"Defensive spellwork." Lockhart said dramatically, striding across the front of the classroom with his plum-colored robes billowing behind him, "It isn't just about protecting yourselves, but preserving one's life!" He twirled his wand like a baton, nearly knocking over a jar of pickled pixies on the desk.
Harry sat somewhere between amused and wary, and around him, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs tried to look attentive, but most were either doodling in their notes or watching Lockhart with exhausted faces, as if hoping he'd trip over something.
Lynne had already put her quill down, not bothering much with the lesson. She was sure that only Hermione would be dutiful during his lessons, as she was somewhat fascinated by the clown Professor.
"I'm starting a Dueling Club!" Lockhart proclaimed, snapping Harry's attention back to the front. "To give students a chance to defend themselves! If, heaven forbid, another attack occurs, you should all be prepared!"
Gasps, murmurs, and a few excited grins followed the announcement.
"Is he even qualified to teach dueling?" Lynne asked, barely above a whisper.
Padma glanced sideways. "He claims he won the International tournament among the Dark Force Defense League five times."
Lynne raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that is true."
Padma snorted. "It is unverified, it's just in one of his books."
Harry stifled a laugh. After class, they gathered outside the corridor with the usual group. Somehow Hermione would always find them after class, no doubt she knows their schedule.
Lynne, Luna, and a few of the first-years who stuck to Lynne like ducklings were there as well. The hallway buzzed with students theorizing about what the dueling club might entail, of course the oaf had said the same thing in every class he had so far.
"I did some research." Hermione began in a hushed tone, drawing them closer. "I asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets."
That caught Harry's attention immediately. Lynne tilted her head, and even Luna stopped humming to listen.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"He said it's a myth, at least, that's what he believes." Hermione said. "But according to the legend, Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber somewhere in the school before he left Hogwarts. It's supposed to house some kind of monster only his heir can control."
"My mentor said something similar. People believe that there is a monster on the loose then?" Lynne said. "Controlled by this…Heir of Slytherin?"
Hermione nodded. "Binns says no one's ever found the chamber, hundreds of years, and no proof it exists. But he also said Slytherin believed only pure-bloods deserved to learn magic."
"Why would it attack a cat of all things then?" Lynne murmured.
Harry felt his stomach twist. "So the heir... could they be a student?" ignoring the question.
"Possibly, they just need to be blood related to Slytherin." Hermione said, frowning. "And Slytherin lived a thousand years back, could be many different families probably."
As they walked toward the library, tension hung between them like a bad smell. Even Luna looked unusually serious, which made a few of the other firsties unnerved. Then all of a sudden a soft click and a flash surprised the group. The blinding light came up on Harry's face, and he had to blink hard, while groaning slightly.
"Colin." he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Harry!" Colin Creevey's voice squeaked as he lowered his camera.
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Lynne was already moving. She stepped forward, eyes cold, and raised her arm in a swift, calculated motion, her fingers clenched into a fist. Her stance gave the clear picture, there wasn't going to be a warning.
"Lynne!" Hermione blurted, grabbing her wrist just in time, although this proved to be the wrong choice as even though Lynne stopped mid punch, she carried the girl forward into the ground.
Hermione let out a small yelp, surprised at the sudden jerk and cold floor. The group of firsties gasped startled and Luna had a worried look on her face. Lynne looked concerned as well, and she carefully helped Hermione up.
"Are you alright?"
"Y-yes." Hermione said, her voice shaking.
"I..I'm sorry. You guys looked really intense so I thought it would have look great." he said. Once he saw there was no real danger though quickly his face turned into a small smirk. "Although it makes sense for your partner to defend you, eh Harry? Say, can I take a picture of you guys beside each other?"
Hermione, having recovered, stepped in between them. "You can't just take people's photos without asking." she said gently but firmly. "And also…You clearly are not aware of what happened last year, they were attacked and Lynne could have seriously hurt you."
Colin nodded, muttering apologies before retreating. Harry exhaled and Lynne's jaw was still tight, but her eyes had cooled. "Sorry, Hermione, I was startled for a second." she said simply.
Hermione gave her a look in a non judgmental way, but worried. The group continued toward the library in silence for a while. Harry was worried that the younger students of the group would look at Lynne with fear now, Colin was a first year as well after all, but if anything they looked awed at her strength.
"Well, maybe now I won't get surprise pictures anymore." Harry finally said.
