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Undercroft, Hogwarts, day after Dumbledore's talk with Lucas.
I step into the Undercroft, the familiar chill of the stone walls wrapping around me. The room is dimly lit by enchanted candles, fitting to my mood and that of the other within. The silence is broken only by the distant hum of Hogwarts above us and the murmuring of Ominis and Sebastian in the background. This place, once a secret refuge, now feels like a sanctuary of memories, both good and bad - a mix of what all of Hogwarts have been like for me. Good… And bad.
Tonks is already there, pacing back and forth, her hair a wild mix of colors reflecting her turbulent emotions. She sees me, and in an instant, she's across the room, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace. I can feel her trembling, and I hug her back just as fiercely.
We'd both been kicked out of the medical wing at separate times, so we hadn't actually been able to see other awake and conscious, even if we had been able to talk mentally for our peace of mind.
It just wasn't the same as laying your eyes on the other person and seeing that they were fine.
"Lucas, you bloody idiot!" She exclaims, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. Her own are filled with tears, anger, and relief all at once. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? You scared decades off my life!"
"I'm sorry, Tonks," I say softly, my voice catching. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." I tried so hard to make this go better, I only sped the steps along…
I'd have to do better going forward, after my first bout of depression over the matter, I shook it off as best as I could, acknowledging that there wasn't much else I could have done. except perhaps to talk to Dumbledore, which I'd likely be forced to deal with from now on. Whether I could trust him or not, I still needed to at least acknowledge we were on the same side, and not spell myself in the foot out of pure spite.
She huffs, her hair shifting to a stormy gray. "Sorry doesn't cut it, you prat. You could've died! You and Harry both! And that curse, it was almost you Lucas… I can't - " Her voice breaks, and she buries her face in my shoulder, sobbing quietly.
I hold her close, feeling the weight of my mistakes pressing down on me. "I know. I know, Tonks. I messed up. I should've told you more. I should've trusted you more, shouldn't have held it all back."
She sniffs, pulling back to look at me again, her eyes red but fierce. "Damn right, you should have. We're a team, Lucas. We're supposed to look out for each other. How am I supposed to do that if you keep all the important stuff to yourself?"
I nod, unable to meet her gaze. "You're right. I promise I'll be better. I'll share more. I can't do this alone." Not everything, but… The Basilisk situation can't happen again!
The cost had been too high. I'd assumed it was a problem for next year, when I could have slipped the information on how to enter the Chamber of Secrets to Dumbledore at any time and had the Basilisk killed. I wouldn't, couldn't, share everything.
But I'd have to at least try and spread information around a little going forward, to prevent these kinds of situations. I didn't take the blame on myself for Quirrell and Voldemort in the end, realizing it was always going to end up being me and Harry there at the finish line, once I got on their radar.
The Basilisk… That one was on me. No ifs and buts about it. I could have stopped it anytime over the entire year.
She smacks my arm lightly, then hugs me again, tighter this time. "You better, or I'll hex you into next week." She says, breaking my train of thought as she suddenly grasps my face between her hands and kisses me.
My brain freezes, as I taste citrus and salt, her lips so utterly soft, before she pulls back, sighing, "You were blaming yourself again, I'm going to reset your brain every time you do that." She says sternly, although her lips are quirked in some amusement at my expense.
"Bwha?" I manage, my brain rebooting.
"Eloquent." Sebastian drawls from his portrait, and even without thinking, we both give him the finger, gaining an amused huff from the Slytherin portrait at our synchronicity.
"Tonks… We're going to be siblings in like two months." I say awkwardly, trying to not stare at her lips. Having an adult mind was more trouble than it was worth sometimes - even if most of the memories were still locked away.
"So? Ever heard of kissing cousins?" She asks, crossing her arms, pouting at me. And when Tonks pouts, she really pouts, her lips growing slightly, gah, stop looking at her lips! And her eyes perfecting a puppy dog look, the amusement shining through them as she plucks my distracted thoughts from my head.
"Tonks…" I say warningly, not at all prepared to deal with… Anything like that.
She sighs, "Fine, fine, just consider it a statement of intent." She pokes me in the chest pointedly, "I staked my claim, when you're old enough for it to not be weird…" Here she pauses, staring at me, for you, her stare makes perfectly clear, before she continues, "You're mine and that's all there is to it!"
Shameless, utterly shameless. I think, rolling my eyes at her proud grin as she hears that with her cheaty mind reading, "I'll… Just agree for now that this is a discussion for later. Much later."
Theoretically I don't have anything against a possible relationship in the future, we are intertwined in a way that would make it really weird if we dated other people. Like having a backseat driver all the way through the relationship, kind of weird. Yet the Tonkses are literally adopting me this summer, we'll be siblings.
So… Let's just pass that issue way down the line for now.
She rolls her eyes at my thoughts, stepping in to hug me tight, her emotions still all over the place as she lets out a shaky breath holding me. We'd both had too many times in the last while where we thought we were going to die. It makes for a rough emotional stretch as we come to terms with the fact we lived.
We stand like that for a while, just holding each other, drawing comfort from the contact. Eventually, she pulls away, her hair slowly shifting to a more subdued brown. "So, what's the plan now? Summer's coming, and it looks like we'll all be heading home early this year."
The news had been the first that I'd found out upon leaving the medical wing, exams were canceled, everyone was being sent home. Considering what happened - it is only logical.
Two teachers died on the premises, and the closest thing to a magical WMD almost took out the entire youth of magical Britain. Dumbledore was probably straight up told that parents wanted their kids home now.
Considering Dumbledore played his own part in making all this happen on his longshot plan, I didn't think he had the stones to argue the point either, if anyone deserves to feel guiltier than me it is him
I sigh, leaning against one of the stone pillars. "Yeah, no exams for anyone but the OWL and NEWT students. Feels strange, doesn't it? But maybe it's for the best. Everyone needs a break after everything that's happened."
After all the studying I had done to take extra exam, it felt beyond odd to now not finish the year with any exams, but it was worse for Tonks, who'd have to go home a month before exams, no more teacher assistance - no magic allowed at home - and then go to the Ministry to take her NEWTs.
Tonks nods, settling down on one of the old, worn couches they'd appropriated from a storage room for the Undercroft's use. "Definitely. Though I can't imagine what my parents are going to say when I show up early. Surprise, I'm home! Oh, and by the way, we almost fought a basilisk and ended up messing with You-Know-Who and almost got caught up in a time trap forever!'" Tonks flashes jazz hands, smiling awkwardly, "Surprise, I'm alive!"
