside the windows, the snow fell quietly in thick, lazy flakes.

Let's hope we can keep her out of risk. She seems eager to find out about everything.

Harry's pocket watch hummed, Lynne's message clear, he thought so too.
​

---

The morning of the match dawned cold and brilliant. It was Ravenclaw vs Slytherin, no stakes but pride and house points. The sky above the castle was a sharp winter blue, the clouds thin as lace, the ground still dusted with glittering frost.

Still, the energy in the air felt like a festival. Students bundled in cloaks, scarves, and thick gloves poured out of the castle gates in streams of color. Emerald and silver for Slytherin, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw.

Harry pulled his own scarf tighter as he and Lynne made their way down the sloping grounds toward the Quidditch pitch. Snow still lingered around the edges, the scent of cold air, damp earth, but the heavens were clear, and the students buzzed with excitement.

The stadium loomed ahead, towering stands carved from dark wood, draped with house banners that flapped lazily in the breeze. From a distance, the hoops at either end looked like giant brass rings stitched into the sky.

Students were already filling the seats, their breath rising in clouds as they jostled for a better view. Harry had never seen anything like it, he looked up spinning slowly on the spot to take it all in. The flags, eager faces, the glint of broomsticks in the sunlight, hit Harry's excitement up a notch.

He briefly wondered why he had avoided coming in the first place, but he had to admit the training was paying off, today they were free and thus forced to come by their housemates.

They found seats halfway up the stands, and Lynne sat with her hood pulled low, observing silently. Hermione kept a notepad in her lap, for strategic notes, she insisted. She had been pointed at by her housemates for sitting in the Ravenclaw seats, but she didn't seem to care, saying she was here for her friends not the game.

Besides there seemed to be a great animosity from all the other three houses against Slytherin. Apparently they were infamous for foul play. Harry watched every movement like he was memorizing a spell.

"First match?" a voice asked beside him.

Harry turned to see Terry Boot, another first-year Ravenclaw, adjusting his mittens.

"Yeah." Harry admitted, a little embarrassed.

Terry grinned. "It's brilliant. You'll love it. You know the basics?"

Harry shook his head.

"Alright." Terry said, animated. "Each team has seven players. Three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper, and one Seeker."

He pointed to the hoops. "Chasers pass the Quaffle, that's the big red ball, through those hoops to score goals. Ten points a goal."

"And the Beaters?"

"They carry bats. Knock the Bludgers away from their team, those are the crazy black balls that try to kill you."

Harry blinked.

"Not literally." Terry said quickly. "Usually."

Lynne smirked faintly at Harry's expression but said nothing.

"And the Seeker?" Harry asked.

"Smallest ball, tiny gold thing with wings. That's the Snitch. The Seeker has to catch it. Worth one hundred and fifty points. Catch it, and the match usually ends in a win for your team."

Harry absorbed it all quickly. "Sounds like chaos."

Terry beamed. "Best chaos ever."

Lynne sat with her feet slightly apart, her metal fingers folded loosely in her lap, eyes scanning the pitch with detached interest. The players were already assembling, hovering on their brooms like hawks circling a field.

Madam Hooch, in her bright yellow robes, stood at the center circle, whistle glinting in the sun. The crowd hushed. The whistle shrieked and the balls were released with a crack of sound, and in a flash of color and roaring cheers, the players took to the air.

Harry's breath caught, instantly amazed. He could hear the faint sounds of someone commentating the game but he tuned that out when he got lost in some of the plays, apparently even dodging differently in the air had some names he knew nothing about.

The brooms zipped through the sky with impossible speed and grace. Chasers darted like fish through water, passing the Quaffle in tight formations. Beaters swung their bats in broad arcs, sending Bludgers rocketing across the field with dangerous precision.

And high above it all, the Seekers circled, scanning for that glint of gold. Harry leaned forward, his heart pounding in rhythm with the game.

He barely noticed Hermione squeezing onto the bench beside him, notebook in hand.

"I take it you like it." she said dryly.

Harry didn't answer right away. He was too busy following a Ravenclaw Chaser pulling a breathtaking spiral dive to avoid a Bludger.

"I want to do that." he said, almost under his breath.

Lynne, still watching the sky, said quietly, "You could."

Harry grinned without looking away. "Next year…we have to try out."

Lynne, unusually, leaned in just enough to speak. "We did like flying earlier in the year."

"I loved flying." He answered.

Hermione sighed. "We'll never hear the end of this now."

But Lynne only said "You are light and fast, you would be good."

Harry's smile didn't fade the rest of the match.
​

---

The walk back up to the castle was filled with excited chatter about the match. Harry couldn't stop replaying the dives, sharp turns, the speed of the players. Even Hermione, despite claiming Quidditch was "A foolish risk to health and dignity." seemed a little caught up in the excitement.

Ravenclaw was holding a party, their win against Slytherin had been close, but having lost against Hufflepuff in November and them losing to Slytherin meant that they were still in contention for the Quidditch Cup and everyone was ecstatic.

Still, the trio didn't want to be caught up in the party in the common room, they were not really fond of the excessive noise. They didn't intend to visit Hagrid that evening but when they passed the greenhouses and spotted the broad, familiar figure stacking crates of kindling by his hut, Harry couldn't help himself.

"Let's say hello." he said, already veering off the path.

Hermione sighed. "It's freezing out here and we didn't revise the plan!"

"It'll be warmer by his fire." Harry promised.

Lynne didn't object, she rarely did when Harry led anyway. They crossed the snowy lawn, their boots crunching against the ice-crusted grass. Smoke curled from Hagrid's chimney, thick and sweet with the scent of burning oak.

Before they could knock, Hagrid swung the door open with a creak and a gust of warm, hot air.

"Evenin', you lot!" he said, his massive beard full of bread crumbs. "Come in, come in!"

The three of them shuffled inside, stomping the snow off their boots. Fang the boarhound bounded forward, nearly knocking Hermione over, before settling with a great wheezing huff by the hearth.

The inside of the hut was sweltering compared to the crips winter outside, the fire blazed cheerily. The walls were lined with drying herbs, sacks of feed and strange tools Harry didn't recognize, although he did spend a lot of his time at the Dursley gardening.

Hagrid bustled about, throwing more logs onto the fire.

"Bit nippy out tonight." he said, handing them mugs of steaming cider that smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Harry sipped gratefully, warming his hand on the mug although he noticed quickly that it was quite hot inside already. He also noticed near the hearth, a cookpot that shifted slightly from side to side with a blanket on top.

"Hagrid," he said slowly, "what's that?"

"Eh? Oh, just somethin' I picked up in town," Hagrid said too quickly, waving a hand that nearly knocked over a kettle.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Hagrid."

Lynne, without moving from her chair, simply said, "It's alive. Another creature, Hagrid?"

Hagrid flushed.

"Maybe a bit alive." he admitted.

Harry set down his mug and crouched near the hearth, pulling back the corner of the blanket carefully.

Underneath was a large, black egg, flecked with deep green, pulsing faintly with warmth.

He looked up at Hagrid, eyes wide. "Is that a dragon egg?"

Hagrid beamed, looking ridiculously pleased. "A Norwegian Ridgeback! Rare, that is. Got it off a stranger in the pub. Lucky night, that."

Hermione groaned into her hands. "Hagrid, you can't keep a dragon here! They're illegal!"

"Only if you get caught." Hagrid said cheerfully, tossing Fang a scrap of meat.

"Your dwellings are also wooden. It may go up in flames."

Harry and Hermione looked horrified now, feeling a strange mixture of awe and dread.

"Is it normal to win such things in a pub?" Lynne asked quietly, voice too casual.

Hagrid shrugged. "Dunno. But the fella was friendly enough."

Lynne's metal fingers tapped lightly against the side of her mug, but she said nothing else. The fire crackled louder in the silence.

"How long until it hatches you reckon Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Not sure, any day now me thinks."

The egg didn't wait long. Two nights after their visit, Harry, Hermione, and Lynne found themselves crowded inside Hagrid's hut again, the air thick with the scent of burning logs and singed parchment.

The massive iron cauldron had been moved near the fire, resting on a bed of smoldering coals. Hagrid paced restlessly, wringing his huge hands, casting nervous glances at the trembling shell.

"It's takin' longer than I thought." he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow with a rag that had clearly seen better days.

Harry knelt closer, fascinated. A hairline crack had appeared down the center of the shell. It shimmered faintly under the firelight. Everyone was sweating except Lynne who looked still composed and unbothered by the heat.

Is your body not affected by heat or cold? He asked, his hand slightly moving the watch in his pocket.

Lynne giggled and took out his wand in a swift movement. She waved it and all of a sudden Harry felt like they had cracked an egg from the bottom of his head and it dripped to the bottom of his toes, instantly feeling colder and at ease.

"Cooling charm, I didn't think you were uncomfortable, sorry. Here for you too." she said to Hermione.

"It's moving." Hermione whispered without commenting on the spell, which was rare and spoke about how nervous she was.

They watched as the crack widened, thin tendrils of smoke curling out from the seams. The egg rocked violently once, then again, tipping dangerously to the side. Then, with a sharp crack and a small explosion of sparks, the shell split.

The creature that emerged was nothing like Harry expected. It was tiny, only about the size of a loaf of bread, but already wicked-looking. Its scales gleamed darkly, like wet iron, and tiny wings twitched spasmodically against its back. Its snout was long and narrow, nostrils flaring as it hissed softly at the sudden cold outside the shell.

Its eyes, a deep gold and slit like a cat's, blinked once, then locked onto them.

"Ain't he beautiful?" Hagrid breathed, his voice thick with pride.

Hermione made a strangled noise in her throat. The baby dragon wobbled on its spindly legs, letting out a small, rasping growl.

"I will call him Norbert."

Without hesitation, Lynne stepped forward before anyone could react, she knelt by the broken shell, extending her metal hands slowly. The dragon sniffed the air cautiously, then with surprising speed, latched onto her forearms with its tiny jaws.

Harry flinched and Hagrid let out a small gasp, but Lynne didn't even blink, as the dragon gnawed harmlessly at the metal, its small fangs scraping uselessly against the enchanted surface.

"That'll save yer skin, that will." Hagrid said, impressed. "They have a nasty bite, most dragons are venomous."

Lynne gently pried the creatures free, cradling it carefully between her palms, the baby dragon squirmed but then seemed to settle, curling up with a low rumble of content.

"Looks like he likes you." Harry said, half in awe, half in disbelief.

"It's because I am heating my hands."

Lynne tilted her head slightly, studying the small creature as it yawned and exhaled a puff of smoke that made Harry cough.

"It's not a "he", and she is hungry." she said simply.

Hagrid bustled to his pantry, returning with strips of raw meat, which Lynne fed to the dragon with quiet efficiency. She devoured the food greedily, small sparks flaring at the corners of her mouth.

"So I guess you will have to think of another name, Hagrid." Harry said, still amazed at the creature.

"I guess, how did you know it was a female dragon by the way?" Hagrid asked in wonder.

"Male dragons are not aggressive when they are born."

Hermione wrung her hands nervously. "Hagrid, you have to understand, you can't keep her here. Someone's going to notice."

"She'll be no trouble, I'll train 'er proper."

But even as he spoke, the dragon gave a sudden hiccup and a burst of flame scorched the edge of one of Hagrid's rugs. Lynne stamped it out with one foot, calm as ever. Harry exchanged a look with Hermione.

"This isn't going to work for long, is it?." Harry said.

"Female dragons also grow in size very quickly."

Harry groaned anxiously.
​

---

The next evening, the hut felt warmer and heavier than before. The dragon now named Norberta, after a rather fierce debate between Hagrid and Hermione, had doubled in size overnight. Her scales glinted sharper and her baby growls had turned into guttural rumbles that made Fang cower under the table.

Harry sat near the hearth, watching as Lynne methodically wrapped Norberta in a large, heavy cloth to muffle the sound of her squirming. She worked with practiced care, completely unaffected by the occasional burst of smoke puffing near her hands.

Hagrid was muttering to himself near the pantry, trying to locate more meat scraps while Hermione was looking inside a book on how to care for a dragon, that she took off the library that day.

Then all of a sudden Lynne froze mid-motion. Harry caught the worry in her eyes and the sudden shift in her stance, her head tilted slightly, the way her shoulders tensed under her robes.

"Someone's outside." she said quietly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"

Lynne didn't answer, she placed Norberta back in her makeshift basket and rose silently, moving towards the door like a shadow. Harry and Hermione barely dared to breathe. For a moment, there was only the crackling of the fire and the faint scraping of claws against wood.

Then Lynne flung the door open, on the side of the hut was Draco Malfoy stacking crates to peak from the side window. His pale face went even paler when he saw Lynne, and for a frozen second, no one moved. Then he started running.

Lynne slipped outside, disappearing into the night like a whisper. The rest of them stayed frozen inside, hearts pounding barely daring to move. Minutes passed and Lynne returned, brushing a few snowflakes from her cloak, her expression was calm and unbothered.

"He's gone." she said simply. "He won't trouble us tonight, I don't think he saw anything."

Harry let out a relieved sigh, Hermione suspicious by nature hesitated, but Lynne couldn't lie so there was no reason to suspect anything.

"Good, we need to focus on what to do with Norberta." she said at last.

Lynne only nodded, setting back by the fire as if nothing had happened, while outside, hidden behind Hagrid's hut a small butterfly was resting, her enchanted trunk sitting quietly in the shadows of the window. No one heard the faint thump as if the butterfly had something inside.
​

---

Draco winced as the metal door of the trunk slammed shut with a loud crack, woken up by the loud noise. The small space was unnaturally large inside, cold and dark. Filled with many rooms, the one he was currently in had a strange mist clinging to the ground. He stumbled back, trying to find his wand but he didn't find it.

Volant was inside, he could hear her steps for the first time, and he felt intimidated. She stepped into the room wand ready, with a swift and sharp twist of her wrist sent him flying, his limbs clattering across the stone floor.

He let out a small yelp as he felt the pain go through his body. Trying desperately not to cry or show weakness, he stared at her menacing small form. She was still aiming her wand at him and her face showed no emotions. He stood up fast but there was nothing he could do without his wand.

"Sit."

The word was quiet but cut through the dense air like a blade, her voice was always strange, raw and broken. Now it sounded downright mechanical, as fear took hold of him, he couldn't move.

"You- you can't touch me, my father…"

The blonde's pale figure was approaching him, the metal of her prosthetic hands gleaming under the faint blue light she conjured. Without warning, she stomped down hard onto his foot. The paint hit him before he could realize that not only her arms were prosthetic but her legs as well. He cried out, trying to pull back, but she pressed down harder.

"Sit." she repeated, emotionless.

Tears were blurring his vision, and then she hit him on his stomach making him double down as a gurgle escaped his mouth. Gritting his teeth and nursing his foot, Draco sat on the floor, out of breath and coughing.

"You were about to spy on us. What did you see?" Volant stated, cold and detached. "Why were you there?"

