Scala ad Caelum

by GRND

Ages ago, a wizard known as Herpo the Foul defied Death and doomed the world and those who were yet to be born. His ambition was put to an end, yet briefly, for the events of the past are bound to happen again as the ages come and go. It is in the present age, as Voldemort's reign of terror is deemed as over, that the Wizarding World would understand the story had yet to finish.

42. Chapter 38 - The First Counselor

Chapter 38 - The First Counselor

The Great Hall looked as colourful as ever; a picture in which four colours, one for each House, seemed to compete against one another, let it be in the banners which hung from the ceiling or in the robes the students wore.

The first feast of the year always managed to draw a bright smile on Hermione's face; no matter how good her summer had been, Hogwarts and the Wizarding World could not be compared to anything at all. And many thought like her, even if the long awaited food seemed to make them impatient. However, it was time for the Sorting Ceremony to take place, in which the new students would have to choose a new House, and no one could do a thing but wait for it to finish.

And just at that moment Professor McGonagall strode into the Great Hall with a bunch of children behind her, like a line of lost ants which made their way back to the nest. Some were taller, their heads rising higher than the rest, others looked confident enough, gaze set on the way ahead of them, and just a few felt relaxed enough to share words between them. Yet they all shared that same glint in their eyes, that of excitement. A constant whisper accompanied the newcomers until they stopped right in front of the Sorting Hat. From her spot, Hermione could hear how the Weasley twins were already discussing their future victims—honestly, would they ever drop that childish and immature behaviour of theirs?

For the first time in her life, Hermione recognised one of the new students. Tracey's brother, Marc, fitted the description she had been given. On top of that, that boy was a copy of his sister but of a different gender. Also, there was some blond girl who looked oddly familiar. Perhaps, it was because of those cold, blue eyes of hers that looked at the Sorting Hat as if it was a prey, or maybe due to how proud she held herself. Without a doubt, Slytherin had already recruited a new member.

"They seem so small," Neville muttered by her side. "And scared, too. Were we like them back in our Sorting? I mean, I almost fainted that day, but you guys looked much more in control."

"It was a miracle that I didn't throw up," Harry huffed in response, though he looked fairly amused. "Mate, I swear I thought we needed to wrestle with a troll to get sorted! I doubt any of these newbies are as lost as I was back in our day."

Two years had already passed since her first night at Hogwarts, but it was a memory Hermione would never forget, no matter how long that would be. To say she had been scared and nervous was an understatement, even when she understood all that needed to be done was to place a talkative hat above her head. "We definitely looked like that," the girl said. "Even worse, if I may add." Though much had happened since them; time and experiences which had changed them, for the better or the worse. Neither Harry nor Neville were a pair of scrawny kids anymore, and Hermione liked to think that she had also changed, that she had become much better at making friends.

All the conversations came to an end the moment McGongall's amplified voice rumbled through the Great Hall. "Albritte, Derek!"

A short boy of brown, curly hair was the first to take on the Hat, which did not take long to sort him. "Slytherin!" It shouted after a few seconds of silence. The table of the snakes clapped at his arrival, and the freshly appointed Head-Boy, that arrogant yet considerate wizard by the name of Daniel Williams, shook his hand as a sign of welcome.

More students came, and the Sorting Ceremony turned into a monotone process; though there were some exceptions. Marc Davis, much to Hermione's surprise, was sorted into Gryffindor—with a quick look at Tracey, who was sat by Ron's side, Hermione found out that she did not give away any hint of surprise, and that all which could be seen in her face was a warm smile. Then, right after Marc, came a blond girl of grey eyes whose sorting became the longest by a large margin—her name was Sophie Dorian, and it took her three minutes to be announced as a new Ravenclaw. On the contrary, it was the proud girl who had caught her eye who would hold the title of the quickest to be sorted—the Hat only had to grace her head to announce Astoria Greengrass as a new Slytherin.

When the ceremony ended and the new students were already surrounded by their new colleagues, seconds before all the plates were filled with food and the glasses with different beverages, Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet and cleared his throat. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Now, I'm very well aware of the fact you all are starving, but, please, allow this old man to ramble a bit on this special night. First of all, I wanted to welcome the new students—I'm sure you will feel at home in no time at all! Secondly, there are some new faces I'm static to introduce. Starting with one you already know, I'm very proud to announce Hagrid, our loyal gatekeeper, as the new Professor of Care of Magical Creatures." At that moment, Hermione understood many things about the Monster Book—and so did many others, for very few clapped at the announcement except for a few Gryffindors and Ron. "Hagrid is one of the most versed individuals about nature and its creatures, and I'm sure his knowledge and experience will help you greatly."

"Then we have our new Professor of Defence, Remus Lupin." The said wizard suddenly rose from his chair. He was a tall, thin man, with light-brown hair full of grey strands. His face looked oddly tired, with prominent bags under the eyes, which along his shabby, old robes, did not grant him the appearance of a Professor. "Remus is an old acquaintance of mine, whose knowledge about the subject, both practical and theoretical, is second to none. I'm sure you will all come to appreciate both his work and kind character." This time, way more students joined the clapping, enough to make it up for the lack of enthusiasm that came from the Slytherin table.

The Headmaster was about to take the word again, but someone else beat him to it—a short woman who wore full pink and whose features remembered Hermione of a toad. "Oh, no," Harry muttered by her side. "Not you again…" Hermione sent him an inquiring look, but the boy ignored her.

"Hello, my dear children," she started with a high-pitched voice which triumphed over all sources of sound. The witch walked forward and left the Headmaster at her back. "My name is Dolores Umbridge, and I have the honour to have been appointed as the First Counselor of Hogwarts by the very Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself." She made a brief stop to smile at them all; it was not a warm gesture, there was no doubt of that. "The last year was a difficult one for all of you—the threat of the Heir of Slytherin rose and the Chamber of Secrets became all that mattered. No children of your age should ever live through that, and the Ministry has taken it to the heart. I owe you all an apology, for we could not erase that evil soon enough. However, it was long ago when we learnt that there was no other way to move forward from a mistake than to learn from them. And that is what we did. Hogwarts is the pride of this country, its heart and soul, and its students are the next generation of wizards and witches who, one day, will take the reins of this country. Because of that and many more reasons, I shall, no, I must see that your education is as perfect as it can be. That is all I have to say for today. I truly hope that you see me as a friend, one who can be trusted with your problems, because I will do my best to help you all."

The woman finished her speech, and this time no soul clapped at her—everyone was too surprised to do it. It didn't seem to bother Umbridge, who just walked back to her seat, allowing the Headmaster to speak once again.

"The hell was that?" Neville suddenly asked. A hundred whispers came from the many conversations which had just been started across the four tables, yet no word could be understood; it was more of a faint echo.

"That was a declaration of intentions," Hermione began with a sour voice. Suddenly, countless plates appeared over the table, their nice scent filling the place and silencing many students. Honestly, she had lost the appetite—it was yet to see if that woman and the Ministry truly meant the goodness their words had sworn, but, to her, it was pretty clear that this would be another eventful year. It was the last thing she needed after having taken all the electives. Was a year of peace such an impossible thing to ask for? Hermione could already feel the many headaches she will be suffering this year.

"Yeah," Harry cut in with a cold voice. His eyes were set on the First Counselor, and it was not a friendly look that they showed. It was pretty clear those two had previously met; she would inquire about it later, perhaps when Ron was around. Yes, that would make Harry more open to talk. "The Minister fears Dumbledore, and that hellish witch is his weapon against him."

Hermione rose her eyes from a dish she had been about to taste, very surprised, in search of Harry's. Yet the boy's gaze was set on his food and no word came out of him. Neville also looked a bit freaked out, his face a tad paler than usual.

Indeed, Hermione would never enjoy a year of peace to focus on her studies!

---

By the time the feast ended, Ron was sure he had eaten as much food as his stomach could host. Certainly, he felt tired and heavy enough to sleep on the cold floor of the corridor. I should have stopped sooner. There is much to be done before the curfew. The redhead walked by Tracey's side, at the back of a line led by Daniel Williams, the newly appointed Head-Boy, towards the common room.

Now it all made sense, but back then it had been a huge surprise to know someone had stolen the title Percy had always desired so fervently. On the one hand, Ron felt very sorry for his brother, who had been gutted, to a point in which he had spent three days jailed in his bedroom. But on the other hand, Daniel Williams was a good lad who had played a key role in the fight against the Heir of Slytherin and who had always helped Ron.

Well, life was tough and unpredictable—no matter how hard one tried to pursue his ambitions, there was nothing granted. Effort was the first step of the road, but it could only take one so far. After all, Ron had learnt that the tough way.

"Honestly, I knew Marc was not going to be sorted into Slytherin, but, well, I just did not expect him to be a lion," Tracey continued. Oh, right. The conversation was about her little brother. Definitely, Ron should not have eaten so much. "I mean, I'm very happy for him, and I think he will find nice friends there, but I hope they don't give him much trouble because of me."

"They won't," Ron reassured her. "Of course, Gryffindor hates Slytherin, and Slytherin hates Gryffindor, and that will never change. However, many students look at us with different eyes now, even those lions. They know that among the many bigots who dress in silver and green there are good people. Like you or me, or even like Daniel, who has become a celebrity since his involvement in the Chamber became known." The Head-Boy had always been an arrogant bastard, but now his ego had reached unbelievable levels—and that irked Ron greatly, for the presumptuous Head-Boy did not need more fame. Was it not enough to be talented, good-looking and intelligent? Indeed, life was not fair. "Anyhow, he will be okay. Harry and the rest will see to it." Ron would also need to have a chat with the twins, but that was a piece of information Tracey did not need to know.

Finally, they made it to the entrance of the common room, that large and polished door of dark wood embedded into the grey wall of the dungeons.

"Everyone, hear me out!" Daniel got their attention with just a few words. There was no trace of the first-years, who surely were being shown the castle by a fifth-year Prefect, and many of the older students were nowhere to be found. Still, there were plenty of eyes observing Daniel. "The first password of the year is: Salazar." Behind him, the two planks of wood got sucked into the wall, and the greenish illumination of the common room seeped through the door. "The story is the same as every other year; the password will change every two weeks, or in case some unfortunate accident happens—may God save the bastard who caused the mess if it ever comes to that. Anyhow, on a happier tone, it's good to see you all again—some faces more than others, of course—but as you must know, this will be my last year here. I don't wanna pester you on the first day of the year, but I expect you all to give the newbies a warm welcome and to do your best so we can lift the House Cup another year. That's all I have to say—I won't steal more of your free time, just be sure to be back before your respective curfew."

