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I definitely enjoyed my Saturday, learning about the societies and clubs available to students of Hogwarts. Albeit most regular students would never - if they didn't excel strongly in some areas, actually get invited to the societies. I of course believe I'll eventually get an invitation, the question will be which society to join in the end.

The dragon one is a definite no, Quidditch is not for me, and although I'm sure to enjoy dueling, it's for the power to defend myself, not any particular wish to be constantly in the fray of things.

So it was in-between the Sphinx and Hippogriff society for me.

I probably wouldn't see the golden trio there either way, Harry probably wouldn't join without his friends, and if he does manage to get his friends invited as well, it's likely the dragon society that will take them in with him, due to Quidditch being the only possible avenue Ron Weasley could make it in on, even as a future consideration, due to him being a Weasley. Hermione would most likely be miserable in that society however, so I genuinely hope Harry doesn't drag her into it with him.

Of course all fun things must end. And for me, the upcoming detention with Professor Quirrell definitely heralded the end of said fun. I can't imagine I'll enjoy it.

I'm surprised - I don't know why. But I am, to see Hernione Granger and Harry Potter waiting outside the Defense against the Dark Arts office. They did blow up a classroom so I shouldn't have been surprised. I just hadn't expected we'd be sharing the detention. The more the merrier I suppose, I hadn't looked forward to being alone in a small space with Professor Quirrelmort.

Seeing Hermione reminds me however, as I fish out her scroll out of my mokeskin pouch, "Granger, I've answered your questionnaire." I hold it out to her as I walk up, giving her a teasing smile, "If you wanted to be friends, you could have just said so, no need to ask me about every detail of my life." I tease lightly.

Hermione blushes, side eying Harry who looks on with confused bemusement. She quickly grabs the rolled up parchment, looking like she's dying to read it right now. "My friends call me Hermione." She says shyly, face still red, not able to quite meet my eyes.

"My friends call me really annoying, but I sometimes also go by Lucas." I reply, winking at her. Amused at how badly equipped she seems to be to respond to me. This is the first week Hermione after all, not the after the troll - gumption Hermione. I turn to Harry. "I can call you Potter if you like, but it's probably easier to go by Lucas and Harry, if you don't mind, that is?"

Harry nods slowly, looking from Hermione to me, "Sounds good." He says simply.

"So, excited for detention?" I ask, clapping my hands together, feeling unusually nervous.

"I can't believe I have detention, my parents would be so upset with me." Hermione's face instantly crumples at the dreaded D word. Harry sends me a panicked - do something look.

"You know, detentions don't actually go on students' permanent record." I say, soothingly. I had looked it up; that information was not actually kept with a student's file, it was kept completely separately in Filch's office.

Weird. But I guess Filch has to feel useful in some way.

"Still…" Hermione says, looking conflicted. "I never saw myself as the kind of girl to get…Detention!" The weight she puts on that word - feels more like someone talking about going to jail for obscene acts. I wonder if she'll utter her famous - or worse, expelled - line in this world.

"From what I heard you both did nothing wrong." I say firmly. "You shouldn't even have gotten detention."

"I blew up the classroom… And Hermione." Harry says self consciously, ignoring the fact he also blew himself up.

"Oh, Harry, you know I don't blame you for that!" Hermione instantly pivots, giving Harry a soft look, placing a hand on his arm, "You were defending me."

I give Harry a thumbs up, winking at him, but he just stares at me confused. Ah, to be socially awkward and completely ignorant of any social cues again.

Honestly he and Hermione had always had a better relationship, hopefully one change to canon with this earlier trio would be that these two get together. Although I doubt it, as Harry literally has to be clubbed over the head to realize anything related to people. Throw a dementor or a snake at him, sure. But don't ask him to talk to people.

Any further discussion is interrupted by the door opening, Professor Quirrell looking at us with a raised eyebrow, "Making friends are we, well I suppose you're all of a similar… Kind." He muses acerbically, stepping aside, "In you go, I'm sure you're all thrilled to find out what I have in store for you…"

We all exchange reluctant looks, before Harry - of course. Steps inside first, squaring his shoulders and staring Professor Quirrell in the eyes. Hermione and I follow behind him, neither one of us looks Professor Quirrell in the eyes. I don't know Hermione's reasons, but I'm pretty sure Voldemort is in residence, so I'm not making eye contact.

Quirrell's office is practically bare, no paintings on the walls or drapes over the windows. A single solitary desk, with a chair and an attached bookshelf is pushed up tightly against one wall. There's not even a chair for a guest/student for Merlin's sake!

What there is, is a large table in the middle of the room, with a large map of the world. A magical map, mind you, important places standing out more prominently, like wizarding villages and alleys as well as the schools for magic. Everything looks so real, the mountains rising up over the rest of the table, the water of the oceans, lakes and rivers seemingly deep - despite being on a table. There's even cloud coverage hovering over the map and weather playing out - perhaps even in real time? That's pretty cool if that's true.

"What is this, Professor?" Hermione asks, hesitantly. Looking fascinated, but definitely not comfortable in Quirrell's presence.

Professor Quirrell steps closer to the map, drawing his wand, which makes me flinch, earning me questioning looks from Harry and Hermione. Quirrell waves his wand over the table, smoke appearing from the cities, the oceans getting slightly discolored, the air itself over the map getting polluted. "I think…" He drawls slowly, "That you three are uniquely equipped to help with this muggle conundrum." He finishes, with a disgusted curl of his thin lips.

"I thought you weren't supposed to teach about muggles anymore." Harry says, somewhat confrontationally. A stubborn set to his jaw.

Don't piss off Quirrelmort, Harry! I try to warn him with a look, but he just looks at me weirdly. Not understanding the look at all.

Quirrell smiles thinly, shaking his head mockingly, "Mister Potter, such sad, simple Gryffindor thinking. Can you spot the problem, Mister Greenwood?"

I sigh, but nod,"This isn't class, it's detention." I point out. Professor's have a lot of leeway on detentions, as long as it isn't abusive.

I doubt the golden trio has read it, as even Hermione probably hasn't heard about it yet, but there is an actual Hogwarts rulebook, for both students and professors, available in the library. The rules regarding detention are plentiful, and usually amount to the same thing. The professor can do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't unduly harm the student, harm including - physical abuse, sexual abuse and a plethora of magical things. Not mentioned at all is verbal abuse. Something I might mention to McGonagall to update when I see her in Transfiguration next…

"What you'll be studying, and helping me figure out, is how to stop the pollution the beas-... Muggles - are destroying our planet with, and how to heal it." Professor Quirrell hisses out, a dark look in his eyes as he sneers down at the map. Wand practically stabbing down on one particularly pollution filled city. "My way is somewhat… Final." He continues coldly. "So children… Find me a better way with your muggle experience."