Draco opened his mouth, to lie of course, but a sharp jet of water struck him across the face before he could form a word. It was ice cold and it made him cough again. It soaked his robes instantly, making the chilly air inside the trunk feel like a frozen cage.

"Aah!" he gasped. "I saw nothing… I was just curious!"

"Aguamenti."

Another jet of water hit him again, this time aimed at his ear, drenching the side of his head and making him shiver uncontrollably.

"You are lying." she said.

He scrambled backwards, but the trunk's edge was there, a wall of wood and wherever he moved, Volant would follow.

"I-I swear! I was outside our common room after curfew on a dare! Crabbe and Goyle said that without them I wouldn't go outside, I just happened to see you out as well." he tried to sound convincing, but it came out in a strangled whimper.

Another stomp, squarely on his hand this time, not hard enough to break bones but enough to make him yelp and clutch it against his chest. She crouched in front of him now, bringing her cold face close to his.

"What did you hear at Hagrid's, what did you see?"

"I don't know anything! Please! I just saw shadows and heard noises!" Draco blabbered, tears mixing with the water dripping down his face.

Volant stared at him unblinking and for a terrifying moment, Draco thought she might crush his throat without a second thought.

But then she stood. "Pathetic." she muttered. "You would think that the spawn of Death Eaters would have torture practice."

She turned slightly, lifting her hand and with a flick of her wand, he levitated him.

"You will say you suffered a prank and got soaked this morning. If I hear you tell anyone, anyone at all, you will regret it."

She lifted him through the room, then up some stairs out of the trunk. Still soaked he was let down by her, they were somehow at the front Gates of the castle. She threw him his wand at his feet and gave him a look of disgust.

"Go."

Draco didn't need to be told twice, stumbling over himself, he fled into the castle, clutching his hand, still feeling the phantom weight of her metal foot on his bones, and vowing never to cross Lynne Volant again. His foot throbbed with every step and his soaked robes clinging to him even after casting a drying charm.

He didn't stop until the looming shadow of Hogwarts swallowed him again. His feet guided him to the hospital Wing, he collapsed in front of the door trying to catch his breath, wiping at his face with trembling hands.

For a few long moments he did nothing but shiver, from the cold and also the sheer terror that the blonde girl inflicted on him. He thought about going to Professor Snape, maybe he could protect him, but the thought evaporated when a memory surfaced.

Avoid contact with Volant AT ALL COSTS.

His father's letter, commanding, like always. He had thought his father was exaggerating, but now he knew, now he understood. Telling Snape would lead to his father finding out, basically admitting that he ignored his warning. Worse, it would mean admitting weakness, fear. A Malfoy did not fear.

He stared down at his hand, still red from where her metal foot had crushed it, the throbbing was duller now, however the same couldn't be said about the pain. No one could know about this, he thought. Draco clenched his fists in pain.

He knocked on the door and the last thing he thought before asking Madam Pomfrey for help is that he would avoid her, no matter what. He would make damn sure his own feet would stay out of Volant's path, and Merlin help anyone foolish enough to cross her.
​

---

The next day dawned grey and bitterly cold, with a sharp wind that rattled the high windows of the castle. Harry pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he and Hermione slipped into the library's corner table, Lynne already waiting there with a thin sheaf of parchment spread out before her.

Hermione glanced around carefully to make sure Madam Pince wasn't lurking nearby.

"We have to move the dragon," she whispered urgently. "Tonight, if we can."

Harry nodded. "Before someone gets brave enough to get near the hut."

"Agreed." Lynne said simply.

Harry bit her lip. "Even if she does nothing, Norberta is growing too fast. If anyone sees her breathing fire or breaking furniture, there'll be questions."

Hermione leaned over the table. "Ron's been bragging about his brother Charlie, he works with dragons in Romania. Maybe we could ask for help?"

Lynne considered it. "If we can trust him to keep quiet."

Harry shrugged. "He would be more interested in meeting the dragon than anything else. I think he'd help."

Hermione gave a small groan. "Well duh. Boys and dragons."

It wasn't hard to find Ron.

He was by the Great Hall stairs, arguing animatedly with Seamus Finnigan about the latest gossip. Apparently Malfoy had appeared at breakfast totally soaked in water, looking distraught with a lost look in his eyes, and was taken to the hospital wing, something that amused the Gryffindors.

When Harry pulled him aside, Ron grinned, then listened, wide-eyed, as Harry explained the situation.

"A dragon?" Ron whispered. "In Hagrid's hut?"

Harry nodded.

"Wicked! You have to let me see it." Ron said immediately. "You have to."

"Help us get him out." Harry said. "Then you can."

Ron agreed almost before Harry finished speaking. He promised to send an owl to Charlie that night, explaining everything.

By the next afternoon, the reply came, short and direct:

Will send friends. Be at Astronomy Tower midnight Friday. Keep the dragon hidden.

Lynne burned the note after reading it. It was all happening fast now. The night of the plan, Hogwarts seemed unnaturally quiet.

Harry and Lynne met near the greenhouses, cloaked and ready. Hermione waited near Hagrid's hut, keeping watch. The invisibility cloak had plenty of room between them, Harry and Lynne were after all the smallest students in their year, but carrying a dragon would complicate matters, there would be barely enough fabric to hide both if they stood close.

Norberta, now about the size of a large dog and ten times as noisy, squirmed restlessly in the thick blanket Lynne had wrapped around him. Tiny bursts of smoke leaked from between the folds.

"Keep his mouth covered." Harry whispered.

"I am." Lynne said.

Harry marveled again at how calmly she handled Norberta's writhing body. The baby dragon bit at her metal arms, claws raking harmlessly over the enchanted surface. She didn't even flinch.

Carefully, awkwardly, they made their way up the castle stairs, sticking to shadows, stopping whenever they heard footsteps.

More than once, Harry thought they would be caught. A group of prefects passed close by near the library stairwell. Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, prowled the fourth floor. Somewhere above, Peeves cackled in the pipes.

But Lynne moved like a wraith, leading them through forgotten corridors, back staircases, hidden passages Harry had never noticed before.

When they finally reached the Astronomy Tower, Harry's heart was pounding so loudly he was sure it would give them away.

Two shadowy figures waited near the top, bundled against the cold, their dragon-handling gloves already on.

"Quickly." whispered the redhead of the two. That must be Charlie, Harry thought.

Lynne stepped forward, lifting Norberta with surprising ease despite his wriggling. She handed him over carefully, making sure the blanket stayed wrapped.

The handlers secured him in a reinforced sling. Norberta whined once, a puff of smoke rising into the cold air.

"You handled her perfectly for a first year, I hope to hear from you again in the future!" commented Charlie.

Then, with a final wave, the two figures mounted their brooms and kicked off into the night, Norberta dangling carefully between them as they vanished into the stars. Harry and Lynne stood there for a moment, watching them disappear over the Forbidden Forest.

As they slipped back into the castle under the invisibility cloak, Harry whispered, half-laughing, half-exhausted, "We actually did it."

Lynne only nodded, her eyes scanning the shadows ahead. But something in the set of her shoulders told Harry she was finally relaxed.
​

---

The corridors were nearly empty by the time they slipped back into the Ravenclaw common room. A few other students had dozed off near the hearth, the air thick with the comfortable stillness of a castle wrapped in winter.

Harry peeled off the invisibility cloak and collapsed into an armchair, breathing hard, his heart still racing from the night's adventure.

"We actually did it." he whispered again, almost laughing.

Lynne pulled her hood down, scanning the common room with a habitually cautious eye. She didn't smile. Instead, she moved toward the high arched window, where the moonlight pooled across the stone like liquid silver.

Harry watched her for a moment, still giddy, then followed.

"You seem unhappy." he said quietly. He thought briefly that maybe she wanted to care for the dragon, seeing how she handled Norberta. It looked cute and now he realized that maybe Lynne grew fond of the dragon in the small time it hatched.

Lynne didn't answer at first. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, metal fingers clicking softly together. "Getting her out of the school was a priority. I'm not unhappy about it, I'm worried."

After a brief pause, she spoke. "Dragon eggs are not easy to find." she said. "Even in the darker parts of the world."

Harry frowned. "You think Hagrid's... friend just happened to have one?"

"No." she said, voice low. "Someone wanted it here. They wanted the distraction."

The words hung in the air between them.

Harry shifted uneasily. "But why?"

Lynne's gaze stayed fixed on the night sky, where two tiny dots were still faintly visible against the stars, growing smaller with every heartbeat.

"Because when you have a dragon near the castle..." she said slowly, "You stop looking at the doors that should stay locked."

Harry felt a chill crawl up the back of his neck.

"You think... they wanted the Stone?"

"I think someone used Hagrid's heart against him." Lynne said. "And wanted to cause problems for everyone else with the dragon."

Harry swallowed. The excitement of the night soured slightly in his stomach.

The castle outside the window looked so peaceful, frost sparkling on the rooftops, moonlight dusting the towers. But underneath, the stone halls twisted deep and dark. Secrets still slithered through the veins of Hogwarts.

"We have to be careful." Lynne said finally, turning away from the window.

Harry nodded, the weight of her words sinking in fully now.
​

---

The private room deep beneath the Slytherin common room smelled of damp stone and old parchment.

Lucius Malfoy leaned against a narrow pillar, impeccably dressed even here, a silver-topped cane resting against his shoulder. His face, bathed in the dim green torchlight, was unreadable.

He had been allowed entry on the grounds of being part of the board of Governors and using the excuse of a surprise inspection of the school. Before him, standing stiffly at attention, was Septimus Rowle, a seventh-year student, pureblood to the bone.

"You understand your task." Lucius said, his voice smooth as silk wrapped around steel.

Rowle nodded once, a shallow, clipped gesture.

"I do."

"You are not to be seen." Lucius continued. "You are not to fail."

Rowle's jaw tightened. "And the consequences?"

Lucius smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"If you succeed, your debts are forgotten. Your family restored to favor. If you fail however..."

He shrugged elegantly, as if the outcome hardly mattered to him. Rowle said nothing. He didn't need to. The hatred burning behind his eyes was enough. His brother Thorfinn should have played the game better.

"You will find him vulnerable." Lucius added, voice dropping low. "The wards are weaker there. The noise will cover much."

Rowle's mouth curled into something that might have been a grin.

"When?"

Lucius turned away, adjusting his gloves with absent precision.

"Soon enough."

The torches flickered once, casting long shadows that streched against the stones. Rowle left without another word. And Lucius, alone once more, allowed himself the faintest of smiles. He briefly entertained the idea of visiting Draco but decided to head back home, it hadn't been long since Christmas after all.​

 

[Lucernello]

AN: motivation first.

If Fred and George could turn detentions into business opportunities, imagine what you can do with your day. Some doors open with Alohomora, others with kindness, it is worth trying both just to be sure.

Decided to post on american timezone for a bit to test, don't mind me.
Luce
​

---

Chapter 7 - Programmed

The morning of the match broke bright and filled with hoarfrost filled with hoarfrost, sunlight flashing off the frozen spires of the castle. Students poured into the Quidditch stands, house scarves flying, their breath steaming in the crisp air.

Harry adjusted his Ravenclaw scarf and leaned over the railing, his heart racing as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams circled above, brooms cutting sharp patterns against the sky. The crowd roared with every near-miss and every goal.

Hermione sat two rows back, already taking notes, while Lynne stood at the edge of their section, her eyes moving ceaselessly, cataloging movement in the stands with mechanical precision.

Lynne's posture was tense, shoulders slightly forward, one hand hovering near the sleeve that usually harbored her wand. She was looking uneasy but Harry didn't notice.

He was too busy leaning closer over the rail, following the Quaffle's rapid arc across the pitch. Then he heard it. A voice, faint and strained, carried up from the lower stairs beneath the stands.

"Help… "

Harry blinked, straightening. He glanced back at Hermione, but she was focused on her parchment. No one else seemed to react. Only Lynne, half-turned now, her metal fingers flexing, her body sharpening into awareness.

He heard it again. "Help… please… "

It was coming from under the stands. Somewhere close. Without thinking, Harry slipped through the crowd and began hurrying down the narrow wooden steps.

He didn't see Lynne immediately fall into step behind him, her footsteps silent against the boards. The noise of the crowd dimmed as he descended.

Below the stands, the light faded quickly, shadows crawling between the thick beams that supported the seating above. A few maintenance brooms leaned against the wall. Stray bits of dropped food and lost scarves littered the corners.

And there, near the far end, he thought he saw a movement.

"Hello?" Harry called out.

No answer. Just the soft creaking of wood overhead, and the faraway roar of the match. He took another step forward. That was when Lynne's voice snapped sharply behind him.

"Harry. Back away."

He turned and the spell hit him squarely across the chest.

The world shook violently. Pain exploded across his ribs. The ground rushed up to meet him. Harry crashed into a support beam, crumpling to the ground with a grunt, vision swimming, his wand skittering out of reach.

Above him, footsteps approached fast.

​

---

Lynne didn't hesitate. She moved faster than thought, her wand snapping out from her sleeve in a single fluid motion. The 7th-year Slytherin burst from the shadows, face twisted, another curse already forming on his lips, but he was too slow.

"Reducto."

Lynne's spell hit him first, an almost soundless snap of impact. The Slytherin's wand jerked from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor as his hand was now nowhere to be found .

He cried loudly. Lynne was already there, crossing the gap between them in two strides. She drove her shoulder into his chest, slamming him against the support post with an impact that rattled the wood beams overhead.

The boy gasped, folding over. Her metal fingers closed around his hair keeping him from falling on the floor. There was a sharp, audible pop as her first connected with his face and he howled in pain.

"Diffindo."

She casted a cutting curse hitting his uninjured hand, successfully negating the threat, he wouldn't be able to grab his wand anymore with any hand. Lynne's wand was pressed to his forehead before the scream fully left his mouth.

"Stupefy." she said coldly.

The boy whimpered, crumpling to the ground. Lynne turned immediately to Harry. He was conscious, blinking dazedly, blood trickling from a shallow cut above his eyebrow.

She knelt, checking him with quick, clinical movements.

"Broken ribs . Internal bleeding " she murmured, more to herself than to him. "Shallow concussion ."

She aimed her wand at Harry. "Brachio emendo."

After fixing his ribs and checking him up again, she gave him a Wiggenweld Potion. She was sure that Harry would be alright, maybe a few hours in the hospital wing and more potions would help as well. Harry tried to speak but only managed a groan.

Above them, the crowd's cheers faltered as the commotion spread. Students and teachers began descending, drawn by the noise. Lynne stood in one smooth movement, stepping protectively over Harry, her wand still drawn, her body positioned squarely between him and the stunned attacker and whoever might show up.

The first people to arrive skidded to a halt at the sight. Hermione among them. For a moment, there was only silence. The Slytherin boy was lying unconscious on the ground, one of his hands missing and the other one with a huge cut, a lot of blood pooling over.

