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Tonks residence,

Sitting at the breakfast table, my knee bouncing under the table in a way that's probably obvious to everyone, I realize I haven't been able to shake the restlessness from last night. It's barely been eight hours since I sent my owl to Professor Flamel, and I know it's absurd to expect a response already. But after the meeting last night - Marvolo Gaunt appearing like that at the party, and Dumbledore's shocking silence on it all - every minute feels like it's stretching on.

Hence my owl to Professor Flamel, because there is no way Dumbledore didn't know about it beforehand, so I'm not going to ask him.

He just didn't care to inform me, despite our agreement to share information… So I'll treat him just the same as he does me.

… If only it works that way, Professor Flamel will likely just share it anyway.

Voldemort in politics. Never thought I'd see the day he'd get more evil, Tonks mutters mentally from beside me, clearly reading my thoughts. She's making a face at me, but her mental tone is a little too serious to be just a joke. Still, she reaches over, ruffling my hair as she leans in, and her thigh presses comfortably against mine, a steady warmth against the jittery energy that's been churning inside me since last night.

She's always willing to back me up, and feeling my restless energy, she's ensuring she's close by, and I appreciate the thought, because it does help.

Across the table, Ted doesn't even blink at my obvious restlessness. He's simply reading the paper, the headlines are still about Sirius Black - the outrage at his escape still dominating the page. Even Andromeda barely acknowledges Tonks or me during this peaceful breakfast, lifting her tea in her usual calm manner, though I can see her eyes flick to us with a faint smirk as Tonks ruffles my hair.

Then Tonks holds up a spoonful of sweetened porridge with a playful glint in her eye, making a little growling noise. "Here comes the dragon! Open up!"

"You've got to be kidding," I say flatly, crossing my arms over my chest and giving her an unimpressed look. I'm not five, I think at her pointedly through our connection.

Really, why am I even surprised? Of course she'll do something stupid to try and cheer me up.

Ted chuckles behind his paper, without even looking up. "When Dora wants something, lad, she finds a way to get it, just bear with it."

I let out a slow sigh but keep my mouth shut and my lips sealed, resisting the spoon Tonks keeps pushing closer and closer to my lips. I send Andromeda a pleading look, hoping she'll intervene, but she simply sets her teacup down and rests her chin on her hands, an amused smile spreading across her face.

"I think it's adorable," Andromeda says, her tone far too sweet for my liking as she watches Tonks continue to make baby noises at me.

"Et tu, Andromeda?" I give her a betrayed look, wondering where the stoic, dignified, pureblood lady was hiding at a moment like this, managing to squeeze out the words and then close my mouth again before Tonks can spoon feed me through her 'dragon'.

Before I can protest again, I feel a sudden pinch on my inner thigh, and an involuntary yelp slips out of me. In that split second of distraction, Tonks seizes her chance, stuffing the spoon of porridge into my mouth as she giggles victoriously. Sputtering, I swallow, glaring at her as I plot my revenge.

Keeping my hand discreetly under the table, I silently cast a wandless stinging hex aimed at her inner thigh in retaliation - a tiny sting for the pinch, which she responds to by yelping loudly in surprise, her hair shooting straight up and turning a violent shade of red as she squirms visibly in her seat.

Her hand which has been ruffling my hair, tightens suddenly, giving my hair a harsh tug as she shoves my face down, right into my half-empty bowl of porridge. "Wai-" My protest is cut off as I go face-first into the oatmeal with a splat. Andromeda and Ted both continue with their breakfast like nothing is wrong.

What in Merlin's name was that for? I think at her, struggling to lift my head from the porridge. It was just a stinging hex to the thigh!

That was NOT my thigh! Her mental voice echoes in my head, laced with exasperation, and I watch her squirm in her seat, finally piecing together what must've happened.

I blink, cheeks warming as I attempt a silent apology. "Ah… okay, I deserved that." I admit out loud, trying to sound as dignified as possible while wiping porridge from my face.

Andromeda sighs and shakes her head, but there's a soft look in her eyes. "You two really do act like siblings sometimes," She says, as I grasp my wand and mutter out a quick Scourgify.

Ted finally looks up from his paper, chuckling as he surveys the scene. "Nice to see you two acting like children for once. You're both too serious sometimes, you know."

I manage a rueful smile, watching as Tonks's hair finally shifts back from fiery red to her usual bright pink look, clearly not thrilled with her dad's comment. "Serious?" I ask, glancing between Ted and Tonks with a faint smirk. "Tonks? Are we talking about the same person?"

Tonks pinches my side, raising a challenging eyebrow at me, and I zip my lips before I start something more.

Ted raises an eyebrow, returning to his paper with an exaggerated sigh. "All the more reason to encourage it, son. You should both take a page out of my book and learn to lighten up."

I'm still left to wonder where this serious Tonks he's talking about is. Have I met her?

I wince as I get pinched again, Tonks plucking the thought right out of my mind.

Andromeda, apparently feeling merciful, waves her wand and refills my bowl from the steaming pot on the stove. I murmur a quiet thanks, trying to maintain some dignity, though it's already well past the point for that.

Tonks crosses her arms, scrunching up her nose in mock annoyance. "Honestly, Dad, you're making me sound old. Like… You, when you say it like that, I'm going to be an Auror, I'm not a kid anymore..."

Ted simply raises his paper a bit higher, ignoring her words with a casual grace that leaves her pouting at not getting a bite.

Before the banter can go any further, a bright chime rings through the room, the unmistakable sound of the wards announcing a visitor. I sit up straight, every bit of my attention snapping toward the door. Surely it can't be? Why wouldn't he send an owl…?

Andromeda's gaze turns shrewd as she glances at me, eyebrows raised. "Now, why would Professor Flamel be here this early in the morning?" She asks, her tone laced with that infuriating knowing tone she is so good with.

She turns her sharp gaze on Tonks, who just barely avoids flinching, even if in this instance she hasn't actually done anything. For once. "What did you two do?" Andromeda asks, tapping a finger on the table slowly.

"I'm not even in Hogwarts anymore, how could I have done anything!?" Tonks protests, feigning innocence with a wide-eyed look, though her words echo in my mind at the same time. Wring all the information out of the old man, I want to know everything after!

With a sigh, I push my chair back, giving her an exasperated look as I stand. I'm half-expecting Andromeda to keep questioning us, but she waves me toward the door, her expression softening slightly as she gestures for Tonks to stay and finish her breakfast.

"Go on, Lucas. And Tonks, you'll help clean up, show a good example now," Andromeda says, giving her daughter a pointed look.

Tonks groans, letting her head fall to the table dramatically. "But Mum -"

"Dear, you can't honestly expect us to believe that you wouldn't meddle, even from outside Hogwarts." Andromeda's smile is faint, but the authority in her tone leaves no room for argument. "You two are as thick as thieves, anything he's done, I know you're involved in."

With a small nod to everyone at the table, I take a steadying breath and make my way to the door, my mind racing. The sooner I get answers from Professor Flamel, the better. I just hope he's got some.

I know things have changed, but for Voldemort to so brazenly walk amongst us, playing politics…

More must have changed then what I had been made aware of at the end of the school year…

…

Professor Flamel is indeed the guest standing on the doorstep, his tall frame wrapped in deep blue robes, looking both ageless and ancient all at once as usual. His eyes, piercing and bright as ever, meet mine the moment I open the door, and he inclines his head, his gaze chipper and full of mischievousness in a way I've come to dread.

