A/N: I'm here with another update! Hope you're enjoying the story. Please leave a review and/or favorite and follow the story to show your support! Thank you very much and here we go!

"So, Potter, you actually showed up," Draco said, his voice dripping with mockery. "I thought you might chicken out. Or were you too scared to miss the chance to make a fool of yourself?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he could feel the familiar rush of irritation bubbling up. "I'm here, aren't I?" he replied coolly, his grip tightening around his wand. "And I'm not the one who's been hiding behind two goons."

Crabbe and Goyle's faces twisted into looks that might have been attempts at intimidation, but it only made them seem even more ridiculous. Lola stood behind Harry, rolling her eyes. She wasn't afraid, not of Draco, and certainly not of his goons.

Harry crossed his arms. "Let's see what you've got."

Draco wasted no time. "Rictusempra!" he shouted, and a tickling charm shot at Harry. He dodged it just in time.

"Is that all, Malfoy? Petrificus Totalus!" Harry fired back, and Draco barely managed to sidestep it. The spell hit Goyle, who collapsed on the floor, stiff as a statue.

"Nice one, Harry!" Ron called out, but Crabbe seized the moment, aiming at Ron.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Ron barely dodged, tripping over his own feet and landing face-first. "Great aim, you bimbo," he muttered angrily.

Lola grinned. She shot a glance at Goyle, who had started to get up, a vacant expression on his face. He looked like he wasn't sure what to do—until he saw the excited glint in Lola's eyes. She raised her wand and gave him a smirk.

They looked at each other, and shrugged with a mutual understanding. Seeing as they were there, they might have as well...

Lola flicked her wand faster than Goyle. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Goyle's feet suddenly left the ground, and he floated upward, flailing wildly. "Hey! Put me down!" he yelped, looking like an overgrown balloon drifting to the ceiling.

Lola shrugged nonchalantly. "Nah, you're good up there."

Meanwhile, Draco was flustered, trying spells with little success. "Impedimenta," he muttered, but only managed a tiny sparkle from his wand.

"You're really nailing this, Malfoy," Harry said dryly.

Crabbe, recovering from Ron's most recent hex, tried again. "Petrificus Totalus!" He missed entirely, hitting a trophy case instead, which exploded into a shower of trophies.

"Nice one, Crabbe," Malfoy screetched, as Crabbe rubbed his head, confused. "You broke the whole lot!"

Lola was having the time of her life. "I think tonight we established you're about as scary as a wet towel, Malfoy."

"Enough!" Harry finally called out, raising his hands. "This is just a mess."

Ron nodded. "We're first-years. We're not here to kill each other."

The group stood there, catching their breath, the chaos of their impromptu duel still lingering in the air. The Trophy Room looked like a war zone—broken trophies scattered across the floor, Goyle still floating helplessly near the ceiling, and a lingering smell of burnt carpet from the failed hexes.

For a moment, no one spoke. Draco, his hair askew and his face red with frustration, glared at Harry. Crabbe was still rubbing his head, while Goyle, now awkwardly drifting down, looked confused but oddly calm.

Draco shot Ron a withering look but didn't respond. Instead, he glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, who were both still trying to regain some semblance of dignity. It was clear that no one had won, not really. They were all more a mess than anything resembling a victorious duel.

"You know," Harry said, still eyeing Draco, "for all the big talk, this was a pretty sorry excuse for a duel."

Draco's lip curled. "Potter, you might have the nerve, but don't flatter yourself. Next time, I'll really show you what a proper duel looks like."

Lola raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure. Maybe you should teach your friend how to not blow up trophy cases first." She turned to Harry, who was fighting back a grin. "Honestly, the way Goyle was floating was almost impressive."

"I was intimidating!" Goyle protested weakly, looking more like a balloon than a threat. But Lola just shrugged, not even bothering to look at him.

"Right, well," Draco muttered, his pride obviously stinging, "you're lucky we didn't call for backup."

"Backup?" Ron scoffed. "Who, your mum?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, but he held back a retort. "Next time, Potter," he said, before turning to Crabbe and Goyle, who were still trying to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

Without another word, Draco spun on his heel and stalked off toward the door, Crabbe and Goyle following behind, their faces still a mixture of confusion and indignation.

As they disappeared into the hallway, Lola couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "Well, that was a trainwreck."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, but I don't think I've ever laughed so hard."

"We should do this more often," Harry said with a grin.

"Definitely," Lola agreed. "Just, you know, with less broken school properties next time."

They stood there for a moment, watching as the door swung shut behind Draco and his lackeys. The silence that followed was almost peaceful, but there was still that weird tension—like they'd just created an unspoken truce, something neither side would admit aloud.

"Let's get out of here before we end up on Filch's radar." Lola added.

And with that, they disappeared down the hall, their laughter echoing through the castle, as the echoes of their chaotic, awkward duel faded into the night.

...

The next morning, after a restless night of sleeping late and waking up late, Harry, Ron, and Lola made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, piling their plates with toast and eggs. It was a quiet start to the day—until Fay, who had been sitting with them, leaned in with an eager grin.

"So, Lola," Fay began, raising an eyebrow, "where exactly did you go last night after talking to Percy?"

Lola hesitated, glancing around the table as she considered her answer. Finally, she lowered her voice and leaned in. "Dumbledore asked me to his office. He thinks I might be... well, a Seer."

The whole table fell silent.

Fay's eyes widened in awe. "So more than a psychic... You're a Seer? Like, you can actually see the future?" She clasped her hands together, looking as if she'd just witnessed a miracle. "Oh, this is brilliant! You have to give me a reading sometime."

Lola forced a chuckle, though her palms grew clammy. "Um, well... sure. I'll, uh, see what I can do," she stammered, already making a mental note to start studying Divination for real.