I chuckle, sitting down beside her. "Yeah, that's going to be an interesting conversation. But at least we're okay. Mostly." I reiterate it as much to myself as to Tonks. Secretly glad I'm not getting adopted for another two-three months, because it means Tonks would give that explanation without me being there.
I don't even know these people, even the books haven't prepared me for the Tonkses. I definitely do not want to discuss this year right after it all went down. Nope. Huge no-no. Tonks can handle it.
I have full faith in her.
Good luck on that.
She looks at me seriously, scrunching her face up at my thoughts, her hair turning a soft blue as she ponders something, before her face firms up. "Lucas, I need you to promise me something."
"Anything." Well….
Within reason. Considering…
"No more big secrets. No more going off on your own to handle things. We're in this together, okay? You, me, and your friends. We need to trust each other."
I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it gently. "I promise to do my best, Tonks. No more dangerous secrets. We're in this together." I shrug somewhat guiltily, "There will always be some things I can't tell you, but if it's dangerous I'll share."
She smiles, a small, tired smile, but it's genuine. "Good enough for me I suppose. Although if you break that promise, I'll hex you til I die from exhaustion, then haunt you."
We both laugh, the tension easing just a bit. The sound echoes off the stone walls, filling the space with a sense of warmth that has been sorely missing, all the worry almost physically taking over our space over the last few weeks.
"So," I say after a while, "What are your plans for the summer, besides explaining all this to your parents and lots of last minute studying?"
Tonks leans back, her eyes thoughtful. "I guess I'll try to relax a little, maybe help out around the house. And practice, of course. I need to be ready for whatever comes next - I will be an Auror." She says with conviction.
I nod, feeling a pang of guilt. "I should do the same. There's still so much we don't know, so much we need to be prepared for." I mutter, even if I have no idea what's going to happen with the second year now.
With Voldemort kind of back, I doubt Malfoy Sr will be tossing his Horcrux into the mix. And without the Basilisk, that would have gone differently now anyway.
I feel a pang of distress, Merlin, I need to look up what this world's Gilderoy Lockhart is like…
"Hey," She says, nudging me with her shoulder, "We'll figure it out. We always do, don't we? We won didn't we? And we've got some time now, right? No need to rush into anything."
I smile, appreciating her optimism. "Yeah, you're right. We've got time." I murmur, just soaking in her warmth as we cuddle up, our heads pressed together.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. Things would be changing now. Tonks would be out of Hogwarts. Which in one way gave me a contact I could talk to that had access to the outside world - but it also had the drawback of not actually being able to see her for long stretches of time.
I also wasn't exactly thrilled with her career choice, considering.
I knew better than to try and limit her like that though, so I'd just have to suffer the worry.
The portraits of Ominis and Sebastian chime in at this point, taking advantage of our silence, their voices adding a touch of humor to the somber atmosphere. "Ah, young love," Sebastian says with a smirk. "So full of drama and angst."
"Indeed," Ominis agrees, his tone dry. "But at least they have each other to lean on - no matter how morally corrupt they are…"
Fuck you too, Ominis.
The fucking Gaunts do not get to lecture me on keeping it in the family.
Tonks rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "Ignore them, Lucas. They're just ~ jealous." She sing-songs, waggling her eyebrows at the portraits as her bust suddenly grows a couple sizes.
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. "Yeah, I guess so." I agree easily enough, laughing again as Tonks transforms her face into a facsimile of Sebastian, making stupid faces at the now very offended portrait.
We spend the next few hours talking, planning, and just enjoying each other's company. Tonks alternates between ranting about how I scared her and expressing her relief that we're both okay whenever she gets stuck in her mind long enough. I listen, apologizing where I need to and accept her words with a grateful heart.
She cares, she cares so much, it's hard to understand sometimes.
Flashes of memories of someone I'd used to care so much about flitter through my mind. I feel a twinge of uncomfortableness, as if I've replaced my old life fully, even in my memories.
There's a reason I haven't plunged through the veil between my memories, besides how busy I've been lately. I just… I don't see the point. It's only going to be heartache, a life I lost, people I lost. Why do that to myself?
In the end, I'm just not curious enough. I guess I truly never was a Ravenclaw.
As the evening wears on, we discuss our plans for the summer in more detail. We talk about the places we want to visit once I move in, the things we want to do, and the people we want to see. It feels good to think about the future, to imagine a time when we're not constantly looking over our shoulders.
Every now and then, the portraits interject with their own thoughts and ideas, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes surprisingly insightful. It's like having a pair of eccentric uncles offering advice from beyond the grave. Sebastian the eccentric kind of jokester uncle, with only slight hints of racism. Ominis the grumpy old man uncle, complaining about kids these days.
And still refusing me access to all the goodies out of pure old man spite.
Bastard.
As the night deepens, we find ourselves lying side by side on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The candles have burned low, making the space dimly lit and almost cozy.
"I still can't believe it's over," Tonks murmurs, her voice soft and filled with wonder and melancholy.
Speaking of not only the year, but Hogwarts itself, for her.
"Yeah," I reply, equally softly. "It feels like a dream." This year… It has been long…
The friends I've made… The studies, the exams, the constant threats that had never allowed me to slow down. Diving deeper and deeper into divination. Foolishly constructing a ritual for Tonks without fully realizing the exact consequences…
It's been a busy year.
She turns her head to look at me, her eyes reflecting the flickering light. "But it's not. We made it, Lucas. It's real, for sure. We're alive. And we're together."
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Yeah, we are."
For a moment, everything feels right. The future is uncertain, and there are still challenges ahead, but here, in this moment, we have each other. And that's enough. For now, it is just enough. It has to be.
It's uncomfortable, sweet, and incredibly scary, sounds like love, really.
Tonks nestles closer, resting her head on my shoulder. "We'll get through this, Lucas. Whatever comes next, we'll face it together."
I wrap my arm around her, holding her close. "Together," I agree.
The Undercroft is quiet now, the only sound our breathing and the distant hum of Hogwarts. It's a moment of peace in a world filled with chaos, and I savor it, knowing that such moments are rare, especially with what will come eventually.
I refuse to believe Voldemort is not an issue simply because he can't do violence personally anymore.
