Harry
The morning was damp and heavy with the smell of rain as Harry and Lynne arrived at King's Cross Station. His trunk rolled noisily across the wet pavement, and Hedwig's cage was draped in a soft woolen cloth to keep her calm.
Once they arrived at the station, he set Hedwig free, Lynne had told him that she could make the flight to the castle without issues. Then, he pulled his wand out and resized his trunk and cage to put it in his pocket.
The station bustled with the familiar rush of early travelers, umbrellas clashing, steam hissing from a train further down the line. But something felt off.
Harry glanced at the towering wall that separated Platforms 9 and 10. He recognized it easily by now, just walk straight through and you'd find yourself at Platform 9¾. But today, he felt better than the first time, in the company of a friend.
They stopped a few feet short of the barrier. Harry looked at Lynne, who was standing perfectly still, her metal fingers tapping lightly against the handle of her trunk. Her eyes narrowed.
"What?" he asked.
"The barrier is looking strange." she said flatly. "Give it a try, but with caution."
He broke into a soft jog and aimed straight at the wall, hands forward just in case. The moment he reached it, the barrier didn't yield. His hands collided softly against the wall and he was glad he didn't try it first full head on.
He yelped surprised at the sudden hardness, followed by a groan as Harry's mind went into panic. Lynne was already at his side, metal hand steadying his shoulder.
"It's closed somehow." she murmured.
"What? It should be open." Harry said, rubbing his shoulder. "We're not late, are we?"
"No. It's 10:32. The train doesn't leave until eleven." She stepped forward, placed her palm against the wall, then withdrew it with a frown. "There's magic holding it shut. It's not something I recognize."
Harry's mind raced. Could someone be trying to stop him from returning to school? Was this another warning like that weird house-elf had given him? Speaking of house-elves. Without a sound, a small figure popped into existence beside them.
"Zicky!" He gasped.
"Master Potter, Miss Volant." said Zicky, bowing so low his nose nearly brushed the pavement. "Zicky is pleased to be in your presence again, Zicky is at your service."
Harry blinked. "Hello Zicky, can you get us to the other side? This way is blocked."
Zicky straightened and wrung his hands. "Zicky is here to bring young masters to the train, as ordered by Master Thorne. Zicky did not expect the barrier to be... messed with. Master only mentioned the young masters needing help."
"He knew this was going to happen?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"Master Thorne is always gazing into the future." Zicky said, pridefully. "Master has an amazing skill and talent in his eyes. Zicky is glad to be needed."
Harry's skin prickled. Lynne stepped forward.
"Thank you, Zicky. But I don't think you can apparate us to the other side."
"Zicky can do better!" he said proudly snapping his fingers.
In an instant, the shadows near a maintenance hallway seemed to twist. A new archway shimmered into place, stone forming where only brick had been before. It radiated a soft, silver-blue glow.
"Quickly now. Before it draws unwanted attention." Zicky urged.
Lynne didn't hesitate. She pushed her way forward, disappearing through the arch. Harry followed, trusting the urgency in the house-elf voice. He expected more brick. Instead, the moment he passed through, the world shifted. One moment he was in the station, and the next, he stood on the familiar red-brick platform of 9¾.
The Hogwarts Express stood patiently on the tracks, gleaming in the morning light, smoke curling gently from its stack. Families bustled about, trunks were being loaded, and students waved at friends they hadn't seen all summer. No one seemed to notice that Harry and Lynne had appeared from a wall that hadn't existed moments ago.
"That wasn't so bad." Harry muttered.
Zicky brushed off his waistcoat proudly. "House-elf's magic is very efficient Mr. Potter. Sometimes more powerful than wizards remember."
Lynne adjusted her trunk straps. "Thank you, Zicky."
Zicky looked pleased, but bowed again. "Zicky must go now. Master's orders."