And Lynne was calm, motionless, standing watch over Harry like a silent, unbreakable sentinel. Someone puked.

​

---

The world stood still for a heartbeat. Students crowding down from the stands halted abruptly at the edge of the lower stairwell, faces wide-eyed and pale. Whispers rippled like static through the crowd. Someone gasped. A Ravenclaw prefect stepped back, visibly recoiling from the pool of blood slowly spreading beneath the crumpled Slytherin boy.

Professor Flitwick pushed through the gathering mass, his short frame moving with surprising speed for a man his age. His sharp eyes took in everything at once.

For a moment, he thought he had stepped onto a battlefield again. The Slytherin boy lay crumpled on the stone, blood staining the ground around him. His right hand was gone below the wrist, his forearm still twitching faintly from the trauma. His other arm, brutally slashed open. He was stunned unconscious and barely breathing.

Standing between the wounded boy and the fallen Potter was Lynne Volant, looking calm and still. Her metal hands glinted under the light of her wand, still lit by the last spell she had used, lowered but not yet sheathed. Her stance reminded him of professional duelists, guarded, cold and ready to strike again if needed.

"Clear back! All of you, clear back!" Flitwick barked, his high voice slicing through the rising panic. The students obeyed, stumbling backward.

Flitwick knelt beside the wounded Slytherin, muttering rapid spells under his breath. A soft golden glow issued from the tip of his wand, slowing the blood loss, sealing the worst of the damage. Flitwick moved on instinct, years of practice overriding his shock.

He stabilized the boy's injuries, sealing flesh, stanching blood. One wrong move and the boy would be dead within minutes. Only after the worst had been patched did he allow himself to look at Lynne properly. She hadn't moved. Flitwick approached slowly, cautiously, like one might approach a cornered hawk.

"Miss Volant." he said quietly. "Put your wand away. Please."

There was a heartbeat of tension, so thin he thought he might hear it snap. Then Lynne, mechanical as a clock winding down, tucked her wand away inside her sleeve. He took his wand out.

She hadn't reacted out of rage and she hadn't even reacted out of fear. He could almost admire it, if he weren't so chilled by the precision of her violence. He took a careful step toward her.

"I will check on mister Potter now."

Volant nodded once in relief, perhaps, or silent acknowledgment and stepped aside. Flitwick exhaled softly through his nose, relief mingling uneasily with something heavier. He examined the boy-who-lived briefly and concluded he wasn't in danger but he was still hurt.

"Escort Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing immediately!" he ordered two older Ravenclaw prefects.

They hesitated only a second before rushing forward to help Harry upright, supporting him between them as he stumbled slightly. They jolted into action, lifting Harry gently, speaking to him in low, urgent voices.

When he looked back at Lynne, she had already straightened, hands at her sides, eyes unfathomable. That, more than anything, made Flitwick's throat tighten. He saw it now, the truth that most students, even most professors, would miss. Lynne Volant was a weapon. By design.

"And Miss Volant." Flitwick said, his voice lower, grave. "You will accompany me. Now."

Lynne inclined her head once. Silent and obedient. But her expression was unreadable, cold as the frost still clinging to the castle walls. He levitated Rowle carefully and they started heading to the Hospital Wing. He was already dreading to think about the punishments.

The hospital wing was too bright. Harry blinked against the white light streaming in from the tall windows, his head pounding dully in time with his heartbeat. The world shifted slightly whenever he tried to sit up, so he gave up and stayed still.

Madam Pomfrey bustled nearby, her wand flashing silver as she worked over another bed, the unconscious form of Septimus Rowle. Bandages wrapped thick around his torso, his arms, his remaining hand.

Harry shifted slightly, wincing as his ribs protested. Footsteps approached. He turned his head just enough to see Professor Flitwick enter, his face unusually grave. Behind him came Professor Sprout, Professor Vector, and a tight knot of Ravenclaw and Slytherin prefects, whispering and arguing under their breath.

At the center of it all, still and expressionless, stood Lynne.

She hadn't been allowed to leave. Her arms were crossed neatly behind her back, her metal fingers glinting under the hospital wing's sterile lights. Her face betrayed nothing.

Flitwick called for quiet with a sharp gesture.

"This matter will be handled internally," he said, his voice clipped, sharper than Harry had ever heard it. "No student will speak of it outside this room. Am I understood?"

There were scattered nods. No one dared object. Harry tried to sit up again, wincing, but Flitwick motioned for him to stay down.

"There will be consequences." Flitwick continued. "Both parties are responsible for breaking school conduct, regardless of circumstance."

A Ravenclaw prefect stepped forward.

"Sir." she said carefully. "Volant says Rowle attacked Potter. Unprovoked, and he could have made serious damage."

Another voice, sharper, cut in. He assumed a Slytherin but he couldn't see him as he tried to turn only to feel pain in his chest.

"But look what she did to him!"

All eyes turned toward Lynne. Harry's fists clenched in the bedsheets. Flitwick's mouth tightened.

"Miss Volant." he said slowly. "You exceeded necessary force, I will not allow you to maim another student again."

Still, she said nothing. Not a word of protest. She stood like a statue.

"Your wand will be confiscated," Flitwick said. "Effective immediately."

A small, collective murmur rose among the students. Harry caught the glint of fear in some eyes, Ravenclaws and Slytherins alike. Lynne reached into her sleeve, withdrawing her wand with precision. She handed it over to Flitwick without a flicker of expression.

"I will take Mr. Rowle's as well and both you and him will serve detention." Flitwick added. "Separately. You will not cross paths again within these halls."

Harry opened his mouth, ready to argue, to say something, but Madam Pomfrey shushed him gently, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Flitwick gave no room for discussion.

"It is done."

He turned, wand in hand, and the crowd began to disperse in uneasy silence. Hermione appeared at Harry's bedside a few minutes later, her face pale, a furrow between her brows.

"You're lucky." she said softly. "Madam Pomfrey said it was a concussion, a few cracked ribs. Nothing permanent."

Harry grimaced. "What about Lynne?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, where Lynne now stood alone, gazing quietly out one of the high windows.

"She's fine, but... Everyone's scared of her now." Hermione whispered. "Even the Ravenclaws."

Harry swallowed hard, he didn't know what to say. He felt Lynne loved magic and she just gave it away for some time in order to protect him, but he also thought that such violence was not necessary.

At the same time, he grimly remembered that he had promised to be better in order to protect his friends and ended up not being able to do anything about it. In fact, he felt guilty again, if he had stopped to think for a second before rushing in, he could have realized it was a trap or at least let a professor help instead if it wasn't.

Now, his best friend was wandless and he felt horrible about it.

​

---

The halls were quiet when Harry slipped out of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had gone to fetch another batch of potions, and no one noticed when he eased the door open and made his way down the corridor toward the empty classroom where they would usually practice together.

He knew where she would be. Lynne sat at the far end of the room, her back straight, her hands resting neatly in her lap. Her head snapped to him watching him as he approached.

"Hey." Harry said softly from the doorway.

She looked concerned for a second before masking it behind her usual demeanor. "You should be resting ."

"I know."

He came in slowly, the sound of his trainers barely echoing on the stone floor.

"I just…" He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."

That made her blink at him.

"You're injured, I almost failed to protect you, I should be apologizing ." she said, voice quiet.

He shook his head. "They took your wand. It was my fault."

He sat across from her, folding his hands tightly in his lap.

"You did it to protect me." he added. "If only I hadn't rushed towards danger like that..."

Lynne stared at him for a moment. "I would do it again. "

He swallowed hard. "I wouldn't want you to. You hurt him… Badly."

She didn't flinch. "He meant to kill you. His intent was clear. "

"I…" Harry whispered. "It's just… I keep thinking that it shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Everyone makes mistakes, all that matters to me is that you are alive."

Harry looked down unsure what else to say, truth was whenever he tried thinking about what happened he would remember the blood, the screams and it made him feel ill.

Lynne's face was still and unreadable as always.

"Lynne. If I wasn't the one involved, would you have just stunned him?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the floor. "Was hurting him like that my fault too?"

Lynne tilted her head slightly. "I stopped when the threat was neutralized, there are ways to stop a stunner, I minimized the risks, it was not your fault, if I was alone I would have done the same ."

Harry blinked.

"I calculated the minimum force necessary to prevent him from trying again. Disabling his hands was the most efficient option. "

He looked up at her then, really looked.

"I don't know if I could've done that." he admitted.

"You're not meant to. "

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I want to protect you as well, but I don't want to hurt someone like that."

Then Lynne said "You shouldn't feel guilty for what others do for you. You are my best friend, Harry. I really don't mind parting with my wand for you, it's temporary either way. "

"But without it, you cannot do magic, you will fall behind on classes."

Truth is, he knew she didn't really care about classes, but he was thinking about what it would be if they would have taken his wand away. Being in the wizarding world without being able to do magic would be devastating for him.

She gave him a small smirk. "I still have my hands, they will give it back for exams, don't worry. "

Harry didn't smile at that, but he did feel something settle in his chest, not comfort exactly, but something like reassurance.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

"I've endured worse. " she replied. "Besides… Hmm, can you keep a secret for me, Harry? "

He hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. "Of course."

She opened her cloak slightly, revealing the faint glint of a secondary wand tucked beneath the lining.

Harry's eyes widened. "You… you have a spare wand?"

"A secondary wand just in case, you didn't actually think I was unprepared, did you?"

He nodded slowly, quietly relieved.

"I don't want you to get in trouble for helping me again." he said.

She turned her gaze toward the window, where the snow had begun to fall again in soft, drifting flakes.

"Trouble... " she said, "It's a very small price to keep you alive. "

As always, Lynne left him feeling conflicted again.

​

---

Hogwarts rumour mill ran wild, painting the picture of a demonic first year that had ruthlessly attacked a 7th year, as if that was even possible. Virgil was sure it was all a plot to bully the skilled blonde girl. It was clear that the Ravenclaws who had tried to mess with her now found another accident to claim as her fault.

There were so many versions and theories of how it happened that it was ridiculous to even begin to think of them as the truth, and as always when it involved Harry Potter, be it his first flying lessons or the troll attack incident, no one actually knew what happened and greatly exaggerated the events.

Someone had it out for the first year which oddly enough didn't seem to think it was such a big deal, she was still walking the halls as if nothing was happening around her. Somehow she had befriended a Gryffindor that would follow her around and that seemed to be enough for her to not mind anyone else.

It was still refreshing to have the focus placed on those rumours, it seemed that the attacks that were building momentum had stopped for now and the Daily Prophet had nothing but speculations about the murderer "Crimson Wings", but nothing else. The distraction made him feel at ease.

He was still not going to join in with the rest though, he saw no need to bring a little girl down when she had clearly outsmarted the older year students, but it was sad to see how others were so quick to join in at pointing fingers at her. No one dared to make a move at her obviously.

If the rumour that she was capable of maiming a 7th year was true, no one had a chance at doing anything to her other than annoy her. Even if she had her wand confiscated, there were rumours her prosthetics were powerful enough to send people flying.

He laughed at the absurdity of the depth of the rumours, how low his mighty house had fallen if that was what they could come up with to try to ostracize a little girl that knew how to defend herself from older bullies.

The 6th year student made up his mind at that moment, he would befriend her as well, just to show her that not everyone was an idiot, it would be a nice distraction as well from the heavier topics.

He would have to find her first, which sometimes was difficult, but they were in the same house, surely it couldn't be that hard.

​

---

Hagrid wasn't used to feeling nervous in the Forbidden Forest. He had mapped almost the entirety of the place after all, he could understand the creatures that live there, and there were not many things that could spook him.

He had walked these paths since he was a boy, and no creature, no whisper of wind or rustling leaf, could ever truly frighten him. But tonight, something was off. He walked with a lantern in one hand and his crossbow slung across his back, the cold air pressing against his skin like damp wool. Fang padded quietly at his side.

Behind him, Harry's friend, Lynne, followed silently. She made no sound as she moved, not even when dry branches cracked underfoot. Her presence was a shadow behind his shoulder, constant and unreadable. It felt like he was being stalked by Nundu.

Well maybe he was exaggerating a bit, but the uneasy feeling was there with her behind him. He had seen her take care of a dragon without a moment of doubt and it had given her quite a cute look. That was totally gone tonight, replaced by the most unattached face he had seen on a child.

She hadn't spoken since they left the castle. Hagrid had tried, at first. He had tried to explain what they were looking for, someone was attacking the Unicorns and they had to figure out what was causing such a ruckus. But she looked uninterested in the reason behind their forest visit.

"Used to be, detentions meant scrubbin' cauldrons." he muttered aloud, more to fill the silence than to complain. "Now it's all forest and gloomy fog, eh?"

There had been no answer at all. He cleared his throat, glancing back once. She was looking at him. She wasn't even looking around, calculating and sharp. That made his stomach twist. They reached the old clearing by the stone arch. The place was quiet, but the air felt too still, too dense. Even the insects weren't singing tonight.

"Alright." Hagrid said, trying to sound lighter. "We'll circle the edge, then head back. Jus' routine, nothin' outta place, the herd should be close from here."

Lynne gave the smallest nod. They walked another five minutes before Hagrid noticed it. A presence. Faint but wrong. Like the forest had taken a breath and hadn't let it out. Then, up ahead, movement. A hooded figure, slim and rigid, like floating between the trees.

"Stay here." Hagrid said quickly, holding out an arm. He saw that the hooded being was after a unicorn, this was it, he was preparing the crossbow to aim and fired at the intruding creature. He fired when he was sure it was going to attack but instead of connecting, the creature just batted the bolt away with incredible ease.

This made him stop dead in his tracks, something that could bat a bolt out of the air was incredibly dangerous, and he was unsure of such a creature of humanoid form. They had to turn back and get back up. The creature continued without a care in the world, clearly intending in hunting down a unicorn. But Lynne didn't stop.

She was already moving, wand out, she shouldn't have one he briefly thought, and he noticed it was different from the last time she had visited. Hagrid cursed under his breath and followed. The hooded figure turned, his face not visible through the shadow threads. An eerie feeling crept through Hagrid's body.

He saw Lynne raise her wand.

"Confringo." he heard her say.

The blast hit the ground near the shadow's feet, sending up dirt and roots. It cried out, flying backwards. Another step and she was on him, her wand snapping forward.

"Depulso."

The creature raised their sleeves and dodged, barely. The spell grazed its shoulder, spinning it sideways into the trees. It made no sound as it got up without pausing for a second. Then a hissing sound echoed from the shadowy creature but Lynne didn't falter. She moved after him, her wand aimed, her free hand clenched in a white-knuckled fist.

Then as she was about to attack again it flew high and fast into the forest, like an animal running for its life. Hagrid saw Lynne not chase it as he expected. She stood there, watching, like she was listening to something else, her shoulders rising and falling slowly. Hagrid caught up, out of breath, crossbow drawn.

"What in Merlin's name was that?"