That being said, Daniel was the first to enter the common room, and many followed him. Ron's eyes were stuck on Blaise's back, who had not even spoken a word to them, as he made his way inside. Malfoy's blond mop of hair also caught his attention; as per usual, Crabbe and Goyle, ever the loyal buffoons, stuck to his shadow. There was no trace of Pansy Parkinson nor of Millicent Bulstrode, he reckoned. Well, not that I care about any of them.

"Let's get on the move," Tracey said, nudging him. "This year, our curfew was increased by one hour, but the Seventh Courtyard is far from the dungeons. I'm sure Hermione and the others are already waiting for us."

True, they all had agreed to meet tonight; summer had been long and there were many things to talk about. And even though Ron was quite tired and wanted to throw himself onto the bed, there were a few things which needed to be discussed; serious matters. The redhead was really curious about Harry's fight with his muggle relatives. From what little his father had told them, Harry had been quite lucky with the lack of punishment he had received. To think he turned his aunt into a human balloon was enough to draw the hint of a smile on his face—it was such a cool way to deal with those abusive relatives.

There also was that new individual, Dolores Umbridge. Ron was not one to judge others on first impressions, but that witch had given him goosebumps. To be exact, that fake smile of hers. "You are right," he nodded in response. "We better be on our way, then. I don't really wanna face detention within the first hours of the year. Hell, I think that would even break the twins' record."

The way up was a long, monotone walk through deserted corridors and moving staircases; corridors Ron had walked through countless times. Tracey did her best to fill the soundless atmosphere with anecdotes from her summer, and Ron piped in from time to time; his summer had been much more boring than hers. At some point of the walk, they crossed paths with Adrian Pucey and the first years he was touring around. The Prefect just nodded his head at them as a salute, and Ron mirrored it back—Pucey was the only player in the Quidditch team who had a sense of fair play.

There was one girl whose eyes wanted to stare through his soul, and it made Ron rather uncomfortable. Daphne's sister, Astoria, was even worse than her! "What can you tell me about Astoria Greengrass?" The redhead asked once they hoped onto another staircase; the last one, if it dropped them at the supposed place. "I swear she wanted to glare a hole through my chest!"

"I saw it," Tracey snorted in response. "She and Daphne are quite alike, though Astoria has always been more…, let's say, difficult to be around. When there is no one around—adults, to be precise—she is kind of goofy and playful, but she turns into a different person out of that. Did you think Daphne was snooty and prideful when you first met her? Well, then you are in for a wild ride with Astoria Greengrass. And now that Daphne is out of the picture, she'll probably walk around the castle as if she owned it. It ain't just the shoes of her Great House that she has to fill, but also her sister's. Astoria is the younger daughter of lord Thomas, but she has always felt the need to prove to her parents that she's better than Daphne at everything. And trust me, she's ready to use every weapon at her disposal, no matter which it may be. After all, in the pureblood bubble, there is a great difference of privileges and status between the heir or heiress of a House and the other sons."

The mention of their blond friend, who had gone to another school without even saying a word of farewell to them, was enough to draw a sad grimace on Tracey's face. It also gave Ron a brief headache—why on earth did pureblood families have to be so complicated? I was just like Astoria a few years ago. To surpass my brothers was all I wanted. That realisation hit him like a bludger on the back; enough to leave him breathless for a few instants. Hell, Tom had used that sentiment, one the redhead thought to be long buried, to manipulate him. It was not just a matter of pureblood relationships. That was a problem of my old self. I need to be better, colder, if I want to win and protect my people. I must not falter.

Once the staircase dropped them on the correct corridor, Ron shook his head to clear it from any depressing thought. He needed to be colder and better, yes, but life was more than that—his family, friends and Hogwarts were the beautiful parts of his life, and they needed to be preserved. Through their Link, Ron felt a diffuse emotion coming from Gerdnyaram—did she relate to him? That bloody woman had disappeared as soon as the redhead had hopped onto the train, in order to give him a bit of privacy with his friends, but her presence was a constant in his life. Faint, but it was always there, at the back of his mind.

It was at that moment when a streak of cool breeze hit him right in the face, and Ron realised they had finally reached their destiny. The Seventh Courtyard was a somehow hidden place only Gryffindors used, mainly because it was built on their level, the seventh, near their Tower. It was a large balcony covered by a curved ceiling of polished, brownish stone. There were some benches around, and plenty of flowers and plants over the grassy ground, but what really made the place so special was its great views towards the Lake and the castle's outdoors. At the end of the balcony there was a large railing which went up to Hermione's chest, who was leaning over it at that moment, with Neville by her side. Harry, however, was sat atop of it, his legs dangling out of the balcony.

It was Neville the one to spot them first. "Hello there," he smiled.

"Hey," Ron greeted back with a wave of his hand. "This place is nice. Why don't we have something similar near our common room?"

"Perhaps, because we live in some dungeons under the Lake?" Tracey answered as she made her way towards the handrail. "Don't get me wrong. I really like our common room, but sometimes I miss fresh air. Well, anyhow, who cares about that? It's time for a round of quick questions! Come on, tell me which electives have you picked. Mine are Care of Magical Beasts and Divination. I believe we share the first one with the Gryffindors, and the second with the Ravenclaws."

Ron snorted as he took a seat on the nearest bench; why would he choose to stand up where there were so many empty seats around? To be fair, Harry also seemed to share that idea, but the redhead was not mad enough to sit over the handrail. "I took Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes." The lions sent him a weird look. "Eh, don't be like that. Ancient Runes sounded interesting enough; more than the others, at least. Besides, there was no way in hell I was gonna pick Divination." Ron had already had enough experiences with the future for a hundred lives, damned be Gerdnyaram and her bloody Great Sight. "No, not at all."

"Neville and I took Magical Creatures and Divination," Harry answered. "We asked the twins and they told us those were the easier electives. In their words, they are boring like the job of a seeker, yet easier than shitting gold for a Malfoy." He smiled at that, which made Hermione send him a sour look. Ron also snorted, amused, and it granted him another sour stare. That girl and her notion about education would never change! "The fact Hagrid is one of the Professors is just a bonus."

"I'm very well aware of the fact I don't know the gatekeeper like you all do, but, dear Merlin, why would he ever choose such a weird book?" Tracey complained. "I swear it tried to bite me a hundred times before I managed to lock it in my vault!"

"Just a hundred, you say?" Neville piped in with an ironic huff. "In my case, there were a thousand tries! And the bastard managed to hit flesh in a fair amount of them!"

"Hagrid knows what he's doing," Harry cut in; his voice sounded rather confident. He was the one who knew Hagrid the most. Perhaps, could his book have been tamed before being handed to the boy? That would explain why there was not an ounce of mistrust in his voice. "Okay, we all know he has a rather…, peculiar sense of what danger means. And we also know he does not share the same opinion as everyone else in regards to which creatures are dangerous enough to take a hundred steps away from them. I mean, do you remember Norbert? Or Fluffy?" For a moment, he became silent and sent an alarmed look at Tracey. "Ehm, don't mind what I just said."

"Oh, come on!" Tracey snorted in response. "I know about Norbert the dragon and Fluffy the three-headed dog. Hermione told me about them this summer. I have to say that, despite being a huge fan of adventures and night escapades through the castle, I do not envy you. I would have wetted my pants had I encountered one of those beasts!"

Harry looked a bit puzzled, though he quickly snapped out of it. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Welcome to the group—officially, that's it. You already know about all the messes we've gotten ourselves into. I would say that I hope there will not be any more of them, but we all know that's not how our life works."

The group fell into a weird silence, and it was Hermione who broke it in a rather violent way. "I've taken all the electives," she just said.

Harry almost fell down the handrail, had it not been thanks to Tracey's help, who managed to take a hold of his robes. On his behalf, Ron could do nothing but stare at the bushy-haired girl. "Excuse me," he sputtered. "You what?"

"I've taken all the electives," she repeated, a bit embarrassed yet still with a calm voice. "To me, they all sounded incredibly fascinating, so I asked Professor McGonagall about it, and she told me that, with the adequate measures, it was plausible. I don't think it is such a weird thing. In fact, your brother Percy also took all the electives a few years ago."

All in truth, his brother might have said something about it back then. Still, it was madness! "You could be right, but I mean… It's Percy. He's that kind of person."

"And what kind of person is that, Ronald?"

Ron had screwed it up, he was sure of that. Fortunately, Tracey came in his aid. "Which are those adequate measures you have just mentioned?" The girl asked, curious and amused in equal measure.

"Well, they are nothing special, to be honest. Since some subjects share periods, like Divination and Runes, I am allowed to not attend one of them in favour of the other. I will be rotating the electives so I miss as little as possible. Obviously, I will still fall behind, and so I will need to do loads of study by myself on the weekends. I'm also allowed to attend other periods—for example, on Tuesdays, when we ,Gryffindors, don't have any classes in the afternoon, I can attend Divination or Arithmancy with Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Of course, all the Professors are aware of my situation, and I have been given their consent."

Ron could not do a thing but to whistle in response, impressed. "Do you reckon how many hours you're gonna need to spend with your nose buried into a book?" He asked. "Because I just cannot imagine it."

Hermione just shrugged it off. "It's worth the effort, so I don't really care. Since I entered this world, all I've wanted to do was to become the best witch I could, to know as much as magic as there is of it. The basic subjects are the main pillars of magical knowledge, but if I want to achieve my dreams, I need to go harder than everyone else. All I wanna do when I'm older is to look back and be happy with all the sacrifices I made. All I wanna do right now is to prove those pureblood bigots who do not believe that us, muggle-borns, deserve to live in this world every bit as they do."

Indeed, no one could say she wasn't a resolute girl.

"As if you hadn't proved it yet," Neville huffed. "I bet Malfoy and his ilk envy your wits and courage, Hermione. In secret, of course, so their even stupider parents don't think low of them, but I bet they do. Hell, even if they like to deny it, my blood is just as pure as theirs, and I'm very proud to say that I do envy you, Hermione." Those words set all the eyes on his figure, which was enough to redden his cheeks a little.