With a pop, he vanished. Harry and Lynne exchanged a glance and then smiled. The crowd hadn't thinned, but Harry could feel something different this year. The platform was bustling with students and their families, but Harry hardly noticed the noise anymore. The station had lost some of its intimidation, perhaps because he was no longer alone in the crowd.
He had the familiar figure that walked beside him, silent but steady. Lynne's presence grounded him like nothing else. Her satchel bounced slightly at her side with each step, her metal fingers tightening over his shoulders whenever he got distracted while walking through the crowd, they needed to find a compartment after all.
Now, the scarlet Hogwarts Express shimmered in the sunlight, and Harry felt that odd flutter of excitement return. The great red engine, with its white steam and chattering corridors, already felt like part of his life. He'd never realized that he thought of Hogwarts as his home now, but his time spent at Lynne's place also made him consider if he could call that his second home.
Lynne's face was as impassive as ever, and she climbed into the train like it was just another day. He pulled open the door to an empty compartment, claiming a seat by the window. Lynne followed without a word, setting her satchel down and folding her arms across her lap with robotic precision. He sat across from her this time, watching the flow of people outside the glass.
"Do you think someone's still trying to keep me from school?" he asked softly.
Lynne looked at him. "If they are, they are failing miserably."
"Yeah." Harry muttered, "I just thought back to the other house-elf that stole my letters."
She didn't reply but looked thoughtful. Before Harry could even get comfortable, the door slid open.
"Mind if we sit here?" Terry Boot was the first in, already pulling his trunk behind him. Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein followed without waiting for an answer.
"Sure, go ahead." Harry said, surprised but not unwelcoming.
"Thanks." Padma said with a smile, placing her bag neatly in the rack above. "We were looking for you guys."
"We were hoping to sit with friends this year." Anthony added, nodding toward Harry. "How was your summer?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I spent it at Lynne's manor. It was fun, we actually practiced Quidditch and flying."
The Ravenclaws exchanged glances, amused and a bit impressed. Terry laughed as he sat. "Sounds like you had a nice time. Mine was mostly books and trying to ignore my family pestering me about homework."
As if summoned by the word homework, Hermione Granger slid the compartment door open and peeked in. "Oh, hello, I finally found you guys."
"Hey, Hermione." Harry said as he smiled at her. "Make some room mates."
Hermione stepped in, eyes flicking across the faces, then settling beside Lynne with a quiet, "Hi."
The train gave a gentle lurch. Harry watched the station slide away, and with it, the last traces of summer. Conversation picked up slowly, as it does among students used to keeping their heads in books more than socializing. Padma and Terry began comparing their summer reading lists, Anthony quietly scribbled something into a notebook, and Lynne listened, impassive as ever.
Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't resist. "Did anyone else review the new Charms curriculum? They've added a whole unit on altering spell techniques."
"Isn't that mostly theoretical at our level?" Terry asked.
"Still interesting, right?" Hermione replied, defensive but calm.
Harry grinned at the tone. It felt familiar. "You'd like Lynne's spell for finding classrooms. Helped me a lot last year."
Hermione perked up. "You invented a spell?"
Lynne gave a soft nod. "It's a deviation from the Four-Point spell. Instead of pointing north, it guides you toward a visualized destination. It needs quite a bit of magic in the environment to work though."
Hermione's mouth parted slightly in surprise. "That's… really advanced. Did Professor Flitwick see it?"
"I didn't show him."
"You should." Hermione said with a nod. "Spellwork like that isn't common for second years."
Lynne looked at her slightly amused. "I came up with it when I arrived at Hogwarts last year."
While Hermione's jaw remained opened, Terry decided Quidditch was more engaging.
"So Harry, are you still planning to try out for the Quidditch team?"
"Yes, Lynne will join too! I'm quite excited about it actually."
Terry leaned over to Padma and whispered, "Calling it now: Ravenclaw wins the House Cup this year."
Padma smirked. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Slytherin should still have a good team, like last year."