A sudden rustle nearby made them both freeze. From the shadow of the trees stepped three centaurs, their eyes luminous in the dark, their movements slow and grave. One stepped forward, a tall, silver-maned figure with a deep scar across his chest.

"You have disrupted the evil presence tonight." the centaur said.

Lynne lowered her wand but didn't step back.

"The stars shifted." another said behind him. "And not of their own accord."

"You walk a path not written in your blood." the scarred one continued. "A path not meant to be open. You do not belong here, forged girl."

Hagrid held up both hands.

"Firenze! She is just a student" he said carefully. "We were after the creature attacking the-"

"Your visit was written in the stars, Hagrid." the centaur cut in. "She was unseen."

Lynne met the centaur's gaze, challenging to try anything.

"Your fate is clouded, they shouldn't have brought you into this world." the centaur replied. "You are an abomination, just like the evil you chased away, leave these lands."

With that, the centaurs aimed their bows at her. Lynne stood silent. Hagrid exhaled, wiping his brow.

"Well, we can be reasonable, righ' friend?" he muttered. "We will leave in peace."

He saw Lynne's hand tightened once more around the backup wand. The centaurs nodded and slowly lowered their bows. Not wanting to anger the hoved creatures, he also lowered his crossbow and placed a hand on Lynne's shoulder, guiding her back.

He briefly wondered what the centaurs meant, but at the same time, he knew that they made no sense most of the time, and the girl didn't seem interested in what they said so he saw no reason to overthink it.

As they walked back through the darkened trees, Hagrid kept glancing sideways at the girl beside him, her face unreadable in the flickering light of his lantern. She hadn't said a word since the centaurs vanished, and maybe that was what unnerved him most. He'd seen danger before, seen violence too, but never in someone so young, and never with such purpose.

The kind of thing you saw in experienced hunters maybe, but not students. And for the first time, as the trees thinned and the castle lights came into view, Hagrid wondered if Lynne Volant really was human at all. Ironically, if she wasn't, Hagrid wanted to know what type of being she was and how he could take care of her.

"Hagrid ." She said breaking the silence. "How about you repay me the help I gave you with the dragon by keeping quiet about my spare wand? "

"Aye." he said after a pause, voice low with understanding.

Truthfully, he shouldn't have a wand either and he still had the broken pieces made into an umbrella to be able to still use magic, he was the perfect person to understand that no one that didn't deserve it should be stripped of their means to make magic.

"I'll keep quiet." he mumbled.

​

---

The infirmary had long since gone quiet for the night. Madam Pomfrey slept behind the curtain in her private chamber, a silencing charm stretched across the threshold.

The torches burned low, casting flickering shadows across the white-tiled floor. Septimus Rowle stirred in his bed. He wasn't fully awake yet. The painkillers made his head swim. One arm had been numbed to the shoulder. His other wrist was wrapped in spell-woven bandages.

They had regrown his bones on his hands, and gave him potions and essence to regrow his flesh. It had been painful and exhausting, but he was going to have his hands back with only scars for evidence.

He groaned and shifted. And found that he couldn't move. His eyes snapped open. A shape sat at the foot of the bed. Still. Silent. She didn't wear her school robes this time. Volant sat in the dark, elbows on her knees, chin resting lightly on her hand as she watched him wake.

"You're healing slower than expected. " she said softly. "Or perhaps you're just weaker than I thought. "

Rowle tried to sit up, but ropes he couldn't see pressed him back into the mattress. Wards flared once in pale white around them.

"You…" he rasped, voice dry. "You're not allowed to-"

She tilted her head. "Like you are allowed to kill a student? "

He fell silent. Her eyes flicked to his bedside table, to the wand he no longer had.

"I am going to give you a chance." she said, reaching into her cloak. "This will be your only warning. "

Septimus flinched as she drew something small and silver from inside her cloak. It was a thin and polished blade.

" I don't enjoy this. " Lynne said matter-of-factly, examining the edge. "But pain is language. And you need to speak clearly. Why did you attack Harry Potter?"

Rowle's mouth went dry.

"I was ordered." he blurted. "It wasn't me-"

She met his eyes, and he stopped.

"Who?"

He swallowed hard, shaking his head.

"I can't, my brother will kill me."

She reached forward, pressing the blade gently to the bandaged stump of his ruined hand. He screamed.

"I won't ask again. "

Rowle buckled instantly, the words tumbling out of him.

"Lucius Malfoy, he ordered it. He said if I did it, my family would be taken care of, that we'd be back in favor, please, I didn't know he was targeting you as a scapegoat, I failed, please stop!"

She pulled the blade back and set it down beside her on the bed, as if finished with it. Rowle sobbed quietly, the terror still raw in his throat. Lynne stood.

"You're lucky you failed." she said, voice low. "If something happens to Harry, you will die from here onwards, I don't care who does what. "

Rowle didn't reply. He couldn't. She leaned forward slightly, her voice just above a whisper.

"Think it through… perhaps it's best you don't remember we had this conversation at all."

He nodded frantically.

She unsheathed a different wand and Septimus' eyes went wide in surprise.

"Good. Obliviate."

​

---

Lucius Malfoy's study was quiet. Too quiet. The fire crackled softly in the marble hearth, casting golden light across polished bookshelves and carved serpentine wood. An untouched glass of firewhisky sat on the edge of his desk, fogging slightly in the cool air.

He stared at the envelope before him. Thick parchment. The Lestrange seal mocking him for his failure. He had known what it was before he even opened it. Now, the photograph lay on his desk.

A terrified Draco looked in horror at the one who took the picture, face bruised, hair disheveled and wet, robes torn like he'd been left in the dark for hours, his hand red, clutched to his chest, tears in his eyes.

Lucius was paralyzed at the scene. His hands were still folded together, his knuckles pale. But his jaw was clenched, a slow pulse ticking just below the corner of his eye.

She hadn't signed it. She didn't need to. The message was clear.

Try that again, and next time, I won't return him.

His fingers slowly reached for the edge of the photograph. He turned it over. Nothing on the back. Not even a bloodstain.

"She is waging war." he muttered. "I am not prepared."

"You already started one."

Lucius looked up sharply.

The door hadn't opened. He hadn't heard anyone enter. But Thorfinn Rowle stood by the fireplace now, broad-shouldered and glaring, his dark coat damp from winter frost. His wand was still holstered, but his hand hovered too close to it for comfort.

"You sent my brother to die." Thorfinn said. "You fed him to that creature, just because you lent me some money to make my escape of azkaban."

Lucius stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve.

"I gave him a task that would have repaid your debt in full. He failed."

"You used him." Thorfinn growled. "You knew she wasn't normal. That thing-"

"That girl." Lucius interrupted, sharply. "Is very much alive. And she made her position abundantly clear. She has been smart and ruthless so far, I underestimated her."

He gestured to the photo on the desk.

"I failed to recognize she is not playing fair. I wanted to believe that she was honorable and a puppet of Dumbledore to help the boy-who-lived somehow."

Thorfinn studied his face for a moment.

"You are recognizing your mistake at least. You will not send my brother to die because of your failure. Galleons I can pay eventually, I won't pay with the life of my brother."

"Agreed, I cannot make another move on her either way for now."

Thorfinn stepped forward, eyes blazing. "So what? We let her walk through the school untouched? Pretending to be a student while she breaks bones and slits throats?"

Lucius held up a hand. "We do nothing."

Thorfinn froze. Lucius looked down at the photograph once more.

"Not yet."

There was silence. A long one.

"She doesn't know who she's dealing with, I will have vengeance for my little brother." Thorfinn muttered.

Lucius shook his head slowly.

"No." he said. "We didn't know who we were dealing with, now it's becoming clear."

Thorfinn left without a word, the door closing behind him like a final sentence.Lucius stood in the silence for several long moments, the photograph still lying face-up on his desk.

Draco's crying face stared back at him, bruised and slack, afraid. He reached forward and turned it over again, not because he couldn't bear to look, but because he needed to think. Coldly. Without the ache behind his ribs twisting his logic.

One thing was certain, he had to keep this from Narcissa. She loved the boy too much. If she knew he'd been bound and hidden, if she saw that photo, the look in her eyes would not be grief but fury. And fury, in her, was harder to stop than any curse. With a swift motion, he burned the photograph with a flick of his cane.

He'd already hidden the first wave of whispers. The ones about Lynne's duel. The ones about the wand confiscation. Originally he was ready to go to the board of governors with the fight, blame the girl and have her expelled, it was a move that would take time and make people leave her alone.

Now that plan was scrapped, it was too risky, if Dumbledore were to deny the request to expel her, she would have plenty of time to target Draco, or even Narcissa to get to him. She knew who orchestrated the attack.

No, having her at Hogwarts was better, occupied with playing friends with the boy-who-lived and not hunting the Malfoy family down. No one could ever know how deeply he had miscalculated. And yet… he had. Lynne Volant wasn't a girl. She was a soldier bred by the last war, skilled with sharp wit and ruthless precision.

He had already sent word to Gringotts. There were no vaults in her name. No family holdings. His contacts at the ministry informed him she had no listed bloodline in any of the pureblood registries. No estate or guardian. Nothing.

Somehow the Ministry had no record of her birth. No wand registration. No magical guardianship. Not even a signature on Hogwarts' enrollment parchment. Who had admitted her? He wondered. And why had no one asked?

He considered sending someone after her. A private team with a curse-breaker and an assassin, someone who could unravel what she was, and how to break her. But with no idea where to find her it was going to be difficult.

Every operation he thought of ended the same way, blood, backlash, Dumbledore's scrutiny. He couldn't afford that. Not now. And if she had sent that photograph, what else had she kept?

The thought made his fingers twitch, his son didn't send a letter to him these days, but he also didn't receive letters from the other families in Slytherin he would usually keep in contact with.

So Lucius concluded that he was let go by her and for some reason didn't want to tell his father what happened or worse he was obliviated. His brain went into overdrive in desperation and anxiety. He would have to come up with a solution soon. For his family.​

---

The Ravenclaw dormitory windows were letting a bit of moonlight in, casting shadows on the floor. It was here that Lynne sat, arms resting across the ledge, her fingers curled loosely against the stone. Looking out the window for some reason gave her clarity at times.

She had broken into Harry's room to watch him sleep peacefully and remind herself that she hadn't failed her mission yet. Her metal hand tapped a melody she didn't know the name of.

She closed her eyes. She could still hear the impact. The sound of Harry hitting the stone, the edge of the wooden beam splitting. Her body had moved before she thought, before she calculated. That had been new.

It was unsettling. She should have felt nothing, but she had felt something. She was trained to act without hesitation. But at that time a surge of panic went through her body. And now at times she could hear a voice, mixing in with her thoughts. It was faint but definitely not hers..

"He shouldn't have been hurt."

Her eyes snapped open.

"Not again."

She stood abruptly, her footfall louder than it should have been. She scanned the room where the two boys slept. There was nothing there, but her breath had caught, caught like a gear inside a jammed mechanism.

She pressed a hand to her temple.

" Stop ." she whispered.

The voice faded, she didn't know whose voice it was. It wasn't hers, it wasn't her master and it wasn't her mission. It was something else.

Memories of a few years of life came to her, memories that weren't hers. The shadows in the dream moved like smoke, curling through a space Lynne couldn't see clearly. She needed a recalibration soon, luckily the school year was coming to an end and she would be going back soon.

​

---

His sheets were damp with sweat, and the room was too quiet. The dormitory showed only darkness and no sounds strangely came to his senses. He would usually hear the soft snores of Anthony. He sat up slowly, rubbing at his scar. It didn't hurt. Not exactly. But it felt warm. Something was coming, and it was a rather ominous feeling.

All of a sudden cold sensation sat on his forehead. It jolted him awake in an instant and he scrambled to find his glasses. Once he had them on he saw Lynne looking at him with a worried face. She was just sitting on his bed as if that was a normal thing to do.

"Nightmare, Harry? " she whispered.

"Bloody hell, what are you doing in my room?"

"I was watching you sleep, of course." her gaze softened.

He flushed at her statement, as if nothing awkward was said.

"So what woke you up, you alright?"

He looked at her for a moment then shrugged.

"Just a dream. Since when do you break in my room to watch me sleep?"

She went thoughtful for a few seconds.

"I began after the holidays."

"You are going to wake up Anthony at some point and it's going to be awkward."

She snorted, "He sleeps like a rock, I could transfigure an elephant and have him roar like a lion and he would sleep through it. "

Harry blinked. What a strange thing to wake up to, Lynne making a joke.
​

---

"I am not saying I solve problems with a knife. I'm saying the problems stop once I use it." - Lynne probably.

 

[Lucernello]

MP: If Neville can survive Potions class, you can survive anything. Quirrell went ahead and hid a Dark Lord under a turban. If he can manage that, you can manage to hide your nerves and get through the day.

You got this.
- Luce
​

---

Chapter 8 - Short Circuit

The dream had left Harry restless. He didn't mention it during breakfast. The Hall was too loud, too normal. The clink of spoons, the rustle of owl wings, the easy chatter of students, it all grated against something inside him that just wouldn't settle.

He had barely touched his food. Hermione noticed first, she had been spending more time at the Ravenclaw table instead of her own table lately.

"Are you not hungry?"

Harry shrugged. Lynne, across the table, said nothing. But her eyes flicked up when he stood.

"Let's go." she said quietly.

They didn't need to ask where. The walk to the courtyard was silent, the wind brisk but not cruel. Frost lingered on the stone, glittering in the early light. They sat near the edge of the wall, where the sun warmed the stones just enough to be bearable.

"I had a dream the other day." Harry said finally.

Hermione leaned in. "A nightmare?" she asked.

"Maybe, it's making me feel very uneasy, like something is about to happen soon, my scar has been hurting at times as well."

"Would you like to go to the hospital wing?" Lynne asked.

"I don't think that will solve it."

"Honestly, I understand you, Harry. I'm stressing over exams too, I definitely should have begun studying hard earlier." Hermione said.

"You will do fine, Hermione. You answered all of my quizzes perfectly."

Lynne had somehow prepared exams for every class, with every topic that was covered, and even some questions that would help as extra points. Harry had tried his best but some questions were just too hard. Nevertheless Hermione had answered everything well enough but was still fussing over the oncoming exams.

While Lynne and her kept mumbling about the upcoming tests, Harry couldn't stop thinking that things were not fine and that something bad was going to happen soon. It had nothing to do with the exams, Actually he was confident he would do well enough.

They had done a lot of studying throughout the year, and even some of their housemates, like Anthony, Terry and Padma had joined them to review some of the classes, they had discovered that Lynne would answer everything that she was asked without fail. It was fun times as well and he felt that he was gaining more friends in the house of the ravens.

So why was he feeling so uneasy when everything else aside from the stone mystery was going great, he wondered. Maybe he was just tired of pretending it would sort itself out. Pretending the professors had it handled, with everything that had happened, specially the troll incident, and what Lynne told him about what happened in the forbidden forest.

