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The Great Hall buzzes with the lively energy of students starting their day. The enchanted ceiling reflects a bright, sunny morning, its blue expanse dotted with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily overhead. I sit at the Hufflepuff table, surrounded by friends and the clatter of breakfast in full swing.

This early in the morning I can stand to feel hopeful and optimistic, at least for this small amount of time it's just good food and friends.

The worries of the world don't exist until after breakfast, that is a resolution I've decided on. Something to introduce some stability and sanity in my daily routine.

I know it won't always work, but for today at least I'm feeling moderately relaxed, and hungry.

One thing Hogwarts never fails at - is in providing food.

The table is a mosaic of breakfast delights with golden-brown toast stacked high, pitchers of pumpkin juice (bleh) strategically placed within easy reach. Of course it can't be breakfast without the platters of crispy bacon and sausages sizzling invitingly, stacked high and always quickly gone through. Bowls of porridge sit alongside fresh fruits and pastries, everything within reach for a hearty start to the day.

A hearty British start to the day anyway. If not for magic, the amount of bread, pork and sugar imbibed in a regular day at Hogwarts - would give us all coronaries.

Thankfully, the house elves still substitute pumpkin juice for plain water or a cup of tea for myself, I still don't know how anyone can drink that swill. Also thankfully, someone - likely Dumbledore - had reversed the order Pettigrew had imperiused an elf to give to its brethren - the order that I was to receive no assistance from Hogwarts house elves.

No one had ever called on me to explain that, which made me suspect Dumbledore. The only one I was sure would be just fine watching from a distance instead of interrogating me on why exactly an elf said something like that to its fellows - and then disappeared forever - would be Dumbledore.

Then again, it could be paranoia, and the elves themselves realized it upon the death of their fellow, or Hogwarts has magic on its own and intervened. Magic is wonderful, don't get me wrong - but the fact literally anything is possible makes it really difficult when you're a paranoid bastard. I can really empathize with Mad-eye Moody…

That bird flying by literally could be a nuke. Magic is bullshit like that. I'm surprised he was even able to be around people.

I reach for a piece of toast and an apple, definitely not up for that heavy of a breakfast, grinning cheekily at Neville meanwhile, who's busy trying to pour all the syrup over his waffles without making a mess. "Careful, Neville, you might drown in those waffles soon," I tease good-naturedly.

It's supposed to be a good calm breakfast time, so I let my worries slip away, focusing on my friends. They've stood by me even when I've been grumpy, sleep deprived, and full of nightmares and spite.

I have good friends. I'm maybe not the best one myself though…

Neville blushes, his concentration slipping as syrup drips over the edge of the plate. "It's harder than it looks!" he protests, though he's smiling too, not flustered too much by the gentle teasing.

It actually isn't as easy as you'd think, first years don't have the hand strength to juggle syrup dispensers the size of an adult human's head easily…

Hogwarts breakfast goes big on everything. It's like the elves were trained at an American muggle diner or something.

Susan, seated across from me, giggles. "Maybe you should stick to simpler things, Neville. Like buttering toast. Less dangerous." She quips, holding up her own piece of toast.

Hannah, next to Susan, adds, "Or just ask the waffles nicely not to make a mess. You never know, they might listen." She giggles as Neville actually contemplates it, his face scrunched up.

I shake my head, "Wouldn't be the weirdest thing, magic is like that." I say wryly, taking a bite out of my apple, chewing slowly, unable to resist teasing Neville just a tad more. "Although if you eat all that, you'll be more syrup than human, mate."

We all laugh, and Neville shakes his head, finally managing to get the syrup where it belongs. "Very funny, all of you. Just wait until you need help with Herbology." He snarks, before grabbing his wand, to fix the fact one whole sleeve of his robe is now stained with syrup.

I smirk, taking another bite of my apple. "Fair enough, Neville. I'll be sure to come to you when my mandrake starts throwing a tantrum." I reply, herbology is one of the subjects I care for the least, despite still enjoying most of it - it just isn't my focus.

As we continue to banter, the clinking of cutlery and hum of conversations create a warm, comforting atmosphere - a usual occurrence at the Hufflepuff table, that is markedly devoid of the Gryffindor versus Slytherin drama. The House banners hanging above us flutter gently, and the scent of breakfast mingles with the fresh morning air coming through the windows. It's moments like these that make Hogwarts feel like home.

I can almost forget about the darkness surrounding us, in this idyllic spot. Hence why breakfast is my choice for the time of day I just let myself be.

Our lighthearted conversation is interrupted by a sudden hush that falls over the Great Hall. I glance up to see Professor Dumbledore standing at the staff table, his presence commanding immediate attention. He raises a hand, and the room falls completely silent.

He might be halfway cracked at times, and make choices that I deeply disagree with, but no one can say he doesn't have a certain gravitas - or the capability to own a room with one gesture or word.

"Good morning, students," Dumbledore begins, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. "I have an important announcement to make."

I exchange curious looks with Neville, Susan, and Hannah. Dumbledore's announcements are rarely trivial.

Especially at this time of the year, with everything going on.

"Professor Sinistra has unfortunately fallen ill and will be on medical leave for the remainder of the term," Dumbledore continues. A murmur of concern ripples through the hall at the announcement, especially from the Ravenclaws. With myself? I feel only relief. Good, my anonymous note to the Aurors worked... "In her absence, I will be taking over the Astronomy classes. I trust that you will all continue your studies diligently and join me in wishing Professor Sinistra a swift recovery."

The announcement leaves me with a mix of relief and worry. Relief that Professor Sinistra will hopefully be taken care of, but worry for the consequences of her disappearing from Hogwarts for a time - what will the bastard that cursed her do? And I couldn't believe it was anyone but Quirrell. Would he make a move?

There goes my peaceful breakfast, my mind already on my divination assisted mice, to keep a track of Quirrell's movements. Would he accelerate his plans? Something I hadn't thought of until now. I'd been so concerned for Professor Sinistra, and for myself, considering what divination told me about her intentions - that I hadn't thought of what Quirrell would do with the possibility Sinistra would be healed and able to finger him as the culprit.