"Oh Merlin." Anthony muttered, looking up. "With their luck, I can already see them getting injured."
"Probably, but I wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of Lynne as a Beater" Harry said.
The laughter was easy. Even Hermione smiled. The conversation drifted as they spoke of summer vacations, books, broom practices, some light teasing and marriage talk after living with Lynne, and an overly ambitious attempt by Padma's twin to brew a dream potion that made the kitchen smell like burnt rubber for a week.
Harry found himself relaxing more with every minute. It wasn't like last year, when he'd spent the ride in awe and anxiety of all the new things he didn't know. These people weren't strangers either, they were his friends. Maybe not all were close friends, but they weren't cold faces either. He laughed when they teased Lynne for being top of the class, they even began calling her the "Ravenclaw princess".
As the conversation shifted to this year's curriculum, Lynne mostly listened, offering the occasional fact or correction when things got too silly. Hermione seemed fascinated by her. From her knowledge, to the unusual cadence of her whispery voice, even by her silence as Harry saw how she looked at Lynne at times.
"How come you always have the answer?" she asked at one point, not unkindly. "Is there something you are not good at?"
"I was prepared by the best, although it does make playing student boring. I did read a lot, I still do." Lynne said.
"Fair." Terry muttered.
The trolley came by at one point, and Harry sprang to his feet. "Anyone want anything?"
Padma and Anthony declined, Hermione asked for sugar quills, having discovered that magical sweets wouldn't cause problems with your teeth last year, and Terry handed over two sickles for some Pumpkin Pasties. Harry ordered too much again, returning with a bundle of sweets and a grin.
"That reminds me, we did sample the whole cart last year." Lynne said.
"We can make it a tradition!" Harry said.
He unwrapped a Licorice Wand, passed a Chocolate Frog to Terry, and set a bag of Every-Flavour Beans on the seat between him and Lynne. She didn't reach for them, of course, but she smiled a little when he offered and that was enough.
The compartment buzzed with laughter again when Terry ate a bean that turned out to be horseradish. Hermione took notes on the frog card and Anthony shared a sketch he made of their Charms professor dueling a jellyfish for some reason.
Somewhere between a game of wizard's trivia and debating whether Peeves had a soul, Harry realized something quietly significant. He felt… at home with friends. It was not about Hogwarts at all.
A year ago, he hadn't known any of them. Now, he had a compartment full of Ravenclaw peers, who wanted to sit with him, laugh with him, learn with him. And more than that, he had Lynne. Silent, strange, brilliant Lynne. From the moment he entered the train for the first time, to a year later laughing with a bigger group.
He glanced at her, and she was already looking at him, as if she'd felt the thought.
"Excited to be back?" she asked, her voice though damaged, spoke softly.
"Yes." He answered with conviction.
----0000----
It was the first Monday back after the weekend, and the halls of Hogwarts thrummed with the sluggish energy of returning students. Most were still yawning their way through the corridors, but Harry had grown used to waking early alongside Lynne. Or rather, awakening to her staring at him, in his own room, not a hair out of place.
He didn't know if she even blinked when he was sleeping. He still wasn't sure he believed her explanation about keeping him safe, but a quick reminder of how lost she looked at the end of the year, had stopped him questioning her more about it. Besides, Anthony didn't mind it seemed, Lynne was correct that he was a very heavy sleeper.
They stepped into the corridor leading to Charms when a voice like wind chimes interrupted them.
"There you are!"
Both turned. A small, pale girl with long, straw-colored hair and large silvery eyes stood a few feet away, clutching her bag with both hands. Her socks didn't match, and she wore her robes inside out, judging by the way she curtsied as if it were a formal gown, it might have been deliberately.
"I'm Luna." she declared dreamily. "Luna Lovegood. And you are the creature's scarecrow."
Harry blinked, unsure what to say.
Lynne didn't look surprised at all though. "A new nickname for me?"
