It would have been remarkable to boast that despite all, Lyra Prince was able to almost rival Hermoine during their study periods. Alas, for the sake of her House, she resisted the temptation and kept her mouth shut. Lyra felt ready now, more than ever before since having that tea with the Grounds Keeper. Of course, her time in the study hall was always under quiet observation, by his Truly.

With all due respect, of course, she had made the all the wiser decision to not go against his word again. It was upon the eve of the final midterm when she was in one of the many scattered study halls, finishing up her summery for transfiguring disguises when Rebecca chose to sit, alone, strangely, away from her fellow House members and she seemed to be as right as rain if not a little sad.

This little observation was taken to heart, quietly, while Lyra herself was writing down more classic hints to keep aside for later. As she and her friends were keeping their noses down, Rebecca happened by, with this insecure, yet tired look in her eyes. Hermoine shifted her eyes to her then to Ron and Lyra who soon all turned to her.

"Do you think I- I can si-sit with you?" she asked, holding two dusty books to her chest.

Lyra studied that strangely haunted look in her eyes before humbly nodding to the Ravenclaw. Rebecca placed her books down beside Lyra's set and sat down. She mouthed a shaky 'thank you' at them.

"…are you- have you been well?" Lyra softly asked, in a hushed voice.

"As well as I can help it," Rebecca replied, slowly.

"Well, as far as mental health goes," Hermoine began, sneakily. ", one can go so far as to seek to go it alone, all the while trying to avoid the problem. Bravery to the one who comes to talk through it."

Of course, it would appear harsh in those blue mirrors called Rebecca's eyes, because Lyra could nearly feel the aftermath of it all, despite the lack of detail. Although, after a moment, Lyra spied something that seemed like there was a sweet little shred of honest wistfulness in those mirrors that touched the redhead's heart deeply. She only listened.

"I-it, it wasn't all bad," Rebecca's voice still shook. "I had an all manner of help~ which reminds me… I have a question. Don't think odd of me…"

"Well, of course we won't~"

"I know, it is a silly question, but he does not seem the type, but… do you know whether or not that Professor Prince has any fondness towards sweets?"

Ron stifled a laugh, which earned a nice glare from Hermoine. Lyra smirked as she thought to herself for a moment, warmly looking at the Ravenclaw…

"As a matter of fact, he does. Professor Prince has a fancy for strawberry confections, of any kind. Just naturally." "Strawberry? Really?"

"Oh, do trust me on that." Lyra giggled, feeling cheered up. "It's not a joke."

"I thought you were the only one who took to strawberry!"

"Who likes strawberries?" asked another voice, that belonged to Neville, whilst in a hush. It made the entire table snicker, rendering the tutor at the writing desk to look up in alarm.

"Get'r off, we need to get you a bell~" Ron uttered after having a startle.

"For all that is Good, do keep your voices down, Gryffindors!" hissed the tutor, whose hat was almost shaken clear off her head. "This is a study hour~ Do be considerate…"

Even at this, a few Slytherins watched from afar at their table, with one or two snickering at their general direction. As though that weren't enough, being caught to make the gaggle even worse.

"Apparently, we're not too conspicuous~" Hermoine grumbled, almost blushing even.

"Hardly," Lyra scoffed at that, turning her book page to that of charm wand movements, with tips to help ignite the Lumos spell at its brightest capacity. It was her personal favorite, being the first piece of magic she had ever learned about growing up. Peaceful times and words linked to this spell for many a night, for certain.

"Well, on that note, I suppose you deserve to know a tiny bit about him. He seems to be among the most helpful of the faculty." Lyra soon returned her attentiveness towards Rebecca.

"Next to Dumbledore," Hermoine piped, simply.

"The Headmaster. We hardly see much of him unless it has something to do with bullies."

"This is a mighty castle for a school~ He has two deputies assisting him. I am sure he has other matters to look at, most of the time."

"Certainly so, then again, perhaps we're just trying to avoid thinking about the task at hand~" Hermoine was sure to ruin the fun sooner or later. No matter. Time was of the essence at this rate, if a day of honest frivolity upcoming felt truly rewarding.

"Thanks though, Lyra," Rebecca smiled. "It only feels right that I should put together… a little something to thank him with…"

As far as she was concerned, there was one exam left to endeavor before even considering asking permission — About the very first Quidditch match of the Year. To go and spend a day with friends, with no fuss or worry about studies, just for one day… It was not so much about the game itself, but it was the fact that it was a sort of commune, which was something she had never had before. Also, it was something father had never had before, or so she thought. Above all, she was looking forward to it, so this mid-term exam would also be her entry into Professor Flitwick's Charm Club in her second year, was just as exciting. After such a bumpy start, things were feeling as though they were truly looking up.

