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Chapter Text

Hogwarts’ corridors stretched like shadowed veins, torchlight flickering against the stone walls as Ginny and Ursa headed to the infirmary. The air was thick with the chill of mid-December, frost limning the arched windows, and Ginny’s boots echoed softly, her Gryffindor leathers creaking with each purposeful stride. Ursa walked beside her, her emerald eyes glinting with curiosity as she clutched Harry’s leather-bound journal under one arm, her Slytherin robes whispering against the flagstones.

She glanced sideways. “Ginny, did Harry really buy La Tour Du Nord, the most luxurious wizarding restaurant in France, just for a date with Apolline?”

Ginny chuckled. “Oh, absolutely. That’s Harry in a nutshell; going all out for his girls.” Her smirk widened, her brown eyes dancing with mischief as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. “You know, when he takes you on a date, he’ll probably buy a castle just to have a moment alone with you.”

Ursa’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, her fingers tightening on the journal as she snapped it shut with a quick flick of her wrist. “Your teasing won’t work on me anymore,” she said, her voice firm but betrayed by a slight quiver, her posture straightening defiantly though her blush deepened.

“Oh really?” Ginny’s smirk sharpened, her head tilting as she slid closer, her braid brushing Ursa’s arm. “Guess I’ve been too subtle, then. Time to up my game, Black.”

They rounded the corner to the infirmary doors, the scent of healing potions and crisp linens wafting out as Ginny pushed them open with a soft creak. The room was dimly lit, beds lined in neat rows, but Luna sat upright on hers, her silvery hair cascading like moonlight, wand raised and glowing faintly as if mid-incantation. Ginny’s eyes widened, her hand snapping up as she summoned her wand.

Luna’s misty blue eyes flicked to her, a dreamy smile curving her lips, but Ginny didn’t hesitate. She slashed her wand in a rapid sequence, spells bursting forth in a cascade of light: “Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous! Impedimenta!” And then, silently, a final Expelliarmus, invisible and swift.

Luna’s wand twirled lazily, her voice a whimsical hum as she deflected each one with effortless grace—red bolt shattering against an invisible shield, binding wave dissipating like mist, ropes unraveling mid-air, slowing hex fizzling out. But the silent spell caught her off guard; her wand flew from her grasp, arcing toward Ginny, who snatched it mid-flight with a triumphant grin. Luna cocked an eyebrow, her radish earrings swaying as she tilted her head, her expression one of amused surprise. “Impressive, Gin!”

Ginny’s cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and exasperation at the praise, her braid swinging as she held the wand. But it was Ursa who spoke, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her emerald eyes glinting curiously. “How are you this capable with a wand, Luna? Did Harry train you too?”

Luna’s smile widened, her misty blue eyes sparkling as she shook her head gently. “He didn’t,” she replied, her voice drifting like a gentle fog. “He did teach me the Patronus, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.” Ursa shook her head in confirmation, and Luna nodded. “When my counterpart from Harry’s previous world realized this earth is the one he’s been looking for, she wanted to make sure I could support him as much as possible. That’s why she trained me in a lot of things, including self-defense. But we eventually had to stop because I only have half of my Transcendence, and we couldn’t keep on draining hers. So, we never got to advanced subjects like wandless magic.”

Ginny nodded thoughtfully, her flush fading as she absorbed the explanation. “Good to know,” she said, then pocketed Luna’s wand, her voice scolding but laced with affection. “Lu, you need to stop using your magic. You’re still recovering.” She crossed her arms, her leathers creaking, her brown eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to the bed.

Ursa chuckled softly from the doorway. “She did tell Harry she’d stun you until you recovered fully.”

Luna’s laugh was light, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, her misty eyes sparkling as she patted the bed beside her. “My fiery Gin is very protective of me, isn’t she?”

Ginny huffed, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hand covering Luna’s. “You said you don’t know wandless magic, so I’m keeping your wand until you’re fully recovered. No more spells for you.”

Luna’s lips twitched in amusement as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m the heiress of my house, Gin. I have a spare wand.” She winked, her posture relaxed against the pillows.

Ginny shook her head, her braid swaying. “Argh. Of course, you do.”

Luna’s gaze softened, her voice drifting like a gentle fog. “You don’t need to worry so much, my love. I’m almost at full strength. Madam Pomfrey says I should be fully recovered by the morning after the Yule Ball, and we know how important that morning will be.”

Ursa stepped closer, her brows furrowing curiously as she crossed her arms, her robes rustling. “What’s significant about the morning after the Yule Ball?”

“Every pureblood heir and heiress will be taking the Hogwarts Express home to prepare for the annual gala at Greengrass Manor,” Luna answered. “House Black and House Greengrass have shared whispers through the ages. Whenever one of them was the host, they’d have the other make a speech. Since Harry will become Lord Black before the gala, everyone will want to be there, drifting like nargles to a mistletoe bush.”

Ursa nodded in understanding. Then, she noticed the look of exasperation on Ginny’s face, and she chuckled. “Even after being out of commission for days, you still know things. How do you do it?”

Luna laughed softly. “I only know this because I was there during the planning stage with Harry and Sally, Mermaid.”

Ursa blinked, her cheeks tinting pink as she uncrossed her arms, her fingers brushing her curls. “Luna, you don’t need to call me ‘Mermaid’ anymore. My name is Ursa. Ursa Druella Black.”

Luna’s smile widened. “Please to meet you too, Mermaid.”

Ursa shook her head with a reluctant chuckle, her posture relaxing as she leaned against the bedpost. “What else did Harry plan with Slytherin? I don’t know anything because I was busy building the cave where the Vinculum happened.”

Luna’s expression turned thoughtful, her fingers lacing with Ginny’s. “Harry’s plan is to legitimize his blood purity, like polishing a forgotten gem until it shines for all to see. Even as Heir Black, and Lord Black very soon, some old guards still see him as an imposter. He needs to silence them completely.”

Ginny’s brow furrowed, her thumb brushing Luna’s knuckles as she leaned closer, her voice curious. “How?”

Luna’s gaze drifted to the ceiling as if consulting invisible stars. “Over Harry’s journey, he has been in every House of Hogwarts. And at one point or another, the founders made him their rightful heir. At the gala, he’ll announce he’s not just Lord Black; he’s also the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin.” She smirked faintly. “And he’ll poke at Tom, like a niffler at a shiny trinket. He’ll say the Gaunt on the Sacred Twenty-Eight are pretenders. Sally had two children: Gaunt, his firstborn, and Isobel. Gaunt was disowned because he was a squib. Consumed by rage, he eventually murdered his sister to claim the bloodline that he renamed from Slytherin to Gaunt. But what he didn’t know was that Isobel had a child outside marriage, whom Sally disowned at first. After her death, though, he accepted his bastard grandson and made him heir. Yet Sally bound him with an Unbreakable Vow to never ascend to Lord Slytherin until they were powerful enough.”

Ursa blinked, her voice hesitant. “Is Gaunt’s story true?”

Luna laughed, a dreamy chime that echoed softly, her head shaking. “In another universe. But not here. Harry is Lord Slytherin because Sally made it so. And through the Serpent’s Grace, basilisk blood courses his veins. The Lotus parchment will confirm it, blooming truth for all to see. At that point, no one will question his blood purity. After all, who is more pure than Salazar Slytherin himself?”

Ginny nodded in understanding. “And when will Harry become Lord Black?”

Luna’s gaze drifted to the ceiling for a moment. “In the next couple of days,” she replied dreamily. “I’ve already spoken with my dad about it, and he will support Harry during the Wizengamot emergency session. Harry anticipates it’ll end in a vote, and he’ll need all the backing he can get. My dad mentioned he’d try to talk to Lord Greengrass, but House Greengrass is part of the neutral faction, so Darius will almost definitely abstain. By now, Harry should have already spoken to Lily about his plan to make a difference, which means James will support him. And since James and Alice Longbottom get along so well, James probably reached out to her on behalf of Harry. Amy, as both Lady of House Bones and Head of the DMLE, will support him too. As for the rest of the vote… well, it’ll come down to Harry’s speech.”

Ginny leaned forward, her brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s his speech going to be—” The words died in her throat, her eyes widening as a prickle raced across her skin. She glanced at Ursa, her whisper urgent. “Carrows.”

Ursa nodded sharply, her form shimmering in a ripple of silver light: curls softening to silvery wisps, emerald eyes fading to misty blue, Slytherin robes shifting to Ravenclaw’s bronze-trimmed blue. She was Luna now, her posture dreamy, radish earrings glinting faintly as she tilted her head, waiting.