"Yes I think you would look better if you weren't surprised by it." Lynne replied, making everyone's jaw drop by what she implied. "You guys should close your mouth, you will let flies in."
Lynne and jokes again? Tomorrow is going to be a very rainy day, Harry mused.
----0000----
The words appeared across the page in sharp, ink-black strokes, as she opened her journal. Each night she would check for any messages her master could have left, it seemed this time she had a mission on her hands.
Your new target is a rat. The Weasley pet. Scabbers. Eliminate it discreetly, the body must not be found.
Lynne stared at the journal's glowing script. The heat from the nearby fireplace had faded and the Ravenclaw common room looked gloomy at night. Her fingers hovered over the parchment as the ink cooled into stillness.
Confirm when you can. No mistakes this time.
She didn't write back immediately. Instead, she waited as her breath barely moved in her chest. When her hand moved at last without hesitation.
Confirmed.
Instructions received.
The ink vanished almost instantly, a sign her reply was sent back. She closed the journal gently and stored it safely in her pouch. Having received her orders, she moved to planning.
She climbed the steps to her room, shared by her housemates. Once inside, casting a muffling charm on her feet, she quickly enlarged and unlocked her trunk, disappearing into it.
In the eerie and small room she had for herself inside her trunk, Lynne was thinking and noting down the best way to carry out her mission. The silence inside her beloved space gave her the clarity of mind she needed. She appreciated the silence and the extensive charm work her master had done with her trunk.
Sadly, the silence wouldn't remain tonight... the voice returned far more quickly than she anticipated.
You're good at this. Pretending it doesn't matter. Pretending it's nothing.
She leaned against the wooden wall, hand curling slightly. "It's just a rat, but it must be important for master to give us this mission. Just our next target." she whispered.
US?! Our?! It's all you…And I have heard this before, exactly what you told yourself about the last one. And the one before that. All just… targets.
Her breathing slowed, using the exercises she knew would work, reigning in any hint of anxiety or panic. The voice wasn't overwhelming yet, not like it used to be at least, she knew fear could unsettle her thoughts, and more if she lost control. But its presence alone unsettled her, so she still had to fight against it.
She reached up and tapped her temple gently, a trick she'd been taught to reassert dominance. A press against the temple, a deep breath, and everything would be fine.
Monster. You are both horrible.
"No." she said flatly.
She had a mission. Missions had rules. Targets, execution windows, risk profiles. Thorne had calculated all of it as he always did. And yet…Why hadn't he told her the reason?
She was trained to kill, yes, but also trained to understand tactical objectives. If this was just a rat, why wouldn't he explain? Unless of course, there was something he didn't want her to know.
You're a tool, you are being used to do terrible things. Tools don't ask, tools obey. It seems that's all you are.
She straightened up and quickly gathered her notes. She wasn't a tool, she was her blade. She was not mindless, her purpose came from his orders, yes, but also, it was her choice. And she chose to trust her master, he had never led her astray.
She chose to be his weapon, because she believed in him and his cause. That clarity, however fragile, was enough. The voice faded again, dissolving into background static. She moved away from her room, and out her trunk.
The Ravenclaw dormitory was getting colder these days. She could hear the faint snores of her housemate and the wind hitting the windows softly. Her thoughts went to the rat, such a fragile and unconcerned being should have their end be sudden, with as little pain as possible.
She was also ordered to leave no trace, so she had to be meticulous and do it quickly, precisely and deadly. She was having a perfect picture already, going back to her recollection of memories.
She'd have to study the Gryffindor night movements, find the perfect time and schedule. Neville's password list might still be tucked behind his book, it would occasionally drop as he studied in the library, he was careless with things like that, so entering the Gryffindor common room wouldn't be an issue. Its location was already revealed to her once by Hermione.
She could make it work and she would. Lynne made a small mental note: One week. Scabbers had one week left to live.
----0000----
Luna liked the smell of spell-burnt dust. The Great Hall usually smelled like toast or gravy, or on special days, honey and cinnamon and roasted things. But tonight it was stone and chalk and the crackle of something sour. The kind of scent that wrapped around the hairs of her arms and refused to leave.
She stood with the other students, most of whom were too tall to see over. It didn't really matter though if she could just watch her new friends. She watched the lights flicker in the enchanted ceiling instead, following the way the starlight dimmed and brightened in time with the crowd's excitement.