Harry and Lynne went back to the common room, the fire burned low, casting long and lazy shadows against the walls. They would have two weeks of exams to worry about first before the stone, they plan to get information from Hagrid eventually while trying to get their mind focused on their education first.
​

---

The sky was bruised with clouds when they made their way to Hagrid's hut in the afternoon. The wind had picked up over the grounds, carrying with it the faint scent of wet soil. Hogwarts loomed behind them, distant and quiet as if holding its breath.

Hagrid welcomed them in with his usual booming voice, but there was something uneasy in the way his eyes flicked towards them. The inside of the hut was warm, cluttered as ever, with Fang asleep by the fire and kettle whistling on the stove.

They talked over steaming mugs of tea, the trio carefully guiding the conversation, eventually the question slipped out. Harry had been waiting to ask, unable to keep it buried.

"We know, Hagrid. We know what is behind Fluffy. We think a professor is trying to steal it, and we don't know who to go to. Do you think we should warn Dumbledore?"

Hagrid stuttered and tried to brush it off with praise for the headmaster, with the stone being safe, that no one would get past Fluffy, but it didn't take long before they had what they needed. Hagrid slipped and they now knew that several Professors had placed enchantments there.

By the time they returned to the Great hall, their minds went into overdrive trying to figure out which one of them could have motives to go after the stone and how to prepare their case to accuse them to the headmaster.

"So, several professors laid down a defense, it's not just Fluffy up there. One of them is going for the stone, I'm sure." Harry whispered.

Lynne's eyes were turned towards him, the book she had on her lap forgotten, her metal fingers were tense twitching slightly, as if her thoughts sparked restless movement in them.

"You should let me handle it."

Harry sat up straighter. "What? No. We are a team."

"I'm trained for this, Harry. It could be very dangerous."

He frowned. "That's exactly why I have to help, I cannot leave you to face this alone."

The silence after that was heavy. Lynne stared at him for a long time before finally, with the smallest trace of guilt behind her composed expression she spoke again.

"We are going to spy and get close to the person who may be working to bring back the Dark Lord. If I let you go with me, you have to follow my orders. No rushing in."

"Deal." He said without hesitation.

"That goes for you as well, Hermione."

And there was no room for discussion. That evening they spent their time trailing professors, taking their exams and taking notes. Harry's journal was now full with details of comings and goings, schedules and professors' habits.

They started with the most suspicious one, Snape. They had to follow him around with the cloak as it seemed he knew exactly where Lynne was at all times. When they couldn't gather more information other than he didn't like grading exams they moved to the others.

Harry hadn't meant to linger inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he was looking for clues on Quirrell's things. He searched through his drawers, desk and different possessions but found nothing to do with the Stone.

He got trapped when Professor Quirrel entered his office abruptly. Hiding below the cloak trapped into a corner of the room, Harry did his best to hold his breath and reduce the noise of his beating heart.

Quirrell began muttering to himself, but the words were too deliberate, too low. And there was no stammer.

"I have done what you asked." the professor said, his voice strained. "The girl was just too aware, I couldn't kill her, she is too dangerous. She knows something, she keeps watching me wherever I go."

Harry froze, every nerve buzzing.

"I ordered you to remove her!" came the answer. It wasn't Quirrell, it was colder, sharper. Like glass dragged over marble, yet barely louder than a whisper. "You should have killed her already."

A silence stretched, and Harry could hear only the faintest rustle of cloth, he also saw Quirrell shifting, almost trembling.

"I… I will try again."

"No, we focus on the plan now. One girl won't stop us. You will kill her if she stands in our way. We will go for the stone soon, then we can deal with other problems."

"As you say, master."

Harry waited, heart pounding, trying to slow his fast paced breathing, doing his best not to do a single movement. His mind racing, after a few seconds, Quirrell left his office, for Harry it felt like an eternity. He waited for a moment to make sure he was not coming back and quietly left the office, then hurried down in search of his friends.
​

---

They were halfway up the castle stairs when Lynne felt the shift behind them. She turned her head and in a blink of an eye, had her wand ready in the face of an older student, falling into step beside her, hands tucked into his cloak pockets, his expression unconcerned under the pale hue of Lynne's wand.

"Busy evening?" he asked, glancing between the three of them.

Harry blinked. "Do we know you?"

"Hi." Hermione offered, awkwardly.

He ignored them and looked at Lynne who was now lowering her wand, clearly assessing he was not a threat.

"I've been meaning to talk to you."

Lynne stared back for a moment.

"Must it be now, Fowler?" she asked.

"I'm not here to throw stones." he said. "You've had enough of that lately."

He gave a short breath of laughter, not mocking, just tired.

"Look. I know how Ravenclaws talk, they like being right, they like order and competition. And when someone doesn't fit, we cut them out and call it logic."

Harry frowned slightly, still anxious as they still had to go tell Professor Flitwick about Quirrell. Lynne kept her eyes on him, studying.

"I remember when they started whispering about me." Virgil added, softer now. "After what happened to my family, I tried to do my best, but I was made an outcast ."

His voice dropped lower, but there was steel underneath it.

"They never expected me to outlast and ignore everyone. But it has been lonely, which is why I wanted to offer you my support, as I would have wanted myself when I entered school."

A long pause made the silence uncomfortable.

Lynne's eyes flicked toward him, just briefly.

"I already have friends." she said.

"Yes, but why not more? I could be of assistance." he replied.

They didn't shake hands, or vows. No awkward smiles to seal the deal. Lynne just nodded in quiet understanding.

"Then if you want to support us, we would use help convincing professor Flitwick, we are on our way to his office, something dangerous is happening on school grounds."

"Lead the way then, no need to explain." he answered.

Having an older student with them might push the odds of being taken seriously in their favor, and Harry was happy to have a new friend in their group. They were friendly with most of their housemates but they had kept their distance because they were scared of Lynne. This lifted the group's unease for a bit.

The now four member group headed for Flitwick's office with haste. They now had evidence and they were ready to let the professor know of the danger. Maybe he could also notify Professor Dumbledore.

The corridor outside Professor Flitwick's office felt colder than usual, the torches flickering with jittery orange light as Harry, Hermione, Lynne and Virgil stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the carved oak door. None of them spoke at first.

Hermione shifted her weight, fidgeting with her hands. "He'll listen. He has to."

Virgil nodded, more reserved. "He always says students should speak up if they're troubled. He means it… I think."

Harry glanced at Lynne, whose expression remained unreadable. She wasn't fidgeting or pacing like the rest of them, just watching the door with that calm intensity she always had before something big happened.

Harry raised a hand and knocked.

A moment later, the door swung open and Professor Flitwick appeared, blinking behind his tiny spectacles. "Oh! Goodness, what a crowd. Come in, come in."

They filed inside, the room was cozy and stacked high with books. Enchanted instruments quietly humming from the shelves. A kettle whistled in the corner as Flitwick waved his wand to silence it.

"To what do I owe this visit?" he asked, hopping onto a cushion behind his desk. "It's not often I get a delegation from my own house and a lion with them."

Harry took a breath. "Professor, we think Professor Quirrell is going to steal what's being guarded on the third floor, the philosopher's stone is not safe."

Flitwick blinked surprised. "Pardon?"

"We've put the pieces together." Hermione said quickly. "We know what is being stored in the castle, safe behind enchantments provided by several Professors, but what if one of you knows about them already and how to get past them?"

Lynne didn't speak, but she stared straight at Flitwick. Her silence made her point louder than words.

"We even heard him talk about it, we spied on several Professors and Quirrell was talking to a voice I didn't recognize. He must be the one behind the troll attack as well!" Harry continued.

Flitwick raised a hand gently. "I understand you're worried, I do. And if what you said is correct and Professor Quirrell is trying to steal the stone, he is going to face more resistance than he anticipated. Hogwarts has layers of magical protections, very powerful ones. Besides Professor Dumbledore himself added an enchantment of his own to protect the stone. It will keep it safe I assure you."

"But what if he knows how to get past them already?" Harry asked. "What if he manages to get it for Voldemort?"

Flitwick recoiled at the mention of the dark lord. "This is not something for students to involve themselves in." a hint of steel entering his little voice.

Virgil was shocked at the revelation of what was being kept at the school, and how a couple of first years had come up with what was going on at the third corridor, and that it was much more dangerous than he originally expected. And now he looked visibly deflated.

"Sir, what if the students are the ones in danger as well? What happens if Quirrell is indeed working to get the stone and is frustrated? What if he takes a kid with him to face the protections?"

Flitwick gave him a long look. "Then the professors will protect them, and no one should be after curfew at all, you shouldn't worry until Professor Dumbledore comes tomorrow. We can explain to him everything you said and we can see what he decides to do with this information."

"If he is gone, then we are all in danger, Professors included."

Flitwick adjusted his spectacles. "He had an emergency meeting, he will be back in the morning and we can resolve this. This conversation is over, I won't have rumours or accusations. I suggest you all return to your dormitories and leave this to the staff."

They stood to go, but as soon as Virgil got up a flash of light erupted from his pocket. Blinding all of them momentarily. When Harry regained his sight he saw a small pebble that was shining red as if it had been heated in an oven.

"Ugh, sorry Professor. I forgot I had that in my pocket, the Wesley twins pranked me with one of those things and I thought I had deactivated it."

With a small wave Flitwick dismissed them. The news obviously made the group desperate, that meant that Quirrell was moving tonight, and their own head of House was not taking them seriously.

As they were about to return Virgil approached Lynne and whispered something in her ear and placed something in her hands, Harry couldn't see well what it was. Then marched to the common room leaving the trio behind.

"He gave me my wand back." Lynne said finally with a smile on her face.

Harry looked hopeful for the first time in hours. "I don't think we can wait any longer. Dumbledore is not in the castle, it's going to be tonight. Quirrell is going to try to get the stone."

"We will stop him." Said Hermione. "I will sneak out of my common room and meet you guys close to the third floor."

She quickly left, leaving the pair of Harry and Lynne to review what could be the enchantments placed by each Professor.
​

---

The torches lining the third-floor hallway flickered with nervous firelight as Harry and Lynne waited outside the forbidden floor near the stairs, their breath quiet and their ears tuned to the emptiness around them.

Footsteps echoed fast from the far end of the corridor. Hermione emerged from the shadows, slightly out of breath, her wand gripped tightly in one hand.

"You're late." Harry whispered.

"I had to petrify Weasley." she said, brushing hair from her eyes.

"You what?" Harry blinked.

"He wanted to follow me." Hermione huffed. "He was pacing in the common room with that look, you know the one, and I knew he was going to sneak after me. So I used the Full Body-Bind Curse. He's fine. I propped him up near the fireplace and left a note apologizing."

"You left a note?" Harry muttered.

"I was in a rush!"

Lynne tilted her head. "You could've stunned him. Faster."

Hermione frowned. "That's a bit much."

Lynne gave a shrug, unbothered. "Depends how long you want him out of the way."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Alright. Let's just hope he doesn't find us later."

Hermione took a breath and looked at the locked door. "We're really doing this."

"We are." Lynne said simply, her voice calm and firm.

They crept through the silent corridor under the cloak's cover, their footsteps muffled by Lynne's careful enchantments. The door to the forbidden corridor on the third floor loomed ahead like a secret too big to stay hidden. It was cooler than the rest of the castle, and unnaturally quiet.

Their footsteps echoed faintly on the stone floor, every breath sounding louder than it should in the charged silence. As they approached the end of the hall, the distant sound of soft harp music drifted toward them like a lullaby forgotten by time.

Harry opened it quietly. The low growl of the three-headed dog rumbled like distant thunder. Fluffy stirred, but he was sleeping soundly.

The enormous three-headed dog lay coiled, its bulk enough to fill half the chamber. The beast's fur was dark and matted in places, more bear than dog in sheer mass, and each massive head rose and fell in rhythm with the others. Drool pooled beneath its three muzzles, nostrils flaring slightly with each snore.

Despite its fearsome reputation, the creature looked… oddly peaceful. A golden harp stood just beside the platform, gently plucking its own strings without aid. An enchantment, clearly.

Lynne's eyes narrowed. "Someone's already been here." she whispered.

"The music, someone enchanted the harp." Hermione added, stepping lightly closer. "Must've been Quirrell. He left it playing to keep the dog asleep."

Harry couldn't help but stare. Even asleep, Fluffy was terrifying. One wrong move, one broken note, and those massive heads could wake in an instant. The size of its paws alone could shatter ribs.

"How do you even keep something like that fed?" he muttered.

"I don't think you ask questions like that at Hogwarts." Lynne replied quietly, checking the shadows. "We need to move before the spell fades."

They approached the trapdoor. Hermione was already crouching down, inspecting it. "It's quite dark down there, I cannot see the bottom." she murmured, fingers tracing the heavy iron latch.

"I'll go first." she said. "Wait for my go." She knelt, wand in hand.

Lynne looked down, then without hesitation swung her legs over and dropped into the darkness below. She gave them a soft reply to come down.

The harp gave a faint stutter, one note faltered and then the music stopped. Harry and Hermione froze. One of Fluffy's ears twitched. A massive paw shifted.

"Hurry." Harry hissed. "Jump."

A dark void yawned beneath them, air rushing up cold and damp. They landed on something soft. As they landed blue fire engulfed them and they fell once more to the floor.

"What was that?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Devil's Snare." Hermione said "Or what is left of it."

The plant had recoiled instantly, some of its tendrils burning.

They heard in the distance the sound of flaps, like a swarm of birds. But when they approached the next room, they saw they were keys, enchanted winged ones that shimmered in the torchlight like darting stars. A single broom in the middle of the room.

"I assume we have to get the key to this door. It must be one of those." Harry said.

"Alohomora." Hermione tried the spell on the door but it didn't work.

"I see it."

Lynne jumped first, grabbing the broom without hesitation.

"I'll get it." she said, eyes narrowed.

She was immediately attacked by the swarm of keys as she took off. She batted them away with one hand while accelerating for the one she saw as the right one. It was an old key that had an injured wing. She weaved between the flitting shapes with surgical precision, catching the old key in a clean snatch before dropping it into Harry's hand.

"Go."

Harry quickly tried it and the locked door swung open. They moved inside as Lynne let go of the broom midair and landed with a loud thumping noise. The keys seemed to only attack the one on top of the broom and they began flying idly as she hopped off.

They closed the door leaving the keys behind.
​

---

The next room was a massive chamber stretched out before them in black and white marble, polished to a mirror shine. Towering chess pieces stood motionless on either side of the board, each carved from stone and exuding a silent menace. The air was colder here. The only sound was the faint echo of their footsteps as they stepped into the room.

A heavy click resounded behind them, the door sealed shut.

"A real-life game." Harry whispered. "This is a transfiguration spell."

"We have to play." Hermione said, stepping forward and studying the pieces. "We have to take the places of real chess pieces."

"Which ones?" Harry asked, but Lynne had already stepped onto a square.

"Knight. Duro." she said simply, drawing her wand and tapping her shoulder. Her robes shimmered and darkened, almost like armor.