On the contrary, that fire within Neville's boy was not a familiar sight. Although it was true he wasn't as shy and cowardly as he had been back during their first year, this attitude of his was a radical change. A very welcomed change, in Ron's opinion—only Merlin knew how much did Malfoy and his goons like to pick on people weaker than them.

"Did you have any nasty encounters with them recently?" Tracey asked.

"I sort of bumped into them in the train, before I could find our cabin," the boy replied with a thoughtful voice. "I wouldn't call it an encounter, though. To be honest, only Crabbe and Goyle tried to intimidate me. Much to my surprise, and also to those gorillas, Malfoy just ignored me as if was part of the wooden wall. Not a word, not a glance. Not gonna lie, I was so shocked that I was left rooted to the spot for an entire minute. And I only snapped out of it because Ginny found me."

Those words only confirmed a theory Ron had built over the past year—because of one reason or other, Draco Malfoy had changed. Not for the better and neither for the worse, but it still was a change. Unlike the brainless bigot who had caused Ron a fair amount of headaches, this new version of him just refused to get himself in trouble. To him, a condescending glare and some foul thoughts must have been enough. "I think both Professor Snape and Daniel Williams snapped a bit of reality into his head in a rather tough way, back during our first year," the redhead said, instead. "I had my fair share of problems with him, but his attitude was far worse since he was the one to start all the fights. Whatever they did, it worked, because that blond rat never came at me again. I was so happy that I just accepted it and gave no second thought to that matter."

"Well, whatever happened to him, I don't care," Harry said as he jumped down from the handrail. "But I do care about other matters. There might be a new person to worry about. What do you guys think about Dolores Umbridge, the self-proclaimed First Counselor?"

"I didn't like her voice, so acute and childish" Tracey piped in. "And those pink robes of hers were awful, enough to hurt my eyes."

Both Neville and Ron nodded in agreement, yet it was Hermione who took the word. "I saw your face during her speech, Harry. You already knew her—you already disliked her, better said."

The bells rang in Ron's head. He then remembered the story his father had told them, the one in which Harry had turned one of his muggle relatives into a human balloon. To solve it, the Ministry's intervention had been needed, yet no grave sanction had been applied to the boy despite the gravity of the matter. However, it had been such a complicated and long summer, rather busy with Ginny's troubled mind and Gerdnyaram's tough lessons, that it was now when Ron gave it the importance it deserved. "You met her at the Ministry, right?" The redhead said. All the eyes fell over Harry, who just nodded in response. "I remember Percy saying something about her. Perhaps, that she was a woman of importance whom he wanted to learn from."

"She is the Minister's secretary, if I remember correctly," Harry went on. "Though that hardly matters here, and so does the reason I met her; that's a thing of the past. I'm gonna be quite blunt here: the Minister wants to find a way to control what happens at Hogwarts, and that hellish witch is his weapon. I don't know about what you think of this matter, but, in one way or another, it all screams trouble to me. I cannot give you a well reasoned explanation other than I don't like those two."

"Fudge sent Hagrid to Azkaban just because he needed a way out of all the fake promises he swore," Neville piped in. "Besides that, my grandmother speaks very foul of him. She might be quite harsh and strict, and even a bit crazy in some aspects, but I fully trust her words."

Ron shared that opinion—if first impressions were to be taken into account, that woman was cursed to be disliked by everyone. However, even if Harry had a bad feeling about her, this did not look as a problematic matter to the redhead. Voldemort and the Chamber had been real problems. That witch could only be a painful nuisance. "Well, we'll see what her plans are," Ron said as he stood up from the stone bench. The moon had already set itself atop of the dark sky, accompanied by countless stars, so the curfew was about to begin; serving detention on the first day of school was not something he looked forward to. "Come on, Tracey, we need to go. Otherwise, we'll spend the entire week cleaning those damned cauldrons."

"Wait," Harry cut in, a bit perplexed. "That's all you are gonna say? Really?"

"Yes," Ron answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know about you, but after all that happened in the past two years, I will be pretty damn happy if Dolores Umbridge is all we need to worry about. First Counselor or whatever title she uses, it's still a thousand times better than the Chamber of Secrets." A few weeks ago, in Diagon Alley, Daniel had told him that he had seen many weird people trying to speak foul of the very Albus Dumbledore, and that, probably, the Minister had something to do with it. If this was his way of fighting, his way of trying to make the people hate the Headmaster, then Fudge was in for a huge disappointment. Ha, to think one could go against Dumbledore! How delusional could a man be? "Besides, it cannot be worse than Lockhart, right? May his soul rest in peace, by the way."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I agree with Ron here," Tracey said, and even Nevilled seemed to hum to those words. "To be fair, what's the worst she can do?"

"Honestly, I think it is a really concerning matter, but in a different way," Hermione cut in. "I mean, this woman could ruin our education!" Everyone rolled their eyes at her words, but it did not stop her. In fact, it seemed to spur her even more. "This is serious! We have already lost two years in a very important subject like Defenceis! And this woman could ruin all of them!" She took a relaxing breath, which didn't take away the murderous look he sent at the boys. "However, I must say that Ron is right. No matter how much of a problem this woman turns out to be, she won't ever come close to the Chamber of Secrets and… Yes, to the Chamber and the Heir."

Good save there, Ron snorted to himself. Tracey was their friend and a member of their group, but she had yet to know about the Stone and Voldemort. Not because they did not trust her, but for her own safety. The less people knew about it, the better.

"If you put it that way…" Harry went on, though in a much lower voice this time, almost like a mumble to himself. Yet that changed by the next second. "Still, I will keep an eye on her. There is something wrong with that woman. I just know it."

Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. "We trust you, mate. We will all keep an eye on her, but, so far, things are not as serious as they were in other years, right? I think we deserve a year of bloody rest, don't we?"

Harry mouthed some unintelligible words in response, and Ron took it as words of agreement; or so he hoped, at least. In the end, the snakes and lions bid each other farewell for the night. The road back to the dungeons was a long one, and not only did it need to be done quickly, but also in silence, for the Prefects must have already started to patrol the corridors, in search of those nosey students who just refused to accept the rules.

It all went rather smoothly, but, of course, luck was not on their side; as per usual. About to turn into one of the last corners, Ron came to a halt so suddenly that Tracey almost pierced a hole through his back with her nose. The girl was about to complain, but she thought twice. "Who is it?" She whispered. "Is it Snape? Oh, Merlin, don't tell me it's him." But there was no one around the corner—not someone she could see, at least.

At the end of the corridor stood Gerdnyaram, that little woman who shone with an ethereal blue gleam, enough to make her stand out despite her small size. Her eyes found Ron's blue irises with no trouble, and their Link transmitted a sense of urgency. Gulping down a knot in his throat, the redhead managed to utter some words. "We are not in trouble. Look, I need you to go ahead and wait for me in the common room. This stupid brain of mine just remembered that my sister wanted to see me tonight. It is important, Tracey."

To lie to her felt awful, and it hurt even more to use such a profound matter—Tracey knew that Ginny had been left traumatised after the events of the Chamber, even if she had no answers to the why's of the how's. And it clearly showed in her green eyes. "Oh, I see. Well, if so, what are you waiting for? Go! But try to avoid getting caught. I don't think she would like that." The girl just squeezed his arm as a sign of support before walking into the corridor.

Definitely, it hurt more than the impact of a bludger to the shin.

Ron averted those thoughts from his mind and took his wand out. There were countless abandoned classrooms in the dungeons, which had not been used in decades. He only needed to go back a few corridors to find one, a rusty door where letters could not be read anymore. "Alohomora," he mused. Inside, he would be a bit safer.

Gerdnyaram only took a few seconds to follow him. The moment she got inside, Ron closed the door and casted a ball of light powerful enough to illuminate the entire room. She raised a brow at him, as if it had not taken him an entire summer to cast a non-verbal spell for the first time. "It gets easier each time," he shrugged it off. "Well, let's get straight to the point. What do you want?"

"There are some topics I want to discuss," the Essentia replied, not bothered by his lack of enthusiasm.

"Can't we talk about them tomorrow?"

"I would rather have them done right now, otherwise, we will not be able to focus on the more important things."

"Then, shoot."

"I've kept an eye on those two newcomers, Dolores Umbridge and Remus Lupin. I've followed every of their moves, and even listened to some of their conversations. To me, they seem to be very ordinary people."

This time it was Ron the one to raise a bro at her. "Really? Why did you do that? Any kind of sombre gut? Or was it the Great Sight."

The Essentia did not lose her patience. "As I've told you again and again, it was long ago when the Great Sight abandoned me. And no, none of them awoke some kind of sombre gut in me. This was a measure of precaution. Last year, we were fooled by a cursed diary and the people whose bodies it took over, and the previous one we were deceived by a man who carried the Dark One at the back of his head. It will not happen again."

"Okay, that's good news," Ron admitted. Now, he only needed to find a way to tell Harry about it—Merlin knew that boy needed a break just as much as Ron himself did. "Thank you, really. I was also planning to keep an eye on them, but if you say they are ordinary people, then that's all I need to know. I trust your judgement, Gerd."

"It is my duty, not yours alone" the Essentia went on, with no trace of softness in her voice. "However, I appreciate your trust and confidence. From now on, that task will be mine to deal with. You need to focus on your training, and also to live your life. It is unique and wonderful, so do not be a fool and waste it like I did with mine. Enjoy the company of your family and friends, rejoice in the wonders magic has to offer and gather as many experiences as you can. You must do it while our enemies allow us to, for their slumber will not be eternal. War and enemies must not be all you think about. You will lose your humanity if so, and that is all which differentiates you from them."

Regal and cold, Gerdnyaram was, yet traces of Gerd could still be seen in her. She had not been an illusion, just a very well-constructed lie, and like Daphne taught him long ago, the perfect lie was that which was built upon glimpses of truths. "I will." He just said.

"Good. Now, tell me, did you do what I asked you to do?"

Ron made a funny grimace; she was not going to like his answer. "I couldn't," the redhead defended himself. "It was just too much." The Essentia had tasked him to open his magical aura as soon as he stepped into Hogwarts, so he could learn to feel and differentiate the many forms of magic there, let it be from humans, creatures or even the castle itself and the enchantments it contained. However, he had only needed five seconds to realise it was too much—far too many sensations and stimulus. "I felt all I was supposed to, but it was too much, Gerd." Back at home, in solitude, it had been quite easy—if two years of failed attempts counted as easy, of course—to feel the magical auras from his family and those little creatures which lived around The Burrow. "It felt like a thousand needles poking their way into my mind. I had to shut it down."

