Guaranteed, she was going to get an earful as soon as he would step through those doors. She really dug a fine hole for herself by only trying to defend a friend, among one of the first she had ever made. Especially after the forewarnings her Guardian gave - - Lyra could not feel any more embarrassed, of not bruised, as she sat close to be examined on one of the beds in the wide Hospital Wing.

"Gave us all quite a turn, young Prince," spoke the stinging voice of the Headnurse, Madame Pomfrey as she soon concluded examining Lyra's right side where a bruise had formed harshly. She winced and how she deserved that when her arm was allowed to lower back to resting on her lap.

Lyra looked at the woman, tensely, and it wasn't her well deserved pain that caused it. It was that calloused look within Pomfrey's own that made her feel much worse. The Headnurse wore a kindly sort of demeanor about her but she held a sternness in her eyes that prevented argument.

"Granted, child. It is he who you must answer to, not I. Best to follow the advice given to you."

"I was only trying to help someone…"

"Again, Miss Prince, keep your wits about you, if it my place to say."

From where her bed was, it was easy for Lyra to overhear talking out in the corridor and she picked up on his baritone voice among them. Lyra was then allowed to lean back against her pillow.

"Now, keep still. My pick-me-up will do you just fine to ease this bruising. You will be right as rain, soon enough."

Lyra softly smiled, gratefully at the woman before noticing a shadow over them. The Head nurse delivered some side-eye at him as she tucked Lyra's blanket under her legs snugger like prior to moving on with her tray, walking past the stark Professor.

"Thank you, Madame," he told her, upfront and slow. "Allow me a moment alone, to have a word with my ward."

"Mind hearing a bit of advice, Professor?" Poppy Pomfrey whispered to him, even though that earned her a very scathing glance. "Despite her efforts seemingly rash, they were noble nonetheless."

"Do be quiet." he deeply hushed at her, appalled at her audacity of even stating such.

Madame Pomfrey only shared a sweet smile before walking off to leave the family alone, for now. Lyra soon lowered her eyes to her hands, twiddling with them as she gnawed hard on her lip.

"You desire for me to trust you again." he began, as though coldly. "Indeed."

"Please, I can explain. I really can…"

"If it will suffice enough for me to state that Malfoy has been suspended." Professor Prince shared. "…until then, it will be a battle between us, the faculty, and that family in question. All of which do not fall upon your shoulders, however."

Lyra rose her eyes up to him, slightly relieved.

"It is not the only time he has aroused rage within others, intentionally." he spoke, and he soon closed in to her and sat at the bedside, gently holding her hand in both of his. "So you say you can explain to me the reasons why you thought mounting a strange broom trying to prove yourself to a boy who elects to humiliating you, after we had just discussed how delicate life is. As noble as your stance for Miss Slone was and is, such recklessness would only worsen matters —"

"I was not being reckless~ and sir, you know I hate that word!" Lyra spoke up finally. Yet she sighed in defeat upon seeing daggers shoot at her from those tunnels. "… I suppose I was trying to show him that he wasn't as great as he thought he was, that… you know, he'd go away. That I could show you that I can defend myself~"

"Lyra." Prince sighed, becoming careworn. "I've already acknowledged that you can defend yourself. You have your mother's fiery tongue and God forbid, your father's tendency to charge at the given chance… Both can be controlled and spared only for the right opportunity. You have wits, child, and you need to just stop and think for a moment before you act. Or else… forgive me, but all hell will break loose."

Lyra laughed to herself though. "As far as days go, not one goes by quite as well as I intended it,"

Thoughtfully, Prince gazed low. "Oh woe, how life can be… As noble as your attempt was, with no doubt in my mind, your heart was in the right place, for the most part. Granted, I was a little more frightened than I would ever care to admit, witnessing that fall from the barracks…"

"Please, forgive me…" Lyra saddened, wracked with guilt, which prompted her to go forward, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck.

The fresh smell of lemongrass hit her nose as soon as he wrapped his arms around her in return... It was a scent that brought a fond memory from when she was very young. For a moment, Guardian and Ward remained still for a moment...

"Nevertheless," Prince broke the silence and the embrace had to be gently parted. "This does not set you free of any consequences, little fawn."

Lyra sighed as she settled back into her pillow, humbled. "…yes, sir."

"It would seem that we both have been growing a little too comfortable around here. I have discussed future matters with the Headmaster and your Head of House… And we all have agreed that you will be required to have an escort to your classes from now on."

Lyra looked as though she had just tasted something bitter. Especially when he opened his palm. Knowing what he wanted, she took her ring off and handed it over. With an apologetic look in his eyes, he slowly twirled the jewel in his hand. Just as she had experienced for herself, he began to see imagery on the brim. She saw his face sink even more as he gazed up at the sunkissed windows ahead, thinking thoroughly to himself. She kicked herself mentally for this, choosing wisely not to press any current matters right now. His heart would hurt so easily… Easier than many would ever realize.

"As soon as you are healed, you will report to me, daily. Understand? I will not tolerate complaints and neither will I tolerate cheek. You will serve detention with me on Friday evenings for three weeks. You will not set a toe off of these grounds until these detentions are concluded. Try to pull on this leash," he warned her, inching in as he held the charmed ring directly in front of her. "… I shall know."