If it's Quirrell… That's still a big if…

It could be a mistake to always attribute everything to him.

Either way I need to keep a close eye on him. This might have accelerated everything in my rush to fix things and help one of my favorite professors.

I guess I keep finding myself more of a Hufflepuff again than I thought.

Loyalty is a blessing and a curse.

Neville leans in, whispering, "I hope she's okay. It's strange to think of Dumbledore teaching a regular class."

He seems excited, no doubt due to the fact the regulars of the magical world do not realize how dangerous Dumbledore actually is.

Susan nods, her expression serious. "Yeah, it's been ages since he taught anything for this long. This should be interesting."

Hannah's eyes widen slightly. "I just hope we don't have to do anything too advanced. Dumbledore's classes might be a bit over our heads." She tilts her head slightly after saying that, frowning minutely, "Then again it is Astronomy, it can't get too advanced, right?"

I keep my mouth shut, a lecture on all the brilliant things Astronomy can actually be used for is not what my friends want to hear right now.

I simply nod agreeingly, trying to shake off the unease settling in my stomach. "We'll just have to do our best and hope Professor Sinistra gets well soon." I murmur.

As Dumbledore finishes his announcement and breakfast resumes, the usual chatter gradually returns, though it's tinged with the undercurrent of the unexpected news. I turn back to my friends, determined to enjoy the rest of the meal despite the sudden shift in mood.

"Alright, back to important matters," I say, trying to lighten the atmosphere again. "Anyone taking bets on if Neville can finish that monstrosity on his plate?"

Neville grins, grateful for the distraction. "You bet against me and you'll lose." He says, demonstrably taking a large bite of his plate of syrup, even managing to get some waffle on there.

Susan and Hannah join in on the banter, and soon we're back to our usual small talk, though the shadow of Dumbledore's announcement lingers at the edge of my thoughts.

I meet Tonks' eyes, she can easily feel my thoughts racing and is watching me attentively.

Undercroft, after classes. I think at her, receiving a nod.

I have someone who can help, perhaps we can finally put an end to this constant struggle. I can know Professor Quirrell's movements hours in advance.

Can I get the Aurors on him somehow?

My expression firms up. I'll find a way.

I know the end of the year is a crapshoot, always is in this damn world. Why should I wait until then?

Follow his schedule? No. Let's not give him more time to prepare.

I don't want Professor Sinistra to suddenly choke to death from nothing at St. Mungos.

Even if I have to get the adults involved. We can do this now.

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After classes, that day.

The Undercroft is cool and dimly lit as we enter, safe in my own little hidden sanctuary where the walls themselves whisper secrets of ancient magic - or at least the portraits, heh.

Although getting it out of Ominis is like pulling teeth.

Tonks and I sit down in old, mismatched chairs, the silence between us filled with the weight of our current dilemma. There's no doubt about it, we are in a dangerous situation. Perhaps not directly aimed at us as of yet - but it's only a matter of time.

If Quirrell isn't an idiot, and I in no way believe he is, in fact he seems dangerously competent… So, he must know some of what I get up to, at least at minimum the dice. He hasn't had a chance to go through my mind and mind wipe me since I leaned heavily into the rituals, so he might be unaware there.

With Professor Sinistra off the board, Quirrell will no doubt suspect something. Dumbledore wouldn't have removed her. Dumbledore wouldn't have had the Aurors take care of the problem. The question was, will he suspect me?

I don't roll my dice often anymore due to my overuse of divination - there's a reason I cheated with my ritual regarding the mice - anything else would likely not work properly for me.

Before I met up with Tonks however, to get here to the Undercroft, I rolled them for the first time in a while.

The question was, does Quirrell know it was me behind the removal of Professor Sinistra - The answer…

Yes.

I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, stress evident in every line of my posture. "We need to do something about Quirrell, Tonks. I'm tired of waiting. He has my blood and Merlin knows how many others, and that can't be good. He also now knows I'm after him, I'm sure of it."

Well, mostly sure. The dice were low-key enough with yes and no answers, that I am almost positive they work without giving too many false positives due to my plucking of the string of fate and destiny one too many times.

Tonks leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a worried expression on her features. "I get that, Lucas. But rushing into this without a solid plan isn't exactly a great idea - we almost lost last time. Maybe we should consider getting help from the Professors this once." Even as she says it, she grimaces, not exactly full on faith in them either.

For all that they seem better than their canon counterparts, I can't trust them fully, and Tonks has her own reasons to feel the same way.

Normally she's the one arguing against it, not for it, just another tidbit to show how fucked this year is.

I snort, running a hand through my hair. "And tell them what? That Quirrell's possessed by Voldemort and is planning something awful? They'd never believe us without proof." Well, Dumbledore would, but the problem there is he already likely knows, and is waiting for something…

Going to the Aurors is fine enough when they can test Professor Sinistra with some measure of success - they've already pulled Quirrell in before and found nothing. They won't move on just my word for this.

She leans forward, her hair shifting to a worried shade of blue, her eyes flickering into the same color. "You're right, but there's got to be someone, even if they only humor us, Dumbledore might even listen..."

I roll my eyes, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest. "Yeah, because he's been so reliable up until now," I say sarcastically. "He obliviated me, even if I can understand his reasoning, how do we know he won't do the same now? How do we even know he's on our side?"

This world has been a wonder, and a terror. There's nothing saying Dumbledore is actually benevolent. I gave up on trying to divine him ages ago.

Tonks sighs, her eyes softening as she reaches over to ruffle my hair. "You're too young to be this cynical, you know that? But, yeah, you've got a point. Maybe McGonagall? She's strict, but she's fair." She looks dubious even at her own suggestion.

I shake my head. "Even if she believed us, what could she do other than go to Dumbledore? We need Quirrell gone, and we need it now. The longer we wait, the more dangerous he becomes."

I just have this feeling in my gut, maybe it's my connection to divination, maybe it's just paranoia, but I can't help but feel that I've set in motion the endgame with my rush to help Professor Sinistra.