If Quirrell's little side project is any proof, Voldemort could perform rituals that would impact the entire muggle world through his subordinates, never 'harming' anyone himself.
As I close my eyes, I think about the future. There are so many unknowns, so many things to prepare for. I've messed up way too many times. But I've learned my lesson… Going forward, I won't fail, I won't falter.
We lie there in the darkness, surrounded by the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a sense of hope for the future. It's fragile, like a flickering flame, but it's there.
Quirrell is defeated and Voldemort is, if not technically defeated - at least delayed.
And as I drift off to sleep, I hold on to that hope, knowing that it's what will carry us through the days ahead, through the horrible things I've yet to see, whatever the future would throw at me next.
Together, we will face the future. And together, we will prevail.
That's my story, and I'll make magic itself listen to it!
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Next morning, Great Hall, Hogwarts.
The Great Hall feels like a different world this morning. The usual vibrant banners and cheerful atmosphere have been replaced by black drapes that hang heavily from the walls. The enchanted ceiling, normally reflecting the weather outside, now mirrors a weeping sky, droplets of water falling gently from dark clouds, creating the illusion of rain. The entire hall is steeped in a somber silence, the kind that feels almost tangible, pressing down on everyone present.
I sit at the Hufflepuff table, surrounded by my friends. Neville is on my left, his face pale and drawn. Susan and Hannah sit across from me, both looking equally grim. Tonks is on my right, her presence a constant source of silent support. She hasn't let me out of her sight since yesterday, and I'm grateful for it. None of us have much of an appetite. Plates of food sit mostly untouched, the comforting smells of breakfast doing little to lift our spirits.
I think even the house elves couldn't get into their usual glee, the food just looks less. Like it's only… There.
Neville breaks the silence first, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't believe she's gone. Professor McGonagall… She always seemed so strong."
Susan nods, her eyes red-rimmed, all of Hufflepuff had been pretty inconsolable, with McGonagall and Babbling dead, and Vector just barely surviving. "It feels like the heart of Hogwarts has stopped beating." She pushes food around on her plate unenthusiastically.
Professor McGonagall had seemed as much an institution as the Great Hall itself, or the sorting hat. Just someone who'd always be there. Even the Slytherins were affected.
I glance over, and see nothing but drawn faces there as well. This disaster affects us all.
Hannah sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "She was more than just a teacher. She was… She was like a rock. Always there, always steady."
The first years didn't know her, not like I did somewhat through other knowledge, but they knew her just via osmosis from the older students, and there wasn't a student in the school who didn't respect her.
The Weasley twins were gone from Hogwarts, but I have a feeling they'd be more heartbroken then most to have heard she is gone. She did have a special kind of relationship with pranksters despite her stern exterior.
I can't say I ever thought much of her from the books, but I respected her knowledge and dedication. Even Voldemort hadn't touched her when he'd taken over the magical world - even that despicable snake had respect for her skills and her dedication to teaching.
Tonks reaches over and squeezes my hand. "She died protecting everyone. That's the kind of person she was." She says softly.
I swallow hard, my throat tight. "Yeah. She wouldn't have had it any other way."
She wouldn't have had to, if not for me… But it's something I'll have to learn to live with.
They all lost McGonagall. I have big shoes to fill to ever make it right.
We lapse into silence again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is punctuated only by the occasional clink of cutlery or a hushed murmur from another table. The entire student body seems to be in heavy mourning, a collective grief that weighs heavily on the air.
After what feels like an eternity, Dumbledore stands at the front of the hall. He looks more tired than I've ever seen him, his usual vibrant robes replaced by simple black ones that make him look lesser, somehow. His eyes, normally twinkling with wisdom and mischief, are dull and lifeless. He clears his throat several times, struggling to find his voice.
No one begrudges him the time, there's not a single scoff or mutter about cooky old men. We all simply bow our heads and wait.
Even Slytherins understand losing family, there is no one mocking him today.
"Children… It's time," He finally manages to say, his voice cracking.
The Professors rise and begin to lead us out of the hall and onto the Hogwarts lawn. The sky outside is a mockery of the event, sunny and bright, so different from the enchanted ceilings sorrow. Hundreds of chairs have been arranged in neat rows, facing a simple wooden podium and a marble coffin before it. The first few hundred seats are reserved for Hogwarts students, but beyond them, I see wizards and witches from all over the world, here to pay their respects.
It's mainly British people, of course, it's limited seating, but bigwigs from abroad can be clearly seen around the ministerial seating section.
We take our seats quietly, the weight of the occasion pressing down on us. I sit between Tonks and Neville, with Susan and Hannah beside us, Su and Padma in the Ravenclaw section, Harry with his friends in the Gryffindor section - I really needed to find time to speak with that boy...
He's gone through his do overs now, he needed to bloody end the habit of taking Killing curses right now. I'd already lost the world McGonagall, I wasn't going to be responsible for killing off Harry Bloody Potter too.
The silence is profound around us, broken only by the rustle of robes and the quiet shuffling of feet. No one is causing a scene, there's not a witch or wizard on either side of the divide willing to tarnish this occasion so.
Professor Sprout is the first to speak. She steps up to the podium, her normally cheerful face etched with grief. She takes a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she grips the sides of the podium.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
There isn't a Hufflepuff amongst us that hasn't wrestled with the shame of thinking - thank Merlin, at least it wasn't Sprout.
"Minerva McGonagall was more than just a colleague," She begins, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. "She was a friend, a mentor, and an inspiration to us all. Her dedication to her students and to Hogwarts was unmatched. She was always there to lend a hand, offer guidance, or provide a stern word when needed. She was a pillar of strength in our community, and her loss is immeasurable."
She seems lost for words for a moment, taking a few seconds to compose herself. "But Minerva was also a fierce protector. She gave her life to ensure the safety of her students, and for that, we owe her a debt of gratitude that we can never fully repay. She will be remembered as a hero, and her legacy will live on in all of us."
Professor Sprout steps back, wiping at her eyes, and Professor Flitwick takes her place. His small stature seems even smaller today, his usual exuberance dimmed by sorrow, his face is drawn and pale, and he is swathed in bandages.
According to whatever gossip had trickled down in the past twenty-four hours, he'd broken almost every bone in his body, and the bandages had a bruise soothing salve due to his skin being entirely a large bruise.
Yes, the Hogwarts rumor mill really was that good.