The real Luna chuckled softly, her misty eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched, her fingers still laced with Ginny’s. “Oh, this should be delightful,” she murmured, her voice whimsical, like sharing a secret with the stars.

Ginny cleared her throat, her voice deliberately casual as she turned to Ursa-as-Luna. “Lu, where’d Harry run off to this time?” She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms over her leathers, her tone light but laced with curiosity, as if gossiping with a friend.

Ursa, as Luna, twirled a strand of silvery hair around her finger, her voice a lilting murmur. “Oh, Harry’s in Milan, Gin, picking out his Yule Ball robes. Something dreadfully dashing, I imagine, to make all the Wrackspurts jealous.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Milan, huh? Any idea who his date is? He’s been so secretive about it.” Her voice carried a hint of mock frustration, her lips twitching as she glanced at Ursa, ensuring the performance landed.

Ursa’s smile widened, her Luna-voice soft and conspiratorial. “Not a clue, I’m afraid. Quite the mystery, our Harry.” She paused, her gaze flickering to Ginny. “Were you hoping to be his date, Ginny? You two do have… a certain sparkle together.”

Ginny’s cheeks flushed faintly, but she waved a hand dismissively, her laugh a touch too loud. “Me? Nah, Harry didn’t want to put a spotlight on me. Too much scrutiny for me and my family, you know? He’s being all noble about it.” She shrugged, her braid swinging, her eyes darting to the journal as she stood, stretching with a casual air. “Anyway, I’m off to practice with that broom he got me. Need to keep my skills sharp.”

Ursa gasped, her Luna-eyes widening dramatically, her voice a playful whisper. “Is that a Nimbus 2001? Oh, Ginny, you must keep that a secret! Imagine the Nargles swarming if everyone knew you and Harry were… well, you know.”

Ginny grinned. “Exactly. Mom would have a fit if word got out. Anyways. Catch you later, Lu.”

Ursa handed Harry’s journal to Ginny as her form shimmered into Ginny. And with a wave of Slytherin’s wand, she transfigured her Slytherin robes into Ginny’s Gryffindor colors, accentuated with leather. She winked at Ginny and Luna before she turned, striding toward the infirmary door, her boots thudding softly. The moment the door clicked shut, Ginny flipped open the journal, her eyes tracing the fresh transcript.

Flora’s voice scrawled across the page, petulant and sharp: “It’s freezing out there, Tia. And dark. Why do we have to chase Weasley to the courtyard?”

Hestia’s reply was teasing: “Quit whining, Flo. We could always get Rose to order you around instead. Bet you’d love that.”

Flora’s retort was a hiss: “Will you ever let that go?”

Hestia’s laugh echoed in the ink: “Never.”

Ginny’s brow arched, her lips pursing. “Rose?” She beckoned. “What do they want with Rose?”

“Find out,” uttered Luna. “You have the means to do it.”

Ginny smirked and nodded. “That I do.” She turned back to Luna, her smirk fading into a gentle concern as she pulled Luna’s wand from her pocket. She held it out, her voice soft and pleading. “No more magic until you’re recovered. Please.”

Luna took the wand, her misty eyes softening as she tucked it under her pillow. “I’m doing it for Daph, Gin.”

Ginny gasped, her eyes widening with realization, her braid swinging as she leaned closer. “You’re… You’re… Merlin.”

Luna winked, her radish earrings swaying as she tilted her head dreamily. “The stars suggested it might be time. How’s it going with Cho?”

Ginny’ sat on the bed’s edge again as she said, “Nothing’s changed, but I have something planned.” Her fingers intertwined with Luna’s, her brown eyes sparkling. “It’ll be awesome.”

Luna’s smile was warm and ethereal, her thumb tracing circles on Ginny’s hand. “Have fun, my love. The nargles will guide you.” She leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss, Ginny’s hand cupping Luna’s face gently.

Ginny pulled back, her breath steadying as she stood, her leathers creaking. “I need to go. Be good.” She winked, striding toward the door with a final glance over her shoulder, the infirmary’s orbs casting a soft glow on her retreating form.

*****

The castle’s stone corridors blurred past as Ursa, in Ginny’s form, hurried from the infirmary, her Gryffindor robes swishing with each purposeful stride. The Nimbus 2001 rested lightly against her shoulder, its polished handle cool under her fingers, and her auburn braid bounced as she reached the courtyard’s open air. Moonlight bathed the frost-kissed cobblestones, the night sharp with winter’s bite, and Ursa’s breath puffed in silvery clouds as she swung a leg over the broom. With a kick, she launched skyward, the Nimbus humming beneath her as she carved through the crisp air, weaving tight loops and daring spirals with a skill that belied her borrowed body. She smirked as she sensed two figures approaching from the shadows, their magic prickling against her skin like static.

Flora and Hestia emerged into the moonlight, their raven hair gleaming. Ursa let the broom dip, executing a flashy barrel roll before spiraling downward, her movements deliberate, a peacock’s strut in the sky. She landed with a soft thud, boots crunching on frost, and propped the Nimbus against her hip, her smirk widening as she caught the twins’ admiring stares.

Flora’s hazel eyes sparkled with approval, her lips curling as she clapped slowly, her voice a sultry purr. “You’ve got some serious skill up there, Ginny.”

Ursa tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, feigning a shy flush as she scuffed her boot against the cobblestone, her voice soft but warm. “Thanks, Flora. Didn’t expect an audience.” She tilted her head, her brown eyes flickering between the twins, a hint of suspicion lacing her tone. “Something you two wanted?”

Hestia stepped closer, her hips swaying, her hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “We were wondering if you’d given our offer of friendship any thought.”

Ursa’s shoulders stiffened, her lips parting in a defensive huff as she clutched the Nimbus tighter, her knuckles whitening. “I have, but… I need to talk to Harry about it first.” Her voice wavered, a perfect mimicry of Ginny’s fiery stubbornness, her cheeks flushing as she glanced away, feigning discomfort.

Flora’s brow arched, her smirk sharp as she crossed her arms, her robes pulling tight across her chest. “Harry? What’s he got to do with this?”

Ursa’s eyes flashed, her voice rising with a defensive snap. “Nothing! I just… he’s friends with Luna, and I want to know what he thinks about you two.” She bit her lip, her gaze darting to the side, her fingers fidgeting with the broom’s handle as if she’d said too much.

Hestia’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her voice a velvet taunt as she closed the distance. “Come on, Ginny. You don’t need a man to make your decisions for you. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Ursa’s jaw tightened, her brown eyes blazing as she squared her shoulders, her voice rising with a fiery edge. “Asking someone I trust for their opinion doesn’t mean they’re controlling me, Hestia!” She jabbed a finger toward the twin. “It’s called loyalty. Maybe you wouldn’t get it.”

Hestia laughed, a low, throaty sound, unfazed as she tilted her head, her hair spilling over one shoulder. “Loyalty’s fine, Ginny. But Harry’s never around, is he? How would he even know what we’re like?”

Ursa raised her head in defiance. “He’s around more than you think. I was with him in the Astronomy Tower last week, actually.” Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes darting away as if she’d let a secret slip, her shoulders hunching slightly as she gripped the Nimbus like a lifeline.

Flora and Hestia exchanged a glance, their smirks mirroring each other, sharp and triumphant. Hestia’s voice was smooth, coaxing. “That so? Well, your dress from Madam Malkin’s should arrive just in time for the Yule Ball. Maybe Harry could give his opinion on it. You know? To see if your attires match.”

Ursa’s lips parted, her voice a flustered rush as she shook her head, her auburn braid swinging. “Match? No way, Harry’s in Milan right now, buying his own outfit for the Ball.” She froze, her eyes widening as she muttered under her breath, “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.” Her hand clapped over her mouth again, her cheeks burning as she glanced away, her act of panic convincing.

Flora’s smirk deepened, her voice a low purr as she stepped closer, her hips swaying. “Oh, Ginny, you know so much about Harry, don’t you? Bet he’s the one who taught you those Quidditch moves. You’re leagues above your brothers.” Her hazel eyes sparkled with cunning, her fingers trailing along the Nimbus’s handle.

Ursa’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with defensive heat as she yanked the broom back, her posture stiffening. “It wasn’t Harry who taught me! I’ve been practicing for years, okay?” Her voice cracked, her brown eyes flashing as she stepped back, her breath hitching with feigned indignation.