"We're eleven." I say, absolutely thrown. Like what the fuck. Quirrelmort is seriously standing there talking about saving the planet and fixing climate change and pollution. What twilight zone am I in? No really. I really need to know!

"And yet you know more about their kind… The muggles, all three of you, then any dozen purebloods or half-bloods I could ask." Quirrell states succinctly. The spot on the map where Quirrell's wand is resting is starting to burn slightly. I gulp, it must be my imagination that hears the cacophony of screams, no way the city on the map is capable of suffering. Right?

Hermione is staring at the map hungrily, like she can't wait to dig in on the task. But even she hesitates in the end, raising a hand, blushing as the Professor gives her a disparaging look. "Yes, what do you want, Miss Granger?"

"I'd love to help, Professor, it sounds ever so important and interesting." She rambles slightly in apparent nervousness. "But…But," She bites her lip, "How on earth are we going to accomplish anything in one detention!?" She bursts out. Looking anguished to admit to not being able to live up to a professor's task.

Both me and Harry groan at the same time, no doubt having the same horrible gut feeling simultaneously. We watch Professor Quirrell chuckle darkly, eyes intent on all three of us. A thin pleased smile on his face. "That's correct, Miss Granger. I'm afraid then, that due to the horrible disrespect I am sure you'll show me throughout the year, that you all have detention every Saturday… Until you solve this problem." His smirk widens at our obvious discomfort. "Just solve it quicker if that's an issue." He says flippantly, raising his wand, I wince. There's now just a burn mark where Beijing used to be…

I have no doubt what Quirrell's final solution is… So why does he want to try a more humane solution?

"You can't pre-emptively give us detentions for something we haven't done!" Hermione gasps out horrified, her face pale - no doubt at the prospect of having a detention every week. If she is anything like book Hermione, she is probably close to a freak out now, I think, watching her grow paler and paler as it sets in. If I hadn't already told her it doesn't go on her permanent record, she'd probably have fainted already.

"I'll tell Professor McGonagall." Harry says, a stubborn look on his face. He pats Hermione on the shoulder awkwardly, "She won't let this happen, Hermione." He says, not sounding very confident, but still standing his ground.

You can always trust Harry to fight authority. Unless its name is Dumbledore.

Professor Quirrell's pale face turns my way, a sardonic smile on it, "And you believe this as well, Mister Greenwood?" He asks, silkily. Again with putting me on the spot.

I do not appreciate it.

I am so confused right now. But not about this at least. I shake my head wearily. "No, it's pointless." I admit bitterly. Drawing stares from Harry and Hermione, I shrug, "Tell her if you want, but what are you going to say, really? Please save us from Professor Quirrell, he's making us find a way to save the world from pollution?"

Both their faces fall when they come to the realization that Quirrell hasn't actually done anything during this detention, like he had for his classes. Not anything they could complain about, really.

If he started abusing us, verbally or otherwise, we could do something. But he was being - although not nice, per say. Cordial enough, that we had nothing to report him for. And a Professor had the right to see a student in detention. As long as he played it smart and only gave us an hour or two a week, yeah he'd get away with it.

I look at Harry and Hermione apologetically, "Sorry, I can't see a way to dispute a detention from a Professor, not unless he does something bad first." Especially as he can easily make up a reason for one, it's not like Harry ever stays out of trouble for long, and so far, neither have I…"

"Oh don't worry, children. I'd never do something bad…" Professor Quirrell practically purrs out, a superior look on his face. He knows he has us. Now I just need to figure out why he wants us? I mean Harry, I suppose if he's Quirrelmort - it would make sense. But why Hernione and I? He couldn't honestly mean this nonsense about saving the planet from pollution could he?

The rest of the detention is fairly quick and straightforward, Professor Quirrell giving us several books, not only on magic specifically meant to be worked on nature, but muggle books as well, detailing the effects of pollution and how it works. Although a lot less detailed than my old life, where pollution was being taken much more seriously then it was in 1991.

It's honestly completely surreal. Save the world? Quirrelmort is having us work on this? Us? Eleven year olds? He knows more magic than we'd ever be able to figure out. There's got to be some sort of trick to this, some reason. It can't be that he needs our help. It just doesn't make sense.

As we leave the detention, I'm held back for a moment by the Professor. I'm somewhat annoyed at the so-called vaunted Gryffindor courage - Harry and Hermione rushing off the minute they can, leaving me behind.

"Did you need me for something else, Professor?" I ask, nervous sweat on my brow, as I realize I'm alone in the office with him now.

Professor Quirrell looks at me with a dark calculating look, rubbing his chin. Just several minutes of this uncomfortable evaluation as I squirm. Before he finally speaks, "You… Are a different kind of beast." He says slowly, a grimace pulling at his lips, "Those two are still, innocent. Yet you… You are not, are you? Mister Greenwood?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor?" I ask, really starting to feel uncomfortable.

"If I'd say that the best way forward for the magical world is a full decapitation of the muggle world's powerbase - what would you do to achieve this?" Quirrell enquiries, suddenly stalking forward, grabbing me by the chin with long pale fingers, eyes fanatically burning as he meets my gaze.

….

I feel sharp pain in my head, a vicious satisfied glee, am… I… Gleeful? No…Someone..?

I shake my head, feeling wooly. What? Why the hell am I thinking of muggles in the first place? Where is all this coming from?

Wait… What am I thinking of?

I wake as if from a daze, standing outside the DADA office.

Crap, Hermione and Harry left without me didn't they? I wanted to chat some more, try and set up some sort of rapport. And here I was napping, how careless of me, right outside Quirrell's office too.

Oh well, I'd get more chances. I rub my forehead, damn headache, I really need to find one of those Occlumency books or something. There's just something going on with my mind lately.

I wander off back towards the Hufflepuff common room. For once I might go to bed early.

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The next couple weeks go by fairly incident free. For me. Harry Potter manages to impress enough on a broom that Madame Hooch sends him off to see Oliver Wood, who promptly makes him the first ever first year to join the Quidditch cup team. Gryffindor having lost most of their old Quidditch cup team to graduation when Charlie Weasley graduated, leading to Oliver Wood captaining it now, in his first year on the older team, having successfully led the Memorial cup team for the past two years.

Draco Malfoy had been his usual asshat self, even with no rememberall to filch. His and Harry's little flying duel earning the little snake a position as well… On the Memorial cup team for Slytherin, his flying it turns out, is not nearly enough to beat the seventh year seeker the Slytherin Quidditch cup team has on the roster.

It was amusing to sit in the great hall at meals and see Malfoy fume as the Gryffindors celebrated loudly, and often, for that first week after Quidditch trials. Constant mentions of how in Gryffindor firsties can compete with the seventh years, not like Slytherin - where the Malfoy's of the world were only good enough for those his own age.

Not perhaps the most skilled burn, but they are Gryffindors, so some excuses must be made for their wit.