"Minerva was a remarkable witch," He says, his voice filled with emotion, trembling slightly. "Her skill in Transfiguration was legendary, but it was her kindness and her unwavering sense of justice that truly defined her to me. She was always ready to stand up for what was right, no matter the cost, as true a Gryffindor as Godric himself. Her courage and her compassion were boundless, and she inspired us all to be better, to do better. I'm a better wizard, a better man for knowing her… I think many of you could say the same, your lives touched by Minerva in some manner."
He pauses, looking out at the gathered crowd. "Minerva's loss is a blow to us all, but we must carry on in her name. We must continue to strive for the values she held dear - bravery, loyalty, and the pursuit of knowledge. She would want us to keep fighting, to keep moving forward, even in the face of adversity."
Flitwick steps back choking back a sob, just shaking his head widlly, and there is a brief moment of silence before Minister Fudge takes the stage. He looks more composed than the others, but there is a tightness around his eyes that speaks of his own distress at this impossible situation.
I know as well that the man has also just lost his wife. One of the levers to kick-start this whole debacle. So it's possible his distress is entirely from that. I know just from gossip he isn't as incompetent as his canon iteration, but I have a hard time trusting the Ministry with anything due to those canon biases.
"Today, we gather to honor a great witch and a great leader," He begins, his voice formal and measured. "Minerva McGonagall has been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class posthumously, for her bravery and her service to our community. Her actions in the final moments of her life exemplified the very best of what it means to be a witch. She stood her ground, she protected her students, and she gave her life for the greater good."
He pauses, glancing at the crowd before continuing. "We also honor Professor Babbling and the other professors who fought valiantly alongside her. They have all been awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class, for their bravery and their dedication. Their sacrifice and their courage will not be forgotten."
There is a murmur of agreement from the crowd, but it is subdued, the weight of loss pressing down on all of us. Minister Fudge steps back, and for a moment, no one moves. Then Dumbledore steps up to the podium, his movements slow and deliberate.
I had half expected Snape to say a few words. But the gossip around Hogwarts was that no one had seen him since the body was brought back. He hadn't been at breakfast, and I hadn't spotted him in the sea of black here.
If given leeway, half the wizarding world could have probably spoken here, but it's now left to only one man, Albus Dumbledore.
He looks older than ever, his face lined with sorrow. His eyes, usually so full of life, are almost dead-looking, reflecting the weight of his grief. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"Minerva McGonagall was not just a colleague, not just a friend," He begins, his voice heavy with emotion. "She was a part of the very fabric of Hogwarts. Her presence, her wisdom, and her strength were woven into every stone, every corridor, every classroom. She was a beacon of hope, of resilience, of unwavering dedication."
He pauses as if lost for words for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Minerva was a woman of great virtue. She was brave, she was kind, and she was fiercely loyal. She cared deeply for her students, for her colleagues, and for this school. She dedicated her life to teaching, to guiding, to protecting. And in the end… She went out protecting her students, because that is who she was. A protector, a guardian, a hero."
He takes another deep breath, his hands gripping the sides of the podium as if to steady himself. "The British magical world has lost one of its pillars. Minerva had no more living relatives; Hogwarts was all she had left. She loved this school, this community, with all her heart. And it is fitting that her final resting place will be at Hogwarts, in a valley not far from here. I will personally ward her tomb, and any student who wishes to pay their respects, to add their own magic to her final resting place, only has to see their heads of house to ask."
Dumbledore's voice falters for a moment, and he clears his throat, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We will miss her dearly. Her absence will be felt every day, in every corner of this school. But we must carry on. We must honor her memory by continuing the work she started, by living up to the values she held dear. Bravery, loyalty, kindness, and dedication. These are the things that defined Minerva McGonagall, and these are the things we must strive to embody in our own lives."
He steps back, and for a moment, there is only silence. Then, slowly, the crowd begins to stand, paying their final respects to a woman who gave everything for the school she loved.
The funeral proceeds with a kind of quiet dignity, the eulogies and speeches blending together in a tapestry of memories and tributes. Wizards and witches from all over the world step forward to pay their respects, their voices low and mournful.
An old French witch burst into tears, shrieking at the coffin that she'll never know which chess move Minerva would do next on their correspondence due to her stupid self sacrifice, quickly led away by one of the other guests, sobbing hysterically.
As the ceremony comes to a close, the Professors begin to lead us back to the castle. I feel a deep sense of loss, even though I personally didn't have much of a relationship with the woman. Personally, I hadn't even liked her that much.
But she'd been someone, a woman who'd given her life to educating others. To stand in defense of others. I owed it to her to do better. To protect Hogwarts as best as able.
I owed it to her… To not let my pride rule my common sense.
Dumbledore and I needed to come to an accord.
Tonks walks beside me, her hand firmly in mine. She doesn't say anything, but her presence is enough.
As we reach the castle, I look back one last time, my eyes lingering on the distant valley I can barely see, the spot where Minerva McGonagall will be laid to rest. It feels like the end of an era, but also the beginning of a new one. A time to honor the past, but also to look forward to the future.
I will make sure it wasn't in vain. I promise silently.
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Later that day,
Getting a meeting with Harry Potter right now is beyond annoying.
With McGonagall gone, the Gryffindors have completely turtled up, and the seventh years protect the first years like nesting mother dragons.
To even be able to send him a message, I was interrogated by three separate seventh years, and then they left me to wait outside the portrait of the fat lady, with Olive Wood standing there, frowning down at me, wielding a beater bat.
Which somehow is more scary then if he'd held his wand. Fucking Quidditch people.
The only good thing about the year ending early is the fact it entirely ruined everything for the Quidditch fanatics.
One hour and some change after the seventh years left to give my message to Harry, he finally shows up, Hermione in tow.
I cock my head, "You sure you want her along?"
Hermione looks like she could chew steel, as she glares at me, "Try and stop me!" She hisses, her hair all floofed up.
Harry shrugs, "I don't think I could make her go away, do you?"
"Harry Potter! I'm your backup, in case something suspicious is happening, don't take it so casually!" She cries out, holding her wand as she stares down the hallway like Voldemort would come rushing up any minute now.
I share a look with Harry. Well… Better him than me.
"Come on, we'll just grab an empty classroom I guess." I say causally, walking away, not really wanting to show them how amused I am at their sudden paranoia.
Years of events in canon hadn't gotten them that careful, apparently they could learn here.