Tonks shifts her position, her demeanor switching to that of her big sister persona, as she leans over and half hugs me, her voice soothing, "I get it, Lucas. You're scared, and you have every right to be. But acting rashly can get you killed. I can't let that happen. We need a plan that doesn't involve you getting yourself hurt or worse."

You're not allowed to get hurt. She sends straight into my head, as she leans her forehead against mine.

Her concern touches me, but it also frustrates me. I stand up, pacing the small space. "I just feel like we're running out of time. We're kids - technically - playing against adults here. And if we don't do something soon, it's going to be too late."

Tonks watches me, her eyes following my restless movement. "We could try to gather more evidence. Something concrete that we can take to the professors or the Aurors. Maybe we can catch him in the act, or find a way to expose the collection in his office."

I stop pacing, looking at her. "And what if we get caught? Or worse, what if we don't find anything? That cabinet must be warded way beyond anything we can deal with. We'd be tipping our hand even more for nothing!" I am frustrated, and most of all worried.

This isn't a world where everything could just be left to Harry Potter. I need to do something. Take control of my own destiny, not wait for Quirrell to move.

My paranoia is ramping up, I can't afford to wait. To let Quirrell play his hand.

She stands up, walking over to me and placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "We won't know until we try. And we'll be careful. We can't let fear paralyze us, but we also can't let it drive us to do something stupid."

Since when did you get wise? I snark mentally, Tonks giving me a playful whack to the back of my head for the comment. It's weird though, usually she's the gung-ho one.

I let out a long breath, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. And I don't want to be stuck waiting for something awful to happen." We need to find a way to destroy the blood at the very minimum, I think.

And if we're doing that, we might as well go after Quirrell, because no way he doesn't know it's me if that happens. Two targets. His office. Quirrell himself.

How could we do it? With adult help, or without?

I do have his location at all times, hours in advance. I have to do this… I think, mind whirring.

Tonks pulls me into a hug, her warmth and strength grounding me. "We'll figure this out, Lucas. You're not alone in this. I've got your back, and we'll find a way to deal with Quirrell. Just… Try not to take the whole world on your shoulders, okay?" She says, sounding sad, my stress and fear making her worry for me.

I nod against her side, appreciating the moment of comfort. "We'll have to find a way. I can't shake the feeling that time's running out."

She pulls back, giving me a confident smile. "That's the spirit. Now, let's get to work. We'll outsmart that snake, and we'll do it together."

"Have you ever thought to divide and conquer?" Sebastian drawls lazily from his portrait, the two Slytherins having quietly followed our conversation.

"We're not doing that." Tonks says firmly, hair blaring a blazing red as she glares at the Slytherin, "I need to watch Lucas back! I'm not leaving him alone for anything!"

I refrain from pointing out that classes ensure we're constantly separated. Still, I feel her sudden glare.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, sneering, "Ah, young love, too bad he's too young to get it up, eh?"

Can portraits be jealous? I wonder, eyeing Sebastian and his sneering visage.

"He's a metamorphmagus." Tonks sniffs, waving a hand dismissively.

"Did you have a point, Sebastian." I say harshly, not even wanting to go there. For Merlin's sake we're going to be siblings soon!

Tonks just gives me a pitying look, shaking her head at my thoughts.

"Yeah, I did…" He says with a nasty smirk, "You and your lovely paramour could work together, to blow that office of his to kingdom come, something strong enough to get through the wards of his secret little cabinet this time. And as you know where the lovely Professor will be at all times, you can set it up so he meets the lovely Aurors just in time, a compromising position set up for him. He fights them, you win, whether he wins or loses - he's gone from Hogwarts."

"He can just allow himself to be taken in again." I say, irritably.

He'd already weaseled out of it every time, and somehow I doubted he'd be easy to corner that way again, no matter what advantage I have.

Fool me once, fool me twice… I very much doubt Professor Quirrell hasn't made sure he isn't going to be fooled thrice.

Anything going against him will need to be set up in advance, so he doesn't smell it coming.

Tonks puts an arm around my shoulder, "If we make it a trap already placed before he gets there, if we can get spells flying… The Aurors already suspect him, they'll attack thinking it's him, afterwards it won't matter what set it all off." She suggests, visibly warming up to the idea.

I wince, "My last attempt at any kind of runic trap didn't go well for us."

"Penny is pretty good at runes." Tonks muses, face scrunched up in thought.

"...She is at least likely to hear you out." I admit begrudgingly. "But I'd still like to do some divination on how receptive she'd be."

"Do not practice more divination this year, you're practically begging to be a plaything of forces beyond your ken." Ominis interrupts to say, his face stern.

I lift my hands placatingly, not that he can see it, "I wasn't going to do it myself, Tonks can do it." Easy roll of the dice, she has enough belief in the magic, she's used it before.

"You're tied to her." Ominis reminds me, sounding exasperated and tired.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I pause, because he's probably right on that, "Neville and the gang then." I switch gears. "It's not too much to ask them to roll and answer the question of whether Professor Haywood will be receptive to Tonks' question."

"You rely too much on divination." Ominis warns, Tonks stepping in at that point, literally feeling my growing ire and stress, "He knows already, bugger off!" She shouts at the portrait, hugging me close, surely accidentally burying my face in her bosom, since when was she short enough for that anyway?

"... Someone's been practicing with their morphing." I mumble dryly.

Tonks returns to her normal height, a prideful smile on her face, "Yup, I'm learning lots after the whole… You know." She makes a face, not even wanting to mention Pettigrew in regards to her increase in skill.

"Well… We'll have to try and at least talk to Professor Haywood, if the divination turns out alright." I shake my head, "I can't believe I'm actually thinking of getting her involved, but we need someone else in our corner."

"I keep saying you can trust her, you know." Tonks says, smiling softly.

I look away, "I know." Yet I can't trust any of them… I just can't.

Tonks thankfully leaves it alone.

We spend the rest of the evening just sitting together, enjoying the company, knowing the next few days would be… Problematic.

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Next day just before breakfast.