Hestia chuckled, her tone soothing. “No need to get defensive, Ginny. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends keep secrets.” Her smile was sly, her eyes locked on Ursa’s as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Like how we’re not telling anyone we bought your dress for the Ball. The whole school would be buzzing if they knew, but we’re keeping it quiet. Because you’re our friend.”

Flora nodded, her lips curling as she stepped to Ursa’s other side. “And we won’t tell anyone Harry gave you that Nimbus 2001 either.”

Ursa gasped, her eyes widening as she clutched the broom tighter, her voice a shaky whisper. “How—how do you know about that?” Her brown eyes darted between the twins, her cheeks flushing with panic.

Hestia’s smirk was wicked, her voice a soft tease as she leaned in, her breath warm against Ursa’s ear. “That’s our little secret, just like everything you tell us stays between us.”

Ursa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, her voice softening as she bit her lip, her eyes flickering with feigned reluctance. “Fine… it was Harry. He gave me the broom, but he didn’t teach me how to fly. But he did teach me some… other stuff. I’m not great at it, though.” Her voice was coy, her brown eyes darting up to meet Hestia’s, then Flora’s, her lips twitching with a shy smile.

Flora’s brow arched, her voice a sultry challenge as she crossed her arms, her robes pulling tight across her chest. “Other stuff? Such as?”

Ursa hesitated, her fingers tightening on the Nimbus as she glanced around the courtyard, her voice a soft murmur. “It’s… a secret. We’d need somewhere private.” Her eyes flickered with nervousness, her act drawing the twins in as she shifted her weight, her boots scuffing the frost.

Hestia’s smirk widened, her voice a velvet lure as she grabbed Ursa’s arm. “Then let’s go.” Her hazel eyes glinted with anticipation, her raven hair swaying as she tugged Ursa toward the castle, Flora falling into step beside them.

The first-floor bathroom was dim, and a gaggle of first- and second-years froze as the twins stormed in, their presence commanding. Hestia’s voice was a sharp hiss, her hazel eyes flashing. “Out.” The younger girls scurried away, their giggles fading as the door slammed shut, leaving the three alone in the echoing space.

Flora pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it around, casting spells that Ursa recognized to be temporary silencing and privacy wards. When she was done, she put her wand away and turned to Ursa, her hands on her hips. “Private like you wanted.”

Ursa tilted her head, her brown eyes narrowing as she feigned hesitation. “One at a time, or both of you together?” Her tone was cautious, her fingers twitching as she set the Nimbus against the sink, her posture tense but calculated.

Hestia’s brow furrowed, her voice sharp with confusion as she exchanged a glance with Flora. “Does it matter?”

Ursa nodded, her voice a low murmur as she stepped closer, her eyes flickering between the twins. “I’m not strong enough to do it one at a time.”

Flora and Hestia shared a look, their smirks mirroring each other as they nodded in unison, their voices a sultry chorus. “Together, then.” Flora’s tone was eager, her hazel eyes darkening as she stepped forward, her hips swaying.

Ursa’s voice was firm, her eyes glinting with a hidden edge as she pointed to the floor. “Kneel.” Her tone was commanding, a perfect echo of Ginny’s fire.

Flora scoffed, her lips curling in disgust as she crossed her arms, her voice dripping with disdain. “No.”

Ursa shrugged, her smirk faint but deliberate as she turned toward the door, her voice casual. “Fine. If you don’t want to see it, I’m leaving.” She took a step, her boots echoing on the tiles, her hand reaching for the Nimbus.

Hestia’s hand shot out, grabbing Ursa’s wrist. “Wait.” Her hazel eyes softened, her grip firm as she glanced at Flora, who sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping. Slowly though reluctantly, the twins sank to their knees, Flora’s jaw tight, her eyes blazing with defiance.

Ursa hid a smirk, her brown eyes glinting as she turned back, stepping closer until she loomed over them. She reached out, her hands hovering near their throats. “Here we go.” The twins tensed, their breaths hitching as Ursa’s fingers closed around their throats, her touch light but deliberate, her magic humming beneath her skin.

Flora and Hestia froze, their hazel eyes wide as they waited, their breaths shallow. Nothing happened. Flora’s lips parted, her voice a bored whine. “Is something supposed to—” Her words cut off as Ursa pulled, a sharp, sudden siphon of their magic, a jagged pulse of ozone and midnight rain flooding her veins. The twins gasped, their bodies arching as the sensation hit—a euphoric ache, raw and electric, just like Harry’s touch in that classroom. Flora’s moan was soft, her lips parting as her eyes fluttered shut, while Hestia’s breath hitched, her nails digging into her thighs, her voice a shaky whimper. “Oh, fuck…”

Ursa’s grip tightened, her fingers pressing firmer against their throats, and she pulled deeper, the siphon intensifying into a relentless torrent. Their magic surged into her like a storm unleashed—electric pulses crackling through her veins, tasting sharper now, a heady blend of ozone and shadowed spice that made her own body hum with borrowed power. Flora’s moan deepened into a throaty cry, her back arching sharply as her hands clutched at Ursa’s wrists, nails biting into skin, her raven hair whipping as tremors rippled through her frame. Hestia’s breath shattered into ragged gasps, her thighs clenching together, hips bucking involuntarily as waves of ecstasy crashed over her, her hazel eyes rolling back, a sheen of sweat glistening on her flushed skin.

The air thickened with their shared heat, the wet sounds of their shifting robes and desperate whimpers echoing off the tiles. Ursa felt it building in them—their bodies coiling tight, breaths syncing in frantic rhythm, teetering on the brink of release. Just as their moans peaked, raw and unrestrained, she sensed the climax cresting and released her hold, the flow severing like a snapped thread.

The twins’ eyes snapped open, their faces flushed, their voices desperate as they leaned forward. “Why’d you stop?” Flora demanded, her voice a needy rasp, her raven hair clinging to her sweat-damp brow.

Hestia’s hands clenched, her voice trembling with frustration. “Keep going!” Her hazel eyes burned, her body trembling as she gripped Flora’s arm, her nails biting into the fabric.

Ursa shook her head, her breath coming in labored gasps as she stepped back, one hand pressing against the sink for support, her auburn braid slipping over her shoulder. “I… I can’t,” she murmured, her voice weak and strained, brown eyes half-lidded with feigned exhaustion. “It’s making me so tired. If I keep going, it could hurt me… make me pass out.”

Hestia took a few deep breaths as she rose to her feet, her disheveled hair framing her flushed face as she stepped closer. “We’ll give you whatever you want, Ginny. Just do it again.”

Flora’s eyes narrowed, her frustration twisting into urgency as she rose unsteadily, her robes swishing around her trembling legs, hands gesturing wildly. “The Yule Ball dress is nothing. We’ll buy you more dresses, and uniforms too. Whatever you want.”

Ursa’s expression shifted, her eyes widening with offense as she straightened, clutching the sink tighter, her knuckles whitening. “I just told you it could hurt me, but you… you ignored that?” Her voice cracked with hurt, shoulders hunching. “What kind of friends only care about pleasure instead of… Don’t ever come close to me again.”

Flora’s lips parted in a rush of panic, her hand reaching out. “Wait, Ginny—” But Ursa spun on her heel, grabbing the broom and storming through the door, the wood slamming shut behind her with a resounding echo, leaving the twins frozen in the dim light.

As she strode through the castle’s shadowed corridors, Ursa’s smirk broke free, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she shook her head, her borrowed brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Hope you’re having as much fun as I did, Ginny,” she murmured to herself as she headed to the Room of Requirement.

*****

Ginny approached the Slytherin common room’s bare wall and whispered, “Serpent’s ambition.” The stone rumbled, parting to reveal the common room’s cavernous glow, the Black Lake’s greenish shimmer casting patterns across velvet couches and silver-trimmed tables. Students lounged in clusters, their murmurs hushing as Ginny entered, sporting her Daphne allure, her head high, her icy blue eyes sweeping the room with calculated indifference.

She made for the girls’ dormitories, her steps purposeful, when a sharp voice cut through the hum. “Daphne!” Pansy stood, her dark bob framing a face flushed with irritation, her brown eyes narrowing as she planted her hands on her hips, her Slytherin robes hugging her curves. “What the hell’s going on with you and the Potter cub?”

Ginny turned, her lips curling into a dismissive sneer, Daphne’s cool arrogance effortless. “Mind your own business, Pansy,” she said, her voice a low, cutting drawl, her icy eyes glinting as she tossed her platinum hair. “You’re not my keeper.”

Pansy’s cheeks reddened, her voice rising, sharp and accusatory. “You’re risking your title as Slytherin’s Ice Queen, cavorting with that Gryffindor. People are talking, Daphne.” Her gaze darting to the students now watching, their whispers a soft buzz.