Oliver Wood shouted after them, "If Harry Potter isn't back in twenty minutes, all of Gryffindor tower will be coming after you Greenwood."
I turn and raise an eyebrow, sardonically replying, "Good to know I can kidnap Granger just fine." I send him a thumbs up, before we round a corner.
Hermione glares at me, huffing loudly, and I shrug, "Hey, he is the one who literally said bring back the important one, with two of you leaving." Although it is Wood, so it was probably more that he didn't notice anyone who wasn't a Quidditch player…
"Lucas, don't be so… You." Harry warned, squeezing Hermione's hand.
"Always with the impossible asks, Harry." I say, shaking my head. "Don't be you seems a cruel thing to say to a person."
Harry sighs, "Lucas…."
"I kid, I kid." I say with a small smirk, leading them into an empty room only a few minutes away.
We stare at each other in silence for a few moments, before Harry moves us along, "Your note didn't say what you wanted…?"
I study him critically, "Just wanting to have a quick chat, really. No suicidal feelings or anything?"
He stares at me in complete incomprehension, Hermione watching us both eyes narrowed, her lips thinned as she realizes she has no idea what we're talking about.
"W-what?" Harry finally manages to push out.
I shrug, "Just checking, you might have gotten lucky twice, but I really don't think you will a third time, so please don't toss yourself in front of anymore killing curses, okay?"
"WHAT!?" Hermione shrieks at the top of her lungs, making me glad I have perfected a wandless Silencio previously - the room silenced before she could have brought Wood and his beater bat down on me.
"How, what, why?" Hermione's hand roam his torso like she is ensuring he's still breathing and functioning, as Harry squirms looking uncomfortable. "THE KILLING CURSE, HARRY!" She screams, a tiny fist beating on his chest, "What were you thinking?"
Harry gives me a recriminating look, I just shrug again, "Hey, I wasn't the one who brought her. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't do something that stupid again."
"That stupid thing saved your life!" He snapped, grabbing Hermione by the shoulders to stop her from poking him again.
"Yes it did." I acknowledge, and I feel a twinge of something… Shit, do I owe him a life debt now. Bugger. Moving on, "And I thank you for that, but you should still value your life higher."
I turn and walk away, my work is done. I'd intended to talk it through more with him, but with Hermione here, I'm sure he'd be getting therapy 101 slammed into his skull.
He'd get the point. Or he wouldn't because he's Harry bloody Potter, but at least I'd warned him he wouldn't get away with it a third time.
Just in case Dumbledore did something stupid like wax poetically about how nice self sacrifice is.
Harry looks utterly betrayed as I flee the room, and I wince,
Not exactly making him like me any more with this, but ah, he'll get over it.
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I walk through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the quietude almost oppressive with the mood of the castle now. The air feels thick with sorrow and regrets, the weight of recent history pressing down on me. My steps echo softly as I approach the blank stretch of wall that conceals the Room of Requirement. I close my eyes, concentrating on my need.
I need a place to find what's hidden. A place to retrieve what's been lost.
When I open my eyes, a door has materialized before me, it's dark wood and intricate carvings beckoning. I push it open and step inside.
Almost a year late, thanks to Quirrell. I had planned to utilize this room to fix my immediate monetary concerns, knowing it had plenty of treasures hidden, and plenty of mundane things as well, which would save me on purchases in the future.
Better late than never, I suppose.
The Room of Hidden Things stretches out before me, a vast expanse of clutter and forgotten treasures. Piles of old books, broken furniture, and odd bits of magical artifacts are stacked haphazardly, creating a labyrinth of debris. The ceiling is high, almost lost in shadow, and the dim light from enchanted lanterns casts eerie shadows across the room.
I pull a crumpled piece of parchment from my pocket, a list of items laid out in order so I could keep this organized. "What a waste," I mutter to myself, thinking of all the time I've spent not doing this. "I'll go down the list, I guess."
With a sigh, I glance at the first item. Trunks. I take a deep breath and raise my wand. "Accio trunks!"
Considering everything else I'd likely find, trunks were first on the list because I'd need them to store the other crap. Either way, starting this late, it's good I'm staying at Hogwarts, because I have a feeling this will take a lot longer then I had originally projected back as an innocent naive firstie.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a whoosh, the air fills with the sound of rattling wood and metal. Trunks of all shapes and sizes come hurtling toward me, some old and battered, others nearly pristine. I duck as a particularly large one zooms past my head, crashing into a pile of broken chairs. More and more trunks fly towards me, a seemingly endless stream.
I wince as a smaller trunk smacks into my shin, toppling over and spilling its contents across the floor. "I'm going to be here awhile," I say with a wry sigh, rubbing my leg.
The room is chaos. Trunks are scattered everywhere, some overturned, others stacked precariously. I begin to sort through them, opening each one and peering inside. Many are filled with old school supplies, forgotten clothes, and various knick-knacks. Some contain more interesting items - ancient texts, peculiar magical devices, and even a few contraband items that make me raise an eyebrow.
I push aside a particularly stubborn trunk, revealing a narrow path through the debris. As I navigate through the clutter, I can't help but marvel at the sheer scale of the room. It's like an endless attic, filled with the detritus of countless generations of Hogwarts students. Every corner holds a new mystery, every pile a potential treasure trove.
Well, it's not all treasures, one trunk holds nothing but knickers, and with the different sizes and styles… Well it's not one girl's lost wardrobe I can tell that much. Safe to bet the Marauders? I wonder. Quickly pushing the trunk to the get rid of/not useful corner I'd built up.
The flickering light from the lanterns makes light precarious through the labyrinth, making the room feel even more otherworldly. I catch glimpses of strange objects - a set of probably enchanted armor, a collection of mismatched potion bottles that gleam disturbingly, a dusty old broomstick propped against a wall that vibrates when I go near it. The atmosphere is thick with the smell of old parchment, musty fabric, and the faint, almost metallic tang of magic.
I continue to sift through the trunks, my list in hand. Yet somehow I don't think I'll even get to my second item on the list today, it's all going to be trunks. As I stare across the room, snorting, I change that thought to all week is going to be trunks.
As I open another trunk, this one filled with old robes and textbooks, I find myself wondering about the students who left these things behind. What were their stories? What drove them to hide their possessions here, in this forgotten corner of the castle? Or is this really just a house elf dumping ground? Or Hogwarts itself?
