The morning of the match broke bright and filled with hoarfrost filled with hoarfrost, sunlight flashing off the frozen spires of the castle. Students poured into the Quidditch stands, house scarves flying, their breath steaming in the crisp air.
Harry adjusted his Ravenclaw scarf and leaned over the railing, his heart racing as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams circled above, brooms cutting sharp patterns against the sky. The crowd roared with every near-miss and every goal.
Hermione sat two rows back, already taking notes, while Lynne stood at the edge of their section, her eyes moving ceaselessly, cataloging movement in the stands with mechanical precision.
Lynne's posture was tense, shoulders slightly forward, one hand hovering near the sleeve that usually harbored her wand. She was looking uneasy but Harry didn't notice.
He was too busy leaning closer over the rail, following the Quaffle's rapid arc across the pitch. Then he heard it. A voice, faint and strained, carried up from the lower stairs beneath the stands.
"Help… "
Harry blinked, straightening. He glanced back at Hermione, but she was focused on her parchment. No one else seemed to react. Only Lynne, half-turned now, her metal fingers flexing, her body sharpening into awareness.
He heard it again. "Help… please… "
It was coming from under the stands. Somewhere close. Without thinking, Harry slipped through the crowd and began hurrying down the narrow wooden steps.
He didn't see Lynne immediately fall into step behind him, her footsteps silent against the boards. The noise of the crowd dimmed as he descended.
Below the stands, the light faded quickly, shadows crawling between the thick beams that supported the seating above. A few maintenance brooms leaned against the wall. Stray bits of dropped food and lost scarves littered the corners.
And there, near the far end, he thought he saw a movement.
"Hello?" Harry called out.
No answer. Just the soft creaking of wood overhead, and the faraway roar of the match. He took another step forward. That was when Lynne's voice snapped sharply behind him.
"Harry. Back away."
He turned and the spell hit him squarely across the chest.
The world shook violently. Pain exploded across his ribs. The ground rushed up to meet him. Harry crashed into a support beam, crumpling to the ground with a grunt, vision swimming, his wand skittering out of reach.
Above him, footsteps approached fast.
----0000----
Lynne didn't hesitate. She moved faster than thought, her wand snapping out from her sleeve in a single fluid motion. The 7th-year Slytherin burst from the shadows, face twisted, another curse already forming on his lips, but he was too slow.
"Reducto."
Lynne's spell hit him first, an almost soundless snap of impact. The Slytherin's wand jerked from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor as his hand was now nowhere to be found .
He cried loudly. Lynne was already there, crossing the gap between them in two strides. She drove her shoulder into his chest, slamming him against the support post with an impact that rattled the wood beams overhead.
The boy gasped, folding over. Her metal fingers closed around his hair keeping him from falling on the floor. There was a sharp, audible pop as her first connected with his face and he howled in pain.
"Diffindo."
She casted a cutting curse hitting his uninjured hand, successfully negating the threat, he wouldn't be able to grab his wand anymore with any hand. Lynne's wand was pressed to his forehead before the scream fully left his mouth.
"Stupefy." she said coldly.
The boy whimpered, crumpling to the ground. Lynne turned immediately to Harry. He was conscious, blinking dazedly, blood trickling from a shallow cut above his eyebrow.
She knelt, checking him with quick, clinical movements.
"Broken ribs. Internal bleeding." she murmured, more to herself than to him. "Shallow concussion ."
She aimed her wand at Harry. "Brachio emendo."
After fixing his ribs and checking him up again, she gave him a Wiggenweld Potion. She was sure that Harry would be alright, maybe a few hours in the hospital wing and more potions would help as well. Harry tried to speak but only managed a groan.
Above them, the crowd's cheers faltered as the commotion spread. Students and teachers began descending, drawn by the noise. Lynne stood in one smooth movement, stepping protectively over Harry, her wand still drawn, her body positioned squarely between him and the stunned attacker and whoever might show up.
The first people to arrive skidded to a halt at the sight. Hermione among them. For a moment, there was only silence. The Slytherin boy was lying unconscious on the ground, one of his hands missing and the other one with a huge cut, a lot of blood pooling over.