Ginny’s smirk sharpened, her eyes flashing with mischief as she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Maybe you should shove that advice up your ass.” She leaned in, her breath warm against Pansy’s ear. “Or maybe you’re just needy because you want Harry to shove something else up there, hm?” She pulled back, winking, her icy eyes dancing as the common room fell silent, all eyes on them.

Pansy’s face flamed, her mouth opening and closing, stammering as she clutched her robes. “That’s— that’s not—” Her voice faltered, her eyes darting to Draco, who sat across the room, his pale face twisted with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. Ginny’s smirk widened, relishing the chaos, and she turned, her platinum hair swishing as she sauntered toward the dormitories, leaving Pansy to stutter explanations to a fuming Draco.

The girls’ dormitory was dim, its air thick with perfume, beds draped in green silk. Ginny slipped into the third-year section, her movements silent, her icy eyes scanning the space. She found Flora and Hestia’s trunks, their initials etched in gold, and knelt, her fingers deftly picking the locks with a whispered “Alohomora.” Inside, she found their diaries—leather-bound, their pages worn from use. She set Harry’s journal beside them, its runes faintly glowing, and raised her wand, her voice a soft, deliberate murmur. “Quaero Veritas,” she intoned, the custom spell humming with intent. Harry’s journal flipped open, its pages rustling until they stopped a quarter of the way through, revealing an incantation: Revelio Scriptum, a spell to unlock hidden entries.

Ginny cast the spell on each diary, her wand tip sparking. One diary remained shut, but the other sprang open, its pages flipping themselves until they came to a halt at an entry dated a week and a few days ago. Ginny skimmed the text, Flora’s words spilled across the page, raw and unfiltered.

Rose Potter in the courtyard—Merlin, she’s a force. The way she disarmed us, forced us to kneel, her amber eyes burning like fire… I couldn’t look away. My thighs were trembling as I knelt in the snow, her wand at my throat, her voice commanding me to beg. I wanted her to push me further, to pin me down, to make me scream her name. She was so dominant, it’s intoxicating.

Ginny’s pulse quickened, her breath catching as she realized Flora’s craving for dominance fit perfectly with the plan she’d crafted before Harry’s involvement, a plan to manipulate the twins’ desires and desperation to her advantage. She closed the diary, returning it to its place with care, her smirk sharp as she stood, her Slytherin robes rustling.

She glanced around the dim dormitory, the air thick with the faint scent of lavender and ink. She needed more, something else that she could use. She took Harry’s journal again and murmured, “Quaero Veritas,” her wand tip glowing faintly as she directed it at the pages.

The journal’s pages turned until they settled on an entry titled Revelio Occultum, a charm Harry had devised in his eighty-seventh world, designed to reveal hidden objects or compartments tied to a specific intent or person. It worked by attuning to the caster’s query, drawing out concealed items with a subtle magnetic pull, though it couldn’t pierce illusions or advanced wards.

She raised her wand, focusing on the Carrows’ secrets, and whispered, “Revelio Occultum.” A faint hum filled the air, and her gaze snapped to Hestia’s nightstand, where the drawer rattled insistently, as if something inside were straining to burst free. Ginny’s pulse quickened as she approached quietly, her boots silent on the carpeted floor, and eased the drawer open with a gentle tug.

Inside lay an ornate golden box, its surface etched with swirling vines and locked with a intricate clasp that gleamed under the low light. It had been the source of the rattling, vibrating faintly as if eager to reveal itself. Ginny’s fingers brushed its cool metal, and she tried the obvious first: “Alohomora.” The box didn’t budge, the clasp unmoving, a soft ward-like shimmer rippling across it.

Undeterred, she cast “Quaero Veritas” on Harry’s journal again, watching as the pages flipped to another spell: Aperio Arcanum. Harry’s notes described it as a versatile unlocking charm that bypassed most mechanical and magical locks like keys, basic, even advanced locking enchantments, though it faltered against runic wards, blood wards, or complex goblin-forged protections.

Ginny pointed her wand at the box, her voice steady: “Aperio Arcanum.” A soft click echoed, and the clasp sprang open, the lid lifting on its own with a faint creak. Inside nestled a bundle of letters, tied with a faded ribbon, their parchment yellowed and edges worn from handling.

Her heart racing, Ginny cast Revelio Occultum once more, attuning it to secrets involving her or Harry. One letter leaped from the pile, fluttering into her hand like an eager bird. She unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the elegant, slanted script, dated two days before the Carrows had targeted her with their eavesdropping spells.

Dear Daughters,

The failure of Auris Aperta was no accident; it was a calculated test, a probe to measure the strength of Potter’s defenses. His wards are formidable, as expected of one raised by the Blacks. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed, and they pave the way for our next move.

I task you now with a new spell: Murus Frango. This spell should pierce his wards, granting you access to Auris Aperta. This is your key to knowing the boy’s spoken words, even where he feels safest.

Succeed, and your personal vaults at Gringotts will be doubled in galleons, a reward for your loyalty and skill. Fail, and your access to those vaults will be revoked until your next school year. You have your orders; now, execute them.

Your Father and Lord,

Amycus Carrow

Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she recognized “Murus Frango”, the very spell Hestia had tried against Harry when he was on his way to Azkaban. If that one was meant to breach wards, then “Auris Aperta” was the eavesdropping charm they had used on her in their first encounter. She finally knew the incantation for it; it could come in handy later. For now, she folded the letter, tucking it back into the bundle. She readied to cast Revelio Occultum again when faint footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, approaching the dormitory door.

Her pulse spiked; she waved her wand in a swift arc, returning the letters to their ribbon, then to the box, and then everything to the drawer with seamless precision. The nightstand settled just as the footsteps grew louder. Ginny’s eyes darted around the room, assessing her options. She couldn’t risk being caught here, and using the Disillusionment charm was out of the question because there was always a chance the ones approaching could use Homenum Revelio for one reason or another.

“Control perception,” she muttered to herself as she recalled Harry’s lesson. All she needed was making it look as though Daphne was supposed to be there. She glanced around herself, searching for anything she could use. All she saw was beds and trunks. “That’s it,” she said to herself. She hurried, scanning each bed accompanied with each trunk, noting the initials, until she finally spotted, A.G. for Astoria Greengrass on the farthest one, its green silk covers neatly made.

She hurried over, sinking onto Astoria’s bed with feigned nonchalance, flipping open Harry’s journal and pretending to read, her posture relaxed but her senses alert. The door creaked open, and two figures entered: Daphne leading, her platinum hair catching the dim light, followed by Astoria with similar features—pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and icy blue eyes framed by straight blonde hair that fell to her shoulders.

Astoria’s eyes widened at the sight of another Daphne lounging on her bed. “What the—” Her hand instinctively reached into her sleeve for her wand, her stance shifting into a defensive crouch, shoes scraping the floor.

Daphne’s hand shot out, gripping Astoria’s wrist gently but firmly, halting her. She chuckled, a low sound that echoed softly in the room, her icy blue eyes glinting with amusement. “You really need to be more prudent, Ginny.” Her lips curved into a sly smile, her posture relaxed as she released Astoria’s arm.

Astoria cocked an eyebrow, her wand hand relaxing but her gaze flicking between the two identical figures, suspicion lingering in her narrowed eyes. “Ginny? As in… Weasley?”

Ginny rose from the bed with a fluid grace, her smirk mirroring Daphne’s as she nodded, her platinum hair swaying. “The one and only,” she confirmed, brushing off her robes with a casual flick.

Daphne gestured between them, her voice warm with introduction. “Astoria, meet Ginny Weasley, currently borrowing my face. Ginny, this is my sister, Astoria Greengrass.”

Astoria’s lips quirked into a mischievous grin, her icy eyes sparkling. “Nice to meet you, Ginny fake-Daphne Weasley.” She gave a mock curtsey, her tone playful.

Daphne rolled her eyes, a fond exasperation crossing her features as she shook her head, her platinum hair shifting. “Shouldn’t you be doing something important right now?”

Astoria’s eyes widened in realization, her hand flying to her mouth with a soft “Oops.” She straightened, hurrying to her trunk at the foot of her bed, flipping it open with a click. She rummaged through its contents—robes, books, and trinkets scattering slightly—until she pulled out a mokeskin pouch, its leather supple and enchanted to hold far more than its size suggested. Next came dresses, skirts and blouses, and then, a heavy coat with a deep hood, thick enough for bitter cold, and sturdy boots laced with protective charms.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow as she watched Astoria bundle the items. “Going somewhere?”