"Understandable," she said, much to the boy's surprise. "To ask you for such a feat was my mistake. Instead, try to do it in class, where the number of auras you are going to feel is much lower. Try to analyse them one by one, to tell their differences and similarities."

"I can manage that." If not, he stood no chance against the monsters he would face in the future. The way to achieve real magical mastery, Gerd had told him. A technique way more important than any spell or curse ever created. Ron was about to ask her for advice, but a sudden yawn made its way out of him.

"Leave and rest, Ronald," Gerdnyaram told him. "It is late, and you've had a long day. We will be in contact, and every detail will be of importance, enough to share it with each other. Rest well." Just like that, she disappeared out of thin air in a rain of blue particles of light.

She's off to that strange world again. And to think she wanted to stay as far as possible from it a few months ago. Indeed, things had changed—whether it was for the better or worse had yet to be seen. However, that would be a matter for another day. All Ron wanted to do at that moment was to close his eyes and sleep. In his bed, preferably, and without being caught in his way to the common room.

---

Monday came, and it brought the first day of school with its dawn.

The early morning went by with no surprises—the students woke up and left for the Great Hall, where breakfast would be served. The third-years from Slytherin did not have class at first period, but, despite that, Ron still woke up quite early; an entire summer doing house chores in the early morning could do such damage to a person's schedule. Because of that, the table looked quite empty, though he only cared about one student in particular. Blaise Zabini was sitting at the other end of the table, as far from Ron as he could, and that bloody bastard refused to even look in his direction. It seemed that three months had not been enough for him to man up and apologise. Well, that was on him. Ron could no longer act as his caretaker, not when the future was so uncertain and dark.

The day started off quite slowly with a Charmsperiod shared between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. It had always been a very enjoyable subject, but this one class in particular seemed endless. Perhaps, it was because Ron had already mastered those spells from their last year which Flitwick wanted to revise, or maybe because all he wanted was for the afternoon to come, and with it, Remus Lupin's first class of Defence. For two straight years, what once had been his favourite subject had been trashed around by the hands of the past Professors, and even though the shabby wizard did not give Ron the best impression, third times were supposed to be the charm, right? Besides, he could not be worse than his two predecessors.

However, the day lit up in the second period. It seemed that, among all the subjects, Transfiguration would be the first one to blow their heads. Minerva McGonagall, as stern and serious as ever, began the class with a simple explanation of what was an Animagus. Ron already knew all about it since it was a fairly known art in the Wizarding World, however, the amazed faces of the muggle-borns from Hufflepuff made him snicker—Finch-Fletchely looked about to faint! Though the redhead's turn came when she, suddenly, transformed herself into a tabby cat.

"Of course, this is far above your current level, and only those with the best grades will be able to try it in seventh year," the Professor told them, her voice rising above the general, and impressed, whispering. Cat or human, her voice was the same, and it certainly silenced the class. "In this week and the following, we'll go through the theory so those curious enough can start their journey into the real world of transfiguration, and for those who aren't so keen, it will be enough to understand how dangerous this technique is and to send away their foolishness." As if nothing, she became a human once more. "Now, shall we start?"

After the long and heavy class, Ron and Tracey made their way towards the Great Hall with one thought in their mind—being an Animagus was very cool, but it was not worth the risk and effort. As per usual, the food was exquisite, and it helped the redhead to replenish energy for the long day; between the summer and his petrification he had forgotten how long days were at Hogwarts. And he still had a long way to go, for there were two more periods in the afternoon: Runes and Defence.

Ron was not very excited about Runes since he had picked it just because the others sounded way worse. Still, Percy had told him that it was a very exciting subject and that Bathsheda Babbling, the witch who was in charge of it, was an excellent teacher; although his brother's opinion was not a reliable source since he worshipped every Professor. Either way, Ron left the Great Hall with a heavy stomach and a sleepy mind and made his way to the fourth floor, where the class would be held.

There, on a long and well illuminated corridor, he found students from every House, some faces he recognised and others he did not. Not counting him, there was only one snake: Millicent Bulstrode, a girl whose voice he had never heard. In fact, she raised her eyes to observe him, but the moment Ron nodded his head in response, as a greeting, she quickly lowered them. Huh? What a weirdo. Anyhow, whatever happened to Bulstrode had nothing to do with him, especially when the classroom door burst open suddenly.

Inside, Professor Babbling awaited them with a warm smile on her wrinkled face. She was an elderly witch of dark skin and curly, short hair, whose eyes quickly moved from one face to another in a rapid succession.

Ron took a seat on the second row, close to the wall, and just when the class was about to start, Susan Bones took a seat by his side. "Sorry to bother you," she started. "But I didn't want to sit alone, and since Hannah and Justin already share a desk, this was the next seat I saw."

"It ain't a problem," Ron shrugged it off. He had interacted very few times with the Hufflepuff girl, but in all of them she had been rather nice. All in truth, he had been waiting for Hermione to come, but it seemed this was one of those classes she was allowed to skip in favour of others. That girl was going to lose her head sooner than later! "Do you think this will be a fun experience?"

"To be honest, I don't think so," Susan replied with the hint of a smile on her face. "I chose Runes because it was one of my aunt's favourite subjects, but she told me that a visit to Filch would be more exciting than its two first years."

"Great," Ron snorted as he rolled his eyes.

As Susan was about to reply, Professor Babbling finally took the word. "Hello everyone!" She exclaimed with a chirpy voice. "Welcome to a new school year, and welcome to this new adventure. You might be wondering why there are people from all four Houses, and that is a rather easy question to answer. This year, very few students decided to take on this subject, not enough to make two groups. Because of that, I decided, with the Headmaster's permission, of course, that this would be the best course of action. The more, the merrier! At least, I hope you also share that opinion."

On his behalf, Ron did not care much about it. Without Malfoy and his goons here, the rest of the students could get along perfectly.

"Anyhow, let's get started," the Professor went on. "What can I say about the world of Runes? It is my passion, and, in my opinion, the most interesting branch of magic to ever exist. Now, I know not many wizards share that sentiment, but I understand this is not an art everyone can enjoy. It is tedious and complicated, though many would call it boring and not so useful; a journey in which most give up in the first year. However, I love it, and that is the reason why I am so blunt today, so there are no regrets in the future."

Well, at least she is honest about it. He had already lost two years of Defence, and it wasn't as if History of Magic counted; it was just another subject to add to the pile. With a quick look around, Ron observed his mates' reactions—Bulstrode's quill was already scratching the paper, much to his surprise; the Patil twins shared a doubtful look, while Anthony Goldstein and Lisa Turpin seemed unbothered; on the contrary, Justin and Hannah looked very confused. By his side, Susan just listened to the Professor like in any other class.

"Starting with the most basic fact about Runes," the Professor said once everyone seemed to regain their composure. "There are two kinds of Runes, one developed by us, humans, in the Ancient Times, and one created by the First Elves. They are related, since one originated from another, and although it has many uses, ours is just a poorer copy of a much sophisticated art, which we never came to fully control and appreciate. What are Runes? Runes are letters and science, they are words and emotions, magic and art, but, above all, they are a catalyst."

The speech continued, full of theory and complex words—to begin with, what in the bloody hell was a catalyst? Ron fell into a trance, spurred by the Professor's soft voice and the food he had eaten an hour ago. In fact, Susan Bones had to softly elbow him a few times when his eyes were about to close. Oh, come on! I can't waste two hours like this. I need to do something useful. The face of Gerdnyaram came to his mind, and the redhead knew what to do.

He put all his focus into the task and into his magic, thus his magical aura was awoken. It felt like a dive into cold water. His magical sense awoke, and Ron truly started to feel. Hogwarts itself seemed alive, like a background presence, one he sent to the back of his mind, like Gerd had instructed him. From his classmates came a bit of residual magic, very alike but still unique in one way or another, that allowed him to locate them with ease, even those who were at his back—Goldstein was the brightest flare, followed by Susan, yet there, in a state of rest, their magic's flow was constant and peaceful.

Every magical being emitted an aura, and it could not be controlled unless one learnt to sense it first. To Ron, that had taken many months and thousands of attempts. Gerdnyaram had referred to it as true magical prowess, even at the very first steps. However, Professor Baggings was another thing altogether. When compared to the students, her aura was like a large campfire against the light of a torch; it had a perfect flow, and with a mere second Ron understood it had been polished with years of practice and effort. Well, this is easy enough, the redhead thought. I need to test my skills in another class, where students are allowed to cast spells. Now, that would be a real challenge.

In the end, Ron settled on a simpler task: to not lose his focus as he paid attention to the class. Much to his surprise, it was proven to be an easy challenge, and, most importantly, fatigue took way longer than he expected to appear. It was a strange sensation, very different to the physical one, but very akin to what he felt that one time in which he managed to put Theodore Nott on the defencive for the first time since they started to duel each other; a duel which lasted twice as long as others did. Moreover, his personal challenge took a turn for the better when Professor Baggins interrupted her speech due to a student's question.

"So, if I get it correctly, it means that Runes allow you to, I don't know, let's say trap someone without using magic?" Anthony Goldstein cut in.

"Correct," the Professor beamed at him. "In fact, why don't you try to walk towards me, Anthony?"

The Ravenclaw sent her a weird look, but did as told and got up. However, he seemed to crash against some invisible wall as soon as he took two steps. Whispers of shock and surprise filled the air, and they got even louder when Lisa Turpin, with a panicked look in her eyes, also crashed against that invisible wall.

"What the hell?" Susan Bones whispered.

Anthony Goldstein managed to snap out of it, and put his hand over the invisible wall. It stopped, but the boy followed it around the table; it had created a prison of two metres in diameter. "It's rock solid," the Ravenclaw said. To prove his point, he punched it, though no sound came out of it.

"How… How do we know you did not use a spell on him?" Millicent Bulstrode said. Her voice was low and timid, and she reddened the moment all the eyes fell over her. "I-I mean, you did not use your wand, but adults can cast spells wandlessly and without uttering the incantation."

