Harry
It started at breakfast, Harry had expected the usual quiet presence of Lynne. Always calm, almost unblinking and focused entirely on her surroundings even when she appeared relaxed. She usually sat near the edge of their little group, quietly watching everything, ready to answer questions and help the group with their work and speaking only when necessary while everyone else ate. But this morning, she skipped into the Great hall as unbelievable as it sounded.
"Good morning!" she chirped, arms raised in greeting as she crossed toward them.
Her tone was cheerful, almost sing-song, even if it was hard to do so in the first place with her voice, and the grin on her face made Harry freeze with his toast halfway to his mouth. Ginny blinked, a mixture between confused and surprised. Even Luna stopped altogether, and she was already halfway through a conversation with a nearby painting, getting the girl to stop doing that was quite difficult.
Harry just stared unsure what was going on.
"Lynne?" he asked slowly.
She stopped in front of the tables and spun once, as if showing off her robes.
"Harry!" she said brightly, then added in a conspiratorial whisper. "You look so much better than I expected."
Blushing he exchanged a glance with Ginny, who looked equally confused and a little worried. Lynne was never so expressive and she definitely never skipped.
"Are you… feeling alright?" Harry asked.
"I'm feeling wonderful, never felt better." she declared, then she moved where Luna was and ruffled her hair. "There's so much to see and do... You are adorable, Luna. Can I hug you?"
Luna beamed and lifted both arms. "Sure!"
To Harry's horror, Lynne not only hugged the small girl, She had actually spun her around, scooping Luna up under her arms with a soft grunt and twirling her in a half-circle before gently setting her down again.
It looked quite cute although he would never admit it to anyone. Luna was breathless with laughter, while everyone else looked like they were watching a memory charm go wrong in real time.
"You can pick me up so easily." Luna said, delighted.
"Strong arms." Lynne said with a wink, flexing her metal prosthetic playfully.
Harry was so put out by her behaviour that he almost gave up on eating, and it only got weirder. She sat in the middle of their usual spot at the Ravenclaw table and insisted on sampling everything. Porridge, eggs, sausages, several pastries, two kinds of juice.
She hummed while chewing, made little notes on what tasted "funny" or "tickly" and kept offering her toast crusts to the students who were staring at her, just in case they were after her food. Harry was sure they were in fact, not after her food.
Hermione would have had a theory by now. She would have grabbed Harry's sleeve and whispered urgently about mind magic or possession or maybe Polyjuice, though she would've ruled that out fast. Polyjuice potion could only keep the disguise for an hour, and they had been with her for that time already.
No, if he had to theorized, this was the same Lynne from the end of first year. He could guess that something happened to her which made her have her episodes earlier, and no doubt she was in need of whatever Thorne did to her in the summer again. And just like last time, this didn't feel right at all. As they were making their way back, she started talking to the suits of armor that were placed on the way to the Ravenclaw common room.
She asked them questions about how they came to be, their battles and their purpose. Even complimenting a very grumpy knight's polished weapon. One of the enchanted helmets clanked and turned to look at her and she waved cheerfully. Harry leaned towards a still perplexed Ginny.
"Is it just me, or…?"
"She's completely different." Harry whispered. "It's like someone different took her body."
"I haven't been close for long but even I know this is very weird." Ginny replied.
"Yeah." Harry muttered. "I don't know what is happening to her."
She wasn't just smiling. She was expressive, wide-eyed, curious about every little thing. She asked about spellwork, even ones they had learned months ago, and made a show of practicing levitation in the middle of the hallway just to "see what it felt like today".
And when she got a feather stuck in her hair, she laughed, actually laughed, which sounded as harsh as he remembered it, from the last time on the train going back. It was light and sudden, and Harry realized with a strange pang that this had been only the second time ever to hear her laugh so freely.
And yet, he didn't feel relieved. He felt… wrong-footed. Whoever was standing in Lynne's skin, wearing her face, moving with her voice wasn't the girl he'd grown used to. It felt like this wasn't his friend, even though she had never looked as happy as now.