Astoria nodded absently, stuffing her belongings into the mokeskin pouch with practiced efficiency. “Just a little trip.”

Ginny’s gaze flicked to Daphne, her brow arching higher. “And you?”

Daphne shook her head, leaning against the bedpost with a casual shrug, her wand still twirling idly. “No. These are Astoria’s private trips.”

Astoria finished packing, slinging the pouch around her waist before turning to Daphne. She leaned in, planting a quick peck on her sister’s lips. “I’m off,” she said, her voice bright.

Daphne’s expression turned serious, her hand lingering on Astoria’s arm for a moment. “Be careful out there.”

Astoria winked, her icy blue eyes gleaming with confidence as she went toward the door. “Always am.” With that, she slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving a faint echo in the dormitory.

As Ginny watched the door close, Daphne’s voice broke the silence again, repeating with a teasing lilt: “You really need to be more prudent, Ginny. Two Daphnes wandering the common room? People will talk.”

Ginny’s smirk mirrored Daphne’s, her icy eyes dancing as she headed for the door. “Maybe we should go downstairs and find out what they’d say.”

Daphne’s chuckle deepened, her eyes narrowing with mock exasperation. “No time for that. I’m working on a puzzle Luna gave me.”

Ginny nodded as they reached the door. She opened it and leaned against the doorframe, her posture relaxed but playful. “Does it involve Incendio? She tried it with me, but I don’t do subtle with fire spells.”

Daphne’s heart skipped a beat as she came to a halt beside Ginny. “You know the ‘constellation’ thing she promised at the end?”

She nodded, her icy eyes locked on Daphne’s. “It’s infinitely better than anything you can imagine and dream combined. Literally.”

Daphne’s eyes lit up, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she clutched her wand tighter, her voice eager. “Really? Merlin, I’m going to crack it if it kills me.” Her smile was bright, almost childlike.

Ginny grinned, her voice softening. “Your best will be more than enough, Daphne.”

Daphne laughed, rolling her eyes. “Corny, Ginny.” Her tone turned serious, her gaze sharpening. “But we do need to coordinate these incursions. Two Daphnes is a risk we can’t keep taking.”

Ginny nodded, her smirk returning as she adjusted her robes. “I’m working on a solution. It’ll be ready before the Yule Ball.” She paused, her voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. “Oh, and I had a little chat with Pansy. Since when do you know Rose?”

“What did she want?” Daphne retorted, her eyes narrowing.

“She’s getting nosy,” Ginny answered. “Says you’re going to lose your title if you’re not careful.”

Daphne scoffed, her eyes rolling. “Is she now? I need to punish her for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Ginny’s smirk sharpened, her icy eyes glinting with intent. “No need. I’ve got plans for Pansy. And the Carrows.”

Daphne’s brow arched, her smile approving. “Keep me in the loop, Ginny.” Her voice was warm, conspiratorial, her eyes sparkling as she stepped back, giving Ginny space.

“Of course,” Ginny promised, her smirk widening as she turned, her Slytherin robes swishing as she headed for the common room’s exit. She was almost to the stone passage when a sharp voice stopped her.

“Greengrass!” Draco stormed forward, his pale face flushed with anger, his platinum hair mussed as he jabbed a finger at her. “Two of you walking in here? Explain yourself!” His voice was a low growl, his grey eyes blazing as he loomed over her, his robes pristine but his posture tense.

Ginny’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, her icy eyes glinting as she raised her wand, her voice a soft, deliberate murmur. She already had this spell ready as she’d been practicing it since she first saw Harry perform it in the Pensieve. Without voicing a word, she twirled her wand above her head, then aimed it at her side. A perfect duplicate of Daphne appeared beside her, its icy eyes and platinum hair identical, its Slytherin robes flawless. The mirage tilted its head, mimicking Ginny’s smirk, and the common room gasped, students leaning forward, their whispers a soft buzz.

Ginny vanished the mirage with a flick of her wand, the illusion dissolving into sparks. She turned to Draco, her voice a cool, mocking drawl. “A Greengrass family secret, Malfoy. I bet you’ve got nothing this impressive to display. I mean just look at you.” Her eyes raked him up and down, her lip curling in disdain as she scoffed, her platinum hair swishing as she turned on her heel.

Draco’s jaw dropped, his face reddening as he sputtered, but Ginny was already striding through the passage, the stone rumbling shut behind her. Her boots echoed in the dungeon’s chill, her smirk sharp as she clutched Harry’s journal, her heart racing with triumph. The Room of Requirement awaited, and with it, the next move in her plan.

*****

The Room of Requirement’s savannah sprawled before Ginny as she slipped through the door. The air was thick with the scent of sun-warmed grass and salt from the distant sea, the savannah’s golden expanse alive with the hum of crickets and the rustle of wind. She clutched Harry’s journal, its leather warm against her palm, as her boots sank into the soft earth, her heart still racing from her Slytherin incursion.

Ursa sat cross-legged on a boulder, her silver-blonde curls glinting under the starlight, her emerald eyes soft as she lazily ran her hand through Pandora’s shimmering fur. The Nundu’s tails flicked lazily, her purrs a low rumble that vibrated through the air. Ursa’s head snapped up at the door’s soft click, her slitted pupils narrowing as she spotted Ginny. “Hi there,” Ursa said, her voice warm, a smile tugging her lips. “How did it go?”

Ginny tucked Harry’s journal under her arm, her blonde hair swaying as she approached. “How’d you know it was me and not Daphne?”

Ursa’s smile widened, her fingers pausing in Pandora’s fur. “Everyone’s magic is unique, like fingerprints. Yours feels like wildfire and cinnamon. Daphne’s is like a sundae with strawberries. I’d never mix you up.” Her voice was soft, almost reverent, her gaze steady as she resumed patting Pandora’s flank, the Nundu nuzzling her hand.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued as she climbed onto the boulder beside Ursa, her leathers brushing against the stone. “In that case, what’s the strangest magic you’ve ever sensed?”

Ursa’s fingers paused briefly in Pandora’s fur, her gaze distant as she absentmindedly resumed the slow, rhythmic strokes along the Nundu’s flank. “It used to be Lily’s,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful, emerald eyes fixed on the shimmering coat beneath her hand. “But after the day Harry went to his get-together with James and Sirius, it’s probably Astoria’s.”

“Astoria’s?” Ginny beckoned as she shifted slightly, her boots scraping the boulder’s rough surface. “How come?”

Ursa’s hand moved steadily, tracing lazy circles on Pandora’s side, the Nundu’s purr rumbling. “Lily’s magic feels like a blend between Harry’s and Luna’s,” she explained, her tone even, almost reflective. “Like the warmth of the sun with undertones of something… ethereal. It’s almost like Lily’s magic has parts of Luna’s magic inside it, which makes sense because Lily has half of Luna’s Transcendence.” Her fingers delved deeper into Pandora’s fur, eliciting a contented flick of Pandora’s tail. “But Astoria’s magic is… If someone’s magic is meant to feel like an addictive drug, then it’d probably be Astoria’s.”

Ginny tilted her head, her auburn braid slipping over her shoulder as she absently reached out to scratch Pandora’s ear, drawing a soft nudge from the beast. “I don’t follow.”

“I sensed someone’s magic when Harry was on his way to meet up with James and Sirius,” Ursa said, her voice steady. “The moment Harry went closer, I realized the magic came from Astoria. But I knew if Harry kept investigating, he would probably end up feeding on Astoria’s magic, and it’d be so good that he might even miss his get-together with Sirius and James. And we know Harry; he’d end up feeling guilty over it.” She nodded. “And so, I made it feel like Harry was sensing Gabrielle instead, which worked out well because Gabrielle was already staring at Harry, and Harry hadn’t seen her since he arrived in this world.”

Ginny’s fingers stilled on Pandora’s ear, her brown eyes narrowing as she processed the words, a faint crease forming between her brows. “But Harry could tell the difference between Astoria’s magic and Gabrielle’s.”

“Not back then,” Ursa shook her head slightly, her curls shifting but her gaze remaining on the Nundu’s contented form. “I’m the one that senses magic, not Harry. He only gained my ability after my nature merged with him during the Vinculum. And his get-together with Sirius and James happened hours before the Vinculum started, so… yeah.” Her fingers wove through the fur in a deliberate pattern, eliciting a deeper purr. “Not only that, but the stronger Harry’s attraction to someone is, the stronger I sense and want their magic. For example, I didn’t react to Alice Longbottom’s magic because Harry doesn’t want her. But I reacted to Amelia, Fleur, Hermione, Luna, you.”