Since a few nightly talks and meetings here and there, Lyra basically let her surrogate alone, knowing that he enjoyed a fine amount of solitude. Her mission of earning his trust was tedious, but she was far from giving up.

With the added stress of that, amidst all these exams, she was greatly thankful for these extra study hours. While the Great Hall was the most popular social place, there were other spare classroom chambers that were regularly used as more private areas to be in order to stay focused. This was a delicate, important time and teachers among tutors were extra picky.

After all that talk about strawberries and mixing up a few tables amongst Houses, certain practices were settled into her mind well and good, and as soon as a nice meal was had, then it would be time to rest for a little bit. In all honestly, her neck and shoulders were beginning to hurt, no doubt, from being hunched over for so long.

Adjusting through this year, Lyra honestly missed the quiet safety of that old little brick house in Spinner's End. Prince would lecture LouLou about certain lessons to be set in place while he was away, working, and the song of the constant rainfall would keep her mind sharp towards each word she read and absorbed. Whereas here, the ongoing murmur, guffaws, and gabble echoing through the nooks and crannies often proved a challange at times. No matter, she was all right with it so far. Honestly, she was beginning to have this sort of fondness towards the ongoing ambiance of the endless halls and niches. An incredible maze of ancient stone housing all of them, student and mentor, beneath her wings.

To be able to learn all this, during such trying times, being lazy was never an option. Her life, finding something to do in one cramped, however, quiet household, Lyra was always provided with things to do; things to keep her head in order through those devastatingly long hours. As some students would complain about the simple three-inch-long worth of essays each week, she was able to get longer done the same day, by the fire, as a good thought process struck her.

It was the possible outcome of having a literal Professor as a parent, of which a few were obviously a little envious of. Well, with that said, if it was that simple as they believed it to be, she would do what she could to assist with Rebecca's dilemma. It sounded though that the entire Hogwart's staff were in on the matter, so much so that she was inclined of thanking them, mainly the man who made it all possible to go through as easily as possible. Just as it was so during her horrid nightmare-filled nights, of restful potions and gently sung songs.

Only a couple of hours had passed, of course. Everything felt and went normally as any evening, a hearty meal to end it all in the Grand Hall, indeed. The Gryffindor Common Room was as silent as winter, with snores and yawns from every inch of the tower. It was inevitable that she had to sleep with the rest of them. The castle had her own sounds and moods, that was enough to send the entire world to sleep. As Spinner's End was often quiet, this was just perfect enough to help settle her mind a bit - better to keep some thoughts away and focus on the more positive ones. However, she had this ongoing feeling in her stomach, of that normal anxiety that came with the anticipation of standing in front of a large crowd. With that, she was certain to see another one of her guardian's visions…
Lo, and behold… She was not mistaken.

The air was thin as she breathed, and she felt as though she was breaking into a cold sweat. Soon, instead of hearing voices, Lyra found that she could see, and she found herself in a massive space. It was a heavily darkened corridor, and in its embrace came a chorus of voices, singing an ancient tune… Torches lit upon their own accord, as it were, prompting the child to follow them deeper into the cavern. Lyra tried to blink herself awake or to bite down on her own lip in order to be free of this befuddlement. However, no matter what she tried, she had no choice but to move forward. Again, she felt his very deep root tug within her heart, which then welled tight with sadness and strife. Feeling brave, Lyra pushed on, knowing what this could mean, even at the slightest.

It was then suddenly when she heard a voice.
A slithery voice in the wall —

Lyra shot up in her bunk, with a shrill gasp, thus finding that her heart was beating harshly against her chest. At first, she did not know what to make of it, however the first thing that worried her more was how deeply rooted the burning on her arm was. It was as if someone just stuck her with a fire pick. When things just happened to feel safer, a single dream had to dash it all out the window~ A pure detailed story of her life. A hidden chamber, a voice in the wall, that which sounded close to a snake's hiss and no other thing would make her mistake it. Also, how to come about this without stirring up a scene… and above all, does he even know right now? Was this linked to what happened with the young unicorn?