Someone must have linked the enchantment to Lockhart's heartbeat somehow. A platform had risen in the middle of the hall, it had a polished and shiny blue carpet on top of it, it reminded her of Lynne's eyes, so very blue.
"Welcome!" Lockhart beamed, his teeth a little too bright in the torchlight. "To the very first meeting of Hogwarts' Duelling Club!"
Applause scattered like crumbs. Some of the older students laughed at his antics. As he quickly introduced the purpose of the club, he also gave way to Professor Snape, who appeared at Lockhart's side like mold on a clean tablecloth. Apparently he would act as his assistant, and maybe the reason the scents were so chaotic today.
Those two couldn't be more different from each other, and Nargles were swarming the potion Professor, so that couldn't be healthy. She was sure his bad moods came from their whispers, she would have to ask Lynne for help.
"Professor Snape will kindly help me with a small demonstration today." Lockhart announced, puffing out his chest. "Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry, you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him. Never fear."
Snape inclined his head in something between loathing and permission. Luna looked confused for a moment. She had once read that some creatures blink slowly to trick prey into watching. Snape's expression had that feel.
They walked a few paces from each other on the platform then Lockhart tried to cast something fancy, with flair, but Snape was faster.
"Expelliarmus!" He shouted.
Luna blinked once and Lockhart was suddenly airborne, flying backward in a blur of purple silk and squealing vowels. He landed in a tangle of limbs and hair and his wand had to be recovered by a student as it fell down the platform. There were many amused laughs and a few concerned voices who asked if he was alright.
"Thank you." Lockhart wheezed from the floor, standing with wobbling dignity, picking his wand from the student. "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."
"Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor." Replied Snape with a smirk on his face.
Luna caught Lynne's glance across the crowd. Her expression was unreadable. She stood apart, just beside Harry, who Lockhart was now staring intensely at.
"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let's have a pair of volunteers. Potter, Volant. How about you?"
"I would suggest someone from my house, Professor. Miss Volant has been seen besting a seventh year student last year, quite violently I might add. I wouldn't like for the boy to get hurt." Snape said.
"Oh poofey." Luna murmured. "Lynne won't like that." Beside her, one of the first-years giggled nervously.
While Lynne stared daggers at the man, Lockhart continued unbothered, agreeing with the potion master.
"Draco. Come up here." Snape said.
As Luna stared at the blonde boy she could see he was nervous as well, it seemed that this was not something he agreed with. Harry climbed onto the stage, while Snape gave him a look that could curdle pumpkin juice. There were cheers and hisses from all four Houses as Malfoy joined the platform, wand already drawn.
"Good luck, Potter." Lockhart said and Harry gave him a nod.
"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart clapped his hands. "On the count of three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent, only to disarm. We don't want any accidents here. One, two-"
Draco cast first without waiting for the Professor to finish.
"Everte Statum!"
Harry saw it coming and he shifted, body already expecting it and the spell flew past him. The space between them was sharp, and the platform was narrow so trying to avoid most spells looked difficult without falling.
Draco tried again with the same spell a few times, but each step Harry took, each turn and dodge looked practiced, and the small space didn't seem to face him. It seems that Harry has everything under control, she mused.
Draco tried again, and another miss made him look desperate and frustrated.
Lockhart's voice slithered in. "I said disarm only!"
Harry flicked his wand. "Expelliarmus!"
Draco's wand shot into the air and clattered across the floor while his body was sent flying backwards. To Luna's eyes, that looked exactly like the demonstration her Professors just did. A few gasps from the crowd could be heard, before laughter broke out.
Draco was lifted by Snape and he retrieved his wand and tried again anger sharpening his movements. And then, he shouted another spell again.
"Serpensortia!"
A beautiful snake exploded out of his wand with a burst of greenish light, hissing, teeth bared. A few of the students close to the platform screamed in fear of the slippery animal. Luna wondered how the snake looked so alive. Was it summoned here, or was it something alive only by magic? Her thoughts were cut short as the snake slithered low across the platform, rearing back, eyes fixed.
Fixed on going forwards to Harry and he stepped forward ready to challenge the snake. And that's when it happened, because it was clear that she wouldn't let danger get close to Harry. She was a blur of speed and determination.