Her best friend Ellie back home had been into tarot and palm readings, but Lola had always just found it entertaining, never anything serious. Now, she wondered if she'd have to actually learn it to keep her "Seer" cover.

Hermione looked skeptical, folding her arms. "Are we really buying this? No offense, Lola, but Divination is hardly... reliable."

Ron and Harry shared an awkward glance, both looking a bit abashed. "Well, if Dumbledore thinks she might be a Seer, maybe there's something to it," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck.

Hermione scoffed, clearly unconvinced, while Lola quickly changed the topic. But just as she was about to speak, the hum of chatter in the Great Hall grew louder, and students started exchanging glances between each other.

"Have you heard about the Trophy Room?" someone whispered from the next table.

"Yeah, it was a disaster—trophies everywhere, like some sort of battle went down!"

Harry, Ron, and Lola exchanged guilty looks, sinking a little lower in their seats.

Hermione gave them all a shrewd look. "You three wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Ron forced an innocent smile. "Us? Not a clue. We just, you know, went to bed early, didn't we, guys?"

"Right," Harry mumbled, trying to focus on his breakfast. Lola nodded, mouth full of toast.

The tension around the Great Hall was palpable. They could practically feel Filch's fury echoing down the corridors, and each whisper from a nearby table made them shift uncomfortably.

"Well," Fay said brightly, ignoring their awkwardness, "if anything exciting happens again, be sure to use your Seer powers to get us there on time, Lola."

"Yeah," Lola muttered, "I'll... keep that in mind."

...

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. It was an excellent feat, winning a game of Quidditch with Snape as the referee. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomftey says he'll be all right - talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

Harry could hardly take on all this information, so he simply nodded ferociously.

"Congratulations, Harry," said Lola warmly, her demeanour coy. She had never felt so nervous around a boy before, let alone a boy 5 years her junior (well, not physically but mentally). And also a fictional character but in the flesh. Her situation was unique, to say the least.

"Thanks!" Harry grinned, which warmed Lola's heart.

The celebration in the common room was in full swing by the time they arrived. Gryffindors filled the room, cheering and laughing as they recounted the game. Fred and George had indeed managed to sneak cakes, butterbeer, and even a few shrunken lanterns from the kitchens, which now floated around, casting a warm glow over the party.

"Here's to the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever seen!" Fred declared, lifting a bottle of butterbeer in Harry's direction.

Harry grinned, looking bashfully down at his feet, while everyone clinked their drinks together. Lola was swept up in the excitement, and as she laughed and chatted with the others, she began to feel more at home here than she ever thought she could. The sheer energy, the loyalty, and the unwavering camaraderie—it was everything she'd loved about Hogwarts as a reader but now so much more vivid.

She caught Hermione's eye and raised her pumpkin juice in a silent toast, which Hermione returned with a warm smile, looking as if she, too, had found her place in this vibrant chaos.

As the night wore on, Lola found herself next to Harry, leaning back against the couch as they watched the others. "Quite a night, huh?" she said, nudging him lightly.

Harry nodded, still grinning. "I don't think I'll ever forget it. It's moments like this that make all the other stuff worth it."

Lola glanced at him, surprised by the maturity in his words. She wondered if he had any idea how much he meant to those around him—how he brought people together, even in the most uncertain of times.

"Hey, Lola," Harry said, glancing at her with a curious look. "Do you really think you could see the future?"

She laughed, thinking of Dumbledore's sudden assumption about her being a Seer. "To be honest, Harry, I'm as surprised as you are. But I think… maybe we all have a bit of the future in us. Sometimes it's just knowing what's right, trusting your gut."

He seemed to ponder that for a moment, then looked into Lola's eyes. "What do you think your gut tells you about my future?" he asked wearily.

Lola gasped before gaining her composure. She probably, and ironically, knew the most about his future, more than anyone else's in the room. It was frightening, trying to decipher what she could and could not share with him. Dumbledore's words about fate still echoed in her mind loudly.

"I don't know, Harry," she responded, putting on her best clueless face on. "I think you will be just fine."

In that moment, they weren't a student and a Seer, or a hero and a mysterious newcomer. They were simply two friends, sharing a rare moment of peace in the swirling chaos of life at Hogwarts. And what a life it was proving to be...

...

"Hermione, the exams are ages away." Ron groaned as the posse walked behind her to the library.

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

Hermione glared at him, looking ready to explode, so Fay stepped in by saying "I agree with Hermione, Ron. The amount of homework piled on us should get some of our Professors into Azkaban!"

Lola was happy to go to the library. Not to study, as she had been doing that incrementally like Hermione, maybe a bit more than her, since she had other things to tend to as well. Such as her secret notebook listing all the events that she could remember would come along in the first book. She did feel quite tired, exhausted in fact, from having to wear so many hats at once. She wouldn't change it for the world, though.

As they sat down in a quiet corner of the library, Lola looked down at her notes.

Christmas Break (done)

Quidditch Game (done)

Dragon Egg

Forbidden Forest

Trapdoor Challenge

Final Confrontation

Lola was nervous. Now that the Quidditch game had been played, soon Hagrid would divulge too much information while trying to acquire a Dragon Egg from Professor Quirrel. The final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort - she even hesitated thinking about the name - was drawing nearer and nearer.

Then, a brilliant idea occurred to her. What if, maybe, just maybe - she could convince Dumbledore to get the stone out of Hogwarts without anyone's knowledge? He believed she was a Seer, after all, and perhaps the final events in the pages of the Philosopher's Stone could be avoided altogether.

Or was this too dangerous for all of them? Playing with fate is like playing with fire, she repeated in her mind. I can't afford to burn myself or anyone else.

As her friends gleefully studied around her, Lola was left feeling completely alone once again.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and/or favorite and follow the story to show your support!