Harry took the bishop's position, and Hermione the rook's. The board came to life with a grinding of stone on stone. The opposing black pieces stirred, silent, watchful as the game began.

It wasn't fast. Every move mattered. Hermione's lips were tight with focus, Harry's hands balled at his sides between turns, and Lynne advised both of them regularly. Her knight's role came with the brunt of battle.

The first piece she struck was a bishop. Her spell split it cleanly down the center. When the enemy retaliated, the rook came down like a hammer. Lynne blocked it mid-swing with a shield charm, her body thrown back across the square. Her metal limbs sparked where she hit the stone but held.

She stood, blood trickled from her hairline. Harry gasped, she wiped it away and prepared to defend again, the piece failed to break her so now it was just looking for a fight.

"We're cornered, I'm not good at this." Hermione breathed in panic.

Lynne raised her wand, casting a glance at Harry. "I've had enough of this."

Before they could stop her, she took three steps forward.

"Bombarda."

The spell struck the white queen, causing an explosion that sent shards of stone flying. The queen was obliterated, leaving a smoking pair of legs in its place. The remaining white pieces hesitated, as if reconsidering their programmed responses.

Hermione gasped. "Lynne, you're not supposed to-"

"Bombarda!" Lynne interrupted, already targeting the next piece. Another explosion, another piece destroyed.

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances but said nothing. The path was being cleared, albeit unconventionally. With the opposing side in disarray, they just stood while Lynne unleashed spell after spell.

The remaining white pieces froze, then bowed, acknowledging defeat. Lynne lowered her wand, smoke curling from its tip.

"Let's go."

They went into the next room, a troll lay dead, and the smell was foul. This turned Lynne's look to one of concern. She kept going forward and the pair followed.

The next chamber was cold and narrow, the walls lined with tall, empty shelves and a single table in the center. Upon it stood seven glass bottles of varying sizes and colors, each marked with a tiny rune.

A scroll sat beside them, inked in flowing script. Hermione stepped forward and scanned it quickly.

"It's a riddle." she murmured. "Logic, not magic."

Harry wiped blood from his cheek, eyes darting between the bottles and Lynne, who stood perfectly still, already scanning their placement, the candlelight catching the worn edges of her coat.

"We have to pick the right potion to go forward." Hermione said, thinking aloud. "Only one lets us through the black fire ahead. Another will send us safely back."

Lynne didn't speak. She stared at the bottles as if seeing through them. After a moment, she pointed to the third on the left.

"This one lets you through."

Hermione blinked. "Are you sure? We haven't even-"

"I'm sure."

Harry stepped forward, but Lynne turned to block him.

"You'll drink the one that takes you back, which is this one." she said, pointing to another bottle.

"No." His voice cracked slightly. "We're not leaving you."

"You've done enough, think about what the dead troll means." she replied, not unkindly.

"You said I could help. That I could stay."

Lynne looked at him for a long moment. Then, softly, "You've already helped more than I ever expected. But I cannot know for sure I can protect you in there."

Hermione's lip trembled. "You don't have to go alone."

"I do." she said. "And I will."

Before either of them could react, she lifted her wand and whispered a word neither of them caught. A soft shimmer, like falling snow, drifted over them both.

Harry's eyes went wide. "Lynne, what did you-?"

The world tilted. His limbs went heavy.

Hermione's voice slurred "No…wait…"

And then, both of them collapsed gently against the far wall, asleep, safe. Lynne stepped back. Her hands trembled, just for a moment, then steadied again. She took the third potion and drank. She stepped through the black fire, and into peril.
​

---

She came through the flames like a ghost, silent and unburnt. Her eyes fixed on him with a focus that made Quirrell's breath catch. He was trying to figure out how to extract the stone from the Mirror, that cursed headmaster had placed all of those defenses to annoy him, the cursed artifact was the real challenge, nothing more.

He knew that she was following him, and thus was not surprised that she was the one who would come after him that same night. But something about her today was totally wrong, her sharp eyes were trained on him, her wand ready and a curse soon left her lips.

He straightened and evaded, surprised at first then angry at the small brat. They traded a few spells before both paused for a breath, calculating.

"Brave of you to come alone." he said, letting the smoothness return to his voice.

She didn't answer, just kept her arm raised, her wand glowing softly.

"You had so much potential for a first year, I will give you that, but your foolishness led you here, and now you will die."

He unleashed a fury of spells, cutting, reductor and different curses meant to pierce her shields and deal enough damage to slowly take her down. He felt the twist of annoyance flare in his chest.

"Expulso!"

The blast scorched towards her, a quick, cracking explosion that had dropped more than one target before, learnt from Antonov himself. But she moved like water, darting to the side, metal limbs hitting the ground with a harsh scrape.

She retaliated instantly, three spells in quick succession, no flash and no flourish.

"Confringo, Diffindo, Depulso."

Quirrell blocked and ducked but the third caught his sleeves again making him spin in his place. He stumbled but didn't fall.

"Sloppy." his master growled.

"I'm trying, master, she is too quick." he snapped under his breath.

She was already circling, no words said, he felt she was not dueling a student, much less a first year, as he deflected another cutting curse.

"Reducto!" He lashed out again, aiming for her center but she evaded with ease.

"I will handle her." he heard.

"You are not strong enough for this, mast-" he was interrupted as a yellow curse smashed against his shields and threw him backwards.

He felt his body slowly stop responding to him. He was now a passenger in his own body as his master stood and started throwing curses and transfiguring the stone of the now broken floor, attacking the girl relentlessly. He finally caught her with debris and then a Banishing spell sent her flying against the steps of the room.

She didn't scream, but landed hard, falling across the marble, one leg beneath her bent in the wrong direction. She stood up still even after the hard hit and he felt his master frustration deepen. A black liquid dripped to the ground where she stood.

"You are a formidable foe, for a first year, but you are nothing against me. Crucio!"

Damn, there is no escaping now, he thought, if the castle wards were active correctly, then an unforgivable inside it's walls would be detected easily. But as he was lost in planning ahead, he felt fear and confusion from his master.

He looked ahead and the girl was not screaming and she was barely twitching, in fact she had raised her wand again, conjuring multiple butterflies that seemed to fly harmlessly in front of her.

"Clever. But that won't save you."

"Rubescens." the girl whispered and her butterflies turned scarlet red.

"Avada Kedavra!" The killing curse bolted from his wand but the green curse was intercepted by one of those butterflies, falling to the ground in the process.

"Expelliarmus, Confringo." she retaliated, but his body evaded the spells once more

"Expulso."

Her butterflies now blown away by the explosion wouldn't shield her anymore. But as he thought his master would finish her, he felt his body again and quickly realized, his master lost control of his body, he was too weak now. It was up to him.

"Confringo." The explosion spell caught her stuck leg, throwing shards of metal in all directions and sending the girl to the floor once again and finally she did not stand back up.

He was about to use a reductor curse on her just to be sure when movement on the top of the stairs caught his attention. A gasp escaped from his mouth. The boy.
​

---

Harry's head throbbed. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. The chamber around him was still and silent, the flicker of torchlight casting uneven shadows across the stone. The cold had sunk into his skin, his limbs felt heavy, like they were wrapped in fog.

Then he remembered the spell that put him to sleep and how Lynne went there by herself. He jolted upright and saw that Hermione still lay beside him, breathing slow and steady, unconscious but unharmed. Her wand had rolled a few inches away, and he pushed it gently back into her hand before standing.

He tried to wake her up but no matter how much he shook her, she wouldn't open her eyes. The black flames were still there and the potion that Lynne had taken now was refilled. He thought that it made sense as Quirrell had probably gone inside already and they still had the potions for them to pass as well.

"We are coming back for you." He whispered to Hermione and drank the potion.

He went through the flames, stepping through. What he found on the other side stopped him cold. The air stank of smoke and burnt oil, the room was a ruin of shattered stone and scorched walls, a wand lay abandoned on the steps on the floor. He spotted Quirrell wand in hand, breathing heavily, and Lynne on the ground, there was what seemed to be blood scattered through the floor.

She was missing a leg from the knee down, her coat was torn and her hair was stuck to the side of her face. He could see that one of her hands was trembling against the floor as if trying to push herself up.

"Lynne!" Harry called rushing forward.

Quirrell moved, stopping him.

"You." the professor said, voice low and cold. "You will help me get the stone." Quirrell stepped closer.

"I should thank you." He murmured. "Come, stand in front of the mirror. Now!"

Harry didn't move as he reached out. He was about to grab him by his shoulder and Harry didn't think, just reacted. He raised his arm to block, trying to bat Quirrell's hand away. His hand grazed Quirrel's skin and that small contact sent the Professor screaming. It sounded almost inhuman.

Quirrell jerked back like he'd touched molten metal, his skin blistered, his wrist twisted violently and he was gasping in pain, as his hand was reduced to ashes. His wand was forgotten on the floor.

Harry stood frozen, breathing hard, the training with Lynne finally kicking in, his wand was now in his hand. He was about to stun Quirrell when behind him, he heard a sound, the scrape of metal and as he turned he saw Lynne dragging herself upright, blood streaking behind her. Her voice came through clenched teeth.

"Step aside, Harry."

Harry sidestepped and Quirrell barely had time to look up. Her spell hit him full-force. He was thrown across the chamber, crashing into the far wall with a crack that echoed like thunder. For a moment everything was still, then a sound, low angry and unnatural whispered across the stones.

A shadow peeled itself from Quirrell's fallen body, it had only a face, no edges, just shape, chill and malice. A guttural scream escaping its form.

Harry couldn't move, his mind realizing the terrible truth. Voldemort was inside the professor all along and that thing now turned to them, looking angry, finally passing through him like smoke. A wave of dread and desperation filled him. He didn't scream but he felt it in his chest, cold, heavy and terrible.

He was thrown back and landed hard on the floor. As his consciousness slipped away he saw that Lynne was on the floor again. His eyes felt so heavy, but at the last moment of clarity he heard footsteps, fast and urgent. He saw robes being swept through the broken steps like a wind chasing the dark.

His mind realized Professor Dumbledore came back, then everything went dark.
​

---

Lynne's head rolled slightly to one side as consciousness slipped away again, the echo of that cold still clinging to her ribs. In the haze behind her eyelids, she saw flashes of images. A red butterfly on stone, the glint of silver arms raised in defiance.

Lynne felt the weightless drift of unconsciousness, yet her mind was wide awake, pulled violently through half-shapes and moments that weren't hers. A cradle's lullaby, then a girl's hand, small and trembling, reaching for light. Someone calling a name, but not hers, over and over again. A man with blood on his hands begging the world to stop turning.

'Where am I? Who is this? Why does it hurt?' She wondered. Faces flickered in the dark, soft and human, full of warmth she didn't understand. A woman, perhaps? Mother? It couldn't be, she didn't have one.

A rush of color blurred her vision. Then more memory fragments invaded her mind, sharper this time. She saw herself running barefoot down a hallway. A laugh that ended in a scream, then hands, too many hands, holding her down. Then all came crashing down, a final spell followed by silence.

Lynne gasped in the void, though her body didn't move. Her mind clawed for something familiar, something real. After what felt like eternity, she finally heard familiar footsteps, heavy and measured. A figure emerged from the mist, tall and robbed, his face obscured by shadows. She recognized that shape, her mentor.

She remembered the sound of his voice like a ticking metronome, cold and precise. The way he corrected her posture with a nod while going through the many lessons he taught her. Or when he guided her on how to disassemble and assemble her arms and legs. Briefly she swore she heard him speak. "I made you to endure, now get up."

She could finally relax, feeling confident that everything would work out. In this dreamscape, he knelt before her.

"Focus." he said. "You are our purpose."

The voices quieted. The chaos receded. Lynne reached out, as if to touch the edge of his cloak, anything to stay grounded, and the moment shattered. The dream blurred into comfortable white and she finally woke up. Her first thoughts going to her mission.

"Harry?" She asked as she opened her eyes.
​

---

"If you want to keep a Dark Lord on your head, at least wear a helmet. Cloth doesn't help with the snowballs." – Lynne tips

 

[Lucernello]

Chapter 9 - Protocol

Harry woke to the sound of birdsong and the distant clatter of teacups. At first, he wasn't sure where he was. Everything was bright, too bright. And the air smelled like mint and antiseptic. His vision blurred, swimming in soft light, until shapes resolved into the tall, arched windows of the Hogwarts hospital wing.

He lay beneath crisp white sheets. His chest ached when he breathed too deeply, and his right arm tingled as if he strained it. His glasses rested neatly on the nightstand beside him, next to a bottle of Wiggenweld potion and a strip of chocolate from Madam Pomfrey. A small enchanted plant on the windowsill leaned toward the sunlight, its petals slowly opening and closing like it was asleep.

The ceiling above him was painted with soft charms to mimic the weather outside. Today, it showed a warm spring sky streaked with drifting clouds.

Harry blinked again, suddenly remembering what happened. His thoughts went immediately to Lynne. He sat up too quickly and a wave of dizziness crashed through him, dropping him back onto the bed.

"Ahh. Easy there, my boy." came the calm and unmistakable voice of Professor Dumbledore beside him.

Harry turned his head to find the Headmaster standing up beside his bed, with robes of exotic colours, his hands clasped over his glasses and a small book. His blue eyes twinkled behind the spectacles, though there was a weight in them today, probably concerned for him or what happened.

"You've had quite the adventure, Harry." Dumbledore said softly. "You don't mind if I Take a bit of candy, don't you, my boy?" He said pointing at an arrangement of boxes sitting at the end of the bed.

Harry looked surprised at the amount of magical candy left there.

"Tokens, from your admirers."

"Admirers? Wait. Lynne." Harry croaked. "Where is she? Is she alright?"

"She is alive, if you can consider her as such." Dumbledore answered. Picking a small bean from one of the boxes. "Resting. Her injuries were… considerable. But she's recovering. Thanks, I imagine, to her own nature more than anything else."

Harry slumped back, allowing that to sink in. The sharp edges of memories were starting to return to him. The Stone, Quirrell, the cold shadow that passed through them, that unbearable weight in his chest. And now the feeling that Voldemort was not truly gone.

"The Stone." Harry said. "What happened to it?"

Dumbledore's gaze turned toward the window for a moment, as if weighing how much truth to give.

"He was not able to take it. The Mirror of Erised served its purpose exactly as it was meant to. Only someone who wanted to find the Stone, but not use it, could retrieve it. I already called for my friend Nicholas to come pick it up, for safekeeping."

Harry then looked down, relaxing a bit for the first time since he woke up.

"I couldn't stop him. He-he was already there. And Lynne… she-"

"You did stop him, Harry." Dumbledore said firmly. "You and miss Volant both. Professor Quirrell is gone though, and what possessed him has fled, set back for now."

Harry swallowed. "It was Voldemort, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Dumbledore said simply.

The word hung in the air, like a crack in the ceiling no one could fix. Dumbledore stood and walked slowly to the foot of Harry's bed.