I shake off the thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. There's a lot to do, and I can't afford to get distracted. I move on to the next trunk, then the next, steadily working my way through them, moving most to the discard pile.
Hours pass, and the room grows more chaotic as I sift through the piles of forgotten items. But amidst the mess, I find the odd gem, rare books for the most part, but also jewelry, and money just laying around in trunks.
My money situation isn't as problematic anymore as I won't be staying an orphan, but still, some extra spending power doesn't hurt, does it?
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Last day of school, Hogwarts.
The morning air is crisp as I step out into the courtyard outside the Great Hall. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the castle. The last day of the term always feels bittersweet, a mixture of excitement for the summer holidays and sadness at saying goodbye to friends. Today, the feeling is more pronounced, heavy with the weight of everything that has happened - the end is over a month early.
Hannah, Neville, Susan, Su, and Padma are already there, waiting for me. They're talking quietly, but they all look up as I approach. The smiles that greet me are genuine, though tinged with a hint of melancholy.
"Hey, Lucas," Hannah says, her voice warm and gentle. She steps forward and wraps me in a tight hug. I hug her back, savoring the comfort of the familiar embrace. "We're going to miss you." She mumbles quietly.
"I'll miss you too, Hannah," I say, pulling back slightly to look at her. "But we'll write, right? Every week."
"Every week," She promises, giving me a firm nod.
Susan steps forward next, her eyes bright despite the somber mood. "You better keep that promise, Lucas. If I don't get a letter, I'll come find you myself."
I laugh, but it's a weak sound. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Susan." We hug tightly, and I feel a lump form in my throat. It's hard to imagine not seeing these faces every day.
Neville is next, and his hug is strong and reassuring. "Take care of yourself, Lucas," He says quietly. "And don't do anything too reckless."
I smile, though it feels strained. "I'll try, Neville. But you know me…" it feels that half of anything Neville tells me nowadays is - don't do anything stupid… And he's correct, damn him.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know you. That's why I'm worried." He quips, his eyes somewhat strained.
Su and Padma come forward together, and we all share a group hug. Su's hair tickles my nose, and I laugh, a real laugh this time. "I'm going to miss you guys so much."
Padma pulls back slightly, a curious look in her eyes. "So, any news on the adoption? Is it going through yet?"
I shake my head, feeling a pang of frustration. "No, politics has delayed it until probably the beginning of July. Bureaucracy, you know."
There are narrowed eyes all around as they realize this means I have to go back to the orphanage, even if just for a while. The orphanage has never been a good place for me, and my friends know it.
Oh it's not abusive, and I created the situation myself by focusing solely on studies and disdaining socializing. But now it meant I'd be terribly alone after getting used to always having people around. Is what it would be… If I was planning on returning.
Neville's brow furrows in concern, immediately picking up on something, having gotten scarily good at reading me. "What are you planning, Lucas?"
I try to be evasive, giving him a casual shrug. "I have plans. Don't worry about me. And don't look for me on the train."
Way not to be suspicious, Lucas. I scold myself.
Susan huffs, crossing her arms. "I'm not surprised you're doing something crazy even now. For legal purposes, I don't want to know."
Hannah and Su both protest simultaneously. "We want to know!"
Padma just smirks knowingly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea what you're up to, Lucas."
Neville sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Please don't make us have to be met by Aurors at King's Cross. My gran would kill me."
I grin at him, trying to be reassuring. "I'm like seventy percent certain that won't happen."
Neville rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips. "That's not very reassuring, you know, at least make it eighty." He banters back.
We stand there for a few more moments, sharing quiet words and lingering hugs. There's a sense of finality in the air, a feeling that things will be different when we come back next term. But for now, we cling to the familiar, to the friendships that have seen us through so much.
As the time to leave draws closer, the bustle of students preparing to head to the train grows louder. The courtyard fills with voices and the sound of luggage being dragged over cobblestones. My friends start to gather their things, but I hold back, knowing I have somewhere else to be.
"I have to go," I say, feeling a pang of guilt for not explaining more. "But I'll see you all sometime this summer. Promise."
They nod, accepting my words with varying degrees of skepticism. One by one, they head towards the carriages that will take them to the train, leaving me standing alone in the courtyard.
I watch them go, my heart heavy. These people are my family in a way, or at least getting in that direction, and saying goodbye, even for a few weeks, feels like I'm doing them a disservice again, like I'm going to be someone else when they see me again. But there are things I need to do, things I need to discuss with Dumbledore.
And frankly, going back to a muggle orphanage is just plain stupid at this stage. In this at least, it seems Dumbledore had learned.
I pull a small piece of parchment from my pocket, the note with the password to Dumbledore's office. It's not candy, it's Minerva. And I shudder at how the man's punishing himself, everytime someone needs to come see him, they'll have to say her name. It's cruel to both them and himself, because in the summer only the other Professors will come see him.
Those that had known her best.
As I walk through the castle, the halls are eerily quiet, the usual chatter and laughter replaced by a solemn stillness. The portraits on the walls watch me pass with curious eyes, their usual gossip subdued. It feels as though the very walls are mourning with us.
I reach the gargoyle that guards the entrance to Dumbledore's office and whisper the password. The statue moves aside, revealing the spiral staircase that leads up to the headmaster's sanctum. I take a deep breath and begin to climb, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The door to Dumbledore's office is ajar, and I push it open slowly. The room is filled with the familiar clutter of books, odd magical devices, and the soft glow of enchanted lamps. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, sits on his perch, watching me with intelligent eyes.
I suppose I should be thankful he doesn't screech at me in accusation, feeling the guilt inside me.
Dumbledore is seated at his desk, his hands steepled in front of him. He looks up as I enter, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. "Ah, Lucas. Come in, come in. Have a seat."
I close the door behind me and cross the room, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs opposite his desk. "Thank you for seeing me, Professor."
He nods, his eyes twinkling with a hint of their old light. "Of course, my boy. What can I do for you?" He cocks his head slightly, "Beyond the obvious I assume."
Dumbledore had already tentatively agreed on me staying for the summer until the Tonkses could pick me up legally.
I had planned to honestly just hide out in the room of requirement until that time, regardless of his thoughts, just disappearing for a month or two. But recent events had proven that I should not completely disregard allies, however loose of an ally it was.
Dumbledore had obliviated me, and likely would again if he thought I knew. I can't trust him. But… He's an ally against all that hides in the dark, and I can't afford to not be on decent terms with him.