Her Sire. His words were true, none of this was a game and they were certainly getting too comfortable. Well, at the very least, she was getting too comfortable. She could very well have tried to ignore the fact that Prince was subtly checking in, however, it was for this reason of exactly why he was checking whilst keeping his distance. Her ring began to feel justly cold. All very well it all was, that it made her sleepless once more and it would have gotten harder if it were not for that little *pop* down in the Common Room below the bunk floors.

It was not enough to wake her bunkmates but she certainly recognized such a sound, and quietly made her way down the stony stairs. Oh why did these dreams always have to shatter this new reality so easily, when she was just becoming truly enamored by her new home? Lyra remained calm and she was greeted by her motherly friend, Lou Lou.

"Good evening, I hope, Lou?" Lyra asked as she wrapped her robe more firmly about herself. Her Mark kept stinging long after waking.

" ~ooh, my dearest, yes, indeed, it was … previously a good evening. But Prince worries, miss. He has sent me to inquire of you. Also, do come as you are. I will bring your school robes for the morning."

"All right. It is because I had another dream, is that right?"

"Indeed, miss."

All Lyra could reciprocate was to sigh to let all that tensity out of her shoulders. She was requested to have an audience with her Sire, even at this time of night. She was his daughter, and no more than that and no less. Obeying what she had been told by the timid elf, she was then taken quickly down to the place in the dungeons where his personal quarters were meant to be. Amidst the rocky pillars and endless corridors overlit with torches, there were two of them that sported blue flames. The generous offer of one intellectual painting had helped lead them down that low beneath the castle, as the simple rule was known that no one could not apparate within it unless they were an elf, who had special privileges and jobs around the school that required such transportation.

With no doubt, Lyra did not need to knock on the door for it opened right when she stopped at the foot of it. No words were exchanged, but only looks, and soon Prince stepped aside to let her in. The door was shut, then magically locked. Lyra was not sure how to make of it at first. Prince's frock was off and all he wore on this solemn night was one plainly white long-sleeved nightshirt along with his typical trousers without a belt, as he was without his often tightened cravat, with his disorderly hair remaining uncombed, this was a sight no one has ever seen him in. So vulnerable when the moon was so high. No doubt, as soon as they were both safe inside these quarters, he greeted her finally with one embrace, with no kiss given yet he nuzzled the top of her head, in silent distress. This was proof that she was sound and safe, by his side, like all those 11 solid years.

Lyra felt the shade of darkness over her eyes, seeing the quarters in a dark light. There was a heightened window above a d bed that let in the moonlight just right, with an aged fireplace beside them. There were scenic paintings about. Not one held a face… which told her that they were in complete privacy, even from the portraits. There was only one, by the door, which was a portrait of one frail looking young woman, with ebony long hair, staring sorrowfully towards the right and had not moved once. It was just an ordinary painting.

Lou Lou soon joined them and she saw that glow of thanks brightening from his eyes…

"Father." Lyra began, breaking the silence.

"I had to be justly sure that my mind wasn't plaguing me…" he responded, his voice sounded exhausted.

"Did you suffer the s-same dream…?" she had to ask, finally wrapping her arms about him, resting her ear against his pounding chest.

"Regrettably, dear girl."

"I was going to tell you ~"

"I know you would, child."

Gladly, it was nearing weekends to make up for lost sleep, as they were as sleepless as owls. For a moment, over a cup of soothing tea by the fire, Lyra sat across from him wrapped in a Slytherin green blanket. All the while, Prince's eyes were locked on the flames, as he twirled his silver band delicately in his left hand. He had hardly touched his tea, unlike her. Even in this overbearing silence, she caught onto his distress~ feeling the air almost thicken and the fire seemed to die down a little with each passing breath.

Sad, she reached over gently and took his hand, a gesture he reciprocated back, rubbing his potion gruff thumb over the soft as flower skin of the top of her hand.

"You have been awfully quiet, sire," she bravely broke the thick silence of the room. "…please, do tell me what is the matter. You haven't uttered a word…" Lyra slowly spoke her heart.

As if upon her earnest wish, he locked his dark eyes with hers, suffering through some kind of inner battle. Soon, the painful wait ended when he spoke.

"You had beheld a chamber. Have you not?" he asked.

"I was in a chamber," she answered. "I was not sure where though."

"…and the voice." he slyly added.

"A voice that came from a wall. A hissing voice…"

At that, Prince appeared rather defeated, downtrodden, no doubt, with that whole shadow of severity over his hooded eyes, nonetheless. "As you could very well understand, Lyra, that until I relay this to the Headmaster, that it would be of precious importance that you make a home in here because we have no room for errors from this point on. Do you understand, young lady?"