I still excelled in classes of course, my appetite for the wonders of magic has me way ahead of first year classes in both theory and practice. Although I attempted to not showcase this too obviously.

Due to my own project for the winter hols, I haven't yet studied much other extracurricular magic yet. Dividing my time between the common room, the library and the Undercroft. Reading the entire coursework for several classes takes up most of my free time. It will be worth it in the end, giving me a bounty of free time if I'm successful.

My attempts to keep an eye on Filch have yielded nothing of consequence. Mrs. Norris still follows him around everywhere, and he doesn't seem to be in any worsening health. I'd like to think that if Filch was somehow involved in this plot, his cat would notice something is wrong with him. Then again, if I was impersonating Filch, I'd just Imperio the cat.

Just a week away from Halloween, I finally succeeded in my efforts to bring the golden trio into our little study group. Mostly by getting through to Hermione, who eventually, after much cajoling - convinces Harry, which inevitably leads to Ron agreeing as well.

And of course, on the day I finally can start weaving them into my friends group, to expand their circle of allies, and insert myself near the chosen one, to protect and help him get stronger. I'm waylaid on the way to the library. I'm late, because of that damn poltergeist. And one of these damn headaches again. It had happened in the most inopportune moment, leaving me standing in a hallway with my eyes closed, rubbing my forehead.

Prime target for Peeves.

I'm glad for magic and drying charms, I doubt Madam Pince would allow me in the Library as soaking wet as I was after being pelted by a dozen water balloons. My fault apparently, for stopping in a hallway that had a bathroom close by.

I need to add banish Peeves to my list of goals. Right next to banish Binns.

I arrive at the library only ten minutes late, finding one of the larger tables occupied by my friends, and the golden trio. And with plenty of awkward silence and glances in between them.

Oh, for the love of… Sometimes I tend to forget they're all eleven. And some of them are awkward as all hell, socially.

"I see I've arrived at a real party here." I say dryly, sitting down in-between the space left between Hermione and Neville, depositing my book bag at my feet.

"Lucas!" Hermione says, letting out a sigh of relief. Harry and Ron both seem to relax slightly at my presence as well. Both have talked to me over the last few weeks, but not my friends. It's been only almost two months, and they're still ridiculously insular.

"Come on now, you're strong brave Gryffindors, I promise us Puffs aren't so scary." I tease them gently. Ron looks offended, but both Harry and Hermione laugh.

"What about us ravens?" Su says, looking up from her potions book, a small smile playing on her lips.

I wink at her, "The scariest of them all." I say solemnly. Turning to the Gryffindors again, "They do extra homework. They're all Hermione's over there." I mock, giving her a light nudge, to take the edge of the jibe.

Hermione rolls her eyes, as Harry politely hides his chuckles. Ron shakes his head, still snickering, "Bloody hell, why would anyone do extra schoolwork!?"

"Some of us actually want to achieve something in life, Ron." Hermione sniffs, not bothering to look at him, it has the sounds of an old argument.

"Some of us will get hexed if we get an acceptable or lower." Neville murmurs, looking frazzled as he looks through his Potions textbook. Padma calmly shares her notes with him, rolling her eyes at his dramatic statement.

"Your gran won't hex you, Neville." Susan chides him. Before turning to the golden trio. "Since Lucas is finally here, we can actually start properly. Usually we all work on one subject at a time, is there anything you all would like to work at?"

"Finally, it's only ten minutes…" I mutter.

Harry and Ron share a glance as Hermione seems torn between every subject, all of her books laid out in front of her. "Potions… Is where we struggle right now." Harry speaks up reluctantly. "Snape is…" He shares another glance with Ron, who mouths out, A git! "Unhelpful." Harry finishes with a quirk to his lips.

"Professor Snape, Harry. And don't think I didn't see that, Ron." Hermione says imperiously, "Potions is a difficult subject, it wouldn't hurt to study it some more." She admits, biting her lip, eyes flittering between the outlay of books she's brought with her.

"You can definitely keep calling him Snape or git, mates." I ignore everything Hermione said, earning me a reproving look, "From what you've said, he's not exactly going easy on you in lessons."

In our own Potions lessons, as we've now started brewing, Snape isn't too bad. Mostly coldly examining our work without much said for feedback - unless we're screwing up.

Then there's feedback alright…

Even Neville is doing okay, with Padma as his partner, keeping his nervousness from dumping whatever is in his reach into the cauldron.

The first brewing lesson Padma just barely saved him from dropping his wand in. Why did he even have it out, I mean at this point I don't even ask.

All in all, Snape is an adequate teacher. And one that very obviously knows the material like the back of his hand. If he wasn't so damn scary that he made people screw up just from being near him, he'd be a pretty good teacher.

Never a popular one, mind you.

From what Harry and Ron have said, and Hermione reluctantly corroborated. Snape is much less chill in their classes. Constantly hovering near Harry and Ron. Making disparaging comments.

Every perfect potion Hermione has made so far has gotten a chilled adequate assessment, to her neverending frustration. While in our class Snape has had no problem telling us that our potion is brewed perfectly, or at an EE level or whatsoever it might be. No Slytherins in the room to show off to or play up against - makes Snape almost bearable for us. The Gryffindors, not so much.

Still better than canon Snape though. He's never made any move to sabotage, or allow any kind of sabotage or hijinks in his class whatsoever. Or threatened to feed potions to any students or pets. Yet.

"He's not exactly pleasant, is he?" Hannah says, scrunching her nose up, "Luckily for Potions we have Padma, Susan and Lucas who are all great!"

"I'm helping Neville, Lucas was late, he can help the Gryffindors." Padma says matter of factly. Face never leaving the textbook propped open between her and Neville, one of her fingers tapping some point, pointing it out to Neville. Padma, amongst my friends, is the one that least enjoyed a Gryffindor presence, she seems to believe they'll all be Parvati's.

She'll no doubt make great friends with Hermione once she realizes the girl can't stand Parvati either, not that she ever says so out loud.

It's fairly obvious to anyone with common sense and eyes though. Which might be why no Gryffindor has noticed her dislike yet…

Susan smiles at me sheepishly, "I'm already helping Hanna and Su… So…"

I roll my eyes, eventually they'll have to stop being so scared of the fact Harry Potter is sitting at the same table as them. I turn to the golden trio. "Alright, since it's just going to be us this time anyway, let's find a table for ourselves."

It kind of defeats the purpose of me wanting to bring the golden trio into my circle so to speak. Gain them some more allies then they ever had in canon. But it does work well for me gaining more influence with them.

I get up, grabbing my book bag, quickly followed by both Harry and Ron. Then we stand there waiting, as my friends try to hide their amused smiles, as Hermione tries to shove all those books back in her book bag again. She definitely needs an expanded bag. Why is she even carrying Hogwarts a history around? I don't even carry that book around - and I'm the history nerd.