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I need to talk to you about… Everything. The adoption, the orphanage, divination and what happens next."
Dumbledore's expression softens, and he leans forward slightly. "I see. It has been a difficult year, hasn't it?" He says softly, stroking his beard.
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat, thinking of McGonagall and Babbling, of Aurora, of the obliviations, the detentions with Quirrell… "Yeah, it has. And I don't know what to do as another option. I don't want to go back to the orphanage, even for a short time. It's not..." I sigh, closing my eyes, "I shortsightedly focused on my studies in exclusion of everything else, making me persona non grata amongst the other children."
That's one of the reasons, but we both know the real reason, I'm not safe. Not there. Not from Voldemort's people if they make a grab for me. I open my eyes, meeting his, "They also don't deserve what will happen if I return."
They should get to live their lives without the wizarding world suddenly intruding on them, they have it hard enough.
Dumbledore's eyes are full of understanding and sympathy. "I understand, Lucas. We will do everything we can to expedite the adoption process of course so you won't have to stay here long. You have been through so much, and you deserve to be in a place where you feel safe and loved." He gestures around him, "Hogwarts will be available as we discussed, for the duration."
I nod, grateful for his support. "Thank you, Professor. That means a lot." I inwardly cringe at the fact I'm Lucas and my boy, now. Now that I've proven to be important.
I wonder how many orphans in Hogwarts aren't getting special treatment right now in similar or worse situations. Harry included. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Apparently being a divination weapon of war has people bending over backwards more than being the chosen one does.
He reaches across the desk and pats my hand gently. "You are a strong young man, Lucas. Stronger than you know. And you have a bright future ahead of you. By working together you'll see that it will all work out."
I nod, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. Together." I mutter, feeling slightly sickened by how hard he's buttering me up.
I mean, it's what I counted on, but it's weird to see a person that's practically ignored your existence - except for mind wiping you for being naughty - suddenly smiling and patting you and talking about bright futures.
The room is quiet for a moment, the only sound the soft rustling of Fawkes' feathers. I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of determination settle over me. Whatever comes next, I know I can face it.
This year was my crucible, I've survived it without bending or breaking. I can only go upwards from here.
The summer stretches out before me, filled with possibilities and uncertainties. But for the first time in a long while, I feel ready to face it. I feel ready to embrace whatever comes next. No distractions, just me, Hogwarts, and magic, for up to two months.
It would be absolutely divine.
"Now," Dumbledore says, his tone lighter, "How about a cup of tea before we discuss the finer details?" He queried.
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest as Fawkes trills at us. "That sounds perfect, Professor. Thank you." I say politely.
As he pours the tea, I study the portraits around the office, lost in my thoughts. Dumbledore was being accommodating due to my potential value. But it also meant I'd have more oversight over me now, it would be much harder to sneak around.
Although maybe it meant Professor Snape had to be less of an asshole to me? I somehow doubt even Dumbledore can control that.
Dumbledore pours the tea with a steady hand, the soft clinking of the porcelain cups the only sound in the room. I take the offered cup, feeling the warmth seep through my fingers, grounding me in the moment. The aroma of the tea mingles with the familiar scents of the office - old parchment, ink, and a hint of lemon drops.
"Tell me, Lucas," Dumbledore begins, his tone conversational yet probing, "How precisely do your divination abilities manifest? What is the extent of your foresight?"
The question is spoken softly, but his gaze is sharp as he smiles at me over the tea. The previous mourning is almost gone from his face as he focuses on the future, trying to gauge me and my abilities.
I take a sip of the tea, buying myself a moment to think of my response. I know he's fishing for more information, trying to see just how useful I can be. "It's... Complicated," I start, keeping my voice measured. "I can get flashes, sometimes more coherent visions through using different aids like dice or scrying. It's not always clear."
Even Quirrell hadn't known my full capabilities, not really. And I wasn't going to share that with Dumbledore either. Same side or not, I don't trust him. So I'll share enough I'll be useful while regaining some autonomy, and keep my best cards up my sleeve.
Dumbledore's eyes narrow slightly, the twinkle dimming as he considers my words, seeing my recicetence. "I see… Yet you've managed to figure out almost everything that was going to happen this year. That is quite a feat, even if your sight hasn't been perfectly clear."
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "Sometimes its more about understanding the possibilities rather than seeing a fixed future. I can anticipate a general gist of events, but it's not foolproof." I keep my tone vague, not wanting to reveal too much. The rituals I've performed to enhance my abilities are a secret I plan to keep.
Ritual magic would be something he could hold over my head. Even if he already knew through Professor Snape that I dabbled, he didn't know to what extent, and I plan to keep it that way. I'm certainly never telling him I've used blood in ritual, that is literally Azkaban worthy.
He'd own me.
He nods slowly, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "Fascinating, such old magic returning to someone so young. Your abilities could be invaluable in these troubling times. Have you had any recent premonitions about... Significant events?"
I know he means Voldemort, and I hesitate to even go there. Too much of it is future knowledge, not divination. And I don't trust him enough to mention Horcruxes yet. If they're even going to matter with Voldemort's enforced change.
Dumbledore's gaze is piercing, as if he's trying to see into my very soul - thankfully I sense no Legilimency, that would have been a deal breaker at this point, I can only take so much. "Lucas, I understand your reluctance to share everything, but it's crucial that we work together openly. The safety of many depends on it."
I force a smile, trying to appear cooperative while keeping my guard up still. I need him more than he needs me technically, I can't be too argumentative. "I'll do my best, Professor. But you have to understand, it's not always clear to me either."
He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Very well. I appreciate your honesty, as much as you can give it." He immediately pivots, seeing divination as a lost battle for now, "Now, about Voldemort - did you have any insights into him through your divination during the year?"
I swallow, the mention of Voldemort sending a chill down my spine. "I've had... Inklings. I can't be sure because Quirrell threw a lot of it off…" I hem and haw slightly on what to reveal, "I think he's going to be more focused on the muggle world this time around." I say, at the last moment deciding it's the best I can allow out.
Dumbledore nods gravely. "Yes, we suspect the same, Quirinus was quite open with his words while luring us to believe he was a puppet of his master instead of a servant. Our plan is in place to dissuade any such action, the Ministries of the world have been made aware to be on the lookout."
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What plan?"