I'm the last one getting up this morning, getting ready for breakfast and a day of classes. I gather my books, stuffing them into my bag, when a small, house elf appears beside me. His bat-like ears twitch nervously as he hands me a note.

"Master Greenwood," the house elf squeaks, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and urgency, "Professor Snapes be requesting your presence in his office immediately."

I suppress a groan, already anticipating the unpleasant encounter. Snape's summons are rarely a good sign - with this timing, it can't be anything but a horrible sign. I've mostly managed to avoid him this year after all. I nod to the house elf, who vanishes with a pop, then make my way down to the dungeons, my footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls.

The corridor leading to Snape's office is dimly lit, the flickering torches casting ominous shadows - I suspect charmed to do so on purpose. I take a deep breath before knocking on the heavy wooden door.

"Enter," comes the silky, disdainful voice from within.

I push the door open and step inside. Snape's office is as intimidating as always, lined with jars containing various potions ingredients and strange, floating specimens. The air is thick with the scent of herbs and something more acrid. Snape sits behind his desk, his dark eyes narrowed as he watches me.

"Close the door," he commands, his voice a sharp contrast to the oppressive silence.

I do as he says, feeling a knot of tension form in my stomach. I stand before his desk, waiting for the reprimand that I know is coming.

I just don't know for what exactly.

"Mister Greenwood," Snape begins, his tone laced with irritation, "Do you have any idea how many issues I have had to resolve due to your... Meddling?"

I swallow hard, meeting his gaze with as much courage as I can muster - turns out it's plenty, compared to Quirrell he's not actually that scary. "I don't know what you mean, sir." I say demurely. Deny, deny, deny.

Snape's eyes narrow further, his expression darkening. "Don't play dumb with me, child. You've been sticking your nose into matters far beyond your comprehension. Dangerous matters."

I don't meet his eyes as I stay silent, waiting for him to reveal what exactly he knows. Because there's a lot he could be referencing.

Merlin! I've really had a busy year haven't I?

Professor Snape hisses lowly, leaning forward, "Meddling with dangerous adult wizards in suicidal stupidity is hard to hide, you cretin! Don't even get me started on meddling with a ritual!"

I clench my fists at my sides, trying to keep my voice steady. "If you're talking about Professor Quirrell -"

"I am," Snape cuts me off, his voice dangerously low. "You and your little friends think you're being clever, don't you? But your reckless actions are endangering yourselves and others."

I feel a flush of anger rise in my cheeks. "Someone has to do something! He's dangerous, and no one seems to be doing anything about it!" I clench my teeth shut, knowing getting passionate won't serve me here. Not with this man. Nothing I say can help me convince this one - it's why I've not been quick to ask for help.

At least he acknowledges Quirrell is dangerous, just won't do anything about it…

Snape stands abruptly, his black robes billowing as he leans over the desk. "You are a child, Mister Greenwood. You have no idea what you're dealing with. This is not some childish game. The adults, the Professors - those who are far more capable and knowledgeable than you - are handling it. Your interference is not only unwelcome but hazardous."

I grit my teeth, my frustration boiling over. "But what if you're not handling it? What if he's planning something right now and no one stops him?"

I can practically feel everything coming to a head. If Dumbledore is waiting for something, I don't think we can wait any longer.

Snape's eyes flash with anger. "You will cease this foolish behavior at once. Is that understood? You will sit back, shut up, and let the adults handle the situation." His eyes narrow dangerously, "It will be handled."

I feel my heart pounding in my chest, a mix of anger and defiance. "And what if you fail? What if you wait so long someone dies? I'm not stupid, I don't want to even be near someone like him…" My eyes harden as I stare angrily at his nose, "But you're forcing us to take classes with him!"

It can't be said enough, if they have a plan to stop him, to stop Voldemort. I'd love that to be honest. I'd love being able to sit back and chill and not worry about it.

But I can't because they're already shown they're willing to sacrifice us to make it happen. I don't want to wake up at the end of year, finding out that half of Hufflepuff lost their lives but I should be happy because Voldemort is gone.

It might logically make sense from a strategic outlook, but I won't accept it!

Snape's expression turns even colder, if that's possible. "Do not overestimate your importance, Mister Greenwood. You are a first-year student with no training and no understanding of the complexities at play here. If you continue to meddle, you will only make things worse."

The tension in the room is palpable, and I can see the finality in Snape's eyes when I briefly glance up and meet them, surprisingly not coming under Legilimency attack. There's no room for negotiation here. He expects obedience, and he will not tolerate defiance.

"Now," Snape continues, his tone brooking no argument, "You will leave this office and refrain from any further attempts to investigate or interfere. Do I make myself clear?"

I swallow my natural response, nodding slowly. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get out," he snaps, his gaze lingering on me with a mixture of disdain and warning.

Fuck you too!

I turn and leave the office, my mind racing with a mix of anger and helplessness. As I make my way back through the dimly lit corridors, I can't help but feel the weight of Snape's words pressing down on me. But I know that I can't just sit back and do nothing. Not when so much is at stake.

I have one answer at least. I'd wondered who'd caught me doing a ritual during the meteor shower way back when - the answer is now obvious. It had been Snape.

At least it appeared to be only that, as he'd mentioned a ritual, not many. If he'd found out any of my 'meddling' from something else, like blowing up some of Hogwarts to get Quirrell out, he'd have been much harsher.

So, he knows I dabble in more than dice.

Just the person I want to know I perform rituals… At least he seems to think it was a one time thing. The Undercroft has protected me more than I realized.

So Snape wants me to back off and trust him?

Well fuck him.

I'm still going ahead with things. I won't let Quirrell and Dumbledore dictate the pace of things, setting up an epic end of year showdown.

Magic runs on story beats?

Well, instead of the year end showdown? I'll give magic the plucky young hero going up against all odds with my big sister/best friend/soulmate?

What can go wrong?

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Knockturn Alley, Tavern with no name.

Ophelia scowled, glaring harshly at the cowled man that suddenly plopped down beside her in the dimly lit booth. "You're late!" She bit out.

She might be an initiate performing tasks to prove herself at the moment - but some common courtesy should still exist. She'd been waiting two hours.