In a way it made him feel guilty. It was like a version of Lynne that didn't fit her face at all. One that carried herself with genuine innocence and wonder for the broad world, but it made no sense that was before him now.
She seemed younger, more her age or maybe even younger than that. When they settled near the windows after lunch, she curled up in the seat like a cat, her arms around her knees, humming a tune softly as snow drifted down beyond the glass.
Luna sat beside her, content and Ginny was still watching her like a riddle she couldn't solve. Harry missed Hermione dearly, he needed someone who could tell him this wasn't possession, brain damage or magic gone wrong. At least offer a solution or a lead to look into it.
He needed someone to help him understand, to help him solve this confusion and mostly he needed to understand if this was good or not for his friend, at first glance she looked like a very content and happy person, but deep down that wasn't his friend at all and he felt a bit guilty wanting his friend back.
These conflicting feelings were also quite new for young Harry as he never cared for someone as much as he did for Lynne.
----0000----
Virgil
Virgil hadn't slept very well since the Crimson Wing's newest appearance had broken the news of the Daily prophet. It wasn't just the frightening number of fourteen dead in one night, it was the reminder that someone was still hunting remnants from the last war, and specifically the ones allied to he-who-must-not-be-named.
The names weren't printed while the article danced around specifics but if Crimson Wing was involved, it was probably just like last year. He feared that he would become one of those names once he got out of Hogwarts, just a forgotten face among many, killed by someone who couldn't move on from the past.
It brought back memories he didn't want. Memories of tense conversations at home, whispered warnings from his father and although he was too small to remember fully, it terrified him. He tried to push it down, to breathe through the tightness and think about his NEWT project instead.
The translation spell was nearly there. He had been working on it for months, parsing old incantation structures with Lynne's help. The goal was simple, to be able to cast once on a physical book, and each page would shift to a preferred language until dismissed. It was delicate work, layering visual enchantments with language logic without altering the text itself, and you had to actually learn the languages in order to come up with the thoughts and intent behind the spell.
Lynne had practically solved the core issue in an afternoon, muttering quietly while flipping through reference books. He remembered watching her, absorbed and impossibly precise, her hand moving in short, sharp gestures as if conducting an invisible machine. She'd asked him loaded questions while challenging his assumptions and worked in a solution with him without second thought.
Today though, she had not come to the library at the time they had arranged. She had never before missed one of these so he exited the library to find her. When he eventually did find the girl, she was walking through the castle, smiling at the staircases and waving at the suits of armor, which didn't look at all like usual blonde girl.
He briefly wondered what was up with that, and stopped close to her, arms folded.
"Lynne?" he asked cautiously.
She spun gracefully and grinned once she took a good look at him.
"Virgil!" she said. "I was wondering when I'd see you. Did you know the glass here is warped just enough to make the snow look like stars? Who even comes up with that?"
Virgil blinked. "What? Nevermind that, you missed our arrangement, we agreed to meet in the library."
"Oh, sorry. I forgot." she said, stepping forward with a bounce in her step. She forgot? That sounds even more impossible than the enchantments on the glass, he thought.
"I've just been... exploring! There's so much in this castle I never looked at properly before. Everything looks very pretty, you as well actually."
Virgil frowned and for a moment was not really sure what to answer. "Are you alright?" he finally asked.
Her expression softened. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him in a sudden, loose hug. He froze awkwardly, confused, and completely unprepared. She was quite small compared to him, so her head was at his chest level. Her hair smelled faintly like a clean soap and still air, like bedsheets just folded and tucked away and her cloak was wet, probably having been outside in the snow.
"I'm okay." she said. "I'll help you in a few days, when the holidays are over. Just... not today, alright?"
"Uh. Okay." he muttered, staring past her head.
She stepped back and smiled at him, not with the usual stoic self or tight politeness, but something open and oddly gentle. Then she waved and walked away, humming under her breath.
Virgil stood there for another full minute before shaking himself back into motion, something wasn't right. He couldn't make any sense of what just happened. He found Harry in the study room later that evening, hunched over an old book and half a mug of cold cocoa. The window beside him was fogged with condensation.
"She hugged me." Virgil said flatly.