"Are you sure you have everything?" I say sarcastically, as she joins us, the other parts of the golden trio snickering at her.

"I didn't expect us to move tables immediately." She protests, still blushing slightly.

I shrug, "You could always sit back down, I doubt it's you that needs help with potions." I offer. Already fairly certain she'll refuse. Already the golden trio are hard to separate, even with Ron still being somewhat himself, at times.

"And unload all these books again when I just collected them all up? No thank you." She says primly. Stalking off ahead of us.

I shrug again, following her, "Any reason you guys couldn't just have Hermione help you out?" I ask curiously. Hermione wasn't quite at my level, but she was definitely competent in the class.

Ron shrugs, muttering, "You've seen her haven't you? I bloody well can't understand half the things she says."

Harry nods guiltily, "She tries, but she gets frustrated when we don't understand what she's talking about." He admits quietly.

I hum in thought, it sounds fairly on point. Ron has never struck me as that clever. And Harry, although smart, was not particularly book smart. So Hermione regurgitating the text book at them was probably not overly helpful.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." I say, offering no promises. Hermione is a bright girl, if she can't knock these two heads together enough that something sticks, there is no guarantee I can.

I'm certainly not letting them copy off my work, they'll have to learn how to do it properly.

We join Hermione in a corner of the library at a small nook, the table barely has enough room for all four of us. I smile at the surroundings, reaching into my pouch and taking out one of my dice, rolling it in my hand. We're in a divination section of the library. It makes me feel right at home.

"Can't believe you believe in that stuff." Ron says scornfully, eyeing my dice. No doubt trying to start an argument and delay the inevitable potions study.

I roll my eyes, the golden trio has of course already been spectators to my passionate rants about divination. Harry seems ambivalent, Hermione curious, and Ron adamant that it is nothing but bull. He's been ribbing me about divination since he found out how heavily into it I am.

"It's because I believe in it - that's what makes it work." I tell him, holding up one of my Mooncalf dice. "Belief is one the cornerstones of magic. We alter reality on a whim, it's not the movement of the wand or the words that make magic happen, although they assist in the process." I explain, "It's because we believe we can, and then we use our intent to make it happen."

"That's not what any of our books say." Hermione fires back quickly, "They mention intent, but nowhere does it say anything about belief." She rattles off.

Harry on the other hand looks thoughtful. Ron nudges him in the side whispering something to him that makes him grimace and send me a guilty glance.

"It's not." I admit, "I'll wager it's mentioned in the seventh year books though." In fact, it is mentioned in the magical theory book for the seventh year. I read the book, it's only touched upon, but it's there. "Yet it makes sense to me, look at Neville as an example, there's nothing wrong with him, but he doesn't believe he is capable, so he struggles."

Well that and his wand, although I bet having a new found belief that his wand was his issue, helped make his spells work better after he got a new wand too, as he suddenly believed in himself more.

"Why wouldn't they mention it to us now then?" Hermione argues, looking excited to have a debate. She probably doesn't get much back when babbling magic at these two.

Ron is basically the poster child for - magic, it's just homework innit? Nothing exciting to see here.

"Most likely, because most eleven year olds can do the basics by learning spells and wand movements, but would completely flounder if told to just believe and visualize it happening." I theorize. I don't have access to anyone's lesson plans. But seeing the other eleven year olds around me, I doubt most could tap into their intent and belief on a regular consistent basis - without being distracted or losing focus. Easier to train in muscle memory for spells with words and wand movements. It would have results, eventually. Just not as strong or immediate as someone with enough belief and focus - that can properly visualize what they want.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"So I just have to believe in the spell?" Harry asks me intently.

Ron scoffs, "Harry, mate, don't believe everything you hear. They'd teach us like that if it worked like that."

"The way I've done it, and have so far succeeded in doing it." I say pointedly, "Is that I visualize what I want the spell to do, I believe I can do so and that it will work as such. Then I push my focus and intentions into the spell, saying the words, focusing on the end result, and usually a perfect spell comes out, if not on the first try, then in the next couple tries."

"What about spells for higher years?" Hermione asks, eyes intent on me. She's scribbling down everything I've been saying.

I shrug, "Seems to work the same way so far, I just get more fatigued using those spells. We're still first years after all."

Likely the more I work on it, the more my stamina - so to speak, would increase, and I would get less and less fatigued from spellcasting. There's a reason dueling doesn't start until third year, most normal eleven and twelve year olds don't have enough in the tank until then.

I will of course be an outlier, and I'm sure Harry could be if he put in the effort too. Hermione probably will never put away her books long enough to be equal in a practical sense. And Ron is … Well Ron. No offense, mate.

"So I need to really focus and really want it to happen, and picture it in my mind?" Harry says quietly, looking deep in thought. We all ignore Ron rolling his eyes at us. He'll understand eventually.

"Yes, you should definitely put aside half an hour a day at least, to just try some spells, use your magic 'muscle' a bit, get used to it." I say, pleasantly surprised that he seems interested. Anything that makes him a more competent spellcaster is good in my book.

"I never thought about that before." Hermione muses, looking down at her notes. She looks back up at me and her eyes are sharp, "We don't really practice that much magic in class, not really, not so far." She continues, "If we want to get ahead, we'll have to practice our spells too, not just the theory, and not just once, actually use magic until we're tired." She seems lost in her own world after that, furiously scribbling down what appears to be a spellcasting schedule.

Seems if I want Harry to do anything. I just have to convince Hermione and she'll put it on a schedule, I think, fairly amused at it all.

"Well, Hermione is on the case." I say amusedly, "You boys are going to get sharp in your spellcasting whether you like it or not, now."

"Bloody hell, why did you have to go and do that!?" Ron groans, "Right pain she'll be, right Harry?"

Harry fiddles with his hands, avoiding Ron's gaze, "I think Hermione and Lucas have the right idea, Ron." He says quietly. "More practice instead of reading is better, right?" He tries to soften it a bit, sounding almost pleading.

Ron grumbles slightly, but doesn't say another word in protest. Whether he agrees with more practical work being better, or just realizes Harry has his mind made up, I don't know.

I hadn't really planned this, but it would be all for the best if the trio spent some time actually practicing spells. Harry definitely should have something better than just Expelliarmus in his eventual tool kit.

"I'll help out anytime, if I'm free." I offer, knowing that helping them get stronger was all good for me, and getting on their good side is even better.

"Thank you, Lucas." Hermione says distractedly, showing that she's still paying attention, even while in schedule planning mode.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry and Ron both say quietly, one lost in thought, the other kind of begrudgingly.

I bring out my potions book and the potion ingredients compendium. Best to just get started trying to bash ingredient reactions into these two guys' heads. I could teach them how to brew a potion, and they'll just fuck up on the next one. All the better to teach them why it reacts differently to different ingredients, heat, stirring and all the different small things that affect their potion making.