And Lynne was calm, motionless, standing watch over Harry like a silent, unbreakable sentinel. Someone puked.
----0000----
The world stood still for a heartbeat. Students crowding down from the stands halted abruptly at the edge of the lower stairwell, faces wide-eyed and pale. Whispers rippled like static through the crowd. Someone gasped. A Ravenclaw prefect stepped back, visibly recoiling from the pool of blood slowly spreading beneath the crumpled Slytherin boy.
Professor Flitwick pushed through the gathering mass, his short frame moving with surprising speed for a man his age. His sharp eyes took in everything at once.
For a moment, he thought he had stepped onto a battlefield again. The Slytherin boy lay crumpled on the stone, blood staining the ground around him. His right hand was gone below the wrist, his forearm still twitching faintly from the trauma. His other arm, brutally slashed open. He was stunned unconscious and barely breathing.
Standing between the wounded boy and the fallen Potter was Lynne Volant, looking calm and still. Her metal hands glinted under the light of her wand, still lit by the last spell she had used, lowered but not yet sheathed. Her stance reminded him of professional duelists, guarded, cold and ready to strike again if needed.
"Clear back! All of you, clear back!" Flitwick barked, his high voice slicing through the rising panic. The students obeyed, stumbling backward.
Flitwick knelt beside the wounded Slytherin, muttering rapid spells under his breath. A soft golden glow issued from the tip of his wand, slowing the blood loss, sealing the worst of the damage. Flitwick moved on instinct, years of practice overriding his shock.
He stabilized the boy's injuries, sealing flesh, stanching blood. One wrong move and the boy would be dead within minutes. Only after the worst had been patched did he allow himself to look at Lynne properly. She hadn't moved. Flitwick approached slowly, cautiously, like one might approach a cornered hawk.
"Miss Volant." he said quietly. "Put your wand away. Please."
There was a heartbeat of tension, so thin he thought he might hear it snap. Then Lynne, mechanical as a clock winding down, tucked her wand away inside her sleeve. He took his wand out.
She hadn't reacted out of rage and she hadn't even reacted out of fear. He could almost admire it, if he weren't so chilled by the precision of her violence. He took a careful step toward her.
"I will check on mister Potter now."
Volant nodded once in relief, perhaps, or silent acknowledgment and stepped aside. Flitwick exhaled softly through his nose, relief mingling uneasily with something heavier. He examined the boy-who-lived briefly and concluded he wasn't in danger but he was still hurt.
"Escort Mr. Potter to the Hospital Wing immediately!" he ordered two older Ravenclaw prefects.
They hesitated only a second before rushing forward to help Harry upright, supporting him between them as he stumbled slightly. They jolted into action, lifting Harry gently, speaking to him in low, urgent voices.
When he looked back at Lynne, she had already straightened, hands at her sides, eyes unfathomable. That, more than anything, made Flitwick's throat tighten. He saw it now, the truth that most students, even most professors, would miss. Lynne Volant was a weapon. By design.
"And Miss Volant." Flitwick said, his voice lower, grave. "You will accompany me. Now."
Lynne inclined her head once. Silent and obedient. But her expression was unreadable, cold as the frost still clinging to the castle walls. He levitated Rowle carefully and they started heading to the Hospital Wing. He was already dreading to think about the punishments.
The hospital wing was too bright. Harry blinked against the white light streaming in from the tall windows, his head pounding dully in time with his heartbeat. The world shifted slightly whenever he tried to sit up, so he gave up and stayed still.
Madam Pomfrey bustled nearby, her wand flashing silver as she worked over another bed, the unconscious form of Septimus Rowle. Bandages wrapped thick around his torso, his arms, his remaining hand.
Harry shifted slightly, wincing as his ribs protested. Footsteps approached. He turned his head just enough to see Professor Flitwick enter, his face unusually grave. Behind him came Professor Sprout, Professor Vector, and a tight knot of Ravenclaw and Slytherin prefects, whispering and arguing under their breath.