And she hated the fact she'd had no choice but to continue to wait, she couldn't ditch someone like this.

The hulking figure who only went by the moniker Obelisk, glanced at her, or so she thought, finding it hard to tell when the cowl held only darkness, smokey and indistinct. "Girl, the timetable has moved up, you have two days."

Ophelia stiffened, lips curling into a vicious snarl, "two days!? I was given until the last week of the Hogwarts term!"

She was proud of her skills, but not that proud. Her task was inconceivable even for a seasoned Death Eater in 48 hours.

Obelisk seemed irritated as well, if the tension in the shoulders of his hulking form was any clue, "I agree, but thems the breaks, girl."

She double checked that the wards she'd placed to divert nosey patrons was still intact, before hissing out, "How do you expect me to get past the Auror detail and wards, I haven't even begun spying on them!?"

Obelisk, sighed noisily, lifting a placating giant hand, "Eh, don't get your knickers in a twist, the order came from above, so we gotta do it, or more specifically you have to." Before she could explode, either in anger or fear, she wasn't sure herself, he continued, "But the master understands the situation has moved up rapidly, you're switching targets to the wife instead. Much easier, only two Auror guards, and constantly out in public out of the wards."

Ophelia settled somewhat at that, two Aurors were manageable. Even if 48 hours gave her no time to scout out the situation. "Still the same deal?" She asked, scowling darkly.

Obelisk laughed cruelly, "Yes. Use Karkaroff, but ensure his recollection of events is… Appropriate."

Ophelia nodded, mind already turned to the coming events. She didn't know why a plan with a month of leeway suddenly shrunk to two days, but she'd do her duty.

It was her way in.

She had in fact planned to use Karkaroff as the disposable pawn he was, his cowardly and traitorous behavior obvious. It had impressed Obelisk, she hoped it impressed his superiors as well.

At the very least. In 48 hours one Death Eater would be off the board, even if a fairly useless one.

It said a lot of things about the movement that a headmaster of Durmstrang could be considered superfluous so easily - not that he likely was the headmaster anymore having been gone from the school all year - collecting Muggleborns for Merlin knows what.

It only further strengthened her resolve, she needed to prove her loyalty, always.

It was the only way to truly protect Tonks in what was coming.

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That night, Hufflepuff common room,

I can't completely hide my nerves as I sit in the common room, waiting for Tonks to return from her 'detention' with Professor Haywood.

Knowing at least Snape and Dumbledore know some of what I've been up to, hasn't eased my paranoia. They might not know about the mind connection, not with both our minds protected by more than just regular Occlumency now - but they know Tonks is involved in what I'm doing.

Would they have brought Professor Haywood in on their plan for the year? Or was she too young and unattached to trust with such information? I lean towards the second, but even though I have been right a lot this year - I've also been wrong too.

Susan gives me a worried look as she heads up to bed and I wince internally.

Although I trust my friends, I don't involve them in this, they should still be allowed to be kids a little longer. I'm not going to expose all the dangerous things potentially coming down on all of our heads, as first years there's literally nothing they can do. I only can do something due to bullshit, and even then my intervention is a longshot.

I had almost asked Susan to contact her aunt for me, but held back in the end. Although Amelia Bones might listen because it's from Susan, that doesn't mean the head of the DMLE is going to jump, at the say so of a brat. She'll investigate, send people, have her people already at Hogwarts poke around, and by the time they decide on something it will be too late.

That's if she isn't already in cahoots with Dumbledore as the Auror presence might suggest. The fact the groundskeeper who replaced Hagrid is such an obvious undercover Auror, already suggests the same.

I sigh loudly, standing up to pace now that the common room is empty. Without divination I would have been helpless, and now that I've overused it so much, I'm almost back to that helpless stage again. My stronger than average skills and magic compared to my classmates doesn't do much good in this situation.

It's only now that I've put my mind fully on this situation that I've become even more stressed about the outcome of the next few days.

Quirrell had once bounced my divination ritual away. Whether through wards on him or his office, I wasn't sure.

So why have my divinations worked lately? I hadn't thought about it, too excited about getting answers - is it working due to him personally not being warded? Or am I being led by the nose?

But then why would he allow the mice to work, full knowledge of his whereabouts at all times for hours in advance? Surely whatever ward couldn't spoof the Marauder's Map as well? I had checked that what was showing on the map was his actual location at times by asking other students.

I growl lowly, hating that I don't have answers to all the mysteries floating around.

I continue pacing back and forth in the common room, my thoughts a whirlwind of worry and anticipation. The cozy warmth of the fireplace and the soft furnishings and leafy surroundings that usually bring me such comfort, feel stifling right now.

My heart skips a beat every time I hear a noise, hoping it's Tonks returning with good news. Or at least returning safe, mind intact. I don't think Dumbledore or Snape would go that far - but I don't know.

At least, I think with some relief, she would be able to send me a warning if she's ambushed. The mind connection would give me that much.

Finally, the portrait hole swings open, and Tonks steps through, her hair a shade of dark purple. She looks around quickly, her eyes locking onto mine as she makes her way over.

"Well?" I ask, my voice a mix of impatience and hope. She flashes me an understanding smile, squeezing my shoulder as she gets close, plucking my worry out of my thoughts.

Tonks sighs, as she drops into one of the cushy armchairs. "It wasn't easy, Lucas. Penny is skeptical, to say the least. She doesn't believe a word about Quirrell being possessed by Voldemort. But she did agree to help us set a trap, at least - she trusts me enough to set things up for the Aurors to investigate things."

Relief washes over me, but it's tinged with the worry that it's not enough. "So she's going to help us catch him? How?"

Tonks nods, leaning forward, her face serious. "She'll help us to a point. She's agreed to contact the Aurors and express 'worry' about the Professor, leading them to him once we give her the go ahead about his location. But she made it clear that if this goes wrong, it's on us. She won't stick her neck out any further than necessary." She shrugs, "Hufflepuff loyalty only goes so far when you're doing something like this."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "That's more than I hoped for, honestly. I was worried she'd just shut us down entirely."