"Lucas," He says, his voice quiet but unmistakably warm. "I trust my early arrival is not an inconvenience."

"Not at all, Professor." I step back, opening the door wider and gesturing for him to come in. "Please, It's… good to see you. I hadn't expected a visit so soon."

As he steps inside, he glances around the cozy entryway, taking in the Tonks household with an approving nod. There's something oddly comforting about having him here, despite the tense anticipation coiling in my gut. For all his enigmatic ways, Professor Flamel's presence has a way of grounding me - his steadiness, his calm. I close the door behind him, trying to push back the million questions already flooding my mind.

"Would you like some tea, Professor?" I offer, trying to buy myself a moment to compose myself. Right here and now, is not the time and place to bring up Voldemort.

Flamel inclines his head, a faint smile touching his lips. "Thank you, Lucas. Tea would be most welcome."

Seated in the sitting room, I pour tea with practiced politeness, glancing up as Professor Flamel raises his cup in a nod of thanks. Small talk ensues out of politeness if nothing else. We're both aware that this cozy little sitting room, as warm as it is, isn't the place to discuss Gaunt or anything close to it. Andromeda and Ted might hear us, and quite frankly the less they know about such, the better.

I don't want to repay their kindness by making them sick with worry.

Still, I decide to take advantage of the lull to see how things are going at Hogwarts, my eyes drifting to the teapot before I say, "So, how's Hogwarts been treating you? I imagine you don't get many chances for peace and quiet now that the other professors are beginning to arrive for the school year? Are they hounding you yet?"

His expression softens with genuine humor. "Ah, Albus has occupied much of my time, so I haven't had enough time to see any such issues, nor perhaps will I, your Professors aren't children, no matter how much time they spend around them." He chides gently.

"Not had a chance to make friends with the staff then?" I try to keep my tone light, but my curiosity is genuine. I can't quite picture Professor Flamel sitting at a Hogwarts staff table, sharing stories with Professor Snape for example. He's a bit like Dumbledore sure, though infinitely less cryptic, but his sense of humor would likely not mesh well with many of the staff members.

Professor Flamel chuckles. "Oh, I've made attempts. But Albus had a word or two to share about my... 'Wild ways' before I arrived. You might say my colleagues have been adequately warned off, though it does ruin my reputation a touch." His eyes sparkle as he sips his tea. He doesn't seem too bothered.

I raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. "I can only imagine the horror stories he's shared. You must be quite the terror in their eyes." Just from my experiences with the man, I can only imagine the crazy stuff he's gotten up to in years past.

"Oh, indeed. I hear they're fully expecting me to start ravish them at the breakfast table, or perhaps vanish students who ask me too many questions. Some of them might end up avoiding my company as if I were a loose Nundu."

"Very unfair of them," I say with mock solemnity. "You're a terror, sure, but harmless enough. Mostly."

Professor Flamel lets out a low laugh, "Perhaps one day, Lucas, you'll come to understand that some sorts of terror is simply a byproduct of knowledge in the eyes of others. But I must confess... There are days lately when I do miss the solitude of my own little world. Hogwarts is lovely, of course, but you'd be surprised how loud the magic is there."

I nod, finishing my tea. That's the thing about Professor Flamel - he always manages to let something slip, some small fragment of thought, that makes me wonder what's really going on under the surface. But before I can probe further, he sets his cup down, glancing up at me with a new spark of intention in his eyes.

"Now, if it wouldn't be too much of an imposition, would you ask your guardians for permission for a... field trip?" His tone is casual, but there's an edge to it, a hint that this 'trip' is anything but ordinary.

Which is par for the course for my interactions with him.

I don't press him. I know exactly why he wants us to go somewhere else - and it's not for sightseeing - it's to privately discuss the issue about Voldemort. With a nod, I set my cup down and head back to the kitchen, finding Tonks bent over the sink, grumbling as she scrubs dishes by hand. Andromeda's watching her with mild amusement, clearly overseeing the task with a level of satisfaction she can't quite hide.

I clear my throat, glancing between them. "Professor Flamel's asked if we can go on a field trip. It'll probably be... A while, but I promise to be back by five." I think…

Considering some of my previous trips with him, who knows really?

Andromeda turns to look at me, her expression a mix of curiosity and faint skepticism. "Five, hmm?" She studies me for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "Fine, as long as you're back by then. And I expect full accounts of any adventures." She arches an eyebrow, and I can't help but feel like she sees more than she lets on.

Before I can retreat, she raises her arms expectantly, one of those subtle smiles tugging at her lips. "And a hug before you go," She says.

I step forward and give her a quick, if somewhat embarrassed, hug. But no sooner do I step back than I feel a sharp look from Tonks, who's clearly waiting for her own. Before she can open her mouth, I reach out and wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her into a quick squeeze.

She snorts and elbows me lightly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I don't even bother with a comeback - it's better than acknowledging the list of questionable things Tonks might consider reasonable. I just give a small wave as I head back to Professor Flamel, who's waiting with a calm, patient look.

Together, we step outside the house, the cool morning air settling around us as we move toward the edge of the Tonks' wards. I can't help but feel that slight buzz of anticipation, though it's also tempered by a fair amount of wariness.

Once we're past the wards, Flamel holds out what appears to be an ancient, ragged sock. My stomach drops, immediately recognizing it for what it is - a portkey. I glance up at him, trying to keep my tone casual. "And where exactly is this going to take us?"

"Oh, just a hop and a skip," He says with that familiar smile, though this time, it feels a bit more... Serious, instead of mischievous..

I suppress a sigh, eyeing the sock. Knowing him, this 'hop and a skip' could mean just about anywhere - and most likely somewhere no reasonable person would choose for a simple private conversation. "You know, the eccentric geriatric mentor act is a little overdone. Maybe try something new in your... dotage."

He chuckles, giving me a small pat on the head. "If you're too chicken, we can always just go to Hogwarts and chat with Albie..."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I mutter under my breath, resigning myself as I take hold of the sock with two fingers.

There's that instant, gut-wrenching tug at my navel, the sickening spin of portkey travel dragging me through space, and then suddenly we're there, landing with a lurch that makes my head spin. Blinking to get my bearings, I realize we're standing on rough, mountainous terrain, surrounded by towering peaks and dense, wild forests stretching far and wide.

For a moment, all I can do is stare, taking in the jagged cliffs and sweeping ridges, the untouched wilderness cloaked in pine and cedar, the shadowed valleys that stretch out into some distant nowhere. It's starkly beautiful in a way I can't quite describe - as if it's a place untouched by time, by civilization. But none of it is even remotely familiar.

I'm pretty sure Britain doesn't have a mountain chain like that…

I've been illegally trafficked across a border. Again.

I narrow my eyes at him, folding my arms as I try to ground myself. "Did we just break about a dozen laws to get here?" I ask with my irritation clear.

All I want is to find out what's going on with Politico Voldemort, why the extra hassle?

He laughs, shaking his head. "I've told you before, Lucas. It's only a crime if you're not as awesome as I am."