"It's not only a nickname." Luna continued, floating closer. "The creatures fear you, so you must be their scarecrow. You keep things away, and I want to know how you do it. You are basically immune somehow, I want to be like you someday."
"I see." Lynne said, her tone unchanged.
Harry looked between them, trying to decide if he needed to intervene.
"You're Harry Potter." Luna said, glancing at him only briefly. "You had Nargles following you around. They might steal your things, so be careful. You are safe now, but only when you are close to her." She pointed at Lynne.
"I might have left my Nargles at breakfast." Harry muttered skeptically.
"No, they wouldn't leave you for pumpkin juice." Luna said cheerfully. "But don't worry. If they get too many, we can shoo them with a comb and a rhyme, although with how close you two are it wouldn't be necessary. Anyway!" She turned again toward Lynne and bowed.
"Can I follow you around too?"
"I suppose it doesn't hurt anybody, as long as you go to your classes when you need to."
"Of course! Thank you." The blond girl said, looking happy and relieved.
Harry was amused at the girl's antics, Luna was certainly strange but not the bad kind, and thinking about it, it was best to let the few people who would approach Lynne in the first place be. After last year's events, he was sure only new students would dare get close to her, that is if they weren't warned by older students first.
It only took a few days but Harry and Hermione found that they enjoyed Luna's presence. She would usually ask Lynne questions about her classes and homework, about weird creatures Lynne somehow knew about. Harry realized that Luna had quickly realized she couldn't lie, and usually didn't mind answering questions about any knowledge that she had, unless it involved her mentor.
On one hand, he thought that taking advantage of Lynne was not good, but on the other hand, it was usually harmless and she didn't seem to mind the questions at all. Hermione found the courage to ask as well seeing this behavior and Lynne was bombarded with questions discussing her homework to full on magical theory lessons.
"Honestly, you know all of our year's curriculum already, it's almost as if you didn't have to attend in the first place." She voiced one time.
"I didn't. But how would I have met friends otherwise?"
Hermione looked embarrassed but happy as well with her answer, it seemed they had a lot in common from Harry's perspective. He was sure that both could self study everything that was needed to graduate, but they would be quite lonely. It seemed Lynne understood it better, or at least she voiced it as if she did.
After living with her and Thorne, Harry realized that some of the phrases she used were his, it could have been a phrase her master told her.
----0000----
Defense Against the Dark Arts had become something of a joke even before the year started. Everyone knew they'd gone through a new teacher every year, and now the post was held by a man whose smile gleamed more than a polished wand and who seemed more interested in showing his own picture than teaching anyone anything.
Still, Harry was trying to be hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, Gilderoy Lockhart would know a thing or two about defense. Maybe behind the peacock blue robes and constantly flashing teeth was a real wizard who could help. Was he jealous that Hermione talked about him with dreamy eyes? Definitely not.
He couldn't keep his optimism for long, sadly. Lockhart's classroom looked more like a shrine. Dozens of large framed portraits of the man in heroic poses adorned every wall, Lockhart wrestling a banshee, Lockhart flying through the air on a broom while rescuing a veela.
Harry had to fight the urge to glance at Lynne beside him to check whether she found this as ridiculous as he did. Her face was perfectly neutral, but her eyes were already tracking every movement with a slow blink. She looked unimpressed.
"Welcome!" Lockhart boomed as he flung open the door and swept into the room with the force of a theatrical breeze.
"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts! I am, of course, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award…But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at him."
He gave them all a wink that made a few girls, unfortunately, beam. Harry heard Padma whisper something snarky under her breath and Terry snorted.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books, well done. Now…I have, as a gift to you, prepared a little quiz." Lockhart continued, passing scrolls to the front rows. "Don't worry, this is just to check how much you've read them!"
"What?" said Anthony, startled.
"Oh yes." Lockhart said, clearly delighted. "Now now, pencils out, quills ready, everyone. Thirty minutes, starting now!"