Friendship is friendship, but planning to trap and attack a Professor at the institution she just started working at, I'm surprised she even agreed, to be honest - even if she refused to have a hand in the actual trapping… I think, chewing on a nail, it still leaves us the problem of trapping him again, but ensures the Aurors will actually show up.

Tonks smiles faintly, her hair lightening to a warmer shade. "She almost did. But I think she saw how serious we are about this - how serious I am. And maybe she trusts me, at least a little."

I nod, feeling a rush of gratitude towards Tonks. She's been a lifesaver this year. First Pettigrew, now this. "You did great, Tonks. This is exactly what we needed."

She shrugs, trying to downplay it, but I can see the relief in her eyes too. "It's a start. But we still need to be careful. If we push too hard, it could backfire, and Quirrell might get away or do something even more dangerous." She cautions, well aware that what we'd most wanted from Professor Haywood was help with a trap, which we didn't get.

Neither one of us have the runes capabilities to craft something likely to either hold Professor Quirrell for a few minutes - or start an attack once the Aurors approach.

I sit down opposite her, the weight of the situation settling back onto my shoulders. "Yeah, I know. But it's something. We have a chance now."

Tonks reaches over, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "We'll make it work, Lucas. One way or another, we're going to stop him."

I nod, meeting her determined gaze. "Together."

She grins, her hair turning a bright, confident pink. "Damn right, together. Now, let's figure out the details of this trap. We've got a dark wizard to catch." She says, pumping a fist.

Her cheer is infectious, and I laugh, "Alright, you're right, let's get to it!"

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Two days later, we have the workings of a plan. I'm sitting in the Undercroft on one of my free periods due to taking less classes, flipping through a text on curses, not really paying attention, my mind on the trap we plan to spring by tomorrow.

"Lucas, you said to let you know if anything big happens." Tonks reaches into my mind to say, her voice sounding worried.

I sit up straight, my thoughts immediately flashing with panic, did he do something? "What's wrong, Tonks?"

"Dumbledore is gone, the Wizengamot has called a closed emergency session for something, we found out because Astronomy was canceled for tonight, Sprout just told the common room."

Shit, shit, absolute bloody shit! I think, rushing for my mice, unfurling the Marauder's Map, as I get them out of their cages. "Any idea why?" I ask Tonks while she's still connected.

"Listening to the wireless right now, in the common room."

I let out a sigh of relief as I find the present mouse pointing at Quirrell's office.

"Holy shit, the Minister's wife was assassinated by a Death Eater, they have him in custody and everything!" Tonks exclaims a few minutes later, giving him the news as she hears it.

I pause what I'm doing, that… Could that be something completely separate? Would Quirrelmort really contact his Death Eaters to go that far just to ensure Dumbledore was locked away all day?

In canon he refused to contact his people while weak. If anything he was scarier here, would he really show himself when that weak? With the Death Eaters more dangerous?

Either way, with Dumbledore locked in a closed session, Quirrelmort has an opportunity. I grab the next mouse, listening as Tonks names the suspect as Igor Karkaroff. "What the hell? Why is the headmaster of Durmstrang assassinating people?" I think at Tonks, her own bafflement is coming through the connection at the same time.

I freeze as I glance down at the mouse for one hour from now. Myrtle's bathroom? No, not that!

The next mouse is released and two hours from now finds him exiting the third corridor. No, no, no! They had a trap set for him tomorrow! This can't be happening now!

"Tonks he's moving now!" I shout through the connection, panic flaring through.

"Shit! What do you need me to do?"

"Get Professor Sprout, or an Auror, anyone, let them know a fucking Basilisk is about to be let loose on Hogwarts!"

"WHAT!?" The incredulity in Tonks voice comes through clear as day.

"I don't have time to explain, let them know they have less than an hour, the entrance is Myrtle's bathroom, claim my divination if you must, but get them to BELIEVE, no matter what!" I practically scream through the connection as I rush out of the Undercroft, heading for the dungeons.

Snape might be an absolute asshole, and a recovering murderous one at that - but if a Basilisk might be let loose, he needs to know no matter the consequences to myself. At least I can continue to blame divination, as it's kind of true.

Snape might even have a way to get Dumbledore back.

I almost knock Filch over as I rush down the stairs to the dungeons, not having time to apologize.

Seconds later everything goes black.

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With Tonks,

She wanted to tear her hair out, fifteen minutes, that's how long it took her to find Professor Sprout! What a time not to be anywhere logical you frumpy bitch!

She'd lost contact with Lucas, fearing the worst for a second, but he was still there. Just not conscious. So she might be in a bit of a state of panic - props to Sprout for one thing though, she clearly didn't believe a word out of her mouth, crying and screaming as she was, but she still sent out the alert.

It took another thirty minutes to find out that all the Aurors were dead. Poisoned, and to gather the staff.

At that point the Professors had gathered, Tonks sitting miserably to the side as they went through options.

What use is this bloody connection if I can't feel where he is!? She grouched internally, fear gripping her heart. Lucas? Answer me Lucas? Please?

"We have less than half an hour in all likelihood, counting whatever length of time it will take to wake the creature, evacuation is the only option." Professor Snape snapped at Professor Flitwick, who'd just arrived, grimly informing the rest that Myrtle's bathroom was inaccessible, warded beyond his capabilities.

Tonks' warning had suddenly been taken very seriously once the Aurors were found dead. Penny kept sending her a grim apologetic look, realizing Tonks and Lucas had been all too correct in their warning.

Just too late. One more fucking day. He couldn't have waited one more fucking day? Tonks thought, tears running down her cheeks.

Notably none of the Professors asked for Professor Quirrell's whereabouts. Either they knew, or they'd been informed now that the crisis was upon them. Yet no one was moving for him, no one was saving Lucas!

"We don't have enough time to floo all the students out, let alone get them all to the floos in the first place." Professor McGonagall said grimly.

"Make the announcement, get everyone outside, they can run to Hogsmeade!" Professor Snape shouted, making the Professors jolt as he wasn't one to easily raise his voice, "We don't have time!" He reiterated harshly.