To my pleasure Harry and Ron do seem to be receptive to my less lecturing methods of explaining things. Although I doubt they'll ever please Snape either way.

I'm not a miracle worker.

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After leaving the golden trio I make the trek up to the Astronomy tower instead of returning to my friends. The headaches I've been having lately have made me eschew company more often than not, avoiding noise where I can.

Since I'm studying the entire Astronomy curriculum - amongst others, for the upcoming winter holidays. The Astronomy tower space room - is not only vital in helping me memorize all the theory quicker, it's also so damn beautiful and cool. I can't help but work harder just sitting in there.

During the day it always seems to be devoid of students as well, which is an extra plus. Day or night does not matter for the enchanted ceiling, it shows space itself, and space is always dark.

I have not been there for even five minutes, my books still unopened, as I just gaze up into the stars, when I'm interrupted in my musings.

"Mister Greenwood, here again I see." Professor Sinistra says with a wry smile, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

"It's just…" I try to explain my attraction to this room, and to this subject, but fail to find the words.

Professor Sinistra smiles softly, "Ah, I had thought so, in our first class together." She says quietly, moving forward to sit on the desk next to me, kicking her feet in the air almost playfully, as she gazes up at the stars. "It is rare I get a student who's enchanted so quickly." She looks wistful as she continues, "It's extremely rare to find any students willing to devote themselves to the celestial and its glory and mystery."

"Space…The celestial bodies, all of it. It's so beautiful and alien and mysterious. Even before I knew of magic, space drew my attraction" I say, staring above me, "Now… I've been studying the entirety of the Astronomy curriculum and it's even more amazing then I could have ever dreamt of." I finish, watching together with Sinistra as the view above us shows a dying star collapsing into a supernova briefly, the intense lights flashing across the cosmos, before the view switches to that of an array of stellar phenomena, glittering clouds of some dust like material floating through space.

"Studying the entire curriculum is an ambitious project for someone so young. And also in a way - saddening." Professor Sinistra leans back slightly, letting out a sigh, she seems less strict in a one on one situation. In our class she had been as strict as McGonagall until her last passionate speech. Although more willing to let out a quick smile and a 'good work' for a student.

"Saddening?" I ask, cautiously. I haven't had the best of luck with professors so far. Even though Sinistra honestly probably ranks in my top three thus far.

Professor Sinistra smiles down at me, dimples appearing in her cheeks, "I'm assuming if you're studying this intently - so quickly. You're intending to pass out of my class. As a teacher, finding such a passionate student, and then never getting to teach him, is a saddening prospect."

I squirm slightly, "I'll still be coming up here, I won't stop learning just because I intend to take the tests." I promise, Astronomy fascinates me, almost as much as Divination, which has grasped a hold of me.

Perhaps it's because these subjects were never expounded on much that I feel such a keen interest in them.

"If you pass the tests at a decent enough level, I might be convinced to supervise some self study." Professor Sinistra dangles over my head, a small, self satisfied smirk on her face. "Only for the best and brightest, you understand." She winks at me.

"I'd be honored." I say seriously. And I'm not kidding. Personal time with a Hogwarts professor is beyond ridiculously valuable.

"You'll have to pass first, Mister Greenwood." Professor Sinistra says, sliding off the desk, straightening her robes primly. "I've never accepted any student into further studies with less than an O."

I nod seriously, I never intended to take the tests with anything less than the ability to pass them with a perfect - or better score. That's why I was prioritizing the classes that were 80 percent or more, theory related.

Adult mind or not, there's no way I'd pass a wand class OWL or NEWT right now. I'd probably not even have the stamina to finish all the practical tests to begin with.

Astronomy, Arithmancy, History of Magic. Until seventh year they were almost completely theory based, and of course History of Magic always remains so. I already have more of a basis in math then all seven years of Arithmancy could teach me, so I was well ahead of the curve there, able to focus on the limited amount of practical spell crafting, ward based uses, as well as ritual based uses for Arithmancy - that is taught in seventh year.

Astronomy likewise doesn't go into most practical uses until seventh year. Although I still need to memorize the entire theory of the six years preceding it, including memorizing much of the nearby cosmos and a large amount of details surrounding it, and the known effects it has on flora, magical rituals and ceremonies as well as magical beasts.

Divination and Muggle studies were easy enough. I needed Muggle studies books to gauge how far behind they were for the tests. Surprised to find the wizarding world, on a knowledge test basis at least - was only twenty years behind - hardly hard to pass for a muggleborn. As for divination, the things used for OWLs and NEWTs in the subject, I could already do, so it was mostly studying the peripheral knowledge for any extra credit.

Once the winter holidays were over. I'd be making a big splash in the news and at Hogwarts.

And now I potentially could see some private tutoring in Astronomy, which all in all will be pretty cool.

Odd though. I've only had almost two months of classes. I didn't think Sinistra would offer me something like this so early on, not that I thought she would at all… Me having a plan on taking the tests or not. I am still a first year muggleborn, an odd choice for continued tutelage.

Perhaps she recognizes my passion and wants to keep my flames of youth burning?

Maybe I'm just being too paranoid now.

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I'm only two days away from Halloween when I'm kidnapped by Tonks again. This time without any unpleasant reasons behind it.

"You did extremely well in a fight, for a first year, I figured I could teach you some cool tricks I've learned over the years. Stuff I've found in books, or blackmailed out of a Slytherin, well eventually… After you learn the basics." Tonks says exuberantly, bouncing along with my hand firmly gripped in hers.

"I'm not sure you should be revealing that so openly." I snark, trying to keep pace with her, as she drags me to her dueling practice room.

Tonks winks at me, "What's the point of blackmailing a Slytherin if you're not letting everyone know how cool you are?" She quips.

"Well probably the fact to avoid getting hexed by a Slytherin who now has everyone watching them, wondering what they were blackmailed over." I point out dryly.

Tonks laughs, briefly changing her hair orange, "A little hexing never killed someone."

"I'm pretty sure that's wrong actually." I mutter, mostly to myself, as Tonks is cheerfully dragging me through corridors.

"I've been hexed more times than I can count," Tonks says casually. "That's not even a footnote of my memories of Hogwarts."

"So… Hexed like four times then?" I tease her, a smirk blossoming onto my face.

Tonks snorts, sending me an amused look, "Pretty good for an ickle claw, but you'll need more than that to outwit someone as brilliant as me." She strikes a pose in the middle of the corridor, her hair turning fluorescent and spiked high.

"....Tonks, it's just us here, who are you posing for?"

Her hair turns pink and with softer spikes, her usual hairdo, as she sighs forlornly, "It's cuz you didn't strike a pose with me, someone would have totally stumbled onto us if you'd done that." She chides me lightly. Before grasping my hand and dragging me off again.

"...You thought I'd randomly perform a pose with you if you did one?" I ask, unable to help the smile growing on my face because of her antics. "Those hexes you were mentioning, did any hit your head?" I remark mockingly.