Harry glanced down at the parchment. The first question was: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color? The second: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date? The third: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? He blinked and slowly lowered his quill. Lynne didn't even touch hers.
Thirty agonizing minutes later, Lockhart collected the scrolls and gave them a bright smile.
"Tut, tut. Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. Ah! But I see Miss Abbot knows me best, almost every question right. Oh, how delightful! A true fan. 5 points to Hufflepuff."
Hannah flushed from her seat beside Lynne, who was still staring blankly at the chalkboard.
"Now! On to today's practical." Lockhart declared, clapping his hands. "Let's have some real excitement, shall we?"
With a flourish, he yanked a velvet curtain off a tall iron cage. Inside were a dozen blue creatures, fluttering wildly. They had long limbs, pointy ears, and wings that buzzed like furious wasps. They were Cornish pixies, and they looked very, very angry.
"Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizarkind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you not to scream, it might… Provoke them."
"Oh no." Terry muttered. And no one else managed to say anything else.
"Let's see how you handle these little mischief-makers!" Lockhart announced. "Ready? Three, two, one!" He threw the cage door open.
Harry wanted to facepalm so hard. It was total chaos in an instant. The pixies exploded into the classroom like a bottle of shaken soda. One bit Su Li's robes and another yanked Padma's hair. A few went for Abbot's bag, flinging out books and parchment. Ink spilled, quills flew, chairs toppled.
Harry ducked as one flew at his head. "Protego!" he shouted, and the pixie bounced off a glowing shield charm Lynne had him practice over the summer. "This is insane!"
"Do something!" shouted Anthony as he fended off two with his wand, casting a spell that did absolutely nothing.
Lockhart, meanwhile, had climbed on top of his desk and was calling, "Please! Let's all remain calm, you can round them up, they are only pixies." He said as he had to dodge a flying pixie.
"Well it seems it's up to me!" He said as he raised his wand. "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
No spell came out, and even one of the pixies grabbed his wand mockingly and used it to break the chains of the iconic dragon skeleton that hung at the top of the ceiling. It came crashing down, luckily in the middle of the room where no tables were present. Harry even thought he could see a pixie riding the skeleton as it fell down.
One moment later, Lockhart was running back to his office, but he didn't even get to open the door when harry noticed his friend was on the move. Lynne did not hesitate. Her wand was out in a blink, and her voice rang out clearly over the chaos: "Depulso!" One pixie was banished mid-flight so fast it splattered against the wall, his remains fell like a stone.
"Confringo!" A blue explosion of light caught two more in a blast that singed the classroom wall. Plaster crumbled from the ceiling.
"Miss Volant!" Lockhart shrieked. "We do not use blasting curses in my classroom!"
She ignored him naturally, and kept firing spell after spell. Another pixie swooped for Harry, and he instinctively jabbed his wand.
"Descendo!" he cried.
The pixie he was aiming at came crashing down hard on top of a desk which broke at impact, throwing splinters around. Su Li ducked with a yelp, one of Lockhart's self-portraits cracked and fell off the wall.
"Merlin's beard!" shouted Lockhart. "Stop! Stop!"
By the time the last pixie was on the ground, blasted, or singed, the room looked like a war zone. Desks upturned, books smoking, and one of Lockhart's framed pictures had fallen face-first into a puddle of ink. He picked it up with trembling hands.
"You… you destroyed half my classroom." he whispered. "And for pixies! You could have captured them."
"But you didn't teach us how." Harry said bluntly.
"They were biting people, setting parchment on fire, and they almost picked a student up, I wouldn't want to know how that would have turned out." Lynne added.
"That's not the point!" Lockhart said, nearly wailing. "You two, detention! Reckless magical aggression! That was totally uncalled for and dangerous of you to do."
Lynne gave him a glare. "Perhaps next time you'll control your creatures."