At the center of it all, still and expressionless, stood Lynne.
She hadn't been allowed to leave. Her arms were crossed neatly behind her back, her metal fingers glinting under the hospital wing's sterile lights. Her face betrayed nothing.
Flitwick called for quiet with a sharp gesture.
"This matter will be handled internally," he said, his voice clipped, sharper than Harry had ever heard it. "No student will speak of it outside this room. Am I understood?"
There were scattered nods. No one dared object. Harry tried to sit up again, wincing, but Flitwick motioned for him to stay down.
"There will be consequences." Flitwick continued. "Both parties are responsible for breaking school conduct, regardless of circumstance."
A Ravenclaw prefect stepped forward.
"Sir." she said carefully. "Volant says Rowle attacked Potter. Unprovoked, and he could have made serious damage."
Another voice, sharper, cut in. He assumed a Slytherin but he couldn't see him as he tried to turn only to feel pain in his chest.
"But look what she did to him!"
All eyes turned toward Lynne. Harry's fists clenched in the bedsheets. Flitwick's mouth tightened.
"Miss Volant." he said slowly. "You exceeded necessary force, I will not allow you to maim another student again."
Still, she said nothing. Not a word of protest. She stood like a statue.
"Your wand will be confiscated," Flitwick said. "Effective immediately."
A small, collective murmur rose among the students. Harry caught the glint of fear in some eyes, Ravenclaws and Slytherins alike. Lynne reached into her sleeve, withdrawing her wand with precision. She handed it over to Flitwick without a flicker of expression.
"I will take Mr. Rowle's as well and both you and him will serve detention." Flitwick added. "Separately. You will not cross paths again within these halls."
Harry opened his mouth, ready to argue, to say something, but Madam Pomfrey shushed him gently, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. Flitwick gave no room for discussion.
"It is done."
He turned, wand in hand, and the crowd began to disperse in uneasy silence. Hermione appeared at Harry's bedside a few minutes later, her face pale, a furrow between her brows.
"You're lucky." she said softly. "Madam Pomfrey said it was a concussion, a few cracked ribs. Nothing permanent."
Harry grimaced. "What about Lynne?"
Hermione glanced over her shoulder, where Lynne now stood alone, gazing quietly out one of the high windows.
"She's fine, but... Everyone's scared of her now." Hermione whispered. "Even the Ravenclaws."
Harry swallowed hard, he didn't know what to say. He felt Lynne loved magic and she just gave it away for some time in order to protect him, but he also thought that such violence was not necessary.
At the same time, he grimly remembered that he had promised to be better in order to protect his friends and ended up not being able to do anything about it. In fact, he felt guilty again, if he had stopped to think for a second before rushing in, he could have realized it was a trap or at least let a professor help instead if it wasn't.
Now, his best friend was wandless and he felt horrible about it.
----0000----
The halls were quiet when Harry slipped out of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had gone to fetch another batch of potions, and no one noticed when he eased the door open and made his way down the corridor toward the empty classroom where they would usually practice together.
He knew where she would be. Lynne sat at the far end of the room, her back straight, her hands resting neatly in her lap. Her head snapped to him watching him as he approached.
"Hey." Harry said softly from the doorway.
She looked concerned for a second before masking it behind her usual demeanor. "You should be resting."
"I know."
He came in slowly, the sound of his trainers barely echoing on the stone floor.
"I just…" He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to say I'm sorry."
That made her blink at him.
"You're injured, I almost failed to protect you, I should be apologizing." she said, voice quiet.
He shook his head. "They took your wand. It was my fault."
He sat across from her, folding his hands tightly in his lap.
"You did it to protect me." he added. "If only I hadn't rushed towards danger like that..."
Lynne stared at him for a moment. "I would do it again."
He swallowed hard. "I wouldn't want you to. You hurt him… Badly."
She didn't flinch. "He meant to kill you. His intent was clear."
"I…" Harry whispered. "It's just… I keep thinking that it shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Everyone makes mistakes, all that matters to me is that you are alive."