Tonks ruffles my hair, "So cute, how you're trying to be funny." She coos, "Besides, I'm not crazy. My mom had me tested." She sniffs haughtily, mockingly turning her hair blonde and changing her facial shape to a more narrow, classically beautiful one. No doubt modeled after Narcissa Malfoy - it bore some similarities to Andromeda after all and they were sisters.

"I'm honestly not surprised if that's true." I say, rolling my eyes as she gives me a disdainful pureblood princess look. "And you've obviously practiced that way too much."

Tonks giggles as her normal look resumes, "It's dead useful, you've no idea how many Slytherin parties I've snuck into like that. The pureblood princess routine works like a charm."

"They never question why you're not recognizable as a current Hogwarts student?" I ask, somehow not surprised.

Tonks chuckles as we finally approach our destination, "I just say I'm a relation of Narcissa Malfoy, switching the face and name up a little each year, they never question it."

"That's ridiculous." I shake my head, wondering what that says about the Malfoy's scary reputation, because surely the Slytherins were smart enough to figure out something was up.

Tonks opens the door, ushering me inside, smirking, "I'm good at ridiculous!" She boasts proudly.

I can't help but to chuckle along, Tonks is easily able to improve my mood every time, just with her exuberance and cheerful mien.

"Why would you even want to sneak into those parties, it's pureblood ponces, aren't they just dreadfully boring?" I ask, somewhat curious despite everything. I'd never want to actually be a Slytherin, but any insight into the house was valuable.

Tonks gains a wicked smirk, "The first year I snuck in, I just stayed on the sidelines, face red as a tomato the entire time. Those Slytherins are kinky!" She purrs, fanning her face.

I blanch, "Forget I asked." I really don't want to know now. And half convinced she must be lying to me. No way she dared to get up to anything like that - practically wearing Narcissa Malfoy's face…

Merlin, what if Narcissa knows?

Tonks pouts, "But I have a great story about me, a seventh year Slytherin girl, a sixth year Slytherin boy and a bowl of punch used in a non traditional way." She whines playfully, still a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Not interested."

"But!"

"Tonks, no!"

"But the punch…"

"Tonks I'm eleven!"

"The magic was really quite clever, I've never been able to look at punch, or any liquid the same way…"

"Don't make me owl your mother…"

…

"Low blow, Lucas." She grumbles, but settles down, her lips still twitching.

I have a hard time keeping serious myself, eventually just chuckling, shaking my head, "What did you want to teach me anyway?" I reorientate the conversation.

Tonks lights up, sliding her wand out of its holster - reminding me I need to find a way to get one of those. She twirls it playfully, "You're never going to beat someone like me in a spell for spell kind of fight until you're older." She taps her wand on her lips, I hide a smile, no doubt Moody will lose it on her for such a habit when she's apprenticed to him.

"Because of my stamina, right?" I ask.

Tonks hums thoughtfully, "That's as good a word as any I suppose, most people just say that your magical core has not matured enough to handle that kind of output of magic yet." She shrugs, "You just can't keep it up as long as most boys, yet!" She winks at me.

I roll my eyes, although secretly pleased that - although probably inappropriate for my age, she feels comfortable enough with me to tease. I had asked around about Tonks and Ophelia after our little fight. And if Hogwarts rumor mill is even close to true, she's had few friends and several unpleasant incidents through the years. Ophelia and Charlie Weasley apparently the only two people she ever spent a significant amount of time with, before me. And I'm eleven, which makes it kind of sad.

"So I'm guessing you're teaching me either some sort of area denial spell or something to help me run away?" I ask, figuring if we're not talking spell to spell, then tricky and underhanded is probably the way forward.

Tonks grins cheerfully, "An O for the top student, that's exactly it, I'm going to teach you how to cheat, get them in the nuts, confuse and obfuscate."

"Should I call it the Tonks way?" I jeer good naturedly.

Tonks outright cackles, throwing her head back, finding some deep amusement in what I had said.

"Something I said?" I ask dryly. Not sure I want this answer either.

She snickers, "The Tonks way is what Ophelia dubbed it, after one too many hits somewhere sensitive." She says cheerfully.

"I don't want to know, what spell are you starting with?" I ask, moving straight away from that avenue of questions, not needing anymore Ophelia secrets.

"We'll start with Aguamenti and Glacius, good for a quick area denial, or at least forcing someone to deal with it before continuing to fling spells at you. Even better if you can nail them with both spells as well, it's hard to enunciate well when freezing cold." Tonks explains, with a silly grin still on her face, no doubt I'll hear more ridiculous stories throughout the lesson. "Then if you can get that down, we'll go for avis, conjuring birds might be a bit much for you, but if you can get it down, it's dead useful both to eat spells, and to use with Oppugno to dive bomb your opponent with them and take away their vision."

I can already feel a headache forming, but I push it aside, learning new magic is worth any discomfort. "I already know Aguamenti."

Tonks grins wildly, "Good! Then we can maybe even squeeze in silencio, not too useful against an adult wizard, but to anyone below seventh year, they'll probably struggle if they can't say their spells."

My wild grin matches Tonks.

Let's do some magic!

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I enter the Undercroft some hours later, mind troubled - the spells were achieved, but my headache is much worse.

I also ran into two professors in the short distance between the Undercroft and the dueling room, both Flitwick and Sprout pressing me for why I'm not showcasing my skills to the level they suspect I can do.

I have been trying to lay low and keep myself unremarkable - and failing at that. Yet it seems like that plan not only fails so far in keeping the start of my Hogwarts time quiet, but it is not working in regards to keeping safe either. Both have failed utterly.

Quirrell obviously is dangerous - and also targeting me for whatever reason, it can't just be that damn article. I obviously can not just avoid him, especially as he might then focus solely on Harry. His divided attention is for better or worse, necessary.

My plan had been completely derived from canon. It was time to discard it. I wanted to avoid rocking the boat early on. Knowing that by winter holidays I'd be drawing a lot of attention. So my plan had been simple. Keep a low profile for the first semester, make friends, observe the other students and teachers. Pick out potential allies and enemies.

That way, when the winter holiday arrived with fanfare, I'd be somewhat unknown until then, able to suss out dangers and opportunities before I'd be somewhat famous. And then use my knowledge to take advantage in any way I could, having been able to take the pulse on regular Hogwarts going ons by then.

That's all fucked now. The Slytherins for some reason are being nice to me, making it hard for me to assess where the threats from there will be, the professors seem to realize I'm holding back, with how they've pushed me in classes recently… And the recent pleasant interrogation on whether I'm feeling ill - since I'm not performing to the standard they somehow know I can do.

I suppose it was folly to ever believe I could fool a Hogwarts professor in their own subject as to my own competence.

I've been too passive. If I'm going to not only survive this world - but thrive. I need to get proactive. So canon is fucked. So what? I still know important information, and the important people involved. I can make it work.