Professor McGonagall nodded tersely, agreeing with her colleague, she put her wand to her throat, "Sonorus Maxima." Before clearing it, "ALL STUDENTS ARE TO IMMEDIATELY EXIT THE CASTLE AND PROCEED TO HOGSMEADE AT A RUN! PREFECTS, LEAD YOUR CLASSMATES, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, DO NOT STOP FOR ANYTHING, DO NOT RETURN FOR BELONGINGS, WHEREVER YOU ARE, GO TO HOGSMEADE IMMEDIATELY!"

Professor Vector rushed into the staff room, "I flooed the DMLE, they're trying, but for some reason the wards won't let them in, Rufus is going to try and get a message in to Madame Bones, but the closed session is complicating things. The wards for those sessions aren't meant to be breached.

"Everyone but the heads of houses go and ensure the students get out and protect them on their path." Professor McGonagall said swiftly, before closing her eyes briefly, "Filius, Pomona, Severus… I can't ask you…" Professor McGonagall said, her tone pained.

Tonks slipped out as the Professors focused on the task ahead, she wasn't going to evacuate, she needed to find Lucas!

Without hesitation, she rushed on towards the third floor corridor.

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Outside Myrtle's bathroom.

Minerva had never wished more for Albus than at this moment, pacing up and down a hallway outside a girl's bathroom.

The Chamber of Secrets, it must be. What a location for it, no wonder no one ever discovered it.

"This ward… I recognize it." Severus said darkly, the oily sheen of the ward disgusting to look at, only visible through the combined effort of Filius and Severus.

"Can you get through it?" She asked immediately, even as she blanched internally, because there was only one reason Severus would recognize it. Quirinus, how low have you fallen?

Everything had taken too much time, even now the students were just speeding out in a great mass across the way, heading for Hogsmeade. According to the timeline they'd received, through divination of all things. The Basilisk should be loose by now.

And here they were, fools all of them, ready to die to ensure it slithered not a step further than this bathroom.

"Not in time." Severus answered with a disgusted sneer, glaring at the ward like it had offended him.

Minerva went to answer, but was interrupted as a Patronus burst through the wall, Professor Babblings' panicked voice shouting, "IT'S HERE!"

Minerva froze, her heart practically stopping. The entirety of the wizarding world's youth was out there, facing a Basilisk, Slytherin's Basilisk.

Severus reacted faster than the rest of them, snarling something she couldn't repeat without burning her tongue, the window and wall nearby blasting apart in a cacophony of noise.

Impressive, because Hogwarts as a rule, could not easily be torn apart like that. Perhaps the castle was even helping, in this time of crisis. Or perhaps not, as said castle got a bit… Frazzled was perhaps the best word for it, due to the damage, and they suddenly found themselves on the 7th floor. Not ideal.

When this was over, she was going to have words with Albus on how on earth the wards could act like they were frozen in time, not allowing anyone in, nor allowing her to activate the defenses.

A second later Severus was gone, having tossed himself out of the hole, robes billowing as the madman summoned a broom, counting on it to reach him from the Quidditch field before he hit the ground.

If they survived this, Minerva was never going to let him forget how utterly Gryffindor he was!

So shocked she was, that she failed to react as Filius shot himself out of the hole like he'd been hit by a banishing charm, the tiny man spiraling away into the distance.

"Men!" Pomona cried out, tossing a bunch of seeds out of the hole, shooting a spell at them growing vines down the castle wall in the shape of an undulating slide. "Come on Minerva, we can't let them beat us there!"

Minerva grabbed her Gryffindor courage, and jumped onto the slide, praying as she went after the white faced Herbology Professor.

Merlin, Morgana, anyone that's listening, please let us be on time!

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The grounds of Hogwarts were a frenzy of activity as students and teachers fled back towards Hogwarts, their collective fear palpable in the air. The Basilisk, a monstrous serpent of legend, had emerged from the Forbidden Forest, cutting off their escape and forcing the Professors into a desperate battle for survival.

Professor Vector, Professor Haywood, and Professor Babbling stood their ground, determined to protect the students as the rest of the staff desperately tried to escort them back towards safety. The massive serpent, its scales glinting ominously in the daylight, slithered across the lawn with terrifying grace, its eyes scanning the chaos for victims.

Only the fact it had seemed intent on blocking their way had prevented deaths so far. But now that they weren't moving, it had begun slithering their way.

"Don't look at its eyes!" shouted Professor Vector, her voice barely rising above the din. She cast a powerful blinding hex, aiming for the creature's deadly gaze. The spell exploded in a burst of light, momentarily disorienting the Basilisk but failing to strike its intended target.

The Basilisk wasn't stupid, it knew exactly where the humans would try and strike, and protected its eyes at all cost.

Professor Haywood, usually so perky and animated, was focused and intense. She conjured thick, thorny vines from the earth, trying to entangle the serpent's body - emulating her old Head of House Pomona Sprout. The vines wrapped around the Basilisk, but it thrashed violently, breaking free in a matter of seconds - Penny Haywood far from the experienced witch Pomona Sprout was.

With a determined expression, she cast a series of cutting spells, each one aimed at its head and eyes, fully aware it would do nothing, but hoping to at least occupy its gaze for a moment, forcing the snake to look away.

Professor Babbling, known for her deep knowledge of ancient runes, used her expertise to conjure defensive wards. She created a shimmering barrier of ancient symbols that crackled with magical energy, forming a protective line between the fleeing students and the creature. "We need to keep it at bay until the others arrive!" She called out, her voice steady, despite the tension, even as her eyes were wide with fright.

Like the rest of them, she held no illusions about their capability to actually defeat the great serpent.

The Basilisk hissed loudly, a sound that reverberated across the grounds and sent chills down everyone's spine. Its eyes, filled with lethal intent, locked onto the professors. It surged forward, its immense body coiling and uncoiling with deadly purpose.

