Evelyne, Unmasked
It happened late in the evening, near the greenhouse path.
Lucien noticed first.
The way "Draco" hesitated.
The way her shoulders shook—not in fear, but exhaustion.
Lucien stopped walking.
"Evelyne," he said gently.
She froze.
Slowly… she turned.
Her mask cracked.
"I—I can't do this anymore," she whispered, voice trembling.
"Being him. Being loud. Being cruel. Pretending I'm not afraid."
Tears welled in her eyes.
Lucien stepped closer.
"You don't have to," he said softly.
Her knees buckled.
Lucien caught her easily and pulled her into his chest.
She sobbed.
"I just wanted one friend," she cried.
"One person who wouldn't look at me like I'm broken."
Lucien lifted her chin.
Her cheeks were red.
Eyes watery.
He smiled.
And gently—so gently—he patted her head.
"You're cute when you blush, Evelyne."
Her face went scarlet.
"L-Lucien—!"
He hugged her properly this time.
Warm. Safe.
No expectations.
From that moment—
Draco Malfoy ceased to exist with him.
🧠 Dumbledore Tests the Depth
That same night, in the Headmaster's office—
Dumbledore stood alone.
The Pensieve shimmered.
"I must know," he murmured.
Not out of suspicion.
But awe.
He dipped his wand.
Memories unfolded.
🏡 The Truth of Lucien
A modest home.
Laughter.
An elderly couple smiling warmly.
Two girls running toward a crimson-haired boy—
"Sis!"
"Lucien!"
Dinner tables.
Warm blankets.
Stories before sleep.
A small boy holding the hands of two old people—
"We trust you," they told him.
"Protect them."
Then—
Peaceful passing.
No screams.
No blood.
Just love.
Dumbledore felt his chest tighten.
Then came Lucien—seven years old—standing tall, taking responsibility.
Not bitterness.
Not rage.
Gratitude.
The memory ended.
Dumbledore removed his glasses and wiped his eyes.
"So that is why," he whispered.
Why Lucien thanked him.
Why he never blamed him.
Why his heart was already full.
Dumbledore leaned back.
"There are no limits to test," he said quietly.
"Only values."
⚡ Akeno Claims Her Place
The whispers didn't escape Akeno.
Evelyne.
Girls watching Lucien.
Eyes lingering.
She didn't sulk.
She didn't hide.
At breakfast—
Akeno walked straight to Lucien.
Sat beside him.
Took his hand.
And leaned in.
Lucien blinked.
She smiled sweetly.
"I'm his," she said calmly, eyes sharp.
"And he's mine."
No hostility.
No arrogance.
Just truth.
Lucien squeezed her hand.
The message was clear.
And respected.
Even jealousy bowed to confidence.
🐍 Evelyne Chooses
At the Slytherin table—
Evelyne stood.
Silence fell.
"I'm not sitting here anymore," she said clearly.
Eyes turned.
She walked past Flint.
Past Pike.
Past Vance.
Past Valerian Selwyn—who couldn't even look up.
She stopped at the Hufflepuff table.
Lucien looked up.
She smiled.
And sat beside him.
Slytherin murmured.
Not in anger.
But realization.
Valerian had become a liability.
An embarrassment.
A fool chasing fame.
And Lucien?
Lucien was power with loyalty.
Slytherin understood one thing well—
Backing the wrong person gets you destroyed.
Backing the right one gets you protected.
The Selwyn Mistake
The Selwyn family tried.
Quiet pressure.
Letters.
A Ministry complaint.
Accusations of intimidation.
It lasted three days.
Then—
Ted Tonks filed paperwork.
Dumbledore confirmed jurisdictional immunity.
The Black family released documents.
And suddenly—
Old Selwyn accounts were audited.
Connections exposed.
Bribes surfaced.
The retaliation collapsed under its own weight.
Lucien never lifted a finger.
He didn't need to.
Valerian Selwyn became invisible.
No allies.
No protection.
No name worth remembering.
Meanwhile—
Lucien Aurelius Peverell Lionhardt gained something rarer than fear.
Chosen loyalty.
From Evelyne.
From Slytherin pragmatists.
From Hogwarts itself.
And in the pocket dimension—
Bayonetta smiled.
"My love," she whispered,
"You don't rule with death."
"You rule with devotion."