Ginny leaned back slightly, her hand dropping to her lap as she absorbed the explanation, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, but Astoria is not one of us.”

Ursa nodded faintly. “I know,” she said. “And that’s why her magic is so strange. Why did I crave it so much if Harry doesn’t feel anything for her?”

“I don’t know,” Ginny retorted. “Although… Harry told me about what it feels like when he uses your powers to shapeshift. He said that when he shifted into Luna, it felt like he was Luna but with his own memories, and that his hormones were off. So, what did you feel when you shifted into Astoria last week? You know, to let it slip to the Carrows that you’d seen Harry going to Lily’s classroom.”

Ursa’s hand stilled in Pandora’s fur for a moment, her expression unchanging as she met Ginny’s eyes steadily. “I didn’t feel anything.”

Ginny cocked an eyebrow, confusion knitting her freckled brow. “Really? Nothing?”

Ursa nodded, her slitted pupils narrowing faintly as she resumed her gentle strokes along the Nundu’s flank. “I’ve never come into contact with Astoria. The reason Harry felt like Luna when he shifted was because I’ve come into contact with Luna. Both as myself and from Harry touching Luna. That’s how I was able to simulate her body composition. But Harry’s never touched Astoria. Not even Harry Black before our Harry arrived in this world.”

Ginny blinked. “How’s that even possible?”

Ursa’s fingers weaved deeper into Pandora’s shimmering coat as she answered, “It’s probably because Astoria loathes Harry, and so, she’s always avoided being around him. Even at galas and other pureblood events, Astoria has always avoided being around Harry.”

Ginny nodded slowly, her posture relaxing against the boulder. A sudden wave of fatigue washed over her, heavy and insistent, making her shoulders sag. Pandora stirred then, her golden eyes flicking up as she sensed Ginny’s growing fatigue, the Nundu leaning over to nuzzle Ginny’s knee with a gentle insistence. Ursa’s hand paused mid-stroke, her head turning at the movement, emerald eyes finally shifting to Ginny’s face. Her brow furrowed with concern as she studied her. “You’re pale, Ginny. Too pale.” She leaned closer, her curls brushing Ginny’s arm, her hand hovering as if to check her pulse. “What happened in the common room?”

Ginny chuckled, a tired but playful sound, her brown eyes dancing despite the faint tremor in her hands. “What, got a thing for Daphne’s complexion now?” Her tone was teasing, but her breath caught as she leaned back, the savannah’s warmth grounding her.

Ursa’s lips pursed, her emerald eyes narrowing. “Spit it out.”

Ginny sighed, her smirk fading as she ran a hand through her braid, her voice softening. “I used Harry’s charm, Gemino Corpus, to create a duplicate in the common room.” She shook her head, her lips twitching with frustration. “I can barely manage a mirage, let alone a full clone. Takes too much out of me.”

Ursa’s brow arched, her voice gentle but analytical as she leaned back. “You don’t have the reserves for it yet. Gemino Corpus demands a massive well of magic. I can do it because I’ve consume enough power to build my strength. Harry can do it because he’s amassed power over thousands of years. Harry Black can because Arcturus tortured him into growing more powerful.”

Ginny’s smirk returned, sharp and wicked, her brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Torture, huh? Wouldn’t mind a bit of that if it makes me stronger.” Her voice was a playful purr, her head tilting as she nudged Ursa’s shoulder, her leathers creaking.

Ursa’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. “That’s not funny.” Her tone was stern as Pandora nudged her hand, demanding more pets.

Ginny rolled her eyes, her laugh bright but tired as she leaned forward, her hands running through Pandora’s fur. “You worry too much, Ursa. Besides,” she paused, her smirk returning. “I found gold in the Slytherin dorms. Flora’s got a serious thing for dominance. There was an altercation with Rose, and apparently, Rose came out on top, and she made them kneel to her. And now, Flora wants more of it. And it fits perfectly with my plan from before Harry got involved.”

Ursa’s brow arched, her emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity as she shifted, her robes rustling against the boulder. “You keep mentioning your plan, but you’re holding out on me.”

Ginny’s smirk widened, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “You don’t need to worry about the details, Ursa.”

Ursa’s lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms, her curls swaying. “That’s not an answer. I could use some info to prepare, you know.” Her tone was dry, her posture stiffening as she tilted her head, her slitted pupils glinting with annoyance.

Ginny chuckled, her voice a low, playful drawl as she waved her free hand dismissively. “You don’t need to prepare. Just be you.” 

Ursa rolled her eyes, her voice a soft grumble as she tossed her curls. “Cryptic like Luna. Fine, keep your secrets.” Her lips twitched into a reluctant smile, her hand resuming its slow strokes through Pandora’s fur. “What’s my role in this mystery plan?”

Ginny’s grin widened, her voice a teasing whisper. “Spoiling the surprise would ruin it, Ursa. And trust me, the surprise is everything for your part.”

Ursa sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she shook her head. “I give up.”

Ginny laughed, bright and unrestrained, as she hopped off the boulder, her boots sinking into the grass. “What about you? How did it go with the twins?”

Ursa’s lips curved into a proud smirk, her voice soft but approving. “I did exactly what we planned. Fed on their magic and made it feel like it was Harry. They didn’t get to climax, and they promised me to buy you new school robes. But of course, I refused and stormed off.”

Ginny nodded as she planted her hands on her hips. “Good. From what I learned in the dormitory, their father is using their pocket money as leverage. Now that they think they ruined it with me, they’re going to be desperate to get back into my good graces. And everybody knows what desperate people are willing to do.”

“Merlin,” Ursa whispered. “You should’ve been in Slytherin, Ginny. That’s some real cunning right there.”

Ginny smirked. “Maybe I tricked the Hat into putting me in Gryffindor. Ever thought about that?” Her voice was playful, her brown eyes dancing as she winked, drawing a chuckle from Ursa, the sound blending with the savannah’s hum.

Ursa leaned back, her curls spilling over the boulder as she tilted her head, her voice curious. “So, what’s next?”

Ginny’s smirk softened, her eyes narrowing with focus as she tapped Harry’s journal. “I need to set up a way to communicate with Daphne. It has to be something subtle, so we can coordinate my Slytherin incursions without running into each other.” Her voice was thoughtful, her fingers brushing the journal’s leather. “Over the centuries, it’s usually Hermione that crafts it, but this time, it’s going to be me.”

She raised her wand and uttered, “Quaero Veritas.” The journal’s pages flipped, rustling softly before stopping at a spell: Linkara Vox, a charm to bind two objects for silent communication. Ginny’s eyes lit up, her smirk returning as she turned to Ursa. “We’ll practice on some conjured rocks first. Shouldn’t take long to get it right. Then, we’ll ask Harry to purchase rings or necklaces for us to use.”

Ursa nodded, her emerald eyes gleaming with enthusiasm as she slid off the boulder, her robes swishing. She clapped her hands, the sound sharp in the savannah’s quiet, startling Pandora, who flicked her tail in protest. “Let’s get to work.” Her voice was eager, her curls bouncing as she stood beside Ginny, her wand already in hand.

Ginny grinned, her brown eyes blazing with determination as she raised her wand, conjuring two smooth stones with a flick. They hovered before her, glinting in the starlight, ready for the spell. “We need distance,” she said. Then, she glanced at Pandora and added, “But we can’t disturb Pandora either.” She flicked her gaze back to Ursa. “You can speak Parseltongue, right?”

Ursa nodded, “Sure can.”

Ginny nodded in return, “Then, let’s go.”

*****

Hours ticked past in the Chamber of Secrets as Ginny and Ursa worked tirelessly on the Linkara Vox spell. The conjured rocks glowed faintly, hovering between them, but the charm remained elusive, its magic stuttering. Ginny’s brow glistened with sweat, her auburn braid fraying as she paced the main arena, her wand hand trembling from exertion. Ursa’s silver-blonde curls clung to her neck, her emerald eyes sharp with focus despite the late hour.

Ginny wiped her brow, her voice firm but tinged with frustration as she pointed to the Chamber’s entrance, a shadowed archway carved with serpents. “Head to the entrance with your rock. I’ll stay here. Let’s test if this damn spell works this time.” Her leathers creaked as she adjusted her stance, her brown eyes glinting with determination, Harry’s journal open on a table.