Harry looked up. "She hugged you?"
Virgil nodded, clearly disturbed. "And she said she would not help me with our project for a few days."
Harry sighed, setting his quill down. "She's been like that for two days. It's... I don't know what it is. I'm researching it, but I have no clue what is going on."
"Did she hit her head?"
"Not that I know of?"
"Did she ate something? Maybe it had a potion in it."
"I have never seen her eat anything at school until she actually started behaving like that." Harry said. "She's... just like a different person, all of a sudden. And she won't say why or what happened."
Virgil sat across from him, folding his hands together.
"It really does look like she's someone else." he said. "I will help you research, I want my friend and project partner back."
Harry smiled at him and nodded.
----0000----
Harry
Lynne had been like that for three days. Three full days of smiles and laughter and twirling through corridors like the castle was new to her. She asked the paintings how they were feeling, left notes for the ghosts, and tried to toast marshmallows over the Great Hall candles until a teacher scolded her.
She wasn't loud by any means, just very bright and innocent. Like someone had turned her inside out and made her warm, soft and impossible to predict. And as sudden as the change happened, it went away and now she was back with her usual cold expression.
Harry stared across the common room where she sat, posture once more straight, gaze distant but focused, arms folded neatly over her knees. She was not humming or bouncing anymore. Just there, like before, with an expression that was as unreadable as the books she would have at times.
"Lynne?" he asked.
She turned her head toward him, keeping her face void of emotion. "Yes?"
He hesitated. "You... seem better."
"I was unaware I was unwell." she said, not sarcastic, just curious. Her voice carried the old quiet weight it always had. Her eyes searched his face for a hint, but there was nothing mischievous or playful there.
Harry sat beside her, unsure where to begin.
"You've been... different the last couple of days. Really different."
She turned her face back to her book and frowned, as the reflection of the common room fireplace careressed the glass of her eyes, she checked her pocket watch which had the date of the day.
"I don't remember much then." she said softly.
Harry frowned. "You don't remember anything?"
"No. I woke up in my bed this morning, which was weird as I don't really sleep. My satchel was packed with different books than I'd chosen. I found a scarf I don't own and notes written in my handwriting about Nargles and pudding textures."
Harry gave a soft, disbelieving exhale.
"And you don't... feel like something is wrong?"
"I know something was wrong, but not right now." she said. "My hands felt tired, like I'd been using them too much. And my hair had a feather in it."
He laughed weakly. "Yeah, you got a feather from Meena stuck in it while practicing levitation on purpose." remembering the disbelief looked on the first year girl.
She turned her head sharply. "That's silly, why would I practice that."
"Exactly."
They sat in silence for a moment, the fire crackling quietly nearby.
"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" she asked at last.
"I don't think so." he said quickly. "Just surprised everyone mostly. You hugged Luna a lot, you even hugged Virgil."
Her brow furrowed. "Uh oh."
"Yeah."
"I see." She tapped her metal fingers lightly on her knee, each sound soft and distant. "I will apologize later."
"I don't think you did anything wrong." Harry said. "It wasn't bad. Just... not you at all."
She said nothing to that. "Well, let's hope it doesn't happen anymore."
"Do you even know why it happened?"
"I have an idea, my mentor will know, I will ask for his help later." she said.
Harry couldn't help but worry.
----0000----
Harry
A week passed without incident. January settled over the castle with long shadows and brittle wind that scraped the stone walls. The days blurred together with classes, snowdrifts and late evenings at the study table.
Lynne remained Lynne this time around, no weirdness returned. She was still sharp, composed, rarely speaking unless asked directly. She returned to help Virgil with his project and apologized for hugging him although he waved her off, as if nothing happened. Harry assumed it was awkward for him as well.
In private he still helped Harry with research into what could have happened to her. She was now helping Luna untangle a knot in her scarf with a quiet efficiency that reminded Harry of her old self. But the version of her who hugged people and danced and smiled wide had vanished without a trace.
When Hermione returned near the end of the week, Harry met her in the library with urgency in his step. He told her everything in detail, and although she looked concerned, she didn't interrupt.