Harry looked down unsure what else to say, truth was whenever he tried thinking about what happened he would remember the blood, the screams and it made him feel ill.
Lynne's face was still and unreadable as always.
"Lynne. If I wasn't the one involved, would you have just stunned him?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the floor. "Was hurting him like that my fault too?"
Lynne tilted her head slightly. "I stopped when the threat was neutralized, there are ways to stop a stunner, I minimized the risks, it was not your fault, if I was alone I would have done the same."
Harry blinked.
"I calculated the minimum force necessary to prevent him from trying again. Disabling his hands was the most efficient option."
He looked up at her then, really looked.
"I don't know if I could've done that." he admitted.
"You're not meant to."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I want to protect you as well, but I don't want to hurt someone like that."
Then Lynne said "You shouldn't feel guilty for what others do for you. You are my best friend, Harry. I really don't mind parting with my wand for you, it's temporary either way."
"But without it, you cannot do magic, you will fall behind on classes."
Truth is, he knew she didn't really care about classes, but he was thinking about what it would be if they would have taken his wand away. Being in the wizarding world without being able to do magic would be devastating for him.
She gave him a small smirk. "I still have my hands, they will give it back for exams, don't worry."
Harry didn't smile at that, but he did feel something settle in his chest, not comfort exactly, but something like reassurance.
"Will you be alright?" he asked.
"I've endured worse." she replied. "Besides… Hmm, can you keep a secret for me, Harry?"
He hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. "Of course."
She opened her cloak slightly, revealing the faint glint of a secondary wand tucked beneath the lining.
Harry's eyes widened. "You… you have a spare wand?"
"A secondary wand just in case, you didn't actually think I was unprepared, did you?"
He nodded slowly, quietly relieved.
"I don't want you to get in trouble for helping me again." he said.
She turned her gaze toward the window, where the snow had begun to fall again in soft, drifting flakes.
"Trouble... " she said, "It's a very small price to keep you alive."
As always, Lynne left him feeling conflicted again.
----0000----
Hogwarts rumour mill ran wild, painting the picture of a demonic first year that had ruthlessly attacked a 7th year, as if that was even possible. Virgil was sure it was all a plot to bully the skilled blonde girl. It was clear that the Ravenclaws who had tried to mess with her now found another accident to claim as her fault.
There were so many versions and theories of how it happened that it was ridiculous to even begin to think of them as the truth, and as always when it involved Harry Potter, be it his first flying lessons or the troll attack incident, no one actually knew what happened and greatly exaggerated the events.
Someone had it out for the first year which oddly enough didn't seem to think it was such a big deal, she was still walking the halls as if nothing was happening around her. Somehow she had befriended a Gryffindor that would follow her around and that seemed to be enough for her to not mind anyone else.
It was still refreshing to have the focus placed on those rumours, it seemed that the attacks that were building momentum had stopped for now and the Daily Prophet had nothing but speculations about the murderer "Crimson Wings", but nothing else. The distraction made him feel at ease.
He was still not going to join in with the rest though, he saw no need to bring a little girl down when she had clearly outsmarted the older year students, but it was sad to see how others were so quick to join in at pointing fingers at her. No one dared to make a move at her obviously.
If the rumour that she was capable of maiming a 7th year was true, no one had a chance at doing anything to her other than annoy her. Even if she had her wand confiscated, there were rumours her prosthetics were powerful enough to send people flying.
He laughed at the absurdity of the depth of the rumours, how low his mighty house had fallen if that was what they could come up with to try to ostracize a little girl that knew how to defend herself from older bullies.
The 6th year student made up his mind at that moment, he would befriend her as well, just to show her that not everyone was an idiot, it would be a nice distraction as well from the heavier topics.
He would have to find her first, which sometimes was difficult, but they were in the same house, surely it couldn't be that hard.
----0000----
Hagrid wasn't used to feeling nervous in the Forbidden Forest. He had mapped almost the entirety of the place after all, he could understand the creatures that live there, and there were not many things that could spook him.