Lynne had her wand already pointing at the creature and a blast of silver light followed her movements, a snap of air like bone cracking and an explosion caught everyone by surprise. The snake detonated mid-hiss, not vanishing or fading, rather it turned into a mush of red colors and viscera splattered on the platform floor.
Screams multiplied this time at the gory scene and Luna was sure someone vomited, or at least it sounded like it. Lynne stood at the base of the platform, wand still glowing. Her face looked calm and Luna was sure she felt no regrets for the animal that lay now clearly dead.
The snake's remains steamed across the stones. The reaction of the professors looked funny to her, as Lockhart paled and Snape narrowed his eyes.
"I was wondering…" Luna said, her voice curious. "if it was a conjuration animated by magic, there wouldn't be blood, so this was real." She said looking at what was left of the snake. Her first-years friends were still huddled behind her, too shocked to speak.
Harry looked stunned but not really surprised, more like he didn't know what to do now, but Draco looked horrified at Lynne who hadn't moved yet but now she slowly lowered her wand. Luna's eyes drifted back to the pool of blood. The stain doesn't combine with the blue colors at all, she thought.
As murmured voices started discussing what they just saw, Snape snapped at them to silence.
"Miss Volant. I will speak with you privately later. And 20 points from Ravenclaw, for unsafe use of a dangerous spell near other students."
Lockhart regained a bit of color on his face as he commanded the demonstration finished for the day.
Luna, for her part, simply watched Lynne as she turned and walked out of the hall slowly, her shoes tapping against the stone with a sound much heavier than they should have made.
----0000----
Professor Flitwick's voice was gentle but firm as he waved his wand and repaired a shattered suit of armor against the wall.
"Remember: precision over power, and clarity over speed. Say the words clearly. A rushed spell is a broken spell."
Hermione adjusted her grip on her wand and nodded, though she was barely listening. Across the Great Hall, the makeshift dueling platform still stood, only now the atmosphere was less theatrical.
Flitwick had insisted on taking over the Dueling Club after Lockhart's demonstration left too many traumatized students. Now it felt like an actual lesson, with orderly pairings, safe spell boundaries, measured escalation. It should've been everything Hermione liked, except it wasn't.
Harry and Lynne were standing opposite each other on the platform yet again. The small Professor had gone and fetched Lynne after she killed the snake, and told her he thought she did a good thing protecting students from harm.
They had already gone through two rounds, a disarming contest and a hex deflection. They were smiling, or at least what could be considered smiling for the stoic blond girl, and Harry even laughed a few times while being forced to jump spells.
Lynne dodged a jinx that whistled past her shoulder, rolled low, and sent a low-powered stinging hex back that grazed Harry's ankle. He barely flinched before launching his counter. The duel was fast and looked graceful. A rhythm she couldn't match sadly. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek.
"Ready, Hermione?" said Padma, her sparring partner.
"Oh. Yes. Sorry." Hermione said quickly, raising her wand.
Padma and her both casted a disarming spell, and her spell really worked… but too late. The timing was sloppy and she knew it. There was no winner in this round, both girls had their wands now on the floor. Padma retrieved her wand and offered a friendly smile.
"Are you okay?" Padma asked kindly.
Hermione gave a stiff nod. "Just warming up." Just warming up. But she didn't feel warm at all.
When Flitwick called for rotating partners, Hermione stepped aside, hoping to avoid another round. She wandered toward the corner of the room where the light was thinner and the voices were duller as her eyes never left the platform.
Harry and Lynne were going again, this time with mock dueling charms meant to test timing. Fast flashes of light, parried spells, sharp footwork. Lynne pivoted like she was a dancer.
Still Harry caught her off guard once, clipped her shoulder with a tickling jinx that made her stagger, but instead of the expected frown, she offered him a small smile. They were clearly having fun, and she felt a small pang of jealousy at the scene, they were good. Really good.
Hermione wasn't used to being so outpaced. She wasn't used to feeling so… behind. She told herself it didn't matter. That they just had more practice and that eventually she would catch up.
At the same time, how was she supposed to catch up to them if they were also practicing and getting better at the same time as herself. Putting more hours into practice wouldn't be productive, and she would be left behind in more than just dueling.
She also remembered the sting of Harry's stinging hex earlier, the one that left a bruise on her thigh and Lynne's tickle jinx that made her collapse mid-cast. Although both of them had apologized, it made the thought all the more real, they had moved forward and without her.
"Feeling sore?" Flitwick asked kindly, having wandered over.