I have to make it work. I can't just wait and react. It will be too late.

I roll my dice between my fingers, wincing as another headache hits me. I've been getting them a lot these past weeks. It's funny how Pomfrey can heal me if I lose an arm, but get a headache and the potions she gives me for it isn't doing anything at all.

I freeze suddenly, two fingers pressed against my forehead. Why? How? Why have I ignored this pain for weeks? How have I ignored that the potions haven't been working?

I've been somewhat scatterbrained ever since I got to Hogwarts, or really ever since I got to the magical world in the first place.

But not to this level!

Why have I been ignoring this!?

….

I pace in front of the paintings of Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt a minute later. "There is something wrong with my mind. I can't explain it. I just know!" I growl out, frustrated, my mind can't seem to grasp it, like it's slipping out of my reach whenever I focus on it.

The last few weeks my mind has regressed further away from what I feel was my adult persona, I keep acting silly even to my own detriment, drawing attention needlessly, my mind jumping from topic to topic and having trouble focusing. And of course there have been occasions of intensely painful headaches. What is going on?

"Why would anyone mess with your mind? You're a first year Hufflepuff muggleborn?" Sebastian rolls his eyes, not taking me seriously.

"I've practiced meditation and Occlumency for years! I know when something feels off with myself." I immediately snipe back, bitterly. All the Occlumency books were in the restricted section, no sane way to get in there. No professor would sign a slip for me, especially if I asked about fucking mind magic! So I have no way of knowing how to check my own mind at this moment. Other than continued meditation which hasn't succeeded so far.

"You have what!?" Ominis bites out sharply, talking to me for the first time in weeks, making both Sebastian and me do a double take as he turns around in his portrait, face full of disbelieving scorn.

"What? Practiced Occlumency? It wasn't impossible to figure out." I say, figuring this would be another rant on the impossibilities of my abilities - or my whole persona. Ominis believes everything about me to be a lie. Which he isn't all that incorrect about either, which just adds to the frustration - as there's nothing I can really do to change his mind.

"Are you mad?" Ominis says scornfully, putting his face in his hands. "Occlumency is restricted for a reason, you fool!"

"It can't be that dangerous, my potions professor figured out I had shields in our first meeting, he never said anything." I say dismissively. Although I'm feeling a slight kernel of worry. Snape… Isn't always the most… Helpful.. Would he have told me?

"This is why muggleborns fail so regularly in the magical world!" Ominis spits out, surprising me, as I know he doesn't hold prejudices that way, "It is mind magic you absolute buffoon!" He continues, working up into a rant, smacking the palm of his right hand against the canvas. "Children's magic is derived from pure emotion driven chaos, why do you think we don't match a wand until eleven? Even purebloods trying to give their child an early boost do not give wand lessons before ten!"

"Ominis, what are you saying?" Sebastian asks, eyes narrowed.

"How early did you start? TELL ME!" Ominis shouts at me, drawing a startled exclamation from Sebastian.

I hesitate, I'm starting to have a really bad feeling about all this, "When I was six…"

"You…You stupid, moronic, idiotic, brain-dead, fool!" Ominis curses, pacing in his canvas, looking supremely agitated. "You've spent your childhood years running chaotic wild magic through your brain! You're lucky you're sane! Merlin and Morgana, you're lucky to be alive!" He slumps against the border of his portrait, muttering despairingly, "I am destined to spend eternity with stubborn fools who rush straight into the most dangerous magics with no precautions…"

"Ominis, I appreciate a good rant from you, as always, but explain what you mean, chaotic wild magic? I've never heard it explained that way? Is it like…." Sebastian gives me a side eye, stopping, before staring intently at Ominis.

Ominis shakes his head, "No, not like that kind of magic. It's more like the primeval force of the universe - untamed magic. Magic doesn't settle into what we know and use - until ten-eleven usually. It's chaotic, wild, unrefined before then. That's why there are incidents of accidental magic - as your emotions feed it." He growls quietly, before turning my way again, "And what have you done? No doubt bottled all your feelings up everyday, eh? Ran that chaotic magic through your ignorant head!" He shakes his head, "Magic powered by emotions is usually high level dark or light magic! The only reason it's so benign as a child is because it's only ever projected outwards, grabbing a favorite toy, punishing a bully, your emotions feeding and powering the unrefined chaos and letting it loose, outwards. Yet you purposely trained it to project inwards, I honestly have no idea how you're even sane!"

I swallow heavily, it all sounds….Bad. "I'm eleven now though? Is it safe now? I mean I lived?"

Ominis sneers, "Well, there's not like anything can be really done at this point, probably why your Professor didn't say a word. You've survived. Not much he can do to help really, except explain how stupidly risky it was and how much you've likely screwed up your mind!" He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing explosively, "Your mind remained somewhat stable as you were in the muggle world and your magic was all it knew - and you had already survived, somehow. Now you're surrounded by magic wards and spend time around magic at all times, your chaotic, haphazardly built mind is struggling in finding its equilibrium - because it's used to chaos, being fed all your emotions, not stability!"

"What do you mean not much can be done?" I ask sharply. My hand clenching around my wand, a way for me to settle myself. I still have magic, I still have my mind, I can fix this, I have to be able to fix this!

Ominis sighs, looking weary suddenly. "You've likely, by complete accident mind you - partitioned your mind - one hidden part - one not. It's a plausible defense mechanism to survive the chaos you no doubt inflicted on your own mind. You've survived it, so you're now on the path to becoming an Occlumens - and likely a ridiculously powerful one, by surviving such a vigorous mental ordeal, so congratulations…" He frowns, blind eyes staring straight ahead. "You likely have memories, thoughts, dreams, all locked up somewhere in there. Chaos was running through your little young mind - hiding it here and there - and literally everywhere."

I freeze, my random recollections of my family, that are so fleeting, hard to grasp, and so quickly disappear again, the fact I remember so little. "So that's why my memories get so scattered lately - I've literally partitioned most of them away from my conscious stream of thought - or my usable memory space so to speak." I murmur, hands clenching. "It also explains why my attention sometimes flitters from subject to subject so easily…" Especially anything from before. I literally can't draw too deeply on whatever I remembered, it slips out of my mental fingers if I try.

Ominis doesn't answer, just wearily stares ahead, one hand rubbing his forehead slowly. Sebastian seemingly in deep thoughts as he watches his friend.

"Can it be fixed?" I ask Ominis quietly. Sebastian watching me suddenly, an unreadable expression on his face now.

Ominis hesitates, "Possibly… If you reach the level of skill in Occlumency… And Legilimency. You might possibly tease out the hidden parts of your own mind. It could take years…"

At least this all has had one benefit. It's likely if Snape or Quirrell were to use Legilimency on me, they'd find nothing of my old life. All of it buried deeply - so I'm guessing, due to my own trouble remembering many things not related to the Harry Potter books and related knowledge.