I can't help a slight smirk at the pure amount of - don't give a fuck - he exudes, but I refuse to let him off that easily either way. "I'll make sure the arresting Aurors are made aware of how 'awesome' you are when they arrest you."

He chuckles, not even slightly bothered by my snark, as he gives my shoulder a light, reassuring pat. "Well, that's precisely why I need a minion like yourself, lad. It's gauche for me to tell them myself, but perfectly reasonable to have you do it for me."

The banter settles me slightly, though the landscape around us doesn't seem any less intimidating. With a resigned sigh, I look up at the massive ridges stretching around us, wondering what sort of strange thing Professor Flamel has in mind today. The towering cliffs stand like ancient guardians, and the deep forest stretches, thick and impenetrable, around us.

Professor Flamel, unfazed by the terrain, sets off toward the mountains, taking long, steady strides up the rocky incline as if he's merely going for a morning stroll.

I hurry after him, trying to keep my balance on the uneven ground. "So, what exactly are we doing here? Or is this another lesson in patience? Refusing my answers with another journey to distract me…"

He glances back with an almost conspiratorial look. "All in good time. For now, think of this as an opportunity for advancing your understanding of Divination."

I raise an eyebrow. "Divination? Out here?"

He nods, pausing to admire the view around us, his eyes bright and sharp. "This place has... special properties. Ancient magic flows through it, allowing even the young and relatively untrained to connect with the deeper mysteries of our world. Consider this a test, if you will."

I eye him warily. "A test to do what? Commune with the trees?"

Flamel chuckles, clearly amused by my skepticism. "Patience, Lucas. Just follow along. I'm curious to see what you pick up here before I share too much of my own... Views."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, glancing around at the seemingly endless wilderness. "Sure. Nothing like a quick lesson in divination in the middle of nowhere. What could go wrong?" I mutter under my breath, picking my way carefully over the rocks.

Flamel doesn't miss a beat. "That, Lucas, is precisely the attitude that holds most wizards back. When surrounded by the unknown, you can't afford to question the lesson itself - only the extent of your openness to it." His words are soft, but there's a weight behind them, the kind that makes you feel like you're missing something crucial right in front of your eyes.

As we climb higher, the forest around us grows denser, the air sharper and fresher than anything I've breathed before. The only sounds are the crunch of gravel underfoot and the distant murmur of wind weaving through the trees. Every now and then, Professor Flamel glances around, seemingly lost in thought, as though he's listening to something I can't hear.

He stops suddenly, turning to me with a faint, thoughtful smile. "Tell me, Lucas," He says, gesturing to the mountains that surround us, "What do you see?"

I frown, glancing around. "Uh… Mountains. Trees. Rocks. A lot of nothing, honestly." I admit I'm fairly irritated by now. I simply wanted some answers on Gaunt, not… Whatever this is.

Flamel gives a small shake of his head, his smile widening slightly. "Look again. Beyond the obvious."

I sigh, trying not to let my irritation show, and focus harder on the surroundings. At first, it's all the same - just craggy terrain and dense forest - but then I notice the way the light hits the trees at odd angles, as if filtering through something unseen. The shadows seem to shift ever so slightly, almost breathing with the breeze. And there, in the faintest wisp of mist curling up from the base of the cliffs, I sense something else… A presence, subtle but undeniable.

"This place... Feels alive," I murmur, half to myself. obviously it's a forest and it's alive… But it feels like more.

Flamel nods approvingly. "Exactly. The old magic that flows here… Ancient Magic - it isn't the kind you'll find in textbooks or lessons at Hogwarts. It's the kind that has lived here long before our kind found words to describe it. Diviners have come to these mountains for centuries, to listen and learn from what lies within these mountains."

I let out a long breath, taking in his words. The landscape around us, vast and unyielding, suddenly feels a little less empty, as if we're not as alone as it seems. "So… What are we supposed to do here? Are we looking for something specific?"

Professor Flamel hums, "Who knows…" He says, eyes glittering with amusement.

I let out a sigh, crossing my arms and scanning the wide stretch of mountains and dense forest around us. "Can we talk here? Wherever here is?" The landscape sprawls out endlessly, just peaks and treetops for as far as I can see.

"Soon enough," Professor Flamel replies, starting to hike up the rocky path. His voice has that amused, secretive tone he uses when he's got something up his sleeve. "I figured if you were asking me about Gaunt, you hadn't attempted to divine an answer yourself, correct?"

I give him a terse nod. Poking Voldemort with my magic…Again. Didn't seem a wise move. Now that he knew about me, his divination defense would no doubt be stronger than before.

I am still very aware of the fact Voldemort had wanted me as his own little divination tool locked up in his basement… So I'm in no way eager to even think of scrying him.

I fall in line behind Professor Flamel, clambering over stones and rough patches in the terrain as he makes his way toward the nearest mountain. "As for where we are..." He glances back at me with a little smile, like he's savoring some inside joke. "We're in Sweden, an old, old part of it." He chuckles, "Although actually this place existed long before Sweden was called that, so does it count? Hmm, an interesting thought."

Sweden. Alright. I glance around, as if expecting some ancient rune or hidden magical landmark to make sense of the detour, but all I see are more dense, shadowy forests rising into craggy cliffs. At least it's summer, so there's no frostbite threatening my hands or nose - but this far north, even summer is lightly chilled. I feel the coolness seeping through my cloak and layers.

Ignoring the hundred magical travel laws we've likely trampled over by just popping into another country, let alone some ancient hidden part, I pick up the pace to match him. "As for divination…Yes... I didn't want to risk it with him. Expercially not while I'm staying at the Tonkses' - too low in magic density compared to Hogwarts."

I don't necessarily need the boost to perform my divination, but it doesn't hurt either. As we walk, I continue to question him, "And what, exactly, is in Sweden that we can't discuss somewhere normal?" I ask, keeping my tone level but wary.

My last 'adventure' with Flamel resulted in another Black ancestor haunting my mental real estate, and I'm in no rush for a sequel. If I so much as catch a whiff of anything related to the Black family here, I'll turn back and run before he can blink.

Professor Flamel looks out over the mountains like he's admiring some secret wonder only he can see. "It's nothing like that. This is simply an old place, attuned to divination, where I can observe what you pick up on your own before I start filling your head with an old man's opinions."

I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. "There's nothing around here," I say flatly, glancing again at the vast landscape. Magic is good at hiding things, but still, I can't see any signs of a hidden enclave or a concealed ritual chamber - none of the trappings of some ancient mystical site.

Professor Flamel only gives me an amused look, and within minutes, from one step to the next, I step from wilderness, to a completely different sight.

The village comes into view as if someone has pulled aside a thick curtain, revealing a hidden world untouched by time. Nestled against the rugged mountainside, it looks every bit the ancient Scandinavian outpost, almost as if we've stepped back a thousand years. Small, sturdy dwellings dot the clearing, each one built of timber logs darkened with age, topped with thick thatched roofs, many covered in patches of moss. The huts are solid and wide, the roofs slanting low as if built to withstand heavy snow and the wild winds of winter. Intricate carvings run along the beams and door frames - symbols I recognize vaguely from books, absolutely ancient runes meant to protect against harm, to bring luck, to honor their ancestors.