She just stared at him while he explained Lynne's sudden change, her strange behavior, the way she felt like someone else. How she had returned to normal after two days, unaware and confused.
When he finished, Hermione's brow was tight with thought.
"We need to look into magical possession." she said immediately. "And magical identity splits. There are records of people having fragments of memory sealed, or cursed artifacts that cause dual awareness."
Harry nodded. "I thought that too. But it didn't feel like something dark. Just... strange. Also you have to remember she told me she is not entirely human. So we could look into that."
"Strange doesn't mean harmless, and yes that is something we should research as well." Hermione said, reaching into her bag for a notebook. "Was there anything that might have triggered it?"
He shook his head. "Not that I know of."
They pulled books from shelves for hours, flipping through pages about curses, magical personalities, memory fractures, enchanted objects. Hermione flagged terms like "soul binding" and "possession entities" Harry just watched Lynne across the library as she returned a stack of books and sat down beside Luna again without saying a word.
At one point, Luna leaned over the table to see what they were doing.
"You should ask my dad. He knows all about things that live in heads. Like Whispermoths and Mind Taproots. It might be one of those."
Hermione blinked. "Those aren't... proven magical creatures, Luna."
Luna tilted her head. "Lynne believes them to be real actually."
Hermione didn't even offer an answer or retort and continued researching. Harry wondered quietly if there were more than one person living inside Lynne's body. And if so, why was it the complete opposite of her.
----0000----
Draco
The taste of failure lingered longer than the one of blood. Draco sat on the edge of his bed, boots still muddied, hands raw from the cold wind, still trembling faintly with exhaustion.
He hadn't changed out of his Quidditch gear yet. The green and silver cloak had half-frozen stiff with melted snow and sweat, and it was beginning to be uncomfortable. His gloves and arms protection were on the floor, damp and crumpled.
It had been utterly awful. The match against Ravenclaw had started badly and spiraled fast. They played like wolves, all speed and spite now. Slytherin's beaters struck back, escalating the game into something closer to war than sport.
Four students had ended up in the Hospital Wing before the Snitch had even been sighted. And even among all that chaos, all that rage in the air, Potter had still caught it before him. It didn't matter that it had been a very close match, if in the end they lost to the ones with the most points. The cup was now almost lost even if they still had a match left to play.
Draco swallowed down the knot in his throat and leaned forward, elbows on knees, trying not to glare at the far wall like it owed him something. There had been bludgers flying at his face, mud in his eyes, and still no excuse felt good enough. No explanation could take back the way the common room had fallen quiet when they came back without the win.
No cheers, just tired faces and angry whispers. Flint muttered to someone that everyone had done their part except him. That had stung and although a few tears threatened to escape his eyes, he reined them in.
His entire body ached, his left arm had gone nearly numb from blocking a rogue bludger near the end, and his shoulder still throbbed from a dive gone wrong. He was tempted to ask Madam Pomfrey for a potion, but he didn't want to show his face in the Hospital Wing to his injured teammates, not after that performance.
The echo of the match still clung to him, the roar of wind, the sting of air against his skin and the humiliating silence of his teammates being dwarfed by the cheering from the Ravens. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.
He really hated losing. He hated Potter's stupid face when the crowd roared for him. Hated the emotionless face of Volant after she sent two players out of the game, injured. Hated how quiet the Slytherins were now, all those eyes that used to nod when he passed by avoiding him like he carried dragon pox.
Draco stood up and tore off his robes, throwing them toward the trunk at the end of his bed. They missed and landed in a heap beside it. It wasn't fair, he thought lamely. He had trained and practiced until exhaustion. Not only had he been present during his team practices, he had actually taken his free time to the skies. He had even asked her mother for tips on professional matches from her time.
He should have had this victory. Instead, he had limped back into the common room, wet and bruised, while Potter soared past the stands with the Snitch clutched in his hand, surely then to party in his common room. The worst part was he couldn't even blame someone else. His mind had gone blank during the final chase, his hands had slipped when it counted. He had seen the Snitch, gone for it and lost.