He had walked these paths since he was a boy, and no creature, no whisper of wind or rustling leaf, could ever truly frighten him. But tonight, something was off. He walked with a lantern in one hand and his crossbow slung across his back, the cold air pressing against his skin like damp wool. Fang padded quietly at his side.
Behind him, Harry's friend, Lynne, followed silently. She made no sound as she moved, not even when dry branches cracked underfoot. Her presence was a shadow behind his shoulder, constant and unreadable. It felt like he was being stalked by Nundu.
Well maybe he was exaggerating a bit, but the uneasy feeling was there with her behind him. He had seen her take care of a dragon without a moment of doubt and it had given her quite a cute look. That was totally gone tonight, replaced by the most unattached face he had seen on a child.
She hadn't spoken since they left the castle. Hagrid had tried, at first. He had tried to explain what they were looking for, someone was attacking the Unicorns and they had to figure out what was causing such a ruckus. But she looked uninterested in the reason behind their forest visit.
"Used to be, detentions meant scrubbin' cauldrons." he muttered aloud, more to fill the silence than to complain. "Now it's all forest and gloomy fog, eh?"
There had been no answer at all. He cleared his throat, glancing back once. She was looking at him. She wasn't even looking around, calculating and sharp. That made his stomach twist. They reached the old clearing by the stone arch. The place was quiet, but the air felt too still, too dense. Even the insects weren't singing tonight.
"Alright." Hagrid said, trying to sound lighter. "We'll circle the edge, then head back. Jus' routine, nothin' outta place, the herd should be close from here."
Lynne gave the smallest nod. They walked another five minutes before Hagrid noticed it. A presence. Faint but wrong. Like the forest had taken a breath and hadn't let it out. Then, up ahead, movement. A hooded figure, slim and rigid, like floating between the trees.
"Stay here." Hagrid said quickly, holding out an arm. He saw that the hooded being was after a unicorn, this was it, he was preparing the crossbow to aim and fired at the intruding creature. He fired when he was sure it was going to attack but instead of connecting, the creature just batted the bolt away with incredible ease.
This made him stop dead in his tracks, something that could bat a bolt out of the air was incredibly dangerous, and he was unsure of such a creature of humanoid form. They had to turn back and get back up. The creature continued without a care in the world, clearly intending in hunting down a unicorn. But Lynne didn't stop.
She was already moving, wand out, she shouldn't have one he briefly thought, and he noticed it was different from the last time she had visited. Hagrid cursed under his breath and followed. The hooded figure turned, his face not visible through the shadow threads. An eerie feeling crept through Hagrid's body.
He saw Lynne raise her wand.
"Confringo." he heard her say.
The blast hit the ground near the shadow's feet, sending up dirt and roots. It cried out, flying backwards. Another step and she was on him, her wand snapping forward.
"Depulso."
The creature raised their sleeves and dodged, barely. The spell grazed its shoulder, spinning it sideways into the trees. It made no sound as it got up without pausing for a second. Then a hissing sound echoed from the shadowy creature but Lynne didn't falter. She moved after him, her wand aimed, her free hand clenched in a white-knuckled fist.
Then as she was about to attack again it flew high and fast into the forest, like an animal running for its life. Hagrid saw Lynne not chase it as he expected. She stood there, watching, like she was listening to something else, her shoulders rising and falling slowly. Hagrid caught up, out of breath, crossbow drawn.
"What in Merlin's name was that?"
A sudden rustle nearby made them both freeze. From the shadow of the trees stepped three centaurs, their eyes luminous in the dark, their movements slow and grave. One stepped forward, a tall, silver-maned figure with a deep scar across his chest.
"You have disrupted the evil presence tonight." the centaur said.
Lynne lowered her wand but didn't step back.
"The stars shifted." another said behind him. "And not of their own accord."
"You walk a path not written in your blood." the scarred one continued. "A path not meant to be open. You do not belong here, forged girl."
Hagrid held up both hands.
"Firenze! She is just a student" he said carefully. "We were after the creature attacking the-"
"Your visit was written in the stars, Hagrid." the centaur cut in. "She was unseen."