"That, Millicent, is some very well reasoned point," the Professor nodded. "Unfortunately, I do not have any way to prove you wrong other than my word. You will have to trust me."

It was at that moment when Ron realised something. Her magical aura had not changed a shred during the demonstration; it had remained as calm as ever. "Whenever a wizard performs any kind of magic, his magical aura is bound to change." Gerdnyaram's words echoed in his mind. "In a duel, it can save your life, for each spell has a different flow, and so does the way each wizard casts them. Through a wand, through a body or through a weapon, the flow of magic can always be read."

"She didn't use any kind of spell," Ron suddenly said, unaware that his rambling was heard by everyone. There was a triumphal smile on his face, though it was quickly erased when Bathsheda Babbling sent a sharp look in his direction.

"You truly know, eh?" She just said. "Ronald Weasley, hmm. Your brothers, Percy and William, were also very bright. In fact, the latter became a curse-breaker for Gringotts, if I remember correctly. Yes, I can see where it comes from."

All the eyes were now on Ron, who just sat up and refused to meet their gazes. Damned be he and his bloody mouth!

Fortunately, the Professor resumed the lecture. "Ronald knows that I speak no lies. Still, I am going to explain what happened here, to show you how wonderful the world of Runes can be. All of you, stand up and get closer to Anthony's table." The students did as told, and once there, their doubts remained unsolved.

"What are we supposed to see?" Hannah Annot asked.

"Look at the ground."

Ron looked down, and there, carved on the floor, he found numerous and diminutive symbols—some were a mix of sharp angles and straight lines, while others had round curves and others geometric figures. "Those are glyphs," Susan mused by his side.

"Indeed, they are," the Professor hummed in response. "We, humans, were bestowed with seven glyphs by the First Elves, as a sign of friendship and love. If you decide to stick with this subject, you will learn all there is about them in the coming years, however, I will give you a little introduction so the seed of curiosity can grow. Here, I used three of them. The core of it was the Glyph of Protection, however, since I wanted to prevent Anthony and Lisa from getting out of its range instead of us entering inside, I also used the Glyph of Inversion to alter it. Lastly, I used the Glyph of Reduction to conceal its magical signature, because, otherwise, some people could have felt it."

That was a very direct, yet subtle, affirmation. And now that Ron had realised about the Glyphs's existence, he wanted to slap himself in the face quite hard. What he had felt during the entire class was not Hogwarts' own magic, but those Glyphs. True enough, the magic of the castle was also there, but much fainter, almost untraceable. "How many Glyphs can we use?" The redhead asked, instead. The class had taken a turn for the better, and now he was very curious about Runes and all that could be accomplished through them.

"There are seven Glyphs," the Professor replied. "Protection, Inversion, Reduction, Reinforcement, Detection and Negation."

For a few seconds, no one uttered a word. "But," Ron started, confused. "Those are six."

"Unfortunately, that is the full list. We know there was a seventh Glyph, because it is mentioned in very ancient manuscripts, but its name and use is a piece of knowledge which has been forgotten with the passing of time. From what little is known, there was an event which almost destroyed the world many centuries ago. Historians named it the War for the Dawn, and although the world and mankind survived, an unthinkable amount of knowledge was lost; perhaps, just as many as human lives were taken."

A shiver iced Ron's spine. Gerdnyaram had told him tales about that War, in which wizards had faced some of the most horrible and violent creatures to ever exist, the Nightmares. In theory, she had not taken part in the War, for she was born a few years after it ended, but her companions had often spoken of the horrors of those dark times. Horrors both sides committed. Perhaps, there are things which are not meant to be known. He had seen enough of those in the fight Gerd had against Herpo the Foul, and also in the memories that woman by the name of Kayle showed him in Scala ad Caelum.

"Anyhow," the Professor got their attention. "I must say that I'm quite delighted with this first class. You've all been brilliant and shown how keen you are to learn about Runes, and that allowed us to deepen a lot on the subject on the first day. Like I said, this will be a tedious year, but it will be worth it. Now, to finish-"

Suddenly, a knock on the door made all the heads turn at it. Without waiting for permission, Dolores Umbridge stepped into the classroom. Today, her robes were even pinker, and she wore some round glasses over her also round face. "Sorry to interrupt," the witch said as she pulled some notebook and a quill from her robes. The said items wasted no time and started to fly around her, the quill ready to begin. "Professor Bathsheda Babbling, right? Mind if I ask you some questions."

The Professor just raised a brow at her. "You are all dismissed," she told the students. "I'll see you next week."

Ron started to make his way out of the class, but, unfortunately, Umbridge had another idea.

"Oh, no," the self-proclaimed First Counselor stopped them. "I am afraid you cannot leave yet. It would be quite discourteous, don't you think so?"

Ron snorted in response, though very faintly, as he sat back on his seat.

"Thank you," Umbridge smiled at them. "Now, back to it. Tell me, Bathsheda, for how long have you been a Professor?"

"This year will be my fortieth—my eleventh at Hogwarts," the Professor replied with a calm voice.

"Hmm, I see. That is a rather long-lasting career, indeed. But, there's something that struck me as odd when I read your file. You were considered as one of Ilvermorny's best professors for many years, and, from what I've heard, Alycia Lessard tried to move heaven and earth to stop you from moving schools. Was there any particular reason?"

The students remained silent as they watched the interrogation like a Quidditch game.

"Yes, there was one very specific reason why I left my country of birth and crossed the ocean," the Professor answered. "Because I wanted to work with Albus Dumbledore, the Great Sorcerer. Hogwarts has always been the most legendary out of the Eight Schools, and though many have catched up with it, this castle still has that aura of legend and myth around it. I wanted a new challenge, the last of my professional career, and there was no better place than this. I wanted to thrive under Albus Dumbledore's eyes."

Umbridge just hummed in response as her quill moved in a frenzy across the paper, right over her head. "It has come to my attention that very few students have taken your subject—this must be an all time minimum! Do you think there is any reason behind this dramatic decrease?"

"No. This is a very theoretical and arduous branch of magic, and results and cool things, as the students call the wonders which can be achieved through runes, take very long to manifest; the rate of results per hour of effort is very, very low. Moreover, this is my life, and I respect this art like nothing else in this world—I will teach this subject as I deem correctly, and if a slower process it's what I consider best, then so be it. I don't really care about how many students take my subject, all in truth."

"That is such a praiseworthy dedication, Bathsheda, but I am not so sure about it being the best course of action. Although I agree that Runes is an excellent subject, time has proven that it is also rather obsolete. It loses more and more students each year, and those who still course it might be wasting their time when they could be learning other, and more useful, branches of magic. Unfortunately, that matter is out of our hands, however, I do not think Cornelius will be very enthusiastic about this data." Umbridge had the nerve to smile at the Professor!

On her behalf, Professor Babbling just nodded her head in response. "Is that all, First Counselor? I am afraid my students must leave now, or, otherwise, they will be late to their next class. We can discuss this matter in private, if you fancy so."

"Oh, thanks, but do not worry about it. I'm finished for now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Bathsheda. I really look forward to working with you in search of a new Hogwarts; a better and renewed Hogwarts."

That being said, Umbridge just left the room without further preamble. For a few seconds, the students were left rooted on the seats, with no idea about what to do or say. In fact, Anthony Goldstein was about to speak a few times, yet ended up closing his mouth just in time at every chance. Now that Umbridge wasn't in sight, Professor Babbling had a storming expression on her face. Yes, definitely, it was better to not say a word. In the end, Ron was the first to stand up and leave the room, letting out an incredulous huff as the others mimicked him.

And to think Defence Against the Dark Ars was going to be the worst moment of the day! What a first day, indeed. A first day that had yet to end. Okay, let's see if Remus Lupin can surpass his two last predecessors.

Fortunately, it was a short way towards the next classroom, on the fifth floor, and the redhead met with Tracey halfway through it, who came from the North Tower. "Hey, how was it?" Ron greeted her. There was a constant frown on her face, so something must have happened. Whatever it was, it could not be worse than the bloody First Counselor.

"Hey," she greeted back as they hopped onto a moving staircase. "Divination was an experience, definitely. There is no other way to describe it. That woman, Trelawney, is a freak! I swear! She came out of a cloud of mist, with teary, reddened eyes, and said that she had been waiting for us for years! She got our attention with that, not gonna lie. However, it all went for the worse rather quickly. She had us reading tea leaves, and although we couldn't see a bloody thing, that woman told us we had been cursed by some ancient demon and that something very bad was going to happen to us. I managed to keep my laughter, but Parkinson guffawed on her face."

"Oh, you think that's bad? Wait and listen to how my class went."

"Umbridge paid you a visit?"

That surprised Ron, enough to almost miss his step as he jumped down the staircase—the bloody thing had left them one floor below! "Wait, how do you know?" The redhead asked. "Did she do the same in Divination? She appeared when the class was about to end, so it could be possible."

"Nothing of that, fortunately," Tracey let out a relieved sigh. "Not to me, at least. Since I wasn't gonna sit with either Parkinson or Nott, I did it with Leanne Gray-"

"Who is that?" Ron cut in.

Tracey sent him a sharp look. "A girl from Hufflepuff. She is quite timid and it is likely that you've never talked to her, but, honestly, how can you not know someone from our promotion? It's been three years since we all came to Hogwarts!"

"I see nothing wrong there," the redhead shrugged the matter away. "I do know everyone from Slytherin, but from the other Houses? No way in hell. There are a few faces from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff whom I cannot name. And there is also this red haired girl from Gryffindor with whom I have never shared a word."

"Boys will be boys," Tracey ended up sighing. She suddenly came to a halt and leaned back onto the wall. They had reached the classroom and he hadn't noticed it. Perhaps, because they were the first to arrive and he used to arrive late, when the others were already there. "Anyhow, I talked to Leanne and she told me that Umbridge had interrupted their class of Potions during the first period. I know, she's crazy for that! It seemed that she flew away as soon as Snape started to look at her with his famous dead eyes, but before that, she asked question after question to him about his career in Hogwarts. Leanne said it was surreal."