He dropped onto the mattress and stared up at the canopy of his bed, breathing shallow and quiet. His body ached but the pain felt numb. He closed his eyes, he didn't cry or scream. He didn't rage even, that would have been childish. He just lay there, still wrapped in the weight of his robes and sweat and shame, letting the cold soak in through the window cracks and settle deep into his bones.
He just wanted to disappear, at least until everyone forgot. Or until he found a way to make them remember him for something he could be proud of.
----0000----
Lynne
She had known for some time now that something must have gone wrong. Lynne was certain that she wouldn't lose control again anytime soon, but at the same time, it was scary to think that she couldn't push it, she couldn't give it her all without potentially letting the other soul control her.
She had reviewed the evidence clinically at first, ticking boxes in her mind as if preparing a report. But facts were no comfort, they did not explain why the other soul inside her could take control if she just exhausting her magic.
She sat beneath the cold arch of the Ravenclaw tower, snow pressing against the glass like quiet hands. The world beyond was white, weightless, and far away. She pressed her fingertips together, metal against metal, and stared at the window until her reflection blurred into the frost. She would have to come up with contingency measures to ensure that even if she lost herself again, she wouldn't be a problem for her friends.
The only comfort was that whoever the other soul was, she wasn't malicious, that much Lynne was almost sure of. She had seen the aftermath in the laughter of the others, in the stories they whispered when they thought she was not listening. Luna's smile had been bright and she could still not get her to stop hugging her. Virgil had looked baffled, but unharmed.
So it was not an enemy, but it was still a threat to her mission, a malfunction of sorts. She tapped the side of her head with her finger once, then again, then slower a third time. Her grounding gesture in order to quiet her mind. Speaking of, the voice inside had been quiet since she resumed control, but she could still sense it there, resting, like a curled-up creature beneath the surface.
She had tried to speak to her like previous times, but there had been no answer. She wished her mentor could help her but she had written to him that morning, asking for instruction and he had not yet returned word. She knew he was busy so she wouldn't press and this wasn't exactly an emergency.
But the silence itched at her nerves. She needed recalibration, the rituals and mind conditioning in order to continue at the highest efficiency possible. But she also could not leave Hogwarts yet, Harry needed protection, many times they had been given that lesson, even among the walls of the school, it wasn't safe.
There were still threats, both seen and unseen and she couldn't just vanish and leave her mission behind. Lately it was not only her mission that was important, she had grown fond of him, against better judgment. It was a strange thing, having a friend who she cared about.
She had catalogued the symptoms long ago but never expected to encounter them firsthand. And yet, when he smiled, she felt something lighten in her chest. When he frowned, something tightened. He was not Thorne obviously, but Harry was becoming close second. Followed by Luna as well, the girl was just too cute and warm, she needed to be protected as well, mission or not.
Her thoughts went back to the other soul residing in her. She wondered if she could somehow get rid of her, or even if she should. She sounded almost harmless most of the time, and instead of going against her mission, she actually stuck with her friends most of the time.
She felt uncomfortable with the situation though, like she was just a vessel. A shell made to carry what others could not. And although she knew that it was per design, and that she was a construct meant to house a soul, they had made the mistake of putting together more than what they should. She had accepted it through the years, but it had never taken control before.
Still, uncomfortable or not, Lynne didn't think the other person was an intruder or a parasite. She felt the girl was even more suited for her body, a curious, warm and naive mind fitted more with her own body. She was not like Lynne at all, but she clearly wanted to live as well, and feel the joy and wonders of being alive.
She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. She would not tell anyone about it for now, she had to make her own research regarding multiple souls and then from there see what solutions could be found. Maybe she could find a way to get her out of her constructed body and into another one and both could live without issues. She would have to talk with her mentor over the summer, make sure he is aware that the other soul is not a threat and that maybe he could give her a body.
Lynne opened her eyes again and stared out at the snow-covered grounds. Below, students moved like ants in dark coats, tiny sparks of color against the white. She resolved that she would worry about it later, and with the help of her mentor maybe she could find a better solution.