I suppose I should be thankful I've managed to keep those memories at least.

"Is he going to become more scatterbrained in the meantime? I mean he's already a Hufflepuff, he can't afford to lose anything else." Sebastian drawls, arms crossed as he stares his friend down.

Ominis scoffs quietly, seemingly drained due to his emotional reaction, "Now that he knows, and can work on his Occlumency with professional advice!" This is practically hissed in my direction, before he continues, "He should not deteriorate further… It will be years of practice and acquiring Legilimency skills before he can stitch all his lost parts together…" He furrows his brows, "Actually… It shouldn't even have deteriorated this far, this soon… Curious."

I let out a breath, years, it is okay. It's fixable. I haven't completely fucked myself. I guess it was arrogant of me to mess with mind magic based on fanon and fan theories. "What about the pain? Is that because of how chaotic my mind became?"

Ominis shakes his head, looking pained, "No… That means you've reached enough skill in Occlumency - enough sensitivity - that your mind is reacting to tampering." He snaps his fingers suddenly, "Ah, that's why your mind has deteriorated so quickly, someone's been tampering!"

I feel a cold chill traveling down my spine. "Tampering?" I ask, already fearing the answer.

"You've definitely been obliviated." Ominis says, giving me a pitying look - somehow still able to look right at me while blind. "With how sensitive and fragile your mind is from your idiotic escapades…" He sighs deeply, "You're feeling the after effects of the holes in memories that your Occlumency has not allowed to be fully eradicated - your extra sensitivity allowing you to feel it." He shrugs, "Small mercies I suppose. You've survived messing with your own mind, unintentionally strengthening it to a point you can feel the meddling of another."

"Huh, so in a way he's lucky that he's so sensitive to mind magic now, Ominis?" Sebastian asks, seemingly unconcerned now that he knows my mind won't melt on me.

"Yes… Lucky…" Ominis says dryly. "If he had been a pureblood, at least the wards and family magic he would be constantly around would have likely forced him to stabilize his Occlumency early on - facing much less danger of insanity. There have been some natural pureblood Occlumens before. So, yes, he's so lucky he is a muggleborn… " The sarcasm is practically dripping out of the portrait. "Other than going insane… Being stuck in the muggle world could result in that unrefined chaotic magic closing your mind completely off emotions entirely - or leaving it so open and ripped that you'd be an emotional wreck, flitting from one emotion to another, never stabilizing."

He sighs deeply again, "Those with no knowledge on Occlumency believe it regulates emotions, due to these few… Occurrences. That is not so. Occlumency is for defending your mind from intrusion. Keeping your secrets hidden. That is its sole purpose. However, mind magic by its essence can affect your emotions if you're mishandling it - as it is magic affecting your brain." Ominis looks pained to even be explaining all this, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Even purebloods generally don't even attempt Occlumency until fifteen-sixteen - the really keen ones. And even then it's not a guarantee it will have a good result, as a wizard's magic does not fully settle until their magical majority, most have the sense to wait until adulthood to gain the skill." He smiles bitterly, looking fragile, "Just like dark magic… When something says it is restricted… It means restricted!"

Sebastian averts his eyes in his portrait, fists clenched.

I close my eyes, biting on my thumb as I think rapidly. There's really only one suspect who'd realistically obliviate me. Quirrell. The why, that's the question I'm wondering about. What could I possibly have found out that he had needed to have me obliviated for. Also I have obviously heavily miscrued the purpose of Occlumency, none of the fanon utilities of the art seem to exist. Idly my thoughts also go to Tom Riddle. A natural at magic from an early age, unlike myself who couldn't seem to figure out wandless magic until I had a wand. He was stuck in the muggle world… Is this… Did he shut off all his emotions, all his empathy and care - unintentionally from a young age? Either way, it's hardly what I need to worry about right now. I focus again on what's important.

I open my eyes, finally resolute, shedding my fears and hesitation, eyes hard and unforgiving. No more playing around…

"Oh, now that's a look…" Sebastian whistles, a sharp grin on his face. "I like this look! Oh if you could see it, Ominis!"

I have been too lax. Too scared of all the changes to act - to upend the board. Just because things were different it did not mean I did not have avenues to take.

"I think… It is time I get active." I growl, beyond incensed that my mind has been violated. My own fuckup, I've survived, I can work through it, fix it - hone it to perfection. Someone tampering with my mind however… I'll find a way. Someway to get that bastard. My fear is bleeding away to anger now, my mind is sacrosanct, the whole reason I wanted Occlumency to begin with.

"Ominis… If I find a way to practice Legilimency… Will that help my mind faster? Help me in piecing the partitions together as you mentioned?" I ask forcefully, not willing to take any refusal to answer now. Ominis will answer me! And he will be answering my questions on Occlumency from now on.

Ominis seems to hesitate, silently thinking, I stare at him intently, "Ominis…" I say warningly. I'm sure there's a lot I could do to a painting before completely destroying it. This is my mind we're talking about. I'll have no compunctions about it.

"Yes. Fine. If you somehow can practice it, it would help." He says reluctantly. "As you survived so far, your Occlumency should be gaining in strength soon, the side effects lessening or disappearing, with proper practices." He stresses the last words intently.

I do have a way…

I certainly haven't been planning on interfering to a level even comparable to what I am thinking right now… But… My mind has been violated. How much longer can I passively sit at the sidelines - scared to make a move?

Out of all the things in the magical world that could happen, anything messing with my mind is my absolute worst case scenario. Without my mind…

Death is preferable to losing my faculties or all my memories. At least I have survived my own meddling, which will apparently now lead to an even stronger affinity for mind magic. Just a momentary weakness for now, until I fix my own mistakes.

I've been making too many mistakes.

No… It is time to start acting. Canon is shot to shit anyway. So upending the canon board won't have the consequences it once had. I can't afford to care if I suffer the loss of my knowledge of how future events go, when it's already so completely different I can't predict it anyway.

"Ominis, you will teach me Occlumency, properly. I can't afford to accept any silence from you, from now on." I say harshly. "I will have someone to practice Legilimency on, shortly…"

Sebastian applauds me, a wry smirk on his face, "Now that's more like it, how can you say no to that, Ominis?" His smirk grows sharper, "A Slytherin Hufflepuff, who would have thought…"

Ominis frowns, slumped down against a chair in his portrait, "I… Will help with Occlumency." He says slowly, very reluctantly. He straightens immediately after, brow furrowed, "I will not assist in Legilimency against any innocent!" He states firmly. Unbendingly. "Or a student!" He adds quickly. Realizing that not all students necessarily fell into the innocent category. He had been a Slytherin and a Gaunt after all.

I chuckle, if there's a tinge of hysteria to it, no one calls me out on it. "Don't worry, Ominis… This particular rat is far from innocent…"

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