"Focus your spells on its eyes!" Vector shouted again, sending a barrage of hexes and jinxes towards the serpent. The combined force of their spells seemed to have an effect, momentarily slowing the Basilisk's advance as it dug its head into the earth to avoid any damage to its eyes.

The students, meanwhile, were in a state of frantic retreat. Prefects and older students, combined with what few Professors they had amongst them, did their best to organize the younger ones, steering them towards the relative safety of Hogwarts yet again.

Professor Haywood, her eyes fierce with determination, tears brimming in her eyes as she faced certain death, stepped forward, casting a series of blasting curses at the creature's head. "We can't let it reach the students!" she cried, her voice filled with urgency and fear.

The Basilisk, enraged by the onslaught, reared back and unleashed a deafening hiss. It lunged towards the professors, its massive jaws snapping inches away from Professor Babbling, who narrowly dodged the attack, but tossing herself back in a feat of magic, she met the creature's eyes, and fell dead on the spot, the wards protecting the fleeing students dying with her.

"No!" Professor Vector screamed, tears running down her face as she threw everything she had at the Basilisk, it's scales not even scuffing.

Just as the situation seemed dire, the heads of houses appeared on the scene, adding their considerable power to the fight. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor Snape all arrived within seconds of each other, Professor Snape snarling as he nailed the Basilisk in one eye with a dark seeming curse. The eye exploded in an explosion of viscera, and the Basilisk reared back, roaring in pain.

"Keep up the pressure on its eyes!" Professor McGonagall commanded, while her Transfiguration spells turned the very earth itself to the task of holding down the Basilisk. The mud and earth churned as she fought to bind it, while the Basilisk and its magic resistant scales fought back with everything it had.

Flitwick, his wand moving with lightning speed, cast a series of curses and charms, flocks of animals screeching as they dive bombed the serpent, seeking it's last remaining eye, while the curses he'd sworn to never again use - flew around them, aimed for where the Basilisk would potentially dodge.

Sprout reinforced Haywood's torn apart vines with thicker, stronger tendrils that wrapped around the Basilisk's body, holding it in place for a few crucial moment together with Minerva, Professor Haywood collapsing on her knees, breathing heavily, crawling towards the still screaming Professor Vector who stood above Professor Babblings corpse.

Snape, his expression one of cold fury, unleashed a barrage of dark hexes and curses, his focus entirely on incapacitating the creature. "Now!" he shouted, sending a particularly vicious hex towards the Basilisk's eye.

With all of them working together, the Basilisk was running out of ways to dodge the spells for its eye. The coordinated effort of the professors began to turn the tide. The Basilisk, overwhelmed by the combined assault, thrashed and hissed, but its movements grew slower and less precise. The Professors pressed their advantage, their spells converging on the creature's head in a relentless barrage.

As the Basilisk recoiled from the onslaught, the students continued their desperate dash towards the castle, the frontrunners already arriving. There was a commotion as some of the Gryffindors surrounded one of the Professors, desperately pleading something.

Back on the battlefield, the Professors showed no signs of letting up. Their combined magic formed a dazzling display of light and power, each spell carefully aimed to weaken and disorient the Basilisk. With a final, coordinated strike, they managed to blind the last of its eyes, causing the creature to rear back in pain and hatred.

The fact they'd managed to fight so well without ever looking directly at it, was a testament to their skill.

"Keep pushing!" McGonagall urged, her voice cutting through the chaos.

In a feat of strength, driven by rage, the Basilisk shattered the magic and transfiguration holding it back, driving into the earth so hard they were all driven off their feet as the ground literally exploded under them, Professor Vector screaming all the louder as the earth snapped up and crushed her legs from underneath her in the great upheaval.

Professor McGonagall couldn't waste time to even send a spell her way, thanking magic that young Penny was immediately treating the wounds, stabilizing them. Septima might yet still live if they hurried up.

The Basilisk reappeared from the upturned earth, Flitwick shielding himself desperately as its tail sent him flying with crushing force towards the castle, no amount of dodging was enough to move away in time from the tail the size of a house. He'd live, she thought, but he was out of the fight.

Severus appeared from the dust and debris, face enraged as he sent spells faster than anyone on the battlefield could even track.

He, finally, was able to actually rend its scales somewhat, but not enough to put the beast down. His and Pomona's efforts to slow the beast in the end, not enough. Her own efforts were similarly defeated, the beast had too tough of a skin, its only weak spot too closely protected.

The beast lunged forward, and Minerva was all that stood between it and Hogwarts - she saw what she must do. Its scales were too magical resistant, they weren't getting anywhere. If Filius couldn't dodge in time, neither could she, she glared at the monster, ready to do her duty.

She saw the jaws closing in, she steeled her courage, the roar of the serpent not enough to drown out Severus' pained shout of, "NO!"

As the jaws closed down around her, the Basilisk was finally vulnerable, her last effort, transfiguring a spike of earth that transformed into something harder than any steel, and sending it shooting up from beneath her feet, spearing the beast through the roof of its mouth into its brain.

The Basilisk was dead.

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I wake up suddenly, my limbs spasming as I try to move and find that I can't, as I realize I'm tied up.

My face grows pale as I look ahead of me, seeing the Mirror of Erised, Professor Quirrell standing before it with a small pleased smile on his face.

He notices I am awake, and chuckles softly. "See Harry, I told you our dear mudblood is fine."

My heart freezes, as I slowly turn my head, finding Harry Potter in the same situation I am in.

Tied down, trussed up like a pig to the slaughter.

"Lucas, can you hear me!? Answer me you bastard!? Tonks is shouting in my head and I almost cry in relief.

"I'm here." I reply back, and I can hear her crying in my head. "We're in the third corridor, at the end."

Quirrell taps his thin lips as he watches us both, "Well, I have to say, I would be lost in time forever right now if it weren't for the two of you, to think bringing the children along stopped Albus' trap from snapping shut. How soft of him." He shakes his head, "Absolutely brilliant, this time trap, genius. I'm honestly quite jealous."

He snaps his fingers and they're both slowly dragged forward in front of him.

Quirinus Quirrell grins with a hint of dark promise, "Let's discuss what happens next, shall we, boys?"

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