----0000----
Harry
The Hospital Wing always felt colder than the rest of the castle. Harry stepped through the tall doors, his footsteps muted by the polished floor. Rows of beds stretched in neat lines, white sheets tucked with sharp precision. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, pale and weak against the winter sky.
The room smelled of soap, clean linen, and the faint tang of potion ingredients. Most beds were empty now, students from the last Quidditch match already healed. Only two remained occupied and he was visiting one of them today.
Colin Creevey lay motionless on the second bed from the end, eyes open yet blind, a stiff smile frozen on his face. A stiff white lily rested on the bedside table, almost lost among Madam Pomfrey's vials and folded cloths. Harry felt the familiar sting of guilt as he approached, the same ache that had followed him since the night Colin was found. Apparently the only reason why he was out that night was to get a picture of him.
His camera rested on the nightstand, its strap neatly coiled, lens cap still off. They had taken it from his hands, to try and get the picture of the attacker but it had been broken in the attack as well.
For a while, after the attack, there had been whispers, glances, questions. The professors had tried to maintain calm. The other students had mourned. But as days stretched into weeks, the fear dulled into a kind of background noise.
He pulled a small parchment from his pocket, smoothing it flat. The note was simple, just a get better soon wish that Hermione told would probably mean a lot to him when they get him un-petrified.
He set the parchment beside the lily. Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind a curtained bed, carrying a tray of fresh bandages. She caught his eye and offered a gentle nod.
"He will be fine once the Mandrakes are ready," she said quietly, setting the tray down. "Professor Sprout says they will reach maturity next month. The potion will be brewed the same day."
Harry exhaled, relief and worry tingling inside him. "Does anyone visit him?"
"The Creeveys are muggles so the headmaster has deemed it safer for them not to come." Her voice softened. "Not many students come by, though. I'm assuming because he is a first year student, he didn't have much time to make friends yet."
Harry glanced down the silent aisles, only a few empty bedsheets and freshly folded blankets. The whole heir of Slytherin had vanished somehow, and the only one suffering was Colin.
"He'll be alright." Madam Pomfrey said, placing the vials into their slots beside the bed. "Once the mandrakes are fully matured, we'll be able to brew the antidote. It's just a matter of time."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on his shoulder, brief and steady. "You were right to come."
Harry nodded, unable to find words, then stepped away. He left the Hospital Wing, letting the door fall shut behind him with a soft click. The corridor beyond was almost empty, lit by globes of pale light that swung gently in an invisible draft. His footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, it seemed not many students were close at the moment.
A sharp bang cracked the silence and made Harry freeze on the spot. The sound echoed through the stone halls, a second later, another one. There was nothing magical about it, he knew what those noises were. His heart seized, he had only ever heard a sound like that once, back in Surrey.
That was gunfire, there was no doubt about it. His mind struggled to process it. Who would bring a gun to Hogwarts?! The idea felt wrong, alien even. There were already spells that could injure, stun and maim. A gun was muggle technology, no one would think of bringing one of them here. Especially not technology that was made to kill in a world where there were no healing spells or potions.
Another bang followed and he felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He spun toward the sound, hand reaching for his wand. He broke into a run, shoes slapping against stone, adrenaline surging. Around the corner, students were scattering, shouts rising in confusion. A heavy door at the far end banged open, and a startled Hufflepuff first year stumbled out, eyes wide.
"Get back inside, now!" Harry shouted, grabbing the boy's sleeve and pushing him toward the classroom again.
Harry pressed on, the corridor beyond smelled of smoke and metal, hot and acrid. Panic clawed at him but he forced himself to move forward, maybe he could help somehow, he had been practicing with Lynne, time to put it to the test. Even if he was terrified, he moved forward.
----0000----
Dumbledore
The quiet hum of the infirmary was broken only by the rhythmic tapping of Madam Pomfrey's wand as she worked. Spells flickered in the low light. Dumbledore stood at the far end of the ward, beside the high bed that held Lynne Volant. Her body was still, her shirt cut away to reveal a thick bandage wrapped across her chest.
The cloth was stained with something that wasn't quite blood, darker, thicker, and sluggish in how it soaked through the weave. She had survived three bullets, almost point-blank range, fired by Argus Filch in full view of a dozen witnesses.