Lynne met the centaur's gaze, challenging to try anything.
"Your fate is clouded, they shouldn't have brought you into this world." the centaur replied. "You are an abomination, just like the evil you chased away, leave these lands."
With that, the centaurs aimed their bows at her. Lynne stood silent. Hagrid exhaled, wiping his brow.
"Well, we can be reasonable, righ' friend?" he muttered. "We will leave in peace."
He saw Lynne's hand tightened once more around the backup wand. The centaurs nodded and slowly lowered their bows. Not wanting to anger the hoved creatures, he also lowered his crossbow and placed a hand on Lynne's shoulder, guiding her back.
He briefly wondered what the centaurs meant, but at the same time, he knew that they made no sense most of the time, and the girl didn't seem interested in what they said so he saw no reason to overthink it.
As they walked back through the darkened trees, Hagrid kept glancing sideways at the girl beside him, her face unreadable in the flickering light of his lantern. She hadn't said a word since the centaurs vanished, and maybe that was what unnerved him most. He'd seen danger before, seen violence too, but never in someone so young, and never with such purpose.
The kind of thing you saw in experienced hunters maybe, but not students. And for the first time, as the trees thinned and the castle lights came into view, Hagrid wondered if Lynne Volant really was human at all. Ironically, if she wasn't, Hagrid wanted to know what type of being she was and how he could take care of her.
"Hagrid." She said breaking the silence. "How about you repay me the help I gave you with the dragon by keeping quiet about my spare wand?"
"Aye." he said after a pause, voice low with understanding.
Truthfully, he shouldn't have a wand either and he still had the broken pieces made into an umbrella to be able to still use magic, he was the perfect person to understand that no one that didn't deserve it should be stripped of their means to make magic.
"I'll keep quiet." he mumbled.
----0000----
The infirmary had long since gone quiet for the night. Madam Pomfrey slept behind the curtain in her private chamber, a silencing charm stretched across the threshold.
The torches burned low, casting flickering shadows across the white-tiled floor. Septimus Rowle stirred in his bed. He wasn't fully awake yet. The painkillers made his head swim. One arm had been numbed to the shoulder. His other wrist was wrapped in spell-woven bandages.
They had regrown his bones on his hands, and gave him potions and essence to regrow his flesh. It had been painful and exhausting, but he was going to have his hands back with only scars for evidence.
He groaned and shifted. And found that he couldn't move. His eyes snapped open. A shape sat at the foot of the bed. Still. Silent. She didn't wear her school robes this time. Volant sat in the dark, elbows on her knees, chin resting lightly on her hand as she watched him wake.
"You're healing slower than expected." she said softly. "Or perhaps you're just weaker than I thought."
Rowle tried to sit up, but ropes he couldn't see pressed him back into the mattress. Wards flared once in pale white around them.
"You…" he rasped, voice dry. "You're not allowed to-"
She tilted her head. "Like you are allowed to kill a student?"
He fell silent. Her eyes flicked to his bedside table, to the wand he no longer had.
"I am going to give you a chance." she said, reaching into her cloak. "This will be your only warning."
Septimus flinched as she drew something small and silver from inside her cloak. It was a thin and polished blade.
"I don't enjoy this." Lynne said matter-of-factly, examining the edge. "But pain is language. And you need to speak clearly. Why did you attack Harry Potter?"
Rowle's mouth went dry.
"I was ordered." he blurted. "It wasn't me-"
She met his eyes, and he stopped.
"Who?"
He swallowed hard, shaking his head.
"I can't, my brother will kill me."
She reached forward, pressing the blade gently to the bandaged stump of his ruined hand. He screamed.
"I won't ask again."
Rowle buckled instantly, the words tumbling out of him.
"Lucius Malfoy, he ordered it. He said if I did it, my family would be taken care of, that we'd be back in favor, please, I didn't know he was targeting you as a scapegoat, I failed, please stop!"
She pulled the blade back and set it down beside her on the bed, as if finished with it. Rowle sobbed quietly, the terror still raw in his throat. Lynne stood.