Several of the larger buildings look more like upside down ship hulls than anything else, colorful shields all across the walls, giving everything a sort of viking appearance that I know doesn't fit in with anything in the magical history I've been taught.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

How interesting…

Animal furs are draped over nearly every surface; some hang like banners above doorways, others are laid over benches or even draped across the tops of fire pits, softening the stone hearths that dot the village like small islands of warmth. Smoke curls up from a handful of these pits, the scent of burning wood thick and earthy.

To my amazement, I spot two dragons, simply resting in haddocks, while people go around them, like they are no more interesting than sheep.

People move through the village, their clothes as archaic as their surroundings. The men wear fur-lined tunics and cloaks, some with armguards and wide belts, their trousers tucked into rugged boots. A few of them have braided beards or decorated hair, the edges of their tunics and cloaks embroidered with more of those complex, swirling patterns. The women, tall and strong, wear long woolen dresses covered by layers of fur wraps, with leather cords strung with bones and stones hanging around their necks. Their hair is braided and fastened with pins carved from bone or wood, some dyed with faint hues of red and blue.

Children dart around the village, laughing as they chase each other, their shrieks mingling with the sounds of livestock. A few sheep and goats wander freely, their thick coats making them look like mobile tufts of cloud. There's an almost enchanting simplicity to the scene, and yet, the place thrums with magic. I feel it humming in the ground beneath my feet, vibrating in the air itself -a thick, ancient power that clings to the stones and trees.

Ancient Magic as it had been in the game I'd once played, had been something not quite explained. Feeling the thrum of what I suspect is that same Ancient Magic here… I suspect it's so much more than what Hogwarts Legacy had shown.

"Welcome to Sköld," Professor Flamel says quietly, with a certain reverence, his gaze sweeping across the villagers with a smile. He strokes his beard slowly as he peers around. "One of the last villages still left over from ancient times, responsible for shielding us frail mortals from the dangers that surround us. And a place steeped in divination ever since the Norns passed into myth and the village separated from the rest of what would become Sweden long, long ago."

A sudden shout cuts through my thoughts, startling me. A woman - gray-haired and dressed in furs and bones - marches toward us, her eyes fixed on Professor Flamel with a fierce glare. She's tall, with the bearing of someone used to command, and somehow, despite the lines on her face and the gray in her hair, there's a beauty to her that's hard to ignore. She looks every bit like someone who might have led this village in its prime, and still has the final say in her elder years.

Her voice is sharp, laced with a language that feels thick and old, as ancient as the stones around us. It sounds sort of like Swedish I think, but not quite - the cadence and many of the words are different from what I've heard before, not that I'm an expert. Her tone alone makes it clear that whatever she's saying, it's nothing complimentary.

"Friend of yours?" I murmur to Professor Flamel as she pauses to catch her breath, her intense eyes still drilling into him.

"Very good friend of Perenelle's, actually," He replies with a smirk. "She's tried to steal my wife numerous times now." He says it as casually as if he's talking about the weather, clearly amused.

I shoot him a skeptical look, trying to reconcile the concept with the glaring woman who's now switched her focus to me. "Steal your wife?"

"That's how they did it back then, and still do here," He explains, still watching her with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. "You 'steal' your spouse, and if you manage to keep them for a day and night, they're yours."

I raise an eyebrow, half-impressed, half-dubious, but his gaze is serious. "Right," I mutter. "Good to know."

The woman's gaze narrows further, and she says something sharp in that same old-Swedish tone, clearly directed at me this time. I can't understand a word of it, but I'd bet my wand that it's an insult.

"Uh, I'm not with him," I say quickly, instinctively holding up my hands as if to ward off any blame by association. Her stare doesn't soften in the slightest, and I can feel her eyes practically drilling into my skull. Fantastic. I'm caught up in some ancient marital feud, and I don't even speak the language.

She mutters something else, but her expression says it all. Whatever she's thinking, it's clearly some kind of condemnation.

"I only wanted to speak about Gaunt. Why do you do this to me, Professor?" I say with a weary sigh.

"Oh, be quiet lad. You know you love it." He scoffs.

As women and men both start to approach, hefting some dangerous looking weapons drawn from ancient history, I really can say with full honesty… I don't… Merlin dammit… Yes, I love it, it's like history coming to life before me…

I'm not going to tell him that though.

By the amused look on his face, he can tell anyway.

----------------------------------------

Many hours later,

I blink, and suddenly I'm trudging up the road toward the Tonkses' house. It's as though I've been yanked forward in time, my last memory still of the Viking village tucked deep in Sweden. The sudden change is jarring. I snap my head around, and there's Professor Flamel, walking along beside me as if everything is perfectly ordinary.

"If you just bloody well obliviated me..." I start, glaring at him. There's a sinking suspicion rising in my stomach, something telling me that whatever happened back there in Sköld - it was important.

Flamel's eyes twinkle with a suppressed smile as he pulls a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and hands it to me. I snatch it from his hand, shooting him a wary look as I open it. It's my handwriting scrawled across the page. Skeptically, I read it over, my own words confirming, I probably think I've been obliviated, hence why I've written this message to myself. My mind is fine, and I agreed to this. The message ends with a codeword that only I'd know, something that reassures me, despite the frustration simmering below the surface.

I let out an irritated sound. "What the bloody hell did I agree to this time?"

"Eventually, you'll understand," He says smoothly, that annoyingly knowing smirk spreading across his face. "There is such a thing as knowing too much too soon. Some knowledge is dangerous, lad."

My mind races as I try to piece together what little I remember. The village, Sköld. There had been the smell of smoke, people in old fur-lined clothes, something about the Norns… And then nothing. My last real memory is a sense of foreboding - like something watching me from the depths of the very earth. I shake my head, frustrated, as Professor Flamel just watches me, entirely too amused.

"So, why take me there if you were going to erase it all anyway?" I grumble, eyeing him. "Or was that the plan all along, to show me answers I wouldn't get to keep?"

At least I seem to remember something about Gaunt, that discussion I've been allowed to keep. Even if it's the irritating knowledge that Dumbledore is attempting diplomacy with the man… And I've been asked kindly, to butt out.

Flamel chuckles, patting my shoulder as if he's genuinely fond of my confusion. "Not erased," He says. "Hidden. I took you somewhere safe so that you could plunge deep into the waters of fate. Some things, Lucas, are too heavy to carry all at once. They stay with you, deep in your bones, until you're ready to see them again."

"That's not even remotely helpful," I grumble.

Flamel's smile widens, but he doesn't respond further, and I can practically feel him brimming with all the answers he's refusing to give me.

Then Cassiopeia's voice cuts through my thoughts like a sharp knife. So, diving into the Norns' waters, are we? Her voice is coldly amused, drifting through my mind like a half-forgotten melody. Do you have a death wish?

I grit my teeth, focusing inward. Wait, I think back at her, hopeful. You were there in my head when I was in Sköld then, weren't you? You can remember what I saw, what I learned?

Of course. She replies, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. The children of the Norns cannot hide from me.

Then tell me, I think, trying to press the demand into my tone.

I get nothing. Silence.

I sigh, feeling the creeping inevitability of her game.

Will you tell me? I mentally grind out. Please?