Hermione straightened. "Just observing, Professor."
He gave her a look, the sort of look he gave when someone lied politely.
"Watching is good." he said gently. "But don't forget to participate. You learn best by doing."
"I know…" she said, voice too small.
He patted her arms once and walked on. Hermione turned again and looked at her friends, Harry was panting slightly but smiling. Lynne adjusted her ponytail and offered her hand to help him up after he was unable to block a knock-back jinx.
Hermione turned away before she could see whether he took it.
----0000----
The library was quiet, even for a Saturday. Harry leaned forward on the table, resting his chin in one hand while his other traced idle circles over the wooden surface. Books were scattered between them, some open, some closed, most stacked in the way only Hermione could manage.
Lynne sat opposite him, her arms crossed, her gaze watchful but unreadable. Hermione turned a page with unnecessary force.
"I think we should do it."
Harry blinked. "Do what?"
"A Polyjuice Potion." she said. "We can brew it in the second-floor girls' bathroom. No one uses it, Moaning Myrtle scares everyone away."
Harry gave her a look. "Hermione…"
"We need to know if Malfoy's behind the attacks," she said quickly. "He's been bragging about 'mudbloods getting what they deserve soon.' He knows something. If he's the heir…"
"I don't think he is." Lynne cut in, voice calm but firm. "But regardless…Polyjuice Potion is not only difficult to brew, it takes too long, and it is also an unnecessary risk."
Hermione opened her mouth but stopped. Her fingers curled slightly against the edge of the book.
"I've already researched the ingredients." she said, quieter now. "It'll take a month to brew, but I can manage it. It's in Moste Potente Potions."
"I know how to brew one, you don't need the book. You would need the ingredients." Lynne answered.
Harry looked between them. "Yes, if I remember correctly we would also need hair or nails of the people we want to impersonate."
"Of course…" Hermione said. "But I figured we could-"
"But." Lynne said, her voice not sharp, but steely. "Let me say this clearly. If this goes wrong, you won't get house points taken. You'll get expelled as it is illegal to brew."
Hermione's shoulders rose, defensive. "It's not that risky…"
"It is." Lynne said. "You're not trained for deception. If even one Slytherin sees through your disguise you will be found. Also you would need to attack the people you are going to impersonate as they cannot be seen meanwhile."
"That's why it needs to be done well!" Hermione snapped.
An awkward silence took hold of the conversation. Harry exhaled.
"Hermione, no one's saying your idea is bad. We just-"
"I know it's not bad." she muttered.
Lynne shifted, leaning forward. "We can still spy on them. But let's do it in a way that doesn't get anyone kicked out."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"The cloak." Lynne said, glancing at Harry. "We follow them. Stay quiet. Wait for the right moment."
Harry nodded. "We've done that before, but we cannot ask exactly what we need to know."
"And." Lynne continued, "if we need them to talk, really talk, I can teach you both the Confundus Charm. We can charm Malfoy and his two lackeys at the same time."
Hermione hesitated. "That's… an advanced charm."
"I can teach you."
Hermione was silent for a moment, clearly debating if her idea was worth not learning the charm, you could see her mind working at full speed.
"If it fails we can go back to plan something else." Lynne said. "But we do it smartly."
Harry felt the tension in the air settle as Hermione's face relaxed. She looked down at her notes and tapped her quill against her parchment.
"I feel a bit useless now." she murmured, "I admit it is risky, I don't want to be expelled."
"You are not useless, Hermione." Harry said softly. "I actually did not come up with any plan, so you are being more useful than me at the moment."
Hermione gave a small nod and Harry reached over and lightly nudged her book back toward her.
"But we'll figure it out together. Talking between ourselves will make the plan better."
She managed a weak smile. Lynne didn't smile, but her eyes softened slightly.
----0000----
The roar of the crowd echoed across the pitch, amplified by magic and teenage adrenaline. Harry hovered midair, steady on his Nimbus 2001. His breath fogged in the crisp November wind, but his grip was dry and steady. He'd been waiting for this match for a long time.
Across from him, the Gryffindor team huddled near their goalposts. Oliver Wood was barking orders loud enough for the Hufflepuffs in the stands to hear. Fred and George cracked their necks in unison like stage performers. Cormac McLaggen, this year's surprise pick as Seeker, adjusted his goggles with a sneer aimed at Harry. From what his captain has said, Cormac was a poor seeker, and he wanted to be a chaser but the positions were already filled and wood was the better Keeper.