"You're lucky you failed." she said, voice low. "If something happens to Harry, you will die from here onwards, I don't care who does what. "
Rowle didn't reply. He couldn't. She leaned forward slightly, her voice just above a whisper.
"Think it through… perhaps it's best you don't remember we had this conversation at all."
He nodded frantically.
She unsheathed a different wand and Septimus' eyes went wide in surprise.
"Good. Obliviate."
----0000----
Lucius Malfoy's study was quiet. Too quiet. The fire crackled softly in the marble hearth, casting golden light across polished bookshelves and carved serpentine wood. An untouched glass of firewhisky sat on the edge of his desk, fogging slightly in the cool air.
He stared at the envelope before him. Thick parchment. The Lestrange seal mocking him for his failure. He had known what it was before he even opened it. Now, the photograph lay on his desk.
A terrified Draco looked in horror at the one who took the picture, face bruised, hair disheveled and wet, robes torn like he'd been left in the dark for hours, his hand red, clutched to his chest, tears in his eyes.
Lucius was paralyzed at the scene. His hands were still folded together, his knuckles pale. But his jaw was clenched, a slow pulse ticking just below the corner of his eye.
She hadn't signed it. She didn't need to. The message was clear.
Try that again, and next time, I won't return him.
His fingers slowly reached for the edge of the photograph. He turned it over. Nothing on the back. Not even a bloodstain.
"She is waging war." he muttered. "I am not prepared."
"You already started one."
Lucius looked up sharply.
The door hadn't opened. He hadn't heard anyone enter. But Thorfinn Rowle stood by the fireplace now, broad-shouldered and glaring, his dark coat damp from winter frost. His wand was still holstered, but his hand hovered too close to it for comfort.
"You sent my brother to die." Thorfinn said. "You fed him to that creature, just because you lent me some money to make my escape of azkaban."
Lucius stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve.
"I gave him a task that would have repaid your debt in full. He failed."
"You used him." Thorfinn growled. "You knew she wasn't normal. That thing-"
"That girl." Lucius interrupted, sharply. "Is very much alive. And she made her position abundantly clear. She has been smart and ruthless so far, I underestimated her."
He gestured to the photo on the desk.
"I failed to recognize she is not playing fair. I wanted to believe that she was honorable and a puppet of Dumbledore to help the boy-who-lived somehow."
Thorfinn studied his face for a moment.
"You are recognizing your mistake at least. You will not send my brother to die because of your failure. Galleons I can pay eventually, I won't pay with the life of my brother."
"Agreed, I cannot make another move on her either way for now."
Thorfinn stepped forward, eyes blazing. "So what? We let her walk through the school untouched? Pretending to be a student while she breaks bones and slits throats?"
Lucius held up a hand. "We do nothing."
Thorfinn froze. Lucius looked down at the photograph once more.
"Not yet."
There was silence. A long one.
"She doesn't know who she's dealing with, I will have vengeance for my little brother." Thorfinn muttered.
Lucius shook his head slowly.
"No." he said. "We didn't know who we were dealing with, now it's becoming clear."
Thorfinn left without a word, the door closing behind him like a final sentence.Lucius stood in the silence for several long moments, the photograph still lying face-up on his desk.
Draco's crying face stared back at him, bruised and slack, afraid. He reached forward and turned it over again, not because he couldn't bear to look, but because he needed to think. Coldly. Without the ache behind his ribs twisting his logic.
One thing was certain, he had to keep this from Narcissa. She loved the boy too much. If she knew he'd been bound and hidden, if she saw that photo, the look in her eyes would not be grief but fury. And fury, in her, was harder to stop than any curse. With a swift motion, he burned the photograph with a flick of his cane.
He'd already hidden the first wave of whispers. The ones about Lynne's duel. The ones about the wand confiscation. Originally he was ready to go to the board of governors with the fight, blame the girl and have her expelled, it was a move that would take time and make people leave her alone.
Now that plan was scrapped, it was too risky, if Dumbledore were to deny the request to expel her, she would have plenty of time to target Draco, or even Narcissa to get to him. She knew who orchestrated the attack.