She laughs, the sound low and sinister, tinged with a cruel sense of pleasure. No, she says, dragging the word out, savoring the frustration it causes. I think it will be more interesting to see how you handle this… In time.

Before I can gather any further argument, she's gone, leaving a hollow echo in her place. I'm left with the same mess of memories, piecing them together as best I can and coming up with nothing coherent.

"So," Professor Flamel finally says as he glances back up the Tonkses' driveway. "I believe this is your stop, lad. And do try not to go looking for any trouble - or for any other answers about Marvolo Gaunt."

My irritation spikes at that. "So, I got answers, then agreed to forget them, and now you're telling me not to look into the one thing that made me seek them out in the first place? Sounds like a flawless plan, Professor."

"Lest you forget. You are twelve lad, let us deal with this." With that, he waves me off, his amused expression barely faltering.

Annoyed but unwilling to let him see it, I give him a short nod and turn back toward the house, but my mind is churning with questions. Flamel's warning about Marvolo Gaunt was clear, but it also leaves me little choice: if I can't directly divine Gaunt, I'll just have to work around him. There's always a way through, a back door, another angle to find what I need.

I refuse to allow myself to be entirely unprepared in case Dumbledore fumbles this. Which he will.

So I can't divine him… I can divine his allies, his plots in the ministry, his surroundings.

I'm not without means.

I'll cooperate, for now. As I've promised. But neither am I going to trust everything to them and back off. I'll share what I find…

I don't want a repeat of the first year…

No one else needs to die because of me.

----------------------------------------

The day I'm supposed to leave for Hogwarts sneaks up on me. The last night in my own bed felt restless - like I was caught between looking forward to the year ahead and feeling a tug that made me reluctant to leave this house. It's been strange and different to live with the Tonkses this summer, but in all the best ways. Now, with my trunk packed and propped against the wall, the reality that I'm actually going back has fully hit me.

I'm barely down the stairs when Tonks, who must've heard my footsteps, bounds in from the kitchen, hair shifting between a warm chestnut brown and a stormy grey, mirroring her moods. She's trying to hide it, but there's this glint of sadness under her usual energy.

"You ready, baby Raven?" She asks, folding her arms but letting her hair go back to a slightly brighter shade. "Got all your books, your quills, your way-too-many cauldrons?"

"Yeah, everything's packed, including my entire library," I reply with a smirk. "And you'd better not have slipped anything embarrassing in there. I wouldn't put it past you."

It would be just like her to ensure I get in trouble on day one.

She huffs, a hand dramatically pressed to her chest. "Lucas, I am shocked! Do you think I'd do something like that?"

"Absolutely," I say, raising an eyebrow. "It wouldn't surprise me to find something embarrassing or slightly illegal amongst my things, or Merlin forbid, both."

She laughs, and the sound fills the room, easing some of the tension. "What? Just adding a bit of character to your collection of dusty old tomes," She teases.

I roll my eyes but can't help smiling back. "Merlin help me if I open my trunk and there's anything remotely embarrassing in it, Tonks."

Tonks tries to keep her expression neutral, but her lips twitch. She catches my arm and tugs me into a side hug. "Look at you, heading off to school again. It's going to be so boring around here without you grumbling over every little chore."

I give her a dry look,"I think you're forgetting who does the grumbling about chores in this house, Tonks…"

"I'll miss having someone to pester." She sighs forlornly, "Besides, who's going to keep me on my toes now?"

There's something in her voice, an edge of something real she's trying to cover up with humor. Her grip on my arm tightens just a little, and I look over at her, studying the way her face has softened.

"You know I'll write, right? And I'll be in constant mental contact whenever you want to talk" I say, quieter now. "I'll keep you updated on all the classes, the pranks, even the ridiculous things Snape's bound to say."

Tonks snorts, finally letting go of my arm to ruffle my hair. "You better, or I'll come to Hogwarts myself and drag you home." She attempts a lighthearted tone, but the slight waver betrays her. It's obvious she doesn't want to let me go.

Ted enters from the kitchen with a cheery grin, saving me from any more of Tonks' attempts at humor. "Hey, look at this. My two favorite troublemakers are finally up. Got time for breakfast even before the rush."

I nod, following him into the kitchen where Andromeda is already setting out plates. She greets me with a warm smile and a squeeze of my shoulder as I pass.

"We're going to miss having you around, Lucas," She says. "The house just won't be the same."

"Oh, come on, you guys are being overly sentimental," I say, trying to keep my own voice steady. "It's just school, I'll be back soon." I could have never expected feeling almost regret at returning to Hogwarts.

"Don't listen to him, Mum," Tonks chimes in, shooting me a knowing smirk. "He's a big softie under all that sarcasm. Probably crying on the inside."

"Right," I drawl, rolling my eyes as I reach for the toast. "Just crying waterfalls over here." I give Tonks a dirty look, knowing she's using her powers for evil, picking up on my trepidation.

Ted laughs as he hands me the butter for my toast. "Now, remember, Lucas, no blowing up any classrooms this year, now that Tonks has graduated, we expect a year without a dozen owls over improper behavior."

I can't resist a grin. "Can't make any promises, but I'll try."

"You've got a knack for getting yourself into the thick of things," Andromeda says, giving me a motherly look. "Just remember, you've got people here who are ready to help if you need it."

I nod, feeling the warmth of her gaze settle over me. "I know. Thanks. And I'll be careful."

We eat together, the room filled with easy conversation and gentle laughter, even though there's an undercurrent of bittersweetness to it. Ted is full of tips, from how to brew the perfect hangover cure (getting glared at by Andromeda the entire time) to his 'method' for staying out of Peeves' line of fire. Andromeda, always the steady voice of reason, talks to me about focusing on my studies but not letting stress get the best of me.

"You're going to do brilliantly," She says, catching my eye as she refills my glass of juice. "But if you ever need us to come over, just say the word."

I nod, unable to find the words to respond, feeling a surprising weight on my chest as I glance around at them. This place, these people - they've become home in a way I hadn't realized until this moment. It's strange, how deeply it tugs at me, the thought of leaving it all behind, even if it's just for a school year.

When breakfast wraps up, we head into the living room where my trunk waits. Tonks is already there, fiddling with the handle, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Tonks…" I start, but she waves me off, her usual smirk faltering.

"Oh, don't start getting all mushy on me," She mutters, but she pulls me in for a bone-crushing hug anyway, her face pressed against the top of my head.

I hug her back tightly, feeling that mix of embarrassment and warmth bubble up. It feels ridiculous, we'll literally be a thought away, but at the same time, I can't bring myself to let go just yet.

Finally, she pulls back, ruffling my hair one last time. "You be good, okay? And don't let the other kids know what a swot you really are. Keep up that cool, mysterious vibe."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Noted, I'll keep my inner nerd hidden."

Andromeda steps forward, a soft look on her face as she opens her arms. "One more hug for the road?"

"Of course." I step into her embrace, and she wraps her arms around me, her hold gentle but firm. "Thank you, for everything."

"Thank you for being part of our family," She whispers, her voice barely above a breath. And in that moment, I know she means it.

When she finally lets go, Ted steps in, slinging an arm around my shoulder and giving me a light squeeze. "Take care of yourself, Lucas. And don't forget - if you run into trouble, just imagine my voice in your head telling you to get out of it."