Laughter from the other end of the corridor told them that the others were about to arrive; such a loud noise could only come from Crabbe and Goyle, who appeared around the corner in the following seconds. Much to Ron's surprise, Malfoy wasn't leading them. In fact, the blond boy took a while to make an act of presence, and he was accompanied by Theodore Nott, though no words were shared between the two boys. Once there, Malfoy stood in front of the door, his eyes fixated onto the wall in front of him, as he made no noise whatsoever. On the contrary, Ron felt how some eyes glared daggers in his direction. To be exact, those eyes were Crabbe's, who, perhaps, was still a bit resented because of how Ron had humiliated him in front of the whole class last year, in Defence. The redhead did not regret it a bit, but it was true that Riddle overdid it.

Whatever, who cares? Not him, certainly. What's done is done, that ain't gonna change ever. And much less because someone like Vincent Crabbe thinks he can bully me back. Oh, let him try! Still, Ron would need to keep an eye on the gorilla. He was unpredictable, and that always meant bad news.

Before the Professor was to appear, Nott made his way over to them. "Yo, it's been a while, Weasley," he just said. He was even taller than last year, enough to be half a head taller than Ron, who already was rather tall for his age, and he got more than a full head over Tracey. However, that boy was as lanky as he could be; there was no ounce of muscle on him, just skin and bones. "Hello there, Davis." He greeted the girl without even looking at her. "Though it has been even longer since we last practised together, right? I hope you trained this summer, because, otherwise, I will sweep the ground with you next time we duel."

"I did my bit," Ron said.

"Wonderful! I'm gonna turn fourteen by the start of next year, and that means my time to compete in duelling tournaments is closer and closer, see what I mean? I need someone to practise with, and since I'm jailed in this bloody castle, that someone is you, Weasley. I believe it will do a lot of good to you, too." Nott turned his head to point at Crabbe, who still had his eyes fixated on their direction, with an amused look on his face. "Honestly, it blows my mind that you allow him to even look at you, much less with that threatening attitude. I would beat away that shitty behaviour of his."

"We clearly have different methods, Nott," Ron huffed in response. This boy was nuts, he had always known that, but he also was useful, thus he needed to keep him close at hand. "I'm afraid this week will be a tad too impossible since there are loads of things to do, but once things are settled, I'm all for it."

Nott just smiled at him. "Nice. I'll wait for your call, then." And just like that, he left.

Tracey let out a whistle. "Honestly, he has always given me the creeps. I don't know why on earth would you do anything with him, much less allow him to throw curses at you. He's mental, but so are you."

Suddenly, the door at their back was softly opened from the inside. "Thank you, really. I feel very supported," Ron snorted as he made his way inside. He wanted to get the class done as soon as possible and hit the bed. "Let's see what this man has in store for us."

However, there was no one inside the class. The students sat down, took out their books and equipment for the class, and started to whisper when an entire minute passed. It was the first time Ron had used that classroom, but he liked it better than those from the two previous years. A large stance with many windows that, had it been an early period, would have allowed a great amount of sunlight to seep through them. At one end of the room, just above a large blackboard, there was a second floor which could be accessed through a wooden staircase near the door. Up there, was a wooden door, of a darker shade. Most likely, it would grant access to Remus Lupin's office.

And just at that moment, Professor Lupin came out of it, a bright smile on his beardy face. "Good afternoon," the wizard said as he walked down the stairs. "Would you please put the books back in your bag. This lecture will be a practical one. All you will need is your wands."

Ron shared a look with Tracey, a bit excited yet also rather fearful. Last time those words had been pronounced in a class of Defence, Lockhart had freed a horde of Cornish Pixies upon them; more than a practical lecture, it became a battlefield. It seemed to be a common reaction, for whispers did not take long to appear.

"Right then," the Professor went on. "I've been told about your traumatic experience with the Cornish Pixies last year, but fear not, this class will be very different." He walked forward, between the two lines of desk, so the students had to turn their heads in order to see him. "Today, we will all face our deepest fears. And, yes, I included myself in the equation. Today, we will all face a Boggart."

If whispers had filled the class seconds ago, now it was a loud rumbling that replaced it. A Boggart? This man was not sane in the head! A few years ago, one of those hellish creatures had found its way into The Burrow. Ron could still remember how his mother had run away from it with tears in her eyes, and it was only thanks to Bill, who had just graduated back then, that it could be sent away.

"Are you even allowed to make us face it?" Malfoy suddenly asked. His face had turned all white, but the proud bastard still refused to show the tiniest ounce of fear in his voice. "I'm pretty sure it wasn't included in the subject's list of topics."

"You are correct, Draco," Remus Lupin hummed in response, not faced at all with the class' reaction. "However, the Headmaster granted me my wish." He took a few steps towards some old closet at the end of the classroom. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Like this wardrobe, for example. This little fella moved in yesterday afternoon, and I thought it would be a nice idea to begin the year with this useful lesson. After all, you are all bound to face a Boggart once in your life. It would be a shame to not know how to deal with them, don't you think so? Well, let's get started with some basic knowledge about them—what is a Boggart?"

"A shape-shifter," Nott replied without even raising his hand. Not as if it mattered, though, because no one looked very enthusiastic at all. "It will take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

"That is a perfect definition, Theodore." The Professor tapped his wand against the wooden wardrobe; a faint growl came from inside. "No one knows what is the real form of a Boggwart, and it will be something we won't find out today, because, as soon as this door is to be opened, it will come at us at full force. Which, if I may add, is our main advantage today. Can anyone give me a reason?"

"Because we are enough people to confuse it," Malfoy replied.

"Precisely. The worst enemy of a Boggart is to face multiple people at once. That, and some very simple charm." His wand moved rather elegantly in his hand. "Riddikulus," he chanted. "I know it does not sound powerful nor amazing, but laughter is all you will need to finish a Boggart. As you cast a spell, you need to think of something funny, and your magic will just make him adopt the said shape. Come on, try it yourselves."

Like everyone else, Ron got his wand out of his robes and chanted the incantation. Despite Lupin's words of confidence, there was a little problem his mind couldn't stop thinking about. What the hell scared him the most? Spiders, perhaps? That was a plausible option, but he did not fear them so much anymore. Lord Voldemort? He certainly shivered at the thought of it—that Shadow still visited his dreams from time to time. However, as some mocking words resounded in his head, Ron identified what scared him the most. Tom Riddle and his cruel smirk, that was it.

"Nice," Professor Lupin smiled at them. "But I'm afraid that was the easy part. A word and some funny thoughts alone are not enough to defeat a Boggart. You need to be strong, to act with resolution and courage. Only that way, the Boggart will understand it has nothing to do against your determination. I would comprehend if no one feels confident enough to give it a try, but I will still ask it. Does anyone volunteer to go first?"

For more than ten seconds, no one uttered a word nor moved a finger. However, just when Lupin was about to speak, Tracey took one step forward. She's barmy. Now I know for sure. Just like Ron, the rest of the class looked at the girl with awe and surprise alike in their eyes.

"You are incredibly brave, Tracey," Professor Lupin said with a soft voice. "In the next few seconds, I will release the Boggart from its prison, and you'll be all by yourself against it. It will take the shape of your biggest fear, and you must try to fight him like I just told you how. If you cannot repel it, or if I think you are about to lose, I will interfere before it is too late, okay? Win or lose, you have already proven to me and everyone that you are very brave. Now, take a calming breath and get ready to show this Boggart that Tracey Davis is not someone to mess with."

There was a deep silence which enveloped them all, full of tension and anticipation. Come on, Tracey, you can do it. I know you can do it. Lupin opened the wardrobe, and nothing came out of it. Still, no one said a word. Then, when Tracey was about to open her mouth, a cloud of dark mist was born just out of the wardrobe. It became bigger and it changed, some smaller clouds being born out of it. The larger, the one in the middle, took Tracey's form; she looked younger and smaller, and also fearful about something, eyes full of tears.

"Come on, guys, don't leave me behind," the misty figure said, its voice so realistic that it managed to get plenty of gasps from the crowd, Ron included. "I wanna play, too!"

The other figures started to develop a concrete form, and the gasps became both louder and more numerous. The misty silhouettes of Daphne, Blaise, Nott, Malfoy, Parkinson and Ron all turned their back on Tracey's. "I cannot believe they allowed a half-blood like you in here," the fake Malfoy spat, a cruel smirk perfectly visible on his face. Blaise just nodded at those words, while Nott let out an exasperated huff in response. "She has always been an outcast. It is just a matter of time for her to realise," Daphne added as she took a few steps away from Tracey. "A freak, that's it," Ron shook his head in disbelief. "A freaky girl who likes to play boy's games."

The loud and acute laugh of Parkinson was all they could hear for a few seconds. Then, the real Tracey silenced it. "Riddikulus!" The misty Malfoy tripped and fell face down to the floor, whimpering and crying. Parkinson's laughter became the meow of a cat, while Daphne's voice turned much more acute, almost like a whistle. In regard to the boys, Blaise's face was painted in white as his cheeks were in red, like a clown, while Nott's already large limbs grew twice its size. However, nothing happened to the fake Tracey and Ron, who, rather surprised, lost their form bit by bit until they went back to their original form, that cloud of dark mist.

The Boggart ran back to the wardrobe, leaving no misty silhouette on the room, and the door closed behind with a loud thud.

Professor Lupin broke the silence with a round of applause, which was followed by Ron and Blaise, though the latter did it in a much timid way. "That was fantastic!" Lupin congratulated her, who just blushed as all the eyes were onto her. Needless to say was the fact her number had not been appreciated by some people. Malfoy just stared at her with dead eyes and no emotion in his eyes, while Parkinson's face had gotten so red that smoke seemed to be coming out of her nostrils. However, much to the redhead's surprise, Nott's smile was one of amusement. "You were very quick to act. If you don't mind the question, were you sure of which fear was gonna be used against you?"

"Yes," Tracey answered, still refusing to look at her classmates. "Well, more or less, I guess. The thing is, I long ago came to understand what I feared the most was. There are plenty of things that scare me, from nasty creatures to silly horror tales. However, what I really feared was… Well, I just hated being alone." She coughed the embarrassment out of her, yet didn't stop there. "Luckily, it is a thing of the past. Maybe, because of that, I was able to react so fast and with no doubts."

"Solitude is, indeed, one of the most common fears among people," Professor Lupin said with a soft voice. "We, humans, are sociable creatures, and the fear of not being accepted always lingers at the back of many people's minds. Especially in this society of ours, so classist and close-minded. Your demonstration was immaculate, Tracey, and for that, I reward Slytherin with fifteen points."