No, having her at Hogwarts was better, occupied with playing friends with the boy-who-lived and not hunting the Malfoy family down. No one could ever know how deeply he had miscalculated. And yet… he had. Lynne Volant wasn't a girl. She was a soldier bred by the last war, skilled with sharp wit and ruthless precision.
He had already sent word to Gringotts. There were no vaults in her name. No family holdings. His contacts at the ministry informed him she had no listed bloodline in any of the pureblood registries. No estate or guardian. Nothing.
Somehow the Ministry had no record of her birth. No wand registration. No magical guardianship. Not even a signature on Hogwarts' enrollment parchment. Who had admitted her? He wondered. And why had no one asked?
He considered sending someone after her. A private team with a curse-breaker and an assassin, someone who could unravel what she was, and how to break her. But with no idea where to find her it was going to be difficult.
Every operation he thought of ended the same way, blood, backlash, Dumbledore's scrutiny. He couldn't afford that. Not now. And if she had sent that photograph, what else had she kept?
The thought made his fingers twitch, his son didn't send a letter to him these days, but he also didn't receive letters from the other families in Slytherin he would usually keep in contact with.
So Lucius concluded that he was let go by her and for some reason didn't want to tell his father what happened or worse he was obliviated. His brain went into overdrive in desperation and anxiety. He would have to come up with a solution soon. For his family.
----0000----
The Ravenclaw dormitory windows were letting a bit of moonlight in, casting shadows on the floor. It was here that Lynne sat, arms resting across the ledge, her fingers curled loosely against the stone. Looking out the window for some reason gave her clarity at times.
She had broken into Harry's room to watch him sleep peacefully and remind herself that she hadn't failed her mission yet. Her metal hand tapped a melody she didn't know the name of.
She closed her eyes. She could still hear the impact. The sound of Harry hitting the stone, the edge of the wooden beam splitting. Her body had moved before she thought, before she calculated. That had been new.
It was unsettling. She should have felt nothing, but she had felt something. She was trained to act without hesitation. But at that time a surge of panic went through her body. And now at times she could hear a voice, mixing in with her thoughts. It was faint but definitely not hers..
"He shouldn't have been hurt."
Her eyes snapped open.
"Not again."
She stood abruptly, her footfall louder than it should have been. She scanned the room where the two boys slept. There was nothing there, but her breath had caught, caught like a gear inside a jammed mechanism.
She pressed a hand to her temple.
"Stop." she whispered.
The voice faded, she didn't know whose voice it was. It wasn't hers, it wasn't her master and it wasn't her mission. It was something else.
Memories of a few years of life came to her, memories that weren't hers. The shadows in the dream moved like smoke, curling through a space Lynne couldn't see clearly. She needed a recalibration soon, luckily the school year was coming to an end and she would be going back soon.
----0000----
His sheets were damp with sweat, and the room was too quiet. The dormitory showed only darkness and no sounds strangely came to his senses. He would usually hear the soft snores of Anthony. He sat up slowly, rubbing at his scar. It didn't hurt. Not exactly. But it felt warm. Something was coming, and it was a rather ominous feeling.
All of a sudden cold sensation sat on his forehead. It jolted him awake in an instant and he scrambled to find his glasses. Once he had them on he saw Lynne looking at him with a worried face. She was just sitting on his bed as if that was a normal thing to do.
"Nightmare, Harry? " she whispered.
"Bloody hell, what are you doing in my room?"
"I was watching you sleep, of course." her gaze softened.
He flushed at her statement, as if nothing awkward was said.
"So what woke you up, you alright?"
He looked at her for a moment then shrugged.
"Just a dream. Since when do you break in my room to watch me sleep?"
She went thoughtful for a few seconds.
"I began after the holidays."
"You are going to wake up Anthony at some point and it's going to be awkward."
She snorted, "He sleeps like a rock, I could transfigure an elephant and have him roar like a lion and he would sleep through it. "
Harry blinked. What a strange thing to wake up to, Lynne making a joke.