I laugh, a genuine, full-bellied laugh that surprises even me. "I'll keep that in mind, Ted."

There's a brief silence as I look around, soaking in the room, the faces, the warmth of it all. It's not like I won't be back, but it feels like a goodbye all the same.

And then Tonks breaks it, nudging me with her elbow. "Now go on, before I decide to nick your ticket and keep you here."

"Wouldn't put it past you," I say, chuckling. But as I pick up my trunk, the heaviness settles back in, this time mingling with an odd excitement, like the anticipation of a new chapter.

I had asked them to say their goodbyes at home, because I didn't think I could handle doing it in public by the express, I glance at the fireplace, it's almost time…

"See you all soon," I say, trying to sound light, but the words come out heavier than I mean them to.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Tonks calls out with a grin, though her eyes shine with something softer.

"That leaves me with plenty of options," I retort, smirking, but my voice wavers slightly.

She gives me a mock glare, then opens her arms, beckoning again. "One last hug, for good measure."

Rolling my eyes, I step in, and she squeezes me so tightly it's like she's trying to fuse my bones together. She's warm and familiar, and I know I'll miss this more than I'm willing to admit.

Finally, I pull back, and with one last wave to Andromeda and Ted, I turn on my heel and with a pinch of floo powder, I disappear towards the Hogwarts Express, leaving my family behind.

----------------------------------------

The Hogwarts Express hums with its familiar energy, an undercurrent of excitement mingling with the clatter of suitcases and the cheerful shouts of friends reuniting. As I settle into a compartment with a few familiar faces, a sense of belonging washes over me, and I feel a wide grin spreading across my face. Neville is already here, smiling as he tries to wrestle his enormous trunk onto the luggage rack. Susan and Hannah trail in next, giggling as they drag their own luggage behind them, and soon after, Padma and Su slip through the compartment door, bringing that effortless Ravenclaw calm along with them.

"All set for another year?" I ask, grinning as I help Neville hoist his trunk into place.

"I guess," He mutters, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Honestly, though, I could do without all the 'excitement' we had last year."

"Same here," Susan chimes in, flopping down next to Hannah. "Let's keep things low-key this year, yeah?"

"Right," I laugh, "Because Hogwarts is famous for being low-key. Look who's supposed to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year - Scrimgeour! I'm betting he'll run a grueling dueling club, and if he does…" I raise my eyebrows, trailing off to let them imagine the chaos of house competitiveness blaring up again.

Padma leans forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Scrimgeour's actually teaching? Are you sure it's not some bizarre rumor?"

"Nope, confirmed," I say, nudging Neville to sit as I settle across from him. "He gave me this whole talk over the summer about 'not getting into trouble.' You know, the classic 'don't blow up anything' speech."

Neville lets out a snort. "Because that's exactly what you'd do."

"Who, me?" I feign innocence, pressing a hand to my chest. "I'm as well-behaved as they come."

Susan raises an eyebrow, barely holding back her laughter. "Sure, Lucas. Remind me, who nearly melted an entire cauldron of Elixir to Induce Euphoria in Potions last term?"

"Or," Padma interjects, "Who somehow set off a whole string of firecrackers during breakfast?"

"Look, I maintain that the firecrackers were clearly Peeves' work." I spread my hands out, trying to look as innocent as possible, which only makes everyone laugh harder. "The cauldron, well… Yeah, that one was probably on me."

At least they're only bringing up the harmless things I was involved in… And not the horrible ones.

Su, who's been quiet so far, chimes in with a t teasing smile. "Don't worry, Lucas, I'm sure Scrimgeour will have his eye on you now. He'll be thrilled to have a protege."

Hannah lets out a groan, but there's a smile tugging at her lips. "I'm not sure how I feel about dueling with him in charge. A former Head Auror… That's going to be intense."

"Oh, Merlin," Neville mutters, shaking his head. "The dueling club's only going to get more insane, just in time for us to join... Scrimgeour's probably itching to teach us all how to cast, like, anti-Death Eater curses."

I shrug, leaning back with my hands behind my head. "Hey, maybe that'll be a good thing. At least it'll be practical. None of that 'vague theory' stuff."

"True," Padma says, crossing her legs and settling in. "Maybe we'll finally learn some spells that would be actually useful in a real duel."

"Like what?" Susan asks, propping her chin in her hand.

"More hexes, for one," Padma replies, her eyes twinkling. "I'm done with the jinxes and disarming spells. If someone's attacking me, I want them on the floor, not just disarmed."

"Hey, lessons with me are always open." I point out. Harry and co had made use of it, although technically Tonks had spent more time being the teacher.

"Not sure we want to learn what you can teach." Padma says dryly.

"Not very Ravenclaw to say." Su says, scoring a point of Padma, who flashes her a quick smile and

Neville, still looking hesitant, chimes in, "I'm all for learning more spells, but Scrimgeour's a bit…Intense. I heard he once took down three dark wizards at once with just one household spell!"

Su shrugs. "Then maybe we'll learn to cast like that too. Honestly, that might be the most useful thing."

"Ugh, can you imagine what the Slytherins will say if we have to start learning household spells in DADA?" I groan, thinking of all the whining that would entail. "That sounds exhausting. You know how hard it is just to focus on class without hexing annoying people?"

"Please," Hannah teases, "You focus on trouble itself, half the time."

"Hey now," I retort, "I'd like to think my focus is highly flexible. I can go from one thing to another in a snap!"

Hannah rolls her eyes. "That's just another way of saying you're easily distracted, Lucas."

"Oh, let the boy have his excuses," Susan says with a grin. "It's his first day back; he's going to need all the focus he can get to stay out of trouble."

It's sadly true, the first year certainly showed my penchant for getting in trouble…

Neville grimaces. "Yeah, and it's only a matter of time before something worse happens - like Snape giving us one of those double-length Potions lectures."

Everyone groans collectively, the energy in the compartment dropping at the mere thought of Snape. None of us are immune to the man's rather… Unique teaching style, or his talent for making Potions the most agonizing class of the week.

He's not as bad as Canon, in many ways. But he certainly doesn't make potions class pleasant either.

"Seriously, what's his problem?" Padma sighs, crossing her arms. "Every time I think he can't get more unbearable, he surprises me."

"He does seem to have a personal vendetta against happiness," Su admits quietly. "If I go into Potions in a good mood, he singles me out on purpose."

"Probably does," I say with a smirk. "Anything to keep us all miserable."

Padma sighs. "Maybe it's some kind of test. Like he thinks if he makes us all suffer, we'll become potions masters by sheer spite."

"Or," I suggest, "He's just that grumpy because he has no life, or because he's doing a job he obviously hates."

"Don't give him excuses, Lucas," Susan says, wagging a finger at me. "If anyone's responsible for his bad mood, it's definitely himself."

We lapse into a moment of comfortable silence as the train rumbles on. I glance out the window, watching the countryside fly past, thinking about the year ahead. It's easy to joke about Snape and dueling clubs and spells we might learn, but there's this sense of weight, too. Like we all know this year is going to be… something different.

Different good, I hope.

"Hey," Neville says, breaking the silence. "Anyone thinking of joining any new clubs this year? I heard they're restarting the Magical Creatures Club."