Lockhart flinched at her stare. "Yes well… detention still stands!" Lockhart cried. "Seven o'clock! My office! Both of you!"
The class, recovering, began murmuring. Hannah Abbot looked horrified. Padma just leaned toward Harry and whispered, "That was brilliant."
"I didn't know it would come crashing down so hard." Harry whispered back.
"It was nice thinking." Lynne said, quietly smiling. "Proud of you, Harry. Although, now that I think about it, we could have immobilize them if we wanted to capture them, but my master always told me we shouldn't leave pests alive."
Lockhart was still babbling something and complaining about his trashed frames. As students filed out, whispering and laughing, Harry realized he wasn't upset. Not even about the detention. In fact, as he walked beside Lynne, their robes slightly singed and their classmates patting him on the back, he felt something close to pride.
----0000----
Rumors about what happened spread all throughout the school, and he was branded the "pixie slayer". It was a bit amusing and although he did feel bad for the creatures afterwards, he still was happy that Lynne was proud of him. It seemed it would be another year of hearing whispers wherever he walked but he could get used to it.
At least Lynne didn't seem bothered by it, and as he was walking to the library with her and Hermione, he saw a bunch of students coming to them. At the front was Luna looking quite smug and happily skipping forward.
"Hey, Luna." He greeted her. "Who are those?"
She gestured behind her. Three Ravenclaw first-years stood in a huddle. wide-eyed, nervous, and clearly unsure how they had ended up here. One of them, a chubby boy with hair in his eyes, raised a timid hand.
"Er, Luna said you're the... um... answer lady?"
"I said scarecrow first." Luna corrected. "But answer lady is fine, too."
The others nodded quickly. "We also heard tales from the entire house." A girl stepped forward holding a copy of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. "I was wondering… is it true you broke someone's fingers for calling you a pile of screws?"
Harry stiffened but Lynne just nodded unperturbed. "He tried to grab my hair. I responded accordingly."
The first-years exchanged a look of admiration and fear.
"She's so cool." one whispered.
"I want to learn to do that."
Lynne tilted her head. "Is someone bothering you?" She asked. When the first year nodded she looked thoughtful. "We are not allowed to duel, I think it would be best if you didn't go looking for trouble."
"But what if someone tries to grab our hair?"
"Then you should respond appropriately." Lynne replied. "I guess I could teach you a spell for that."
Harry sighed and facepalmed. The procession followed them down the hall and all the way to class. Every few minutes, a new question popped up.
"Are you part goblin?"
"No."
"Is it true that you have a dagger under your clothes?"
"Yes." What? Why would she have a dagger? Harry thought. Then another more important thought… How did they know?
"Can you fly without a broom?"
"There are ways to fly without a broom. I could list them."
As Lynne was answering their questions, Harry found himself boxed in between Ravenclaws who kept glancing at him. He hoped they didn't turn their questions to him, he had no idea and he hated the spotlight. One of them finally leaned over and asked,
"Are you guys you know… together?"
He choked on his breath. Lynne, somehow having heard, replied before he could.
"We did live together for the summer."
'That didn't help at all!' he lamented. He knew there would be more rumours about them now. They entered the common room later that evening, Harry hoping the attention would fade. Sadly… It didn't. They just snickered between them and felt more confident to ask him about his summer. Then about his scar and all of that boy-who-lived paraphernalia.
They keep moving into the library and if Madam Pince's looks could kill, he was sure they would be dead already.
Lynne sat down in her usual corner seat, pulled a book from her satchel, and began reading. The gathered first-years watched her as if awaiting a sermon.
"Can you help me with my homework?" One asked.
"Yes."
And from there onwards, Harry knew that they wouldn't go away. Hermione looked amused and also wanted to help with their homework.
"She doesn't blink very often." one said, scribbling on a parchment. What an odd thing to note, Harry thought.