Ursa nodded, her robes swishing as she grabbed her conjured stone, its surface smooth and warm in her palm. “On it,” she said, her voice steady. She strode toward the entrance, her boots echoing on the stone. At the entrance, she stopped, the serpents’ carved eyes seeming to watch her as she raised the rock to her lips. “Ginny, can you hear me?”

The rock remained inert, its glow unchanged. Ursa’s brow furrowed, her fingers tightening around it as she tried again, her voice sharper. “Ginny, you there?” Nothing. She huffed, her curls bouncing as she shook her head, her voice rising with impatience. “Come on, Ginny, answer me.” The rock stayed silent, its magic dormant. Ursa’s shoulders sagged, her lips pursing as she muttered, “What are we missing?”

She turned, striding back to the main arena. The arena was empty, Ginny’s absence stark. Ursa’s heart skipped, her emerald eyes narrowing as she approached Slytherin’s portrait. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice sharp,.

Slytherin’s painted figure shrugged, his voice a bored drawl. “I’m busy, girl.” His eyes flicked away, dismissive, as he resumed his runic calculations.

“Rude,” retorted Ursa with a scoff. “Ginny!” No answer, but a faint echo of her own voice drifted back. Ursa froze, her slitted pupils dilating. “Echo? The Chamber doesn’t echo,” she muttered, her gaze sweeping the arena, her heart racing. Her eyes landed on Ginny’s conjured rock, resting on the table beside Harry’s journal. She snatched it up and glanced around the Chamber again. “Ginny, you there?”

Ursa’s voice echoed from Ginny’s conjured rock, “Ginny, you there?”

Ursa’s lips parted, a relieved laugh escaping as she clutched the rock, its warmth spreading through her palm. “It worked! It fucking worked!” But then, she paused. “But where’s she?”

A soft tap on her shoulder made her heart stop for a second before she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You do realize I was pretending, right?” She retorted. “I can sense your magic, remember? I knew you were under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak.” She turned around, and added, “You really need to try a whole lot har—”

Her words caught in her throat as she faced Ginny, who stood there, polyjuiced as Harry, her black hair messy, green eyes blazing with mischief, and naked. Her body was Harry’s, lean and muscled. Ursa’s jaw dropped, her emerald eyes locked on it, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as her breath hitched, her heart pounding with shock.

Ginny laughed, a bright, wicked sound, her green eyes dancing as she tossed her head, Harry’s messy hair falling into her face. “I warned you I was done being subtle, Ursa,” she purred, her voice Harry’s low, velvety drawl, her hands on her hips, unashamed of her nakedness. “Like what you see?”

Ursa’s flush deepened, her voice stammering as she tore her gaze away, her curls clinging to her sweat-damp neck. “Ginny, you—” Her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes. “Merlin, put some clothes on!”

A scoff echoed through the Chamber, followed by a heavy sigh. Harry strode from the shadows, his real form unmistakable—black hair tousled, green eyes warm with amusement, his Acromantula-silk suit pristine. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you, Gin?” he said, his voice a playful rumble as he crossed his arms, his lips twitching into a grin.

Ginny shook her head, her grin wide and unrepentant. “Her reaction was absolutely worth it,” she said, her voice Harry’s but laced with her own fiery mischief. She turned to him, her green eyes sparkling as she tilted her head. “Quick question. I remember Bellatrix’s spell altered you, but…” She pointed down at herself, her brow furrowing in confusion. “You’re back to your size from before. What happened?”

Harry chuckled. “There are ways to block certain traits to carry into Polyjuice.”

“What the—”Ginny gasped, her green eyes widening in shock as she stepped closer, her naked form unselfconscious. “How is that even possible?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been around for millennia, Gin. I’ve learned a thing or two.”

Ursa rolled her eyes, her silver-blonde curls bouncing as she crossed her arms, her tone laced with exasperation. “What is it with everyone being cryptic today?”

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a rueful smile. “It’s a very long explanation. But the short version is that every time I needed to use something, I studied it extensively, learning everything about it. I’ve studied Polyjuice, and I learned how to counter it. And even how to stop certain aspects from being transferred into the potion.”

Ginny nodded slowly, her expression shifting to understanding as she absorbed his words. “We’re going to talk about it one day. But for now,” she extended her hand toward him, waiting expectantly.

Harry chuckled as he snapped his fingers, conjuring a crystal vial that glinted in the torchlight. He pressed a finger to his forehead, his eyes closing briefly as he pulled a silvery strand of memory, its light shimmering as he dropped it into the vial. He handed it to Ginny, his voice warm. “Enjoy.”

Ginny clutched the vial, her grin triumphant, but Harry snapped his fingers again, and a set of Gryffindor robes materialized around her, cloaking her borrowed body. She pouted, her voice a mock whine. “Why?”

Harry’s eyes glinted as he stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I’d rather see your freckles, Gin. Besides, we’ve got something important to discuss.” His tone shifted, serious now. His hand went into his suit’s pocket where he retrieved the parchment. “I cracked the letter,” he said, his voice low, deliberate. He held it up, the words clear in the torchlight:

“To the one who walks the stars,

The heavens turn, as do the fates, three steps beyond the common gaze. An ancient serpent’s tongue hides truth in plain sight, its words coiled in shadow. Seek the shift that unveils the unseen, for a foe wears a mask not of flesh but of worlds. The path you tread trembles under a veiled storm. Heed this, or all may unravel.

A silent ally

PS: The Chamber’s secret is safe.”

“The solution came to me when I was talking to Line at the end of the date,” he said. He pulled Apolline’s silk handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over to Ginny, the fabric soft and shimmering faintly in the torchlight. Apolline’s neat script gleamed:

8 Rue Jules César, Paris

Three nights from now. Don’t be late.

Ursa’s emerald eyes widened, her slitted pupils dilating as she leaned closer, her curls brushing Ginny’s shoulder. “Caesar cipher,” she gasped, her voice a sharp whisper. Then, her brow furrowed, her head tilting. “How didn’t you think of it sooner?”

“I did,” Harry answered as he tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket, his green eyes flicking to the parchment. “But no matter what format you use, you’ll get gibberish. Every letter, the first letters of every word, or even something as ludicrous as the last letters of every word. Nada.”

“Right,” Ursa nodded slowly. “The fluff you talked about when we found the letter. Fluff for misdirecting some while also containing clear instructions for you.”

“Exactly,” he retorted. “Even though Caesar cipher is how you decode the real message, it’s also meant to be used as a trap for anyone else. And that’s on purpose because it’s another layer on top of the original warning. A… double entendre to double down on the fact that whoever this silent ally is warning me about cannot be taken lightly.”

“Okay,” Ginny said, the Slytherin robes swishing around her as she shifted forward slightly. “So what’s the actual message?”

“Good question,” Harry said with a small smile, “and we’re going to use it as another lesson for you.” Ginny cocked an eyebrow, and Harry nodded. “The clue to uncover the real message is in the initial and superficial warning. The silent ally is warning us about someone that’s not who they seem to be. Even though they’re hiding in plain sight, they’re also cloaked in shadows and masks.” He stopped, turning to face Ginny fully. “Remember everything I’ve taught you so far, Gin, and answer this: how do you deal with someone that’s hiding in plain sight, but that’s also cloaked in shadows and masks?”

Ginny’s brow furrowed deeper, her borrowed messy hair falling into her eyes as she pushed it back, her mind visibly racing. She paced a small circle, her hands clasping behind her back, before stopping abruptly, her gaze lifting to meet his. “Through perception, most specifically how they perceive you. When you manipulate what your opponent perceives, you dictate the battle’s flow. Not only that, but if you give them a sense of predictability from you, they will grow overconfident, which could lead to egos and mistakes that you can exploit.”

“Keep going,” Harry nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he crossed his arms, his suit creasing slightly. “Dig deeper.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed further, her fingers drumming against her arm as she thought, her weight shifting from one foot to the other. Then, realization dawned, her posture straightening with a spark of epiphany. “After watching you and reading your journal, I realized the best way to manipulate perception is by showing the truth. Or at least, by showing what your opponent believes to be the truth. Like how you used your illusion to trick me, or even when you used your schoolyard spells against Bella.” She paused, her voice gaining confidence. “The best lies contain some element of truth, and that’s how you deal with someone hiding in plain sight, but cloaked in shadows and masks.”

“That’s my girl,” Harry’s smile widened, genuine pride lighting his features as he uncrossed his arms. “Our silent ally did the exact same thing. They gave me some truths, like the warning and the shift for the Caesar cipher, but they also gave me lies in the form of poetic fluff.”

“We already know that,” Ursa hissed, a hint of impatience in her stance. “If the poetic fluff and whatnot is misdirection, then what is the actual direction?”