"Let's keep this clean!" Madam Hooch called, voice sharp as the whistle around her neck.
Harry didn't look at her. He glanced sideways instead, Lynne was already in position, beater's bat resting over her shoulder like a weapon of war. Her expression hadn't changed all morning, but he could see how focused and determined she was.
The whistle blew and the game erupted. Every player accelerated into motion. Chasers surged forward, Stretton, Burrow, and Davies carved through the sky in a tight triangle, flanked by bursts of red from Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet. Bludgers launched into the air with a metallic clang, spinning wildly and accelerating towards the field.
Harry climbed higher immediately, scanning the whole field. The Snitch wouldn't appear yet as it usually never did this early. But he had to look alert and confident. He watched his team move forward scoring the first goal. Lynne was speeding towards the other chasers and harassing them, until she could get the Quaffle from them and pass it on.
All of a sudden, a blur of black whipped past him close and he evaded… A bludger seemed to have it for him. It swung toward him like a predator, fast, intelligent and angry. Harry swerved left, and somehow it corrected its path. He dropped into a roll and it followed close.
"Blimey." he muttered, diving.
The bludger was clearly rigged to only go for him for some reason. He sped up trying to lose it. Then from below, a loud crack split the air, it was the sound of iron slamming against wood, and he saw the Bludger veered off. Harry spotted Lynne circling close to him. She didn't shout, didn't even glance his way. She had intercepted it mid-swoop, and now it was flying back toward the Gryffindor side like a curse let loose.
Another blur entered his vision but this time it was Randolph Burrow with the Quaffle, arcing over Angelina Johnson. A second Bludger came out of nowhere and Jason Samuels deflected it. Lynne was already adjusting her angle, hunting for the bludgers around her teammates.
The first Bludger returned and again, it ignored the other players, going straight at Harry and he had to ducked to avoid getting hit. It missed by inches.
It made a turn around as soon as it passed and again another crack followed. Lynne's bat intercepted, sending it spinning toward the stands before redirecting it straight into Katie Bell's shoulder with a sickening thump. She dropped just as she was about to intercept the Quaffle, then screamed and veered toward the ground. The Ravenclaw stand cheered while the rest of the audience gasped.
"Foul!" Oliver Wood shouted.
Madam Hooch waved him off. "Legal hit!"
With a small smirk, Lynne continued moving. "'Alright, focus, Harry." He muttered to himself.
Gryffindor hesitated now, their Chasers flew tighter, more cautiously. Fred and George tried to double up on Lynne, a two-on-one assault with twin Bludgers aimed at Harry. One she intercepted again with her bat, but the other that was already only following him, she just put her body in between. It hit her head with a loud wack, but she recovered fast and hit it away from Harry again.
The stands went quiet, people were already noticing something was wrong with that bludger, murmurs grew loud. Lynne kept intercepting the rogue bludger and the ones Fred and George were throwing at him.
He saw a small golden glint and quickly shifted his focus, if the game was over, the bludger would stop going for him, he was also worried about Lynne being hurt. He dove fast as he picked up speed behind the snitch. McLaggen attempted to follow him but he had to dodge a bludger coming for him after another deflection from Lynne pushed it away from Harry.
Tilting forward, Harry shot across the sky, heart pounding harder than before. The Snitch had been darting low, fast, nearly out of bounds, as he followed the instinct more than the sight, he went lower still, cutting through the cold air. He heard the crowd reacting again, voices rising, but he tuned them out.
The Snitch darted right, vanishing behind a Gryffindor goal hoop. He had to turn hard, feeling the broom strain under the pressure. McLaggen had finally recovered and was tailing him, but it was too late.
There the Snitch was back in view, wobbling in its erratic flight pattern. He pressed forward, arms locked and his broom perfectly level. He had to lunge forward to catch it, almost throwing himself off his broom. His fingers closed around the golden sphere, its wings fluttering madly between his knuckles.
The stands exploded in cheers. Above the noise, the announcer shouted. "RAVENCLAW WINS! 240 to 30!"
Harry rose into the air, Snitch in hand, chest rising with the exhilaration of victory. Distracted by the cheering sounds, and looking around his team that no doubt wanted to congratulate him, he didn't see that the bludger was still going for him even though the game was finished.