The girl blushed yet beamed at the Professor as she took a few steps back, until she was shoulder to shoulder with Ron.

"That was incredible," he mused.

"I was about to wet my pants," the girl confessed. "I kind of expected for something like that to happen, but I was very surprised when your toddler doubles appeared."

Professor Lupin eyed the group with a raised brow. "Who's going to be next?" He asked. "I would understand if any of you refused to show such an intime information in front of others. If that is the case, those who feel that way can wait until everyone else is done, and their act will be done in private."

This time, Theodore Nott was the one to step forward, his nonchalant look ever present on his face. "Let me ask you something first, Professor," he started. "Apart from this silly spell, is there any other way to fight a Boggart?"

"There are plenty of ways, though all are more advanced and complex," Professor Lupin explained. "And also darker. A wizard should be prepared for every situation and its possible turns, with plenty of aces under his sleeve, but, for the near future, this spell will be our weapon of choice."

"I see," Nott hummed in response. "You can drag him out. I'm ready."

The Professor's eyes lingered a bit on the weedy boy, but still did as told. The Boggart came out much faster this time, still a cloud of dark mist at first, yet quickly morphed into the figure of a large wolf of red eyes, sharp teeth and black fur. Even faster, Nott's wand was pointed at it. "Riddikulus." The wolf emitted a pathetic whimper as it shrank and shrank until it became the size of a shoe. Nott just snorted as the Boggart ran back towards the wardrobe. "What a pathetic creature."

Tracey took a few steps away from him, musing something in a very low voice. From the corner of his eyes, Ron noticed how others, like Parkinson or Blaise, mimicked her. What a bloody lunatic! That's his biggest fear? A wolf?

"That was…, odd," Professor Lupin just said.

"I mean, it wasn't as if I really feared it," Nott replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "I fear nothing in this world, though there are plenty of things I hate and dislike. There was once, when I was a child, that a wolf like this one barged in the courtyard of my manor. At first, it scared the hell out of me, but as soon as my father dealt with it, I understood there was nothing to be afraid of when we could use magic to fight our fears away. I guess the Boggart went for that precise memory."

"I see," Professor Lupin hummed. "Good job, Theodore. Who will be next?"

This time, no one volunteered. In fact, most seemed to lower their gazes as if that made them invisible. On his behalf, Ron's mind replayed again and again his last encounter with Riddle—those mocking eyes, those foul words, and, most importantly, the impotence and rage Ron felt that day. That bastard was dead, yet his memory would be eternal unless Ron banished it from his mind. To hell with all! I told Ginny she needed to forget that bastard and live her best life. I might as well try it myself. With those thoughts in mind, the redhead stepped forward. "I'm ready," he said with a firm voice. Though he did not feel so. "Bring it to me."

For a third time, the wardrobe was opened, and on this occasion no cloud of dark mist came from it. No, what stepped out of it was a human figure, that of a boy in his late teens. Taller and way more handsome than Ron, with a bright yet cruel smile, those dark eyes belonged to the very Tom Riddle, a man who once was the Heir of Slytherin. "Hello, Ronald. It's been a while," he snickered.

Ron's wand was pointed at him in no time at all, but no matter how hard the boy tried, no amusing thought came to his mind. Just a storm of rage. "Riddikulus!" He chanted. Nothing changed, and Riddle's smile got wider. "Riddikulus! Riddikulus!"

"Calm yourself, Ronald!" Lupin's words could be heard above his shouting, yet barely.

Riddle took a few steps towards him, his voice getting clearer and clearer with each step. "Oh, come on, I thought you were better than that!" He laughed. "Does little Ronnie want help from his brothers? Is he scared? I thought we were friends…"

Ron had had enough. "Bombarda!" He chanted. The spell came out of his wand with extreme precision and speed, but it went through Riddle as if he was air itself. At his back, the wardrobe exploded in a rain of splinters.

Riddle's laughter only died when Lupin jumped in front of him. It morphed into a white, bright disk. "Riddikulus," the Professor mused. And just like that, the white disk deflated like a balloon, flying away and going under the door, into the corridors of the school.

Ron felt all the eyes on his back, yet he refused to lower his head. He stood proud, defeated, but proud. However, deep inside him, he wanted to cry out of rage and frustration. Even dead, Riddle still got a hold over him. "I'm very sorry," the redhead managed to say. "I lost control and screwed it all."

"Maybe, but it was only because you were brave enough to face your fears, Ronald," the Professor said, placing a hand over his shoulder. "I've lost control plenty of times in many situations, and I even got to hurt other people. We are humans, and we are allowed to commit mistakes. One does not fail because he cannot achieve what he intended to, but because he dared not to try. Failure is a process, Ronald, and we all must go through it to learn."

"Can I go outside?" The boy asked, still refusing to look at Lupin. "I would welcome a bit of fresh air."

"Do you want to talk about it?" The Professor asked, instead. "In private, of course."

"Not really."

"Then, you are free to leave."

Ron made his way out of the classroom, followed by the eyes of his fellow classmates, like a burden to be carried on his back. The door closed behind him, and he punched the stone wall with all his might. The bone cracked as some electric pain went through his arm, yet all he did was to snort in response, ironically. "For much I try, when the moment of truth comes, I cannot get rid of you, eh, you bloody bastard?" Letting his wounded arm dangle to his side, Ron made his way to the Seventh Courtyard. He needed a place where he could think in solitude.

This had been, without the hint of a doubt, the worst first day of school ever.

---

So far, Ilvermorny had been a rather peculiar experience.

Like Hogwarts, it had four Houses, and Daphne Greengrass had been sorted—or she had chosen, to be precise—the House of Thunderbird. It was said that it represented the soul of a wizard, but also that it favoured adventurers and brave people, and Daphne had always loved reading tales about brave wizards and the dangerous ventures they experienced; it did not matter whether they were tales of fantasy or based on real events. Besides all of that, it was the House the only person she knew at Ilvermorny had chosen. Alexander Shawn had many flaws and traits one could criticise, but he had always helped his friends without reserves.

Though none of that mattered as Daphne walked through the cold corridors of the school, towards the Headmistress' office. Her name was Alycia Lessard, a witch who came from a very important Great House, of the same importance and nobility as Greengrass itself, and who had been described as a very eccentric and weird woman by many people. In all truth, Daphne had no idea why she had been summoned to her presence; all the girl knew was the fact she needed to face that infamous witch all by herself. Oh, how she missed Hogwarts!

She crossed paths with some older students, who, like everyone else, let their gazes linger on her figure for far more time than she would have liked. Daphne was the new student there, a transfer from Hogwarts, and that turned her into a freak. Still, she just ignored them and strolled through those liveless corridors of granite. To be fair, Ilverlmorny felt way more regal than Hogwarts, more austere and serious, and some would even say that it was also more beautiful. Yet, to her, it just felt less warm, empty. Not like home should feel.

Up there, at the peak of Mount Greylock, with that dense cloud of mist around the castle, even summer days were cold enough to make a person wish to stay under the blankets for hours and hours. In each corridor there were countless windows, with carvings of the Snakewood Tree over their surface, that reminded every student how isolated from the world they were. Some felt protected, but all Daphne felt was solitude. The more you think about it, the more it will affect you, she told herself. I need to hold my head high and accept this new life of mine. Otherwise, I will start crying like some little girl. No, that could not happen under any circumstance. Daphne did not care about her family's opinion anymore, but she was not going to prove them right—she was not weak.

In the end, after a long walk in which she barely met any students, Daphne made it to the furthest tower from the wing of the dormitories. There, in the middle of a long, circular stance, with walls of clear glass, a platform of golden stone awaited. It almost hurt the eyes, for it was one of the very few structures of the castle which did not follow that grey and white pattern. She hopped over it, trying to not think about the forthcoming meeting.

The moment her feet touched the golden platform, Daphne realised that it felt very warm to the touch, to a point in which the warmth seeped through her thick boots of black leather. And then, the ascension began. As if pulled from some invisible strings, the platform raised from the floor, and soon enough she was surrounded by translucent walls. It allowed her to see a brightful spectacle outside the elevator. Around her, ethereal silhouettes of a bright, blue shade were lost in a frenzied dance—thunderbirds, wampuses, horned serpents and pukwudgies; the guardians creatures of Ilvermorny.

It was a short yet magnificent spectacle, and it left her mind out of the world for enough time to jump in fear when the platform suddenly came to a halt; she had reached her destination. There was no trace of those translucent walls anymore. No, now it was the familiar sight of the cold granite walls that welcomed her. A large corridor into the castle awaited, with no windows this time, which ended at some wooden door. Instead, there were many statues and tapestries all over the walls; representation of the four guardians and of Ilvermorny's founders, Isolt Sayre and James Steward.

Gulping down a knot in her throat, the blond girl took step after step towards the door. It took her less than a minute, but she wished it would have been further. Finally, her knuckles knocked on the wooden door. "Come in, my dear," a voice came from inside. And just like that, Daphne stepped into the room.

The first thing she noticed was how different it looked to the rest of the castle. The walls were of polished and stainless rock, painted with a layer of light blue that resembled a cloudless sky, while the floor followed a pattern of gold and black slabs of the very same material. On the right side of the room, there were many huge shelves with countless books and artefacts of them; it reminded Daphne of Dumbledore's office, but way more tidied and organised since every object was sorted into groups of the same colour. However, onto the left, there was nothing but a huge, oval window, which, much to her surprise, showed a mistless sight; if one was to squint his eyes, the Emerald Valley could be seen from up there.

In front of Daphne stood a large desk of light wood, with a simple lamp over it and nothing else. However, what caught her eyes was the person who was sitting behind the table. Her hair was long and it fell all over her back, with way more white strands than blonde's, and her eyes of a bright green which seemed to stare through her soul, Alycia Lessard was as impressive as she had been told. Her chin rested over his hands, and she observed Daphne with an amused smile on her slightly wrinkled face. "Take a seat," she told her. The girl did as told, through her eyes roamed what hung from the wall right behind the Headmistress. There were, at least, thirty graduation photographs trying to cover the blue surface. "As you can see, I am really proud of every student I have ever had."

Daphne obeyed and cleared her throat; those eyes made her nervous. "You wanted to see me," she just said.