Luna sat cross-legged on the floor beside Lynne and pulled a strange necklace from her pocket. "It's so weird to not need you now." she whispered to no one in particular.
"Why did you need that necklace for?" said one of the others.
"To ward against Nargles." Luna replied. "But she is driving the creatures away naturally. Like a great protector!"
Lynne gave her a long look. "I thought I was a scarecrow."
Luna smiled serenely. "And what do those do?"
From his spot across the room, Harry just laughed. "We are going to need a bigger table now." he called to Lynne.
"Mmm, we might have to go to an unused classroom instead." she said.
Luna looked up. "Ohh, we could start a club!"
The whole day when they weren't in class, more of the first year students followed them. At the end of the day, at the Ravenclaw common room, the whole year was present. Harry was surprised she kept answering without showing a hint of annoyance. That night, once it quieted and the younger students reluctantly shuffled to bed, Harry passed by Lynne once more.
"You okay with this?" he asked, gesturing vaguely to the crowd now dispersing.
"I used to ask my master questions, he always had an answer. I see myself in them I think. They are just curious and that is acceptable."
"I mean, you have Luna calling you the scarecrow of weird creatures only she can see and leading a small army behind you."
"I don't mind." She said simply.
He smiled. "Well… if they ever try to grab your hair, let me handle it next time."
She tilted her head. "They wouldn't dare."
----0000----
Filius
Filius Flitwick stood at the top of the Ravenclaw staircase, a cup of steaming tea in one hand and an open course book text in the other. He had meant to enjoy a few minutes of peace before his evening review of the third-year essays. Instead, he found himself watching a strange sight unfold in his own common room.
Every first-year had gathered around Lynne Volant. He blinked once, surprised and had to sip on his tea again to calm himself down.
The girl was seated as always, rigid posture, book in hand, face unreadable. But unlike last year, when students had given her a wide berth as if she might explode without warning, this year she had an audience.
One of the smaller boys was asking something about jelly-legs jinxes. A girl beside him clutched a notepad like she was scribbling gospel. And a blond girl was arranging pebbles around Lynne's chair in a slow, deliberate spiral.
Flitwick exhaled a soft chuckle. It wasn't exactly normal behavior for Ravenclaws, but then again, he supposed normal rarely survived Miss Volant.
He had to admit, it was better than the silence of last year. Lynne had barely spoken a dozen words outside of class. She was brilliant, certainly, even gifted some would say with no doubt. But terrifying in her precision and blunt delivery.
He knew she had no hesitation to restrain herself and that was scary for anyone who wanted to mess with her as the Ravenclaw fifth-year students learned. He had intervened that day but she hadn't told him the whole truth. She did indeed heal them as she had said but the rumor said that also she was the one who hurt them in the first place after they were being mean to her. And then there was the incident in spring with the seventh-year who had... well, suffered the consequences of his own actions.
The boy's hands had healed, and he had graduated albeit after almost getting expelled. The memory remained with most of the older years now, they would never approach her willingly at least.
But now she was speaking, if only in that cold metallic rasp of hers, and the others were listening attentively, and quite curious. Most importantly they were not looking at her afraid, which was important to note. Flitwick felt curious himself as well. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he thought. Maybe it just took the right kind of strange to bridge the gap.
He knew that most of her year Ravenclaws were also friendly with her, even though it seemed to be because of Harry Potter rather than her.
His mind had clarity for a second and with a quick motion he vanished his tea cup and with the idea in motion he approached the group.
"Miss Volant." he called down, and her head snapped toward him instantly, eyes alert. And the whole group followed as well.
"Professor, Sir." she replied at once, tone neutral.
"Do let me know if you intend to start tutoring sessions officially. I'll see about adding House points for your effort."
A flicker of a blink. "Understood, Professor."
He smiled, turned away, he thought that if he could get her mind to think in making it official it might be rewarding. Then he murmured to himself, "Well, better they follow someone who can hex a bully than someone who talks big and knows nothing." He said thinking about Lockhart, the small Professor not amused at what he heard so far, dining with him had also left him in a sour mood.