Lynne came to his rescue and grabbed the bludger mid-air with her hands, dropping the bat aside. Gasps rippled through the stands. Fred Weasley shouted something that Harry didn't catch. The ball writhed in her grip like a living thing, thrashing against her hold, and she had to use both her hands.
Lynne stared at it for a moment, then slowly closed her fingers. The sound of metal compressing was sickening, the feeling was making Harry have goosebumps. Her grip didn't shake as the bludger cracked and whined. It suddenly stopped moving when the ball was no longer looking like one.
She dropped to the floor once it stopped moving. The iron deformity fell onto the pitch with a dull thud making everyone freeze. Fred and George hovered at a distance, pale-faced. Cormac McLaggen had gone completely still. Oliver Wood stared, mouth parted slightly. Even his own teammates didn't know what just happened.
Finally she closed the distance and hugged him with one arm across his shoulders. "Great job, Harry!" And just like that the rest of the team followed cheering him on mid air.
Below, chaos resumed. Madam Hooch was still trying to restore order. Gryffindor players landed hard, battered and furious. Angelina was being helped off the field with a bruised shoulder. Fred and George were arguing with Madam Hooch, pointing at the ruined bludger still lying destroyed on the grass.
She moved slowly, dropping to the pitch like she'd never left it. The crushed bludger near her boots, she didn't step on it or kick it aside. She simply stood over it, one hand picking up her bat again, watching the reaction unfold around her.
Harry landed beside her, still holding the Snitch.
"You alright?" he asked, eyes searching hers.
She looked at him briefly and nodded. It seemed the bludger had done some damage to her as her hair was stained. Was that really blood? he wondered. It also looked like she had a bump on her forehead.
"How many times did you let it hit you?"
"A couple…I caught it in the end though. It was only going for you." she said, her voice neutral.
"I saw."
"The only option was to crush it."
"Yeah."
He turned slightly and scanned the crowd. Students were already talking, whispering to each other behind cupped hands. The only ones who didn't look uneasy were the Ravenclaw stand obviously.
"They're going to talk about that for days." he said, quietly.
Lynne's mouth twitched at the corner, a smug small smile decorating her face.
"Nothing new then."
----0000----
Colin Creevey tiptoed through the hallway, one hand gripping his camera and the other clenched around the strap of his satchel. His shoes made soft scuffs against the flagstone floor, barely audible over the thump of his heartbeat. He knew he shouldn't be out of bed.
But when he overheard one of the older Ravenclaws say Lynne Volant was in the Hospital Wing after the Quidditch match and that Harry Potter had gone to visit her and was staying for the night he couldn't resist.
It was the perfect opportunity. If he could get a photo of the two of them together, sitting close, maybe even smiling, he'd be the first. Everyone would want a copy. His name would be known for more than just being "the boy with the camera." He imagined the headline already: Harry Potter's Secret Visit: A Moment With the doll like Girl.
He crept past the statue of Boris the Bewildered, ducked beneath the tapestry that led toward the upper corridor, and paused by a window to steady his breath. The air was colder now, the kind of cold that made goosebumps rise up on his arms even through the sleeves of his pajamas.
Lost in his own thoughts he continued moving without much care, only looking out for a professor or other footsteps, but the only thing he heard was just the soft click of his own footsteps and the occasional rustle of his bag.
He turned the corner toward the Hospital Wing when something strange happened. A weird sound was coming from the corridor ahead. It slithered along the walls, thin as mist, yet somehow echoing through the stone, enough to make Colin freeze. He had no idea what that was, his body told him to run, but his fingers tightened on the camera instead.
"Hello?" he whispered, absurdly.
No one answered but then movement, a flicker of shadow along the far end of the corridor. A shape too large, too fast. Something scraping against the floor.
The strange sound returned, louder now, angry and eager. Colin's hands trembled, he raised the camera slowly, trying to focus on the dark ahead.
"Who's there?" he said again, weaker this time. As his gut clenched, his old Muggle instincts whispered for him to run away. But Colin pressed the shutter. For a fraction of a second, the world lit up as the sound of the flash hit the walls, corridor, and something else. Something immense and serpentine. A glint of golden eyes, like molten coins in the dark, too high off the ground, too wrong.
And then he stopped feeling his camera in his hands. Then he couldn't feel anything at all.