Hannah perks up. "Really? I might join! I mean, I'm terrible with anything that has too many legs, but it might be fun."

"You and your eight-legged terror," Susan teases, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Aren't you the one who practically jumped out a window when we saw that giant spider in Herbology last term?"

Hannah shivers at the memory. "I think I'll just… Avoid anything with too many legs, thanks."

Padma's eyes light up. "I'm definitely joining. I've always wanted to learn more about magical creatures - imagine studying something as rare as a hippogriff."

Su nods in agreement, looking just as intrigued. "Maybe we'll get lucky and have some actual creatures to work with."

"Some of us should be getting invites soon too, I wager." I say thoughtfully.

Padma raises an eyebrow, "Oh I had almost forgotten… The Hippogriff, the Dragon and the Sphinx club…"

The secret societies at Hogwarts, for a given value of secret when everyone knew about their existence. I know with my fame and scholastic achievements, I am likely to get an invite no matter what.

Neville shakes his head, "I'm definitely not getting an invite."

Susan slaps him lightly, "Don't talk down to yourself, we're definitely all getting an invite." She says determinedly.

Neville leans back, shaking his head. "I think I'll stick with the Herbology club.'

Padma smiles kindly. "Well, at least you have a knack for Herbology, Neville. I'd kill to have your talent for plants."

Neville flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks. I suppose it's not all that impressive next to your skills."

"Are you kidding?" Su says. "Plants are amazing, and a lot of magic draws from them. Don't sell yourself short, Neville."

Neville's face turns a deeper shade of pink, but he manages a small, grateful smile. "I appreciate it. Let's just hope I don't make too much of a fool out of myself this year."

"Impossible," Padma says, waving a hand dismissively. "You'll be fantastic."

"We'll all be fantastic, it's going to be a great year!" Susan says, giving us all a hard look, like daring us to disagree.

Hannah nods thoughtfully. "Still, I'd like a straightforward year this time. Just give me classes, clubs, maybe a little dueling, and call it a day."

"You really think that's likely?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, with the Defense teacher being Scrimgeour and Dumbledore as headmaster? Hogwarts doesn't do 'straightforward'."

Padma smirks, nodding in agreement. "Honestly, you're right. We might as well embrace the chaos at this point."

Susan suddenly grins, looking over at me. "Speaking of chaos, Lucas, you didn't tell us what you got up to over the last bit of summer. Any wild adventures?"

I hesitate, caught off guard. The things I've seen this summer aren't exactly light, easy stories to share. Images of Knockturn Alley, blood magic, and secret enclaves in foreign countries flash through my mind, but I push them aside, forcing a smile instead. "Oh, you know, just family stuff. Some… Interesting lessons, too."

"Interesting lessons?" Hannah echoes, her curiosity clearly piqued.

"Yep," I say, leaning back with an air of mystery. "I picked up a few tricks here and there. You'll just have to wait and see."

Padma gives me a curious look, her eyes sharp. "All right, Mr. Secretive. But we'll all hold you to that."

Neville glances at me with a small frown. "Just be careful, yeah? I mean, we've all seen how… intense things can get. Don't want to see you in the middle of any more trouble."

I nod, appreciating his concern. "Don't worry, Nev. I'm planning to keep my head down this year. As much as Hogwarts will let me, anyway."

"Good luck with that," Su mutters, "Keeping your head down at Hogwarts is like trying to stay dry in the lake."

Laughter spreads through the compartment, and I can't help but join in, feeling the warmth of friendship and shared anticipation for what lies ahead. Sure, things might get complicated. There might be challenges, unexpected turns, maybe even dangers. But right now, in this little space filled with laughter and teasing, it feels like we can handle anything.

----------------------------------------

The Great Hall looks like it always does on a feast day - candles float, soft globes of light illuminating rows of students under the enchanted ceiling, currently a wash of darkening twilight. The tables are piled with golden goblets, plates, and pitchers, all gleaming and untouched, waiting for the feast to begin. There's a hum of energy in the air, like the entire school is buzzing to life after a summer of dormancy.

Settling into a spot at the Hufflepuff table, I take in the sight around me. Students filter in, filling seats and craning their necks to catch a glimpse of friends across the other tables. The returning students look older somehow, each carrying a little more self-assurance - or maybe it's just that we've all grown a little after everything last year threw at us. It's impossible to miss the Gryffindor table and the shift in the mood there. The Weasleys - minus Percy and Ron - are back at Hogwarts. Fred and George, usually the loudest in any crowd, are unnervingly quiet. They sit side-by-side with their heads down, their usual spark muted.

Ginny is here as well, standing with the younger students who are all lined up at the entrance doors, waiting for the Sorting Hat's song to wrap up. The twins stare forward, eyes unfocused, while people around them whisper and try not to stare too obviously. Fred and George have this aura of emptiness that makes the lively hall around them seem like background noise. It's strange seeing them like this, subdued, shoulders hunched like they're carrying more weight than they should be.

I look away, feeling a gnawing sense of guilt. What they've been through since last year is beyond unfair. I hadn't thought much about their family over the summer, not since I'd dealt with Pettigrew. But now, seeing them like this, I feel I should've done more, somehow. Maybe if I'd worked harder to learn something useful about their situation… But that's a useless train of thought.

There's a murmur that grows louder as another name gets called, and I perk up as I hear, "Lovegood, Luna."

Luna, looking serene in a way that contrasts sharply with the nervous first years around her, steps forward. Her wide, dreamy gaze takes in the hall, clearly seeing something beyond all of us. Luna's placement is...Unexpected. I'm ready to see her float her way over to the Ravenclaw table when the Sorting Hat takes a long pause, and then declares, "Gryffindor!"

Luna's wide, curious eyes blink once, a little surprised, before she smiles and ambles her way over to the Gryffindor table. She gives Ginny a cheerful wave, and I watch as Fred and George scoot to make room for her and at the center of the table, none too gently removing the students nearby, making room for her, and for their sister.

Ginny is sorted last, and the hat barely touches her before shouting out her place in Gryffindor.

Ginny, I note, looks nervous, and even from here, I can tell her eyes are searching around the Gryffindor table, landing finally on the twins, who pull her into a close, protective huddle. Luna, meanwhile, looks perfectly at ease, her gaze floating around the hall, taking in everything with her usual distracted intensity. It's an odd pairing, Luna and Gryffindor, but there's a strange rightness to it, too. Maybe she'll surprise everyone, or maybe she's exactly where she's meant to be, helping Ginny find her way in this new environment.

With how things changed… The two were likely much closer, I suspect. As good a reason as any for the change in houses.

The sorting finishes, and Dumbledore stands, his long white beard gleaming in the flickering light as he spreads his arms. The hall falls into silence almost immediately, every eye on him as he waits, letting the stillness deepen.

"Welcome, one and all, to another year at Hogwarts!" His voice is warm, rolling over the students like a comforting blanket.

"It is my pleasure to introduce you to two new professors who have kindly agreed to join us this year," He continues, ignoring the whispers as the uninformed students were caught up by those who'd paid attention to the staff table, or the news over the summer.

"First, may I present to you Professor Rufus Scrimgeour, who will be taking on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Dumbledore gestures toward the high table, where a tall, leonine man with a thick mane of tawny hair and an intimidating demeanor rises to his feet, looking out over the hall with a fierce glint in his eye.