"Father, I —I will not argue against that." Lyra wanted to sink and become one with her chair. "But, sir, all I want to know what that voice was… Could it be~ Him?"

"I cannot tell you." was the blunt answer. "But what I can tell you is consisting of those conversations we had detailing the complexities of Occlumency. This year has bled on, but it has not been forgotten about."

"I've dread about it."

"So have I…" Prince looked to the fire, full of remorse and heaviness. "Do not think for one solid moment that I enjoy these candlelit musings, Lyra. We have to consider those possibilities~ He is wily enough to get through into our heads when we least expect it. If I have learned anything…"

"So… was it you who dreamed of it first? It was not just me?"

"No, it was not just you. These passerby visions, they are birthed from a waking mind, his presence haunts the castle and there is one who never sleeps. Professor Quirrell had neared the guarding portrait of the Gryffindor dormitory and had stood there for quite some time. If it were not for Filch's wonderings, neither McGonagall and I would have known just in time. My attitude has its reasons of staying put, dear girl~ I desire your presence to be close to mine. As much as possible. Professor Dumbledore wishes of me to clue you in, of protection of sorts. An enchantment…"

"An enchantment?" Lyra rose her brow.

"It is of his personal creation, however, it has to be done willingly. It is so named… Clama InVeniam~ Simply, it speaks only as, Weep out to me, and I will find you…"

"That sounds very beautiful…" Lyra remarked.

"In it's own right, yes." Prince hummed before the two were thrown into another brood.

"It only makes me wonder further, that whatever we were dreading before~ It is bound to come true sooner or later. If we need to have a spell, of all things, put on us."

"To be frank, it is nothing compared to our situation at large…" she overheard him drawl.

". . . I will go through anything that we need to do, as long as you are with me." Lyra's voice was becoming smaller by each word.

He appeared to be looking at her very peculiarly, with a newness. Did it come off to her properly as pride? It was just like spying the moonlight sneaking through the trees, which would make her heart rise with hope.

"Despite all toils, and to think that you are the same little lass who used to cling upon hearing a shred of honest thunder," he began, seeming very soft-spoken. Melancholy then ruled his aged features before he set his cup upon the book table, pained of having to say something, which gave that ever sharpening chill in her chest.

"I find myself in the middle of a conundrum, Lyra, between the Headmaster himself, and I. Due to thefts from my own stores, it is apparent that we are dealing with a dangerous individual. We are working endlessly for the safety of our students, without rousing alarm, but my fears and worries have been met… It would grant me more peace of mind that you, as my charge, remain under my eye. I have spoken to your teachers on your behalf that this is to take effect as soon as possible. During this, we will begin these magical lessons in privacy all through the remainder of this term, and onward."

"Sir, you are frightening me," Lyra spoke, her green eyes unblinkingly focused on his.

"Perhaps, it is doing you good, to instill some fear in you. Maybe you will steer clear, as you were previously told. It is not only my duty to protect you… It is my deepest choice to keep on this grisly path we call life. Lyra, you have been working devastatingly hard to earn my trust…however, certainly you must realize, it was never you whom I couldn't bring myself to trust. It is this world that has kept it dashed…"

"Father…" Lyra's voice faltered softly. "B-but I trust you, and always will… I cannot be more sorry about how this year started. You've told me everything I needed to know but I misstepped so much, yet you are loving me still."

"I will always love you…"

At that, Lyra emotionally began to twirl her hair in her hands. The world had disgraced him, and in no way did she want to be a part of that. Beyond that, he had been using Occlumency to shut down recently, which hurt her to have to witness, and none of it was her fault. Above all, it was being done to keep her, all of them, safe. Tears began to latch to her eyelashes, prompting him to come silently and hush in her ear.

"Oh, my little fawn," he hummed, slowly having her head rest against his shoulder. Right there, she cried for a solid moment into him.

"I'll do it." she choked, finally. "This spell, I'll do it."

The tiny clock then struck midnight. At this given time, he only held her, too pained as well to have to go through those lessons that were to become more difficult by the day. At least there was magic to bring assistance along the bumpy way. So many loving emotions were coursing through his mind as strong as Amortentia. Once believing this one choice for Lily's memory would be his curse, his faith on that was beginning to meld to believe this turning into such a beautiful blessing to the point that he could never bear seeing her tears. This was no longer a matter of the Greater Good, as Dumbledore often would put it.