"Merlin preserve us." Dumbledore murmured under his breath.
Snape stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, his face pale and drawn. He had carried the girl in himself, cloak soaked, eyes wild with urgency. He had a lot to say, it painted a very troubling picture, one where Lynne had been attacked in broad daylight, and that only her inhuman resilience had saved her life. And now they could even already confirm the reasons behind the attack.
And what they gathered haunted Dumbledore, which surprisingly wasn't just the injury, it was why it happened. Argus was stunned, lying unconscious and watched over by Flitwick in the corridor outside. Severus had already done the necessary, as he had pressed his wand to the old caretaker's forehead and used legilimency on him to extract everything they could to understand what led the man to do something so despicable.
The man's thoughts had been chaotic, distorted. A heavy fog hung over much of his recent memory, but in flashes, Snape saw it clearly enough. He has seen the image of Mrs. Norris, stiff as stone, lying in the corridor weeks ago.
He saw Lynne's face superimposed over that memory again and again and emotions of fear and anger. Snape had seen a cloaked person, that in whisper and low voice, convinced Argus that she had done it. That she had harmed his beloved cat and would do so again.
And then he saw the same hooded evil, offering him something small, cold and heavy. The muggle weapon, a gun that should have never seen its way into Hogwarts under any circumstance. Dumbledore had barely suppressed a chill. He'd seen gunfire before of course, many years ago, when the muggle wars got mixed up with wizards due to the involvement of the late Dark Lord, Grindelwald.
But more unsettling still was type of memories present on Argus' mind. Severs suspected that his memories were tampered with. It was not the work of an amateur, it could have fooled lesser wizards, but not his trusted spy. And deep within the memories, he felt a flicker of compliance as well.
Which could mean that he was easily influenced to hurt the girl or worse, they used the Imperius Curse on him. Dumbledore exhaled slowly, watching the candlelight dance in the polished edge of a nearby cabinet. He had been so sure that the school was beginning to settle, that the danger had receded, however briefly.
Now he felt that old pressure building again behind his ribs. His students were not safe, and although not many would see the threat in muggle technology, the muggleborn students certainly were aware of what happened. And Lynne Volant, whatever she was, had once again bled on school grounds. Although it was preferably that she was the target as she seemed to not die quite easily, he began wondering why.
She had not cried out or even whimpered, apparently even injured she had managed to disarm him. She had not complained, even when Snape had pulled her from the pool of thick crimson on the stone floor. Her face had been blank, but her arms had twitched, muscles firing as if preparing for a fight, even as she collapsed.
She was, in every sense of the word, unnatural of course, they had suspected as much the last time she was at the Hospital Wing. She was a construct of a ritual or soul magic, not even him with all his knowledge could figure it out.
A small click drew his attention. Madam Pomfrey snapped her wand shut, her hands trembling slightly as she folded another cloth and placed it gently at Lynne's side.
"She'll live." she whispered. "Though as I warned you before, it's due to her uniqueness, her body doesn't seem to require most normal organs as we do, so there is not much I can do to help other than patch her up."
Dumbledore nodded once.
"She needs rest, and she must not be moved. Do you know if her guardian will come?" Pomfrey added with a dark look. "I don't even know if I want that man in this room though."
He didn't answer immediately. His thoughts were elsewhere, already assembling the facts and what had happened, picturing the Board of Governors' inevitable demands, Lucius Malfoy's smug expression, and how little patience the Ministry had left for excuses.
How many attacks could Hogwarts withstand before his enemies could ask for him to stand down as headmaster? And what would happen if the girl died? He looked down at her again as her eyes remained closed. It really was fortunate that she would be fine.
He dreaded having to contact Thorne, and was thinking if he could avoid it somehow. The main problem would be the amount of witnesses and that probably some students already had contacted their parents via owls or were sure to do so soon.
"I will contact him but I'm unsure if he will come, like you, I'm hoping that he doesn't."
The wind howled outside the windows, Dumbledore looked outside while his thoughts went back to the girl again.
"Who is trying to kill her? And why?" he muttered.