Silent, she took it back and made sure to place it back in plain view. She nodded.

"Good." was his brisk confirmation.

At the doors of the infirmery, two Gryffindors were nervously peeking in, worriedly. Prince took notice of this and passed to Lyra a sullen look before rising from the seat, leaving his daughter with her thoughts. He may not have risen his voice, yet… this was angriest she had ever seen him for a while. His disdain spread through like a disease… She felt sick to her stomach.

Hermoine set her bag down against the wall and Ron backed against it when Professor Prince had exited the infirmary, naturally on edge of what had gone down. Prince stopped his heel for only a moment, coolly scanning over the two Gryffindors as a warning before sweeping off. Hermoine sighed, feeling horrid. Ron stood wide-eyed before following her into the Wing where they saw a shrunken Lyra on the third bed in.

"Bloody brilliant, that was…" Ron stated, able to breathe again.

"This isn't funny, Ron… When it seemed to all go well. Now we all have done it." Hermoine spoke before facing Lyra. "…are you okay?"

"I'm alive, right?" Lyra soon replied, closing her knees in close to her chin, hugging her legs.

"I told you not to do it."

"I know. He just made me so angry. It was really stupid~ I don't know why but what he called her really set me off…" Lyra explained.

"He called Rebecca a…?"

"A Half Breed." Lyra finished Ron's sentence.

Hermoine looked pained and opened her mouth to say something, yet Lyra continued.

"She hinted that she may have been sick, that morning when she dropped her wand. That Prince was her medicater. But now, I believe it's more than just being sick. Draco or one of the Slytherins must have eavesdropped."

"Doesn't matter. Draco got what he deserved," Ron pointed out.

On that note, Lyra rested both legs down as soon as Madame Pomfrey returned as quick as she left.

"All right, you two, it has been long enough. It is best to let Miss Prince get her rest if she is to continue her term on time. Best be off, spit-spot!" the woman ushered, quite sharply. "And do sit properly, young lady, you are not a cane!"

Disappointed, the two had to listen to her and left to go on with the rest of their day, despite it all now being peppered with worry and who knew on Monday morning next of how Professor Prince was going to be with all this fuss to begin the weekend with… On top of their odd opinions about the turban-wearing jumble of a professor who never seemed very present at the Hall meals ever.

"With Lyra out of the equation… Now what do we do?" Ron asked, flustered as they walked.

"This could be good. I mean, well… the Professor is supervising her much more now. She'll stay safe. And with Draco gone, he won't be a distraction… this could be our chance to look about more and sure Quirrell won't suspect us as long as we're discreet."

"And if he really is up to no good like how Lyra's been talkin' about him, perhaps we can trick him into telling!" Ron spoke almost too loud.

"He mumbles enough as it is. However, Lyra's burning Mark…" Hermoine began to think. "… it makes sense because I read something during Dark Arts that certain curses leave behind memories. Or something along those lines. Lyra's been sensing danger whenever he is about. It's not Prince either, or he knows everything about it but doesn't want us involved."

"It's bloody clear. Quirrell is up to no good and perhaps he is taking advantage of all this distraction… I don't think I've ever seen him at all today." Ron thought out loud.

As they were mumbling about themselves, being too deep into conversation, Rebecca soon came running up the corridor.

"Then we better be careful, and we need to always be near the teachers…As long as Dumbledore and Prince are around, we're safe," Hermoine whispered finally, before Rebecca came to them, out of breath and tired.

"Is-Lyra-okay?" she asked, a little too fast.

"She's fine, but Professor Prince is furious…" Hermoine told her. "At once after the fall he and Dumbledore sent Draco straight off…"

"That's a relief, I mean… I feel terrible… If only Neville just walked off but he just froze and took it."

"You tried your best, Becky. Nothing was your fault. Draco being a git is no one's fault." Ronald consoled as best he could. No doubt, the Ravenclaw looked quite pekid today, of all days and she winced with some downright shame.

"I didn't get in trouble but I was warned to not pick fights so easily."

"What he called you… It was not good form." Hermoine shook her head.

"Bad form, whatnot…"

"What does it mean? Half breed, anyway?" Ron asked, hushed.

"W-well, I-I…" Rebecca stammered as her bright blue eyes started to glisten. "It's hard to explain."

"Well, it can only mean one thing… It's why your classes are postponed." Hermoine saddened.

"Y-yes, um…" Rebecca twiddled her fingers. "… I was very little. I got bitten by — And… once a month I… I have to take this potion. So I won't — hurt anyone. So, I can only assume that one of his friends overheard me and Lyra… and well ~"

"You don't have to say more~ We're sorry!"

"No, it's o-okay. I have to… get used to it anyway." Rebecca said and sniffled. "Professor Prince wants me to come to terms with it… I just wish that I didn't open my mouth at all, and Lyra wouldn't have gotten herself kicked."

"Listen~ you may have heard a tale or two. You can come with us to the library," Hermoine warmly suggested. "We're trying to find the first crown."

"That seems like a nice distraction~"

"Indeed," Ron cut Rebecca off, nervously looking at the bookworm in an instant.