"What happened in that chamber between you and Quirell is a secret, so naturally, the whole castle knows." he said with a jesting tone.

Harry processed that in silence. Rumours had not been kind this year.

"And Lynne?" he asked again, softer now. "Will she be alright?"

Dumbledore's face softened. "That is a question I cannot fully answer. She is unique, carrying more than most students ever should." There was a feeling of regret in his voice.

"She asked for you as soon as she woke up." Dumbledore added. "But I believe you will see her for the end of term feast."

Harry nodded slowly, his thoughts turning inward. He had so many questions and doubts, having been told the dark lord was not gone and probably looking to murder him in the future was heavy enough weight in his mind.

"Professor." he said after a long pause. "Why me? And why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

Dumbledore paused, contemplating "It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark. It is embedded in your very skin. That is why, Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you. The short answer is love, Harry."

Harry didn't quite understand, but he nodded anyway. As Professor Dumbledore exited the hospital wing he briefly thought on his words. His mother probably used some risky magic in order to keep him safe in her last moments.

Harry leaned back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted again. The spring sun warmed the sheets. As he began to drift back to sleep, his thoughts turned to Hermione as well, hopefully she was alright.
​

---

Madam Pomfrey had insisted on keeping him until his sleep was no longer "full of twitching and muttering." but he had argued that he was fine and he was let go earlier.

The first person to greet him outside the infirmary was Lynne, who hugged him tighter than he expected and somehow had recovered faster than him, her limbs reattached or fixed, he wasn't sure. He was not used to her giving those acts of affection but it was comforting at least. Then she checked him over, and once she was sure he was fine, she smiled at him.

"I'm glad you are alright, Harry." she said simply.

He was about to ask her about her recovery when Hermione appeared round the corner and lunged pulling him into a crushing hug. Her bushy hair smashing at his face as he laughed.

"You look awful." she said, which was her way of saying I'm glad you're alive.

"I'm sure I look Dashing." He teased.

He looked around, remembering what he had meant to ask but Lynne was looking somewhere else, staring at something in the distance. For him, she looked a bit lost in the moment and hesitated. He was brought back from his thoughts by an anxious Hermione.

"We still have the last week of classes." Hermione said. "I'm still nervous about my exams."

Harry chuckled. "Of course, that's what you are worried about."

She glared at him and he laughed harder.

The rhythm had returned to Hogwarts, they had a few classes where they were handed their marksheets. He had done well, and only in History of Magic he didn't have an Outstanding, Binns probably didn't know his name so he was skeptical of his mark. It was still a passing grade so in the end he didn't really care and one hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons was not really important in the long run.

He had done well with the charms exams, attributing animation to an inanimate object was not hard for him and turning a mouse into a snuff box for Transfiguration had been just as easy.

In Potions admittedly he got help from Lynne by using the pocket watch and he was sure he made the forgetfulness potion perfectly, but he was still surprised Professor Snape actually marked him with an O.

Students whispered about their own marks, sharing them with one another. The Quidditch cup was somehow won by Slytherin because even though Ravenclaw won their last match, it was not by the difference in points that they needed. The castle was brimming with rumours about him as well, and the disappearance of Professor Quirrell.

Something that stood out was that Lynne was silent almost the entire week, and she still had that lost look from time to time which was unnerving.

"She's back in the dorms," Hermione said quietly. "But she… hasn't really been speaking to anyone. Not even the Ravenclaws."

"I know." replied Harry.

They walked the halls together, watching students carry armfuls of books and broomsticks, laughing about house points and year-end pranks. His thoughts still with his friend.

That evening, Dumbledore stood at the front of the Great Hall. The long tables were decked in house banners, the candlelight soft above their heads. The usual Hogwarts ceremony atmosphere hung in the air, similar to the welcoming or Halloween feasts. A speech followed congratulating everyone for another year gone by.

Then came the Awards. Ravenclaw had the most house points, followed very closely by Slytherin with only 5 points difference, the closest in history, having won the Quidditch cup they almost got first place.

"This year, Ravenclaw has won the House Cup, with intellect, discipline, and resilience." Dumbledore said.

A quiet ripple of applause followed, the Ravenclaw table clapping politely but proudly. He turned toward the students seated at that long table, eyes lingering on Lynne for only the briefest moment.

"For services rendered in the protection of this school." he said, "I would also like to acknowledge four students: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Virgil Fowler" A pause. "And Lynne Volant."

Harry smiled awkwardly at people looking at him, he glanced down the table at her. Lynne sat still, her arms folded, her head bowed slightly, her food untouched, gaze lost.

The room clapped, not as loud as it could have been, although Dumbledore had said that everyone knew what happened, he saw that many were not aware of why they were being awarded with mentions at his speech.

After the meal, students filed out toward their dormitories. Harry, Hermione, and Virgil hung back a little longer near the courtyard arch, watching the twilight creep in through the stained-glass windows.

"She hasn't been the same since. I'm worried." Virgil said, quietly.

Harry looked at him.

Virgil glanced toward the far end of the Hall, where Lynne had just slipped out the side door alone. "She smiles too much. And then not at all. It's like watching someone stuck between dreams."

Hermione frowned. "Maybe she's… recovering."

"From what you told me, having to fight for her life might have shocked her." Virgil replied. "So you might be right."

Harry didn't argue, although he also had a few nightmares that week. He didn't want to feel guilty, but having killed someone with his hand hadn't settled in his mind yet.

That night, at the Ravenclaw tower, Harry saw Lynne standing by the window alone, staring out across the grounds. The Quidditch pitch was empty now, the banners taken down.

Only the moon cast its light in stripes across the floor. Behind her, her trunk sat already packed.
​

---

The platform at Hogsmeade Station was buzzing with its usual end-of-term chaos.

Trunks clattered, owls hooted from their cages, and Prefects shouted instructions to first years trying to wrestle their bags into position. The scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express hissed as it readied for departure, clouds of white steam curling around students' legs like fog.

Harry stood near the rear of the train, clutching Hedwig's cage in one hand and his trunk handle in the other. Lynne without saying a word, had cast a charm that made it light-weight.

Hermione was already on board, waving from a window. Virgil had disappeared into one of the forward carriages, muttering something about avoiding loud compartments. And Lynne wasn't boarding yet.

He spotted her standing a few steps back from the train, half-lost in the crowd, her butterfly circling around her hair. She wore her coat despite the warmth, the sleeves long enough to conceal her metal arms entirely. Her eyes were fixed on the engine, like she wasn't sure whether it was a train or a threat.

Harry approached her carefully. "You coming?"

She blinked, slowly, and turned to him. Her expression was calm, but wrong. It was almost a fully detached look. Her mouth smiled, but her eyes looked dead.

"I was waiting." she said softly.

"For what?"

"For my mentor to help me."

He frowned. "Isn't he supposed to come pick you up when we arrive?"

"Yes, he will probably be waiting for me when we arrive." she said, and then, after a pause, "Do you need help?"

Harry shook his head and slowly placed his hands on her back, guiding her into the train, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to ask. She climbed on without looking back.

They found a quiet space at the back of the train, near the window, with no other students around. Hermione joined them a few minutes later, bringing cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties she had bartered for.

It should have felt like before, their usual banter, the easy comfort of friends riding home after a long school year. But it didn't.

Harry watched Lynne out of the corner of his eye. She sat with her chin propped on her hand, watching the countryside slide by. Sometimes she smiled, not at anything in particular. Just smiled. Then stopped.

She laughed when Harry joked about the Slytherin team losing every match next year, but then she went quiet and stared at the wall for five straight minutes afterward, completely still.

They talked about what they would do during summer vacations. Harry was not too keen on staying with his relatives. When Hermione asked what she'd be doing over the summer, Lynne answered.

"I'll wait. My mentor will either give me a new Mission or I will follow my current one."

Hermione frowned. "Mission?"

She didn't answer her and just stared at her. Harry tried to smooth it over. "She means staying safe, from what I know." Lynne didn't correct him.

Outside, the landscape rolled past in fields of green and gold, the sun drifting west. Harry leaned his forehead against the window and let the rhythm of the tracks calm his nerves.

"You know, I could visit." she offered suddenly.

Harry blinked. "My aunt and uncle won't like it, I'm not sure."

Lynne didn't seem deterred though. She just nodded. "I will visit anyway. If I'm still functional."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm losing functionality because I used a lot of myself in the fight." she said. "I'm in need of recalibration to ensure that I'm fully functional."

Hermione set down her book, suddenly pale. "I never wanted to ask because it seemed rude, but are you actually a robot?"

"What is a robot?" Lynne asked.

"Like... a machine, not human."

"I'm not a machine. But you don't have to worry about it, I'll be fine."

Harry leaned forward. "Are you sure?"

"I am." Lynne said. "He told me so."

The silence that followed was dense questions none of them dared to ask. The train rolled on.

When the conductor called for final preparations, Hermione reached out and squeezed Lynne's hand, metal and warm under her palm.

The train had been moving for hours. Outside the windows, the countryside passed in lazy streaks of green and gold. The occasional field blurred into woodland, and beyond that, hills rolled like sleeping giants under a soft sky. Inside the compartment, the heat had settled into a quiet warmth. Harry had stopped tracking time.

Hermione had dozed off with her head against the glass, a book forgotten on her lap. The soft sound of the train on the rails was rhythmic, almost soothing.

Harry kept glancing across the seat at Lynne. She was still. Perfectly still. Elbows resting on the windowsill, gaze unfocused, metal fingers curled slightly in her lap like clockwork between pulses.

Then without warning, she turned to him, her eyes lit up.

"Isn't it lovely?" she said brightly, her voice several degrees higher than usual. "The train, the sky, the smell of sugar from the trolley. I want candy."

Harry stared. She leaned toward him like someone gossiping about a crush.

"I saw a bird fly alongside the train earlier, it was red, with little speckles. I think it winked at me. Do birds wink?"

She laughed. Am actual real laugh, even if it sounded coerced and rough, it felt light and fluttery.

"I…" Harry hesitated. "I don't think so?"

"Hmm!" she said, then clapped her hands, a metal ring clinked against her wrist and she giggled again. "Oh, I hope we have a layover! I want to find a sweets cart and get those purple licorice things. What are they called?"

Harry was frozen. Hermione stirred slightly and mumbled something, then fell back asleep.

Lynne didn't seem to notice. She stood up suddenly and leaned into the corridor, humming a song Harry didn't recognize, she looked almost childish. She was smiling, but the smile didn't fit, it was even more strange coming from her.

"Lynne?" he asked quietly.

She turned toward him, beaming. "Yes?"

"What… are you doing?"

"Just stretching my legs, silly. You have to stretch after sitting for too long or you'll go stiff. I also want candy..."

She paused. Frowned and the smile dropped. She blinked once, twice, and sat down again, slowly, like something rewinding inside her. She stared at her hands. Her metal fingers. Then looked at Harry.

"What's wrong?"

He said nothing at first.

"You… were acting strange." he asked gently.

"Oh. I don't remember what I was just doing." she said. "I got up, did I?"

"You did." Harry said carefully. "You were… different."

Lynne's eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion, but in concentration.

"I've been having more gaps." she said. "Pieces missing and things out of order."

Her hand went to her temple.

Harry leaned forward. "Do you know what it is?"

"I think it's her again." she whispered.

She looked scared. That terrified Harry more than anything.

After a moment, her calm gaze returned. "My mentor surely knows how to handle it. I will be fine." Lynne added.

The moment stretched. Outside, the wind shifted, rustling the curtains ever so slightly. Then her hands curled tightly in her lap again, and she returned to staring out the window.

Will there be a time where I will understand what is going on with her? Harry wondered.
​

---

The platform at King's Cross was loud and sun-soaked, bustling with parents calling names and trunks wheeling every which way. Steam curled from the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, drifting like a farewell between the crowd.

Harry stepped off the train, Hedwig's cage in one hand and his schoolbag slung over his shoulder.

Hermione gave him a quick hug, whispering, "Write to me the moment anything happens. I will tell you about my summer when I can."

He nodded, though he wasn't sure he would be able to. Lynne had bolted the moment the train had stopped, she had said goodbye and gave them a nod. She wasn't on the platform right now so he assumed she met her mentor already.

After crossing the hidden barrier, he scanned the crowd, already bracing himself.

He sighed when he saw the barrel shape of Vernon Dursley, red-faced and impatient, checking his watch like Harry had missed an appointment. Behind him, Petunia stood as stiff as ever, squinting disapprovingly into the sea of wizard robes.

He frowned and looked again but she was nowhere to be seen. The Dursleys turned to leave and Harry had to follow. As he was entering the car however he saw her staring at him for just a second before she turned invisible. He blinked, searching for her again.

"Get a move on, boy!"

The ride to Privet Drive was annoying. Vernon grunted at him once, trying to make him feel guilty of having to come fetch him and ruining a family moment while Petunia offered him cold chicken in Tupperware like nothing had happened while Dudley snored like a pig.

Still, Harry said nothing. His thoughts were on Lynne and the strange moment on the station. He wondered where she had gone or why she had crossed to the Muggle side.

The Dursley house was just as he remembered it. Small, too beige, and too quiet. The moment they stepped inside, Vernon launched into his usual speech about rules, no talking about anything freakish, no doing any magic at all, and absolutely no owl noises at night.

Harry didn't hear half of it. Ignoring him was not the best course of action it seemed, Vernon got angry fast. His face turned into a different shade of red. As soon as Vernon closed the front door with a sharp click, he grabbed him by his collar and slammed him against the side of the staircase.

"You will listen to what I say or-"

A knock on the front door interrupted him. They all froze as the knock came again. Then a third time, much louder. Petunia stepped back and Dudley whimpered as the door burst open with a loud crack. The hinges cracked, the frame splintered, and Lynne stepped into the hall like a ghost made of metal and steam.

She wasn't wearing her cloak now. Her arms gleamed in the fluorescent kitchen light, her eyes were fixed on Vernon and his arm grabbing Harry.

"What is it with you freaks and breaking my door?!"

Her face was calm, but all of a sudden it turned into an uncharacteristic scowl and anger shined through, which made Vernon start fuming.

"Step away from Harry." she said, her voice rough and threatening. "Now."

Vernon was now clearly boiling inside. "Who do you think you-"

"Noo." Harry said quickly. "Please don't hurt them!"

But the plea was too late. She moved and Harry could only hope she would restrain herself. In one terrifying blur, she stepped forward and grabbed Vernon's arm, twisting it and freeing Harry. Vernon's scream was short-lived.

As Harry recovered from being manhandled he saw Vernon clutching his stomach, breathing heavily. She then grabbed him by his collar lifting him with both her arms and threw him across the kitchen, knocking the table. He hit the wall with a sound like a dropped bag of flour, wind knocked out of him. Petunia screamed. Dudley bolted into the living room looking for a place to hide.

Lynne stared at Vernon panting, sobbing and wheezing on the floor.