He added with quiet amusement. "I just hope she teaches them to be good students and not dueling in the hallways."
And then he vanished down the hall, the faint echoes of first-year questions trailing in his wake.
----0000---
Harry
The walls of Lockhart's office were gaudy in a way Harry found hard to describe. Framed photos of the man covered every surface, each one winking or flashing a dazzling smile. Harry felt like he was being watched by a hundred glittering versions of the same shallow grin.
"You're very lucky, you know." Lockhart said, as he passed Harry a silver cloth and a tarnished trophy. "I usually reserve my time for signing autographs and solving crises, but tonight, tonight, Mr. Potter and Miss Volant, you get the privilege of spending it with me."
Harry forced a smile. "Great."
Lynne, already seated at the far end of the room, did not reply. She was calmly organizing a row of ink bottles, her prosthetic fingers moving with smooth, mechanical grace. Lockhart didn't seem to notice her silence.
"You see this one?" Lockhart held up a dented plaque. "This was awarded to me by the Mayor of Evesham for services to the Magical Pest Control Board. Nasty infestation of banshees. Took me three minutes, and a well-placed Silencio charm."
Harry nodded vaguely and began writing. He was tasked with helping him answer his fan mail. There were so many letters of people declaring their love for him, praising his books or looks, or both.
"Of course, I'm much too modest to go on about all my adventures." Lockhart continued. "But it's important for young witches and wizards to have role models. That's why I write books. That, and the fan mail."
Harry shot a glance at Lynne. She hadn't said a word since Lockhart began bragging. She wiped down bottle after bottle, methodically, expressionless. For once, Harry was almost grateful, she seemed like a buffer against Lockhart's ego. She didn't even give him a glance.
He asked how to answer them, and he even had a guide on how to actually answer most of his fan mail. It seemed a bit cruel for Harry that most of the replies people would get were just something pre-written already in a small guide book, not even by his hand.
The time passed finally. At some point Lockhart began recounting his exploits in Tibet involving a Yeti and a comb that allegedly sang lullabies. Harry tuned it out entirely, as his wrist hurt from the quill, and he was fairly certain he now hated his fans with passion.
Outside, the sky darkened and candles flickered low.
"All right, that should be enough for today." Lockhart finally said, brushing nonexistent dust from his robes. "Marvelous company, truly. And Mr. Potter, do try to stay out of trouble, people are starting to say you're a bit… violent."
Harry mumbled something in reply, already halfway out the door. Lynne followed close behind. They walked side by side through the darkened corridor, footsteps muffled against the old stone.
Then he heard a faint sound, or noise, but something that sounded like whispering and Harry stopped. He turned his head toward the wall, eyes narrowing.There it was again, a whisper, which sounded ragged. Like something being dragged across wet stone, but it came from inside the wall.
"Come... come to me... come to me…" He yelped, surprised at the ominous voice.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Lynne had already stopped. Her eyes were wide, her head tilted slightly toward the wall.
"I hear noise." she said, her voice tighter than usual. "There's… footsteps behind this wall…"
Harry stared at the wall, heart hammering. The corridor stretched into shadow in both directions, and there was no sign of anyone.
"Why was it whispering?" he asked, voice low.
"Whispering?" she replied. "I didn't hear a whisper, just noise."
For a long moment, they stood there, unmoving, then Lynne blinked hard, as if coming out of a trance.
"We should return."
They walked faster after that. Neither of them said another word until they reached the staircase that led toward the tower. The silence between them was not uncomfortable. Like something had shifted.
"Should we tell someone?" Harry asked quietly, as they climbed.
Lynne hesitated. "I don't know, but we cannot explain what we heard so there is no way they will take it seriously."
Harry nodded, trusting her. Still, he thought the whole thing was quite spooky.