The hall erupts into applause, though it's mixed with whispers of excitement and some apprehension. The man's reputation is no secret - Scrimgeour was an Auror, and a Head Auror to boot, one of the best, and now he's our teacher. I catch a few worried glances from my classmates, specifically at the Slytherin table.

Then Dumbledore raises a hand, waiting for the applause to quiet again before he continues, a slight, knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Our second addition this year requires no introduction, but I shall do my best to provide one anyway. Please welcome Professor Nicolas Flamel, our new Transfiguration professor."

If the previous applause was loud, this one nearly shakes the walls. The excitement is palpable, students craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the world-famous alchemist who now stands and gives a polite bow, a faint, amused smile on his face. Whispers break out in every corner, students talking about the Philosopher's Stone, theories of immortality, and endless gold. I feel a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. Professor Flamel's going to be pestered with questions from every overeager witch and wizard hoping to unearth his secrets.

"Great," I mutter, nudging Hannah beside me. "How long do you think it'll be before people start asking him about eternal life?"

She rolls her eyes. "Probably as soon as they get a chance. We'll be lucky if we get through his first lesson without someone asking about gold."

I chuckle, imagining the look of exasperation that'll no doubt be crossing his face soon enough. Knowing Professor Flamel, he'll find a numerous way to deal with it that will likely send many students on a wild goose chase.

I mean literally. It wouldn't surprise me if he made them chase wild geese…

Finally, Dumbledore raises his hands once more. "Let us feast!" He declares, and with a wave, the tables are suddenly laden with dishes of every kind imaginable.

My friends and I dive in, filling our plates as laughter and conversation bubble up around us. It's a little surreal, sitting here, seeing everyone talking and laughing so easily, as though last year's troubles are ancient history.

As I glance over at the Gryffindor table, I see Ginny and Luna talking animatedly, with Fred and George listening in, smiles slowly starting to reappear on their faces as they laugh at something Ginny says. It's a small but genuine spark, a flicker of the twins I remember.

The energy in the hall is shifting. It's subtle, like the edges of a shadow shrinking as dawn approaches, but seeing the twins smiling - really smiling, even if only briefly - is more heartening than I expected. The laughter at the Gryffindor table swells as Luna says something, and Ginny laughs, her face flushed. Fred and George exchange a glance, a spark of their usual mischief glinting in their eyes, and I realize they're listening to her and Luna with genuine focus.

My gaze shifts back to my friends, who are all talking animatedly around me. Including some who aren't my friends, as Zacharias leans over, his plate piled high, asking Susan and Hannah about clubs. "Are you signing up for Dueling Club then this year? With Scrimgeour leading it... Imagine the kind of duels he'll throw at us!"

Susan rolls her eyes, grinning. "So what you're saying is you're excited about the idea of signing up to get pummeled by an Auror all year?"

I look at Zacharias, debating restarting the prank of first year, before deciding to focus on my meal. I'll give the kid a break this time.

"You think Flamel will help with the dueling club?" Hanna chimes in, helping herself to another roll. "He's practically invented half the spells in our Transfiguration textbooks."

I raise an eyebrow. "Maybe, but he'd probably let Scrimgeour run the show. I doubt he wants to encourage any duels for 'eternal glory,' or whatever people will start thinking they'll earn with him around."

Susan nods with a grin. "Or they'll challenge him directly, thinking they'll get pointers on 'immortality magic.' I mean, can you imagine? Poor Flamel."

We all laugh, picturing it. I can practically see Professor Flamel's exasperated face as he inevitably fields the endless stream of questions from hopeful students looking for the secret to eternal life. I'll be hearing all about it at our next lesson, no doubt.

The food is incredible, as always - roast beef with gravy, Yorkshire puddings, buttery mashed potatoes, and every vegetable you could think of, all perfectly done. I catch the scent of the treacle tart from a few tables down and make a mental note to save room for it. The chatter picks up again, a steady hum of voices, laughter, and clinking silverware. It feels like home, this steady rhythm and tradition of a Hogwarts feast, and a sense of calm starts settling over me.

"Speaking of clubs," Susan says, lowering her voice slightly as she looks around, "Have any of you thought about joining something… different this year?"

"Different how?" I ask, curious.

"Well," She leans in, looking a little mischievous, "What about something like Music Club? I heard they might be getting access to actual hymn magic, although it's just a rumor."

I raise my eyebrows. "You're considering Music? I thought for sure you were a lock for the dueling club."

"Oh, I am," She assures, "but with everything we found last year… I think there might be something there. And besides, Professor Haywood hinted that there's a connection between certain Runes and hymn magic in one of her history lectures last year." She smirks. "Might give us an advantage in Dueling, too."

"I'll join if you do," I say, grinning. "Couldn't hurt to pick up something new. And hey, if Scrimgeour is as rough as we think, we'll need all the help we can get."

Hannah nods eagerly. "I'd sign up for that. And I want to join the Magical Creatures Club, too."

Neville has a firm look on his face as he makes it absolutely clear, "I am not joining a music club. Me singing? Imagine that."

We're all laughing and talking about the best clubs when the desserts appear, filling the tables in a colorful wave of puddings, pies, cakes, and tarts. I barely wait a beat before I'm grabbing a slice of treacle tart, while Neville claims a piece of pumpkin pie.

"You know," Hanna says between bites of a berry trifle, "I don't know what to expect from this year, but it feels... Good to be here, doesn't it? Like things are finally back to normal."

We fall quiet for a moment, each of us reflecting on her words. There's a silent agreement that yes, it does feel that way - at least for now, my cynical mind supplies.

"Normal is good," I murmur. "And with Dumbledore watching things and Flamel and Scrimgeour here, I think we're in good hands."

Our conversation shifts as the last of the desserts start to disappear, and Dumbledore rises to his feet, commanding the room's attention. "It is, as always, a joy to see you all here," He says, his voice carrying easily over the hall. "I trust you all will find this year filled with curiosity, courage, and, of course, camaraderie."

With a few final instructions - reminders about curfews, patrols, and the usual warnings about the Forbidden Forest - Dumbledore finishes, and there's a sense of finality that settles over us. Chairs scrape, and people begin rising from the tables, a mix of yawns and laughter echoing as prefects start guiding the first years to their dormitories.

I linger, watching as the twins stand waiting for Luna and Ginny, escorting them with the prefects. It's odd, seeing them huddled together so protectively, but it's heartening too. The two Weasleys seem determined to shield their little sister and her friend, an unspoken vow that's visible in the way they stay close, watchful.

As we file out of the hall, my friends and I stick close, exchanging quiet comments and glances at the new professors. Neville yawns widely, and Hannah laughs, giving him a playful nudge as we approach the staircase.

"I think we're all going to need rest before we even think about Scrimgeour's first class tomorrow," I say, smiling at their faces. "You ready for it?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Susan says wryly, "Here's to another year! Hufflepuff will win the house cup for sure!"

With that, we head off, the noise of the hall fading behind us, the cool stone corridors leading us up toward our common room and into the new year ahead.

This year, I will finally plunge through the ancient mysteries of Hogwarts.

No more Death Eaters and monsters.

Just Ancient Magic.

As it should be.

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