His eyes meet mine, a flicker of something in their depths. "Some things are beyond even young men like yourself, Lucas, leave this to the adults."
I frown, skepticism creeping in. "Are you sure it will work?" His plans for this year had basically been to ignore all atrocities and hope it works out.
I don't have a lot of faith in him, another reason why I put some of my divination skills up on offer. With some future knowledge trickling down now and then, maybe he'll be less of a dumbass.
Dumbledore's expression is unwavering. "It will work, Lucas. We must have faith in our preparations and in each other." He smiles, albeit a tad condescending, "We must trust in our allies, that is how we win, through our friendships."
I nod, though doubt gnaws at me. "I hope you're right, Professor."
As if sensing the tension, Fawkes lets out a soft trill, the sound soothing in the quiet room. I take another sip of tea, feeling the warmth spread through me, though it does little to ease my unease. Trusting Dumbledore to safeguard the muggle world, when his idea is to let the Ministries who barely care, do most of the legwork, doesn't sit well with me, even as I can honestly say I don't have any better ideas.
Suddenly, the flames in the fireplace turn a vivid green, and a figure steps out, dusting off his bright magenta robes. The man is tall, with a mane of silver hair and a goatee, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He has a smile on his round face, wrinkles around the eyes and lips. He looks around the room, his gaze finally settling on me.
"So this is the boy then, Albus?" The man's voice is rich and accented, carrying a hint of amusement. "He looks like a right little tosser, doesn't he?"
Dumbledore's expression shifts from one of mild surprise to exasperation. "Nicholas, please. He's a student, and he deserves respect." He pinches the bridge of his nose, "If you're going to be teaching here, you can't call the students names, Nicholas, we don't do that anymore."
I give him an unamused look, practically shouting Snape at him with one look.
Nicholas bloody Flamel waves a dismissive hand. "It's the summer holidays, Albus. I can call the brats whatever I want." He turns his attention back to me, studying me intently. "From what I've heard, you work divination like it hasn't been in centuries, boy. You'll be an interesting case study."
He eyes me like he wants to put me under a microscope and I'm not entirely comfortable with it. I blink, taken aback by his bluntness. "Case study?" I echo, unsure how to take his words.
Flamel scoffs, a grin playing on his lips. "Oh, don't be so serious. I'm here to teach as well, and from what I hear, you're quite the prodigy. Should be interesting to see what you're made of." He's rubbing his hands together in a stereotypical evil mastermind way, only missing the cackle.
Dumbledore quietly groans, but no one is paying him much attention right now.
I have a feeling he isn't meaning his words in the same way most people would when wanting to see what someone's made of. I feel a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Because still, it's Nichola bloody Flamel, "Teach? What are you going to be teaching?"
He gives a mock bow, his grin widening. "Transfiguration, of course. One of my many, many talents." He sniffs, "Just ask Albie, here."
I glance at Dumbledore, who seems both amused and resigned, a lot of resigned actually. "Nicholas is here to assist with some... advanced studies during the summer session," he explains. "We thought it might be beneficial for you to have some additional guidance."
Flamel claps his hands together. "Indeed. No one alive knows as much about ancient Divination as I do, even if I'm pants at it."
I nod slowly, still processing this unexpected development. "I suppose it could be... Useful."
I also could understand why he'd be bad at it. As the creator of the Philosopher's stone, he was no doubt a great scientist. And science doesn't pair that well with the honest belief you need in Divination.
Flamel chuckles, a warm, hearty sound. "Oh, it will be more than useful, my boy. It will be enlightening." He strides over to one of the bookshelves, pulling out a heavy tome and flipping through its pages. "We'll start with the basics, of course, but I have a feeling you'll catch on quickly." He scoffs, slamming the book shut, "Albie, this is modern, have you lost your mind?"
Dumbledore watches us with a thoughtful expression, only wincing slightly at how his mentor is treating his books. "Nicholas has a unique approach to teaching. I believe you'll find it quite... illuminating."
I sip my tea, the warm liquid doing little to calm the flurry of thoughts racing through my mind. Flamel's presence is both intimidating and intriguing. If he's as skilled as they say, this summer might be more challenging than I anticipated.
Not like I, or anyone else, would ever say no, to having Nicholas Flamel tutor you.
Dumbledore really is pulling out all the stops to tie me to his side…
Flamel looks up from another book, his eyes sparkling with interest. "So, Lucas, was it? Tell me more about these divination abilities of yours."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, not wanting to divulge too much still. "I can see glimpses of the future through aids like dice and other Divination tools. Sometimes they're clear, sometimes not. It's... Unpredictable."
He nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Unpredictable, yes. That's the nature of divination. But there's power in that uncertainty. Embrace it, and you'll find it can be a great strength."
"It's mostly intuitive, I don't really know what I'm doing until I'm doing it." I admit.
Flamel closes the book with a decisive snap. "That's more than most can manage. We'll work on refining your abilities, focusing that intuition into something more precise."
I nod, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. "I appreciate the help, truly. But there are some things I can't... won't discuss." I warn him, because like Dumbledore, he's someone I can't fully trust, certainly not with my real secrets.
Dumbledore's expression softens. "We understand, Lucas. We all have our secrets. But remember, we are here to help you. To guide you."
I meet his gaze, feeling a surge of determination to stay on this path. "I know, Professor. And I'll do my best to be... Open. But there are limits."
Flamel claps his hands again, breaking the tension. "Well, that's settled then. We'll start first thing tomorrow. Be prepared for some hard work, boy. I don't go easy on my students."
I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Dumbledore stands, signaling the end of our meeting. "Thank you, Nicholas. I'm sure Lucas will benefit greatly from your tutelage."
Flamel nods, his grin widening. "Oh, he will. I'll make sure of it." He scratches his nose, his eyes piercing as he studies me, "I haven't had this much fun anyway since I taught, Albie, and he was a brat like you wouldn't believe."
Dumbledore looks pained now, probably realizing what he's set himself up for all year, "Nicholas, please." He says plaintively.
He snorts, "Like you haven't hassled your students, Albie, leave me my fun."
"I believe we're done." Dumbledore says, sending a firm look my way.
I stand, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. "Thank you, Professors, I look forward to learning from you."
Dumbledore smiles, the twinkle back in his eyes. "You're welcome, Lucas. Remember, you're not alone. We're all in this together."
Sure, I think cynically, only some of us count as more together then the rest…
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