----0000----
After Harry finally fell asleep, she silently made her way out of the hospital wing. As she was navigating the corridors and hallways, she was startled by the petrified statue of Colin Creevey. It seems another attack had struck the first year student. She sadly couldn't do much to help him, so she moved on. Hopefully he would be found soon by someone else.
Lynne stood outside the Gryffindor common room entrance, concealed in the shadows of a narrow alcove behind the tapestry of Gillyweed Grove. The corridor was empty, lit only by the flickering orange of distant sconces. In her hand, she held a folded square of parchment, the password sheet she'd taken from Neville Longbottom two days ago.
She hadn't needed to drug him or frighten him. She only needed to wait as he always seemed to drop things. The Fat Lady stirred in her portrait as Lynne approached, blinking sleepily.
"Who goes-?"
"Wattlebird." Lynne said calmly.
The painting swung inward without another word. Inside, the Gryffindor common room was quiet and the fire burned low, casting long, sleepy shadows across worn armchairs and half-finished chess boards. She moved with a silent certainty, eyes scanning the girls' staircase first, no one was up it seemed, then the boys' dorms. Her feet made no sound on the carpeted floor as she climbed. She found the second-year boys dooms easily.
She opened the door and stepped inside. They were asleep, all of them. Ron snored the loudest, sprawled across his bed in a tangle of blankets, arm dangling off the edge. His wand was on the nightstand.
The rat was curled inside his cage. Lynne closed the door behind her and advanced without hesitation. She knelt at the foot of Ron's bed, reached forward, and whispering used a stunner on the rat. It stiffened in place, tail twitching once. She slid a pouch from her cloak, opened it, and carefully deposited the rat inside.
She made no sound or breath out of place and quickly exited the room. The entire operation took less than thirty seconds. She left the Gryffindor common room behind without looking back.
Out in the corridor again, she moved quickly as she passed no one. It was too late for prefect rounds and still too early for wandering students. No portraits stirred and no suits of armor creaked.
She exited the castle through the greenhouse stairwell, using a small charm to bypass the locked gate. The night air hit her like ice, but she did not shiver. The sky above was black and full of stars, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed slightly in the wind, their upper branches rustling like distant whispers.
Lynne entered the forest and did not slow her pace, the forest was closer than it seemed when one did not fear it. Thirty paces in, she stopped beneath a wide, gnarled tree, its roots twisted like sleeping serpents. Here, the ground was soft from rot and rain.
She pulled the rat from her pouch and set it gently on the ground. Scabbers didn't move, the spell still held. Lynne turned, scanned the trees, then raised her wand.
With a low breath, she summoned a large boulder from several meters away, a jagged piece of stone half-buried in the dirt. It rose from the earth slowly, grinding against earth and root.
Her arm trembled slightly as she levitated it above the rat, but it wasn't from strain or because it weighed heavily, she was hesitating as a thought haunted her mind all night. The boulder hovered in place, massive and uneven, gently turning in the air having no resistance against movement.
Then the voice returned faint, subtle, buried deep.
Monster.
She clenched her jaw. "I have to carry on my mission." she whispered aloud. "There's nothing else to consider."
Her fingers tightened and with a small motion, she dropped the stone. It fell fast, cracking the ground beneath it with a sound like thunder. The rock was too big for blood to seep on the edges, but she could hear the sound of cracking small bones.
She stared at the boulder, her breath came slow but she turned quickly and walked away, disappearing into the woods without looking back.
----0000----
The forest was quiet once more. No footsteps lingered, no spell light shimmered in the trees. Where Lynne had stood moments ago, remained only disturbed earth, a shattered rock, and something that had not been there before. The rat's form had changed and the quiet spectator marvelled at the sight.
Where broken fur and bone had been crushed beneath stone, a human hand now sprawled limp from under the granite, pale and bloodless. Fingers curled inward like a withered claw. The body, too mangled to rise, had shifted, twisted and expanded into a man.
A small and deformed Peter Pettigrew. His face was slack in death, one eye missing having popped out of his skull, the other still wide in panic. His limbs were crushed and bent in multiple ways, and the gruesome sight would disturbed anyone who happened to find it, if they managed to do so before nature ran its course and leave only bones.
The magic that kept him hidden, bound to his Animagus form, had broken, and his secret would die with him. It was the end fitting for a traitor, no duel, no mighty death. Killed by someone not even acknowledging who they were.
Far above, the single crow took flight, unnoticed.