"Try." she said quietly. "Try laying a hand on him again." then her composure relaxed which gave his aunt room to voice her opinion.

"You freaks should stay away, get out of my house!" Petunia's voice came shrill.

Lynne tilted her head, her anger seemingly gone. Her blank face having returned gave no emotions. She blinked as if not understanding the situation completely.

"I'm Harry's friend and I'm here to protect him."

She turned to Harry.

"I'll stay here. Until it's safe. Where is your room?"

Harry was stunned, still in disbelief. "U-upstairs." he finally said.

And just like that, she grabbed his trunk and started climbing the stairs. He quickly regained his senses and while Petunia was trying to help a collapsed Vernon he quickly followed her. His relatives didn't dare to say a word.

"Harry, I think it would be best if your relatives never touch you again, I lost control for a second again."
​

---

Lynne had explained that his mentor was not able to come for her at the train station. She had hinted at receiving orders to continue her mission until he could give her a safe location. What mission that was, he had no clue. Harry didn't mind, he was actually quite glad she had butted into his summer plans.

The Dursleys didn't speak to him. Not once. Surprisingly they didn't even try to call the police. They didn't even use her name.

After Lynne had joined him for breakfast the next day, even though she didn't need to eat, Vernon had shuffled into the living room, pale and sweat-drenched. He would stay there for the rest of the day scared of even looking at her.

Petunia moved through the house like a ghost, only speaking in thin mutters to herself about "Freak agents" and "unregistered monsters." Dudley refused to leave his room. Harry had never seen the house so quiet.

At one point Vernon had enough of her and tried to threaten her with his gun, but it ended with him on the floor again and the gun broke down and bent into a ball. From there they tried their best to avoid her again, although Harry knew the situation would explode at some point out of desperation.

She dismantled a broken toaster her second morning there, reassembled it better, and left it on the counter without comment. He was reminded that Lynne didn't need sleep as she would often stay in his room at night, sitting on the floor reading or writing in her journal. A few days ago he found her exiting the small cupboard under the stairs.

Harry sat at the desk in Dudley's second bedroom, fingers idly tapping the wood. Hedwig dozed in her cage beside the window, her feathers fluffed against the early chill.

He turned toward the glass and looked up at the sky. No owls. Not one in the past two weeks. Not even from Hermione.

He wasn't worried, not in the panicked way he might have been a year ago. He wasn't locked in his cupboard, he wasn't counting the cracks in the ceiling. This time, he had Lynne. Still, it lingered at the edge of his mind.

He thought for sure Hermione would've written by now. She always had something to say, even if it was a correction or a fact he didn't ask for. Padma might've sent a short note. Even Terry could've scrawled something snarky on the back of a Chocolate Frog card. He didn't know Anthony that much but he said he would write from time to time.

But there had been nothing. Maybe they were still busy with their families. He didn't know exactly how a caring family worked, so maybe they would spend days together catching up on the time they missed. Maybe they were giving him space they themselves wanted, after months of staying all together at the castle. Or maybe, he thought briefly, they didn't know what to say after what happened and the rumours.

Lynne had barely spoken that morning. She was sitting in the corner of the room now, methodically tightening a metal plate in her forearm with a tool she must have built herself. She looked fine, mostly, although at times she would look lost for a few seconds, even while spending time with him.

"Hermione hasn't written." he said, not really expecting a reply. "Neither has anyone from Ravenclaw."

Lynne didn't look up. "They haven't written to me either."

He nodded slowly. "So maybe it's normal for them to wait a bit?."

She tightened something with a soft click. Harry stared at the window again.

"I don't mind it that much with you here to be honest." he added. "It's just, I'm worried they are distancing themselves after what happened."

He didn't say he missed them. He wasn't sure he did, not yet, but he wanted to stay friends with everyone. He was used to something different now. Not having them around, not even exchanging a letter, felt strange.

Lynne finished adjusting the panel and flexed her fingers with a whirred sound.

"Why don't you write them and ask?." she questioned.

"Yeah, I can do that, it will give Hedwig something to do." And that was enough for now.

Harry found her seated at the kitchen table one night, sharpening one of her arm joints with a silver hex-tool that definitely hadn't been packed in her school trunk.

He poured himself a glass of water. "You don't have to stay in the cupboard, you know."

Lynne shrugged. "It's small. I fit."

Harry snorted. He thought she sounded like something a cat would say just now.

"You can use the guest room. I don't mind your company."

She smiled faintly. "My mentor told me everyone needs their privacy from time to time."

Harry smiled a little, then watched her quietly. She was different now, not openly, not constantly, but in the tension in her fingers, the way she tilted her head too far to the side, like a tic or a bad habit.

"You've been… having the same issue you had on the train. More frequently now." he said carefully.

"Yes. I couldn't find my mentor to fix it obviously and I don't know how."

She reached into her coat and pulled out a crumpled small note. She flattened it on the table, stared at the fine print for a few seconds.

"I had a dream earlier... or a memory." she said suddenly. "I was brushing my hair but it was a lot longer than what I usually wear. But I've never had that in my life."

Harry's breath caught. "Do you remember anything else?"

"No. Just… warmth. A sort of smell. Vanilla and… the smell of books. And the feel of a soft bed. There was also the feeling of sunlight."

She looked up at him.

"I don't like the light. It makes me tired." He didn't know what to say to that.

The next morning, she knocked on Harry's door just past dawn. He opened it, still in pajamas. She stood in the hallway, coat buttoned and a small butterfly stuck on her hair.

"We are leaving." she said.

Harry's stomach dropped. "Where?"

"My guardian left instructions to find a house. It's hidden and safe. No one but us should know about it. I'm taking you with me."

"What?" he asked with hesitation.

"We can't stay here. This house is not really safe, the wards present are not hiding us." she said.

He nodded slowly, heart tightening. Lynne looked at him for a long time. Her eyes were clear, calm. Then, for a brief moment, they shimmered, looking conflicted.

Harry hesitated. "What about… what about the Dursleys?"

Lynne tilted her head slightly. "What about them?"

"No one will look for us?" he asked.

"They can try."

He nodded, still uncertain.

"Why are you not packing?"

Deciding that his summer would be terrible if he stayed he went up the stairs silently, he didn't need to pack much as he had been spending time with Lynne instead of doing anything with his school supplies. Fifteen minutes later, they slipped out into the gray-blue of early morning. No one saw them go. The street was empty.
​

---

Arabella Figg stirred milk into her tea with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the morning paper folded neatly beside her on the counter. Her flat smelled faintly of cat hair and lavender liniment, but today the scent of overcooked cabbage and the soft purring of her kneazle-cross cats filled the air. Two of them purred around her ankles, half-dozing.

She glanced through the lace curtain, out the front window of her small house just across the street from Number Four, Privet Drive.

She set her tea down, a sense of unease creeping in. Arabella had been entrusted by Dumbledore to watch over Harry, a task she took seriously despite her lack of magical abilities. Her status as a Squib had often made her feel inadequate, but this responsibility gave her purpose.

She recalled the times she had to feign disinterest in Harry, ensuring the Dursleys would continue to allow her to babysit him. It pained her to treat him coldly, but it was necessary for his protection.

Now something felt off. It had been a very quiet two weeks. No sign of Petunia bustling with breakfast dishes. No Vernon wrestling with the car door. And no Harry.

Her gaze narrowed. Normally by now, the boy would have been weeding something, or hiding in the garden to avoid Dudley's latest torment. Nothing like that had happened yet, and she was sure they wouldn't punish the boy with more than a week indoors.

She leaned closer to the glass. Then frowned. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the telephone, a battered, rotary thing she rarely used. She paused.

"No." she whispered to herself. "Not yet. It could still be nothing." The cats stilled at her feet.

Across the road, Number Four remained still. Too still. Arabella Figg stared at it a moment longer, then slowly pulled the curtain shut.

In the morning she stepped outside, the morning air crisp against her skin. Crossing the street, she knocked on the Dursleys' door. No answer. She tried the handle; it was locked. Peering through the window, the house appeared empty.

The following day she thought she was being rewarded for her inaction as she saw finally the Dursley happy and outside for a change. Although there was still no sign of Harry.

The day after, Petunia knocked on her door to let her know that she wouldn't have to take care of Harry this summer with a happy smile and relaxed face. As soon as she was gone, she sat down heavily in her armchair, cats weaving around her ankles.

She needed to inform Dumbledore. But what would she say? That Harry had vanished under her watch? The weight of her perceived failure pressed down on her.

She sighed, reaching for the teacup, now cold. "Oh, Harry." she whispered, "Where have you gone?" She finally floo called the Headmaster. Something had gone very wrong, for sure.
​

---

AN: This is the end of year 1. I will be back to posting year two next week. Also here I have a glossary of all spells used so far and a few other trivia I picked up from the wiki. I wrote it originally for a friend that isn't really into HP as much, and I'm adding it here, maybe someone finds it interesting. You can definitely skip it.

Glossary - Year One​

Magic & Spells.

Spells:​

• Accio: Summoning charm – Summons an object to caster.​
• Avada Kedavra: Killing Curse – Kills a target.​
• Bombarda: Bombardment spell – Causes a small explosion.​
• Brachio Emendo: Charm, Healing Spell – This spell will heal broken bones.​
• Confringo: Blasting curse – Produces a fiery explosion.​
• Crucio: Cruciatus Curse – Inflicts unbearable pain.​
• Depulso: Banishing charm – Pushes target far away from caster.​
• Diffindo: Severing charm – Used to precisely cut or tear objects.​
• Engorgio: Enlargement charm – Target swells in physical size.​
• Expelliarmus: Disarming charm.​
• Expulso: Explosion spell – Uses pressure instead of heat.​
• Four-Point Spell: Charm to point north or, if modified, a specific direction.​
• Levioso: Levitation charm – Levitates target.​
• Lumos: Light-producing charm –Illuminates the tip of the caster's wand.​
• Lumos Maxima: A stronger variant of Lumos charm.​
• Petrificus Totalus: Full Body-Bind Curse – Used to temporarily bind the victim's body in a position.​
• Protego: Shield charm – Magical Shield, can block most spells.​
• Reparo: Mending charm – Repairs an object.​
• Reducto: Reductor curse – Breaks objects. In stronger usages, it disintegrates them.​
• Revelio: Charm to reveal secrets.​
• Stupefy: Stunning spell – Stuns target, rendering them unconscious..​
• Wingardium Leviosa – Levitates an object and moves it around.​

Variant Spells:​

• Indica Locus – Custom navigation spell created by Lynne, variation of Four-Point Spell.​
• Rubescens – Gives active defense to a flying object, turns the object red.​
• Sleeping Charm – Spell with an unknown incantation, puts the target into a magically induced sleep that would eventually wear off.​

Warding / Wards: They are protective enchantments used in an area for an extended period of time. These spells could have a wide variety of applications, with many different types of protective enchantments existing.

Transfiguration: Branch of magic that focused on the alteration of the form or appearance of an object, animal or person.

Charms: A charm is a spell that adds certain properties to an object or individual. The art of producing charms is known as charmwork.

Curses, Jinxes, Hexes: they are all dark charms. Dark charms are those designed to be malicious or otherwise draw power from negative emotions. Curses are the worst type and most heinous kind of magic, therefore their effects were the most severe. Jinxes are minor dark charms, their effects are the least severe. Causes small inconvenience to the target usually. Hexes are the intermediate type, their effects are moderately severe. It can cause a major inconvenience or low level of harm to the target.

Locations

Forbidden Forest: also known as the dark forest, is a forest that borders the edges of the grounds of Hogwarts School. There are several creatures that make their home there. To name a few, Acromantulas, Centaurs, Unicorns, Thestrals and Hippogriffs.

Hogsmeade Station: The train to Hogwarts stops here, Hogsmeade is an all-wizarding village in the Scottish Highlands

Platform 9¾: It's a hidden platform at King's Cross Station in London, magically concealed behind the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.

Quidditch Pitch: The area where a Quidditch match took place, typically in the shape of an oval, hundred and fifty meters long and a hundred and fifty five meters wide, with a small central circle of approximately a meter in diameter. At each end there are three hooped goalposts of different heights, surrounded by a scoring area.

Gringotts: The only wizarding bank in Great Britain, and is owned and operated by goblins. Its main offices are located around the North Side of Diagon Alley in London, England. In addition to storing money and valuables for wizards and witches, one would go there to exchange Muggle money for wizarding money.

Diagon Alley: A cobblestoned wizarding alley and shopping area located in London, England behind a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Inside the alley is an assortment of restaurants, shops, and other sights. All items on the Hogwarts supply list are bought at Diagon Alley. The alley is completely hidden from the Muggle world, which is right outside of its boundaries. It is a very large area and essentially the center of wizarding London.

Azkaban: Is a fortress on an island in the middle of the North Sea. It serves the magical community of Great Britain as a prison for convicted criminals. Azkaban was built in the 15th century and it has been in use as a detention facility since 1718. Using certain charms, Azkaban is hidden from the Muggle world, and is Unplottable.

Titles, Roles & School Life

Auror: A wizard or witch that works as a highly trained law enforcement official for a wizarding governing body. Auror training is extremely difficult and intensive, so there are few qualified applicants.
Magical Guardian: A figure, usually a wizard or witch, who is appointed to protect and care for a child, particularly a magical child. This role often involves oversight of the child's education, safety, and well-being, especially in situations where the child has lost their parents or needs extra support.

Magical Creatures & Beings

Cerberus (Fluffy): A three-headed dog, also known as a Cerberus, is a very rare magical beast. It is unknown if, like the Runespoor, each head serves a different purpose. Their great weakness is the inability to resist falling asleep to the sound of music.

Owls (Hedwig): An owl is a magical bird of prey. Normally, most British owls are nocturnal, and owls generally keep to themselves, but in the wizarding world they serve many needed functions and have many sorts of personalities. Owls also appear to understand magical people speaking English and can communicate with wizards and witches. Owls are enlisted to aid communication between wizards. Letters, parcels and Howlers (angry letters) are all delivered by owls.

Kneazles: A magical beast related to, and similar in appearance to, a cat. Kneazles have spotted, speckled or flecked fur, large ears and a lightly plumed tail, akin to that of a lion's. They are thought to have separate breeds, like cats, and therefore each one varied in appearance, they can also breed with regular cats.

Potions & Ingredients

Wiggenweld Potion: A healing potion with the power to sterilize and heal minor injuries, and is the antidote to the Sleeping Draught and the Draught of Living Death.
Draught of Living Death: An extremely powerful Sleeping Draught, sending the drinker into a death-like slumber. Its effects are similar to suspended animation.
Forgetfulness Potion: A potion which causes an unknown degree of memory loss in the drinker. The recipe for this potion could be found in Magical Drafts and Potions, and is used as the final exam for first-years.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this first part, let me know what you think. Any feedback is welcomed, specially if you think the story has issues. Everything helps. This is my first attempt at writing a full story so those comments would help me for the future ones. Cheers.
-Luce​