"Indeed," the Headmistress replied. "For many reasons, I must say. First of all, I wanted to personally welcome you to Ilvermorny, even though I am a few days late. I am pretty sure you will come to love this school dearly, no matter how foul your memories of the very first few days are." She took a moment to conjure two cups, which appeared right over the table; one of them was already steaming. "Do you fancy any kind of drink? Tea, perhaps?" Daphne nodded her head in response; she was not a huge fan of the said drink, but it was appreciated to fight the roughness of her tongue at that moment. "Well, please yourself. I myself prefer coffee, but I guess you are still too young to like it. Anyhow, as I was saying, I really hope the rashness of your situation does not tarnish your experience here. I talked to your father when he made the petition to bring you to this school, and only thanks to some little hints here and there that I grasped, I came to understand that it had been his decision and his alone. Oftenly, when that happens, for the sake of the children, I refuse the petition, especially if it comes from a pureblood House. However, you are a very special case, Daphne Greengrass."

Daphne just closed her eyes, irritated, and took a sip from her cup of tea; much to her surprise, it tasted delicious.

"You must understand that you are the heiress of a Great House," Alycia Lessard went on. "And from a very important one, on top of that. Nowadays, Ilvermorny only has children from another two, Shawn and Grace. Still, I would have refused your father's petition had it not been because of other factors; those that truly matter to me. Firstly, he did this with your well-being in mind, believe it or not. I saw it quite clearly, and trust me when I say very few people in this world can fool me. Secondly, because I have heard that things in Hogwarts had not been as they should be in these past years—the Chamber of Secrets and Professors, who, year after year, get severely wounded under unknown circumstances. And thirdly, because I know you will not be alone here. I believe you and Alexander Shawn have known each other since you were toddlers. That will surely ease the roughness of your first months here." She took a moment of pause to look at the blond girl. "Oh, pardon me. I am afraid I quite like talking. This was enough rambling. Tell me, Daphne, what do you think of Ilvermorny?"

Even though she really missed Hogwarts and her friends, Daphne could not deny what she thought and felt. "To be honest, way better than I first imagined," she answered. "Mainly, because people have welcomed me with open arms and warm smiles, and not only most of the students, but also the Professors and the personnel who work here. However, let's just say that this school is quite different from what I thought."

"Oh, really? In what sense?"

"Well, first of all, because, unlike in Hogwarts, magic is not all that it is taught here. I mean, I can understand the need to teach things like mathematics and literature, and even basic knowledge of the muggle world, but what about physical education? Is it necessary? After the first class, I could not move for the following days!"

That seemed to greatly amused her. "In fact, it is quite important. It has been proven enough times that it has many benefits. Not only does it help to slightly improve one's magical mastery, since the constant use of magic takes a huge toll on the human body and its stamina, but it also, and most importantly, brings an enormous amount of benefits to the quality of life of the students; it reduces stress and anxiousness, which are two of my worst enemies. And in regards to that first point, yes, I established those non-magical subjects as mandatory the first day I stepped into this office. All the other schools delegate that task to the children's families. The muggle-borns are supposed to go through elementary school in their world, and also, their education is something their parents will not leave aside. Now, in pureblood households, as you must know, children are educated to become lords and ladies, and so they are very well versed in many fields. But there is always a fair amount of students who do not belong to either of those two groups. To me, everyone deserves a fair chance, and only their effort and talent will dictate when to stop."

That speech impressed Daphne. Sure, it spoke wonders of Alycia Lessard and her love and fairness towards the students and her profession. However, there was something strange in the way she spoke. Maybe because of the words she used, or perhaps because of that faint touch which accompanied them, it seemed that she considered the students as jewels to polish and collect. Was it ambition? She was quite familiar with that. After all, it was what moved most of the people in the pureblood sphere. "I see," the girl hummed in response. It would make a lot of sense. No ordinary person could have risen an institution of Ilvermorny's calibre to the top. In the end, Alycia Lessard was as eccentric as everyone said.

"As it is said, like father, like daughter," the Headmistress suddenly laughed, which left Daphne pretty perplexed. What was going on? "You inherited his wits and his skills to analyse other people, though I must say that you still have a long way to go in order to reach his capacity to hide emotions. Oh, your face showed it pretty clearly, Daphne. You think I am a freak, right?"

Daphne started to sweat, something she abhorred. "Ehm, no? I mean, freak is not a word I would use. Perhaps, ambitious? Yes, that would be the one." She had screwed it all up in the first meeting! "Ambition is a good trait in my books."

"Ambitious, freak, crazy; those are words I've heard plenty of times when people talk of me," Alycia Lessard smirked. "And they are not far from the truth. However, the word I long ago came to accept is no other but selfish. Yes, I am as selfish as someone can be. When I was a little girl, I was under the shadow of my younger sister, who surpassed me at every task with no trouble. She was a prodigy, and I, on the contrary, an average witch. Yet I never came to envy her. No, all I did was to admire her. That admiration towards my sister was a seed, and with the years it grew until it became a dream. I wanted to see how far magic could be pushed, what wonders could we achieve, and since I lacked the talent to get it done myself, I decided to become a trampoline so those 'chosen' could reach their full potential. Tell me, is there a better place for me to be than at one of the Eight Schools?"

"I… I guess not." This woman was crazy, there was no doubt of that.

"Although you must not judge me so early. All my decisions have a selfish reason behind them, but none will ever be detrimental to any child. I give my students all the resources they might need to become the best wizards and witches they can, but, obviously, not all of them are cut out for it, and the moment that becomes clear to me or any of my Professors, they are not to be pushed. Remember this: under pressure, carbono turns into diamond, yet if you overpush it, even the toughest break."

That certainly helped to relieve her. However, there was a very loud question echoing in her mind. "Where do I stand in your plans?"

"No one can deny the fact you are a very intelligent girl, Daphne, but only time will answer your questions. As I said, all I wanted to do today was to welcome you, and also to get to know you a bit better. I admit that you have impressed me, enough to give me goosebumps. You have a bright future, now, are you ambitious enough to go for it? From what little I know of you, ambition does not seem to be one of your traits."

"I see that Alexander ran his tongue free, eh?" Daphne huffed in response. Oh, later, she would certainly let him know what she thought of that! But meanwhile, there was another matter which needed to be attended to. "I am ambitious, but not as much as my father wants me to be—a Greengrass should always be the best, after all. Sure, I love getting good grades like everyone else, and I certainly enjoy when others give me looks of envy or admiration. Yet, as you said, there are people who are just destined to be better, let it be because of their talent or because they work harder than everyone else. I've lost to both of them—pureblood children like Alexander or my cousin, to whom magic seems to be as easy as talking, and others of not-so-noble birth, like Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, whom I met at Hogwarts and who work as much as they need and even more. When I asked myself if I wanted to be in their place, the answer was yes, obviously. But I also asked myself if I was ready to go as far as they did, and there I doubted."

For a brief moment, there was a glint in her eyes. "I see," Alycia Lessard hummed in response. "You know yourself very well, Daphne Greengrass. That would save you from many tears and headaches. You remind me of myself. It is not healthy to punish yourself trying to follow the shadow of others. In your group, there are two boys who cast a huge shadow: Killian Leonard and Alexander Shawn are, without the hint of a doubt, the most talented wizards I have ever encountered, and, probably, that I will ever encounter. No other person comes close to them."

Just by the way she talked about him, Daphne had already imagined that Alex was one of her very precious jewels, but the mention of the ever kind Killian surprised her; there was no ounce of ambition in that boy. Why did she always end up surrounded by special people? First, it had been the likes of Potter, Granger and Ron, and now these two. "Just what I needed," Daphne huffed, ironically. It was better to laugh at it rather than crying. "It turns out that I am now supposed to stand the next coming of Albus Dumbledore with an ego the size of this castle!"

"No, about that you are mistaken," Alycia Lessard suddenly said, no trace of amusement in her voice. "Albus Dumbledore is a monster of its own; unique and special." She realised how serious her voice had become. "Oh, pardon me. I always get this nervous at the mention of that man. I am going to be honest with you, Daphne. That man scares me. Actually, I have a theory about him; do you fancy hearing it?"

Do I even have the option to say no? Being so discourteous would leave a bad impression on the Headmistress, so the girl nodded in response.

"I believe that, when Albus Dumbledore was born, the balance of this world changed," she stated. "He was so mighty that Magic, or whatever force you believe watches over us, realised its mistake, so it created a counterpart: Gellert Grindelwald. However, one turned out to be more powerful than the other, thus Albus Dumbledore prevailed, victorious and free. Because of that, another wizard had to be born: Lord Voldemort. Yet again, though his time came to an end by the hands of a baby, another counterpart failed. We are fortunate that Albus Dumbledore is a man of good, yet, as long as he has a breath to exhale, we are cursed to live through another dark lord, one which, one day, will prevail over its counterpart. I firmly believe this, for there must exist a balance in every aspect."

For a moment, Daphne was left speechless. Then she made a connection between the last two conversations, and it left her shivering. "Y-You cannot possibly think that either Alex or Killian are gonna become the next dark lord," the blond whispered, yet her words were perfectly audible. This woman could not have a sane mind! "I refuse to believe that nonsense."

"Again you prove to have a sharp mind, yet this time you allowed emotions to take hold of your logic," the Headmistress replied. "I do not believe those two are going to turn evil. In fact, I do believe the next dark lord is yet to be born, though it will happen, unfortunately. However, given the seriousness and importance of the matter, all possibilities should be taken into consideration. It is also part of my job as the Headmistress of Ilvermorny." With a twist of her hand, the empty cups were banished from the tables. "I am afraid this conversation has turned into a dead end, a sombre one. I am happy it happened as it did because it allowed me to see how brilliant you are, Daphne, and I, from the bottom of my heart, am static to see how you grow into a great woman and witch."

That sounded like a farewell, so she stood up and took her leave; she was so tired all she wanted to do was to lay down on her bed and sleep until morning came. Unfortunately, tomorrow she had another class of physical education.

As her hand grasped the door's knob, the Headmistress spoke one last time. "If you ever need any kind of help, come at me without a doubt. I really mean it when I said you reminded me of my younger self so much, Daphne. I hope you have fun and learn loads of things in tomorrow's classes."

---

As you've read, there was no mention of the time-turner they gave to Hermione in the third book. That's because I just refused to believe they handed such a power to a fourteen year old girl. Also, fuck time loops and all the messes they create.

Anyhow, see you soon, whenever that turns out to be!