“There are two directions, actually” Harry answered. “The first is the place with the hidden message that needs to be decoded with Caesar cipher. It’s the one thing everyone would end up ignoring, which just so happens to be the first thing you see when you get the parchment.” He flipped the parchment over to show his name. “The first thing I saw, and the first thing I completely ignored when I started working on this.”

He paused, his green eyes sharpening. “The second direction is how to reveal the message hidden behind my name. The idea came to me when I was talking to Line. ‘Everyone’s a puzzle. All you need is the right cipher.’ Without even realizing it, I had already cracked the code.” He smiled softly. “The right cipher to reveal the coded text behind my name is actually in Parseltongue. If you remember,” he glanced at Ursa, “I spoke Parseltongue right before the letter appeared.”

Ursa nodded in agreement while Ginny added, “And it’s also a clue in the letter. ‘An ancient serpent’s tongue hides truth in plain sight, its words coiled in shadow.’ Enough truth to guide us with enough lies to deceive everyone else.”

“Pretty much,” Harry commented with a nod. “And as for the words to speak in Parseltongue… Just think about it. A letter filled with poetry. And yet, there are two things that are not poetic. My name and—”

“— the postscript,” Ginny and Ursa said at once.

They exchanged a quick glance, their eyes widening in unison. They turned back to Harry and found him smiling. “Bingo,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat and hissed in Parseltongue, “The Chamber’s secret is safe.”

The ink of his name on the parchment shimmered, then vanished as if absorbed into the paper, revealing a new string of letters in its place:

BRXDUHQRWDORQH

Harry snapped his fingers, and the letters rose from the parchment, hovering in the air like glowing embers. “Remember, the letter talks about three steps beyond the common gaze,” he uttered as he waved his hand over the glowing letter and applied the Caesar cipher with three shifts, the letters twisting and realigning into:

YOUARENOTALONE

One final snap of fingers, and the message clarified:

YOU ARE NOT ALONE

A chill ran down Ursa’s spine, her shoulders shuddering as she wrapped her arms around herself, her emerald eyes wide. “Nom de Dieu de putain de bordel de merde de saloperie de connard d'enculé de ta mère!” she exclaimed, the French profanities tumbling out in a heated rush. “Harry… I hate how this silent ally knows so much about you. You not being from this world, you and Apolline, and now, they’re so clever as to hide something into the paper just like how you hid the cipher for Bellatrix inside Rodolphus’s wand. They’re literally doing something you would do.”

“I agree with Ursa,” Ginny uttered, borrowed green eyes sharpened with alarm. “Maybe we need to be worried about this silent ally too.”

Harry shook his head, his expression steady. “I don’t think so. If they wanted to hurt me, there are faster and easier ways to do it. Ursa just said it; they know about me and Line, which definitely means they know about me and Bella.” He ran a hand through his hair and added, “Now, think about the implications here. If they leaked what they know about me and Bella, Amy would execute Bella without skipping a beat. She promised she would. And if Bella dies because of me, it’d push Andy and Cissy away from me. With Andy gone, so is Dora. And with everyone knowing about me and Bella, that’s it for Mione, Sue, and Cho.” He sighed. “One word from this silent ally, and that’s it. You see it now, don’t you? The person to worry about is not the silent ally; it’s that one,” he pointed at the floating words.

Everyone’s gaze drifted back to the spot where the ominous message hovered, the air thick with unspoken tension. Ursa broke the silence, her voice soft but edged with concern as she uncrossed her arms. “What does it even mean? In what sense are you not alone? It’s clearly not about romance, friendship, allies, or even enemies, so what’s left?”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “My guess is that I’m not the only quasi-cosmic being around. In the letter, the ally talks about me walking the stars, about how my mission is being threatened. If they know all of this, then they must know I’ve been around for thousands of years. If I’m not alone, then there’s another like me.” He sighed. “But that also doesn’t make any sense because Death only made me a quasi-cosmic being once I became the True Master. There’s not another True Master running around out there. And even if it was somehow about the mantle of the True Master, that still doesn’t explain why they’d come after me. I have a null field to hide myself from the world. So… what gives?”

From the back of the room, Slytherin’s portrait piped up, his painted figure leaning forward with a sly grin, his emerald robes shifting. “Perhaps, it’s one of your children from across the multiverse that’s coming to make you suffer for being an absentee father.”

“You’re not funny,” Harry spat as he shot the portrait a glare. Slytherin simply chuckled, shrugging his painted shoulders before returning to his runic calculations. Harry sighed and waved a hand, the hovering letters dissolving into sparks that faded away. “We need to wait until the silent ally makes their next move. People like this never stop at just one letter; there will be more. Hopefully, we’ll have more clues. If not for the person they’re warning about, then about this silent ally themself. One of them is bound to happen.”

Ginny nodded and asked, “And what do we do until then?”

“We stick to the plan,” Harry answered. “Me with becoming Lord Black and dealing with Tom’s delegation at the Yule Ball, and you dealing with the Carrows.” He paused, glancing between Ginny and Ursa. “Speaking of which, how’s it going with those two?”

Ginny’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, her borrowed face lighting up. “We had a breakthrough. But let’s head to the Room of Requirement while we talk.”

“Why?” Harry beckoned, eyebrow raised.

“I need to get the room ready for my plans with Cho,” Ginny answered as she approached the table to pick up her wand and Harry’s journal.

“Ooh, look at you go!” Harry commented with a sly grin. He reached into his mokeskin pouch, pulling out a small vial of anti-potion. “It’s something to do with Quidditch, isn’t it?”

“Argh, don’t ruin the surprise,” Ginny retorted as she rolled her eyes. She took the vial, her fingers brushing his as she uncorked it.

Harry chuckled, watching as she drank the potion in one swift gulp, her form shimmering and shifting back to her own—auburn braid, freckled skin, and warm brown eyes emerging as the Polyjuice wore off. She handed the empty vial back, and Harry waved his hand over her, transfiguring the Gryffindor robes to be uniforms. Together, Harry, Ginny, and Ursa headed out of the Chamber of Secrets.

*****

As Ginny and Ursa regaled Harry with tales of their adventures in the Room of Requirement, Slytherin’s portrait flickered under the torchlight of the Chamber of Secrets, his painted form hunched over a spectral ledger, quill scratching intricate Arithmantic equations that shimmered like liquid silver. He was deep in calculations for Ursa’s corporeal form, the runes twisting and reforming as he adjusted variables, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Hours slipped by, the chamber’s chill deepening as the night wore on. Slytherin paused, his quill hovering, and glanced toward the shadowed entrance. Harry had yet to return from his escapade with the girls. A wry smile tugged at his painted lips; perhaps, the old friend was aiding Ginny in her plan for Cho, or perhaps, he was off on some other inscrutable errand. With Harry, one never knew.

The quill resumed its dance, etching intricate Arithmantic equations across the spectral ledger, the silver ink shimmering like captured moonlight. Slytherin paused mid-stroke, his painted brow furrowing as a soft scuff of footsteps echoed through the chamber. They were deliberate and muffled, like whispers over stone. His eyes lifted, narrowing at the shadowy figure emerging from the gloom, cloaked in darkness until torchlight caught the green-trimmed robes of a Slytherin uniform. Astoria stepped forward, her straight blonde hair framing her pale face, icy blue eyes glinting.

Slytherin set his quill aside with a gentle clink against the painted inkwell, a soft smile creasing his features as he straightened in his frame. “A part of me was hoping you wouldn’t come,” he murmured. Astoria cocked an eyebrow, and Slytherin nodded, regret flickering in his painted eyes. “I was secretly hoping you wouldn’t have received my message, that you’d be relaxing in the common room with your sister and Tracey, free from all this.”

Astoria shook her head, her lips pressing into a firm line as she met his gaze. “I won’t be free until Tom is dead,” she replied, her tone resolute.

Slytherin nodded slowly, his expression turning appraising, a faint sigh escaping his painted lips. “Very well. Get ready before I give you the rundown.”

Astoria’s form shimmered then, a ripple of magic cascading over her like water over stone. She grew taller, reaching about Harry’s height, her straight blonde hair darkening and tousling into a messy black cascade, her icy blue eyes shifting to a piercing green that gleamed with sharp intensity. Holly Dorea Potter stood there now, her posture straightening as she shed the Slytherin uniform with a swift wave of her wand, the fabric vanishing into wisps of smoke. Beneath, she wore a sleek bodysuit of spandex that hugged her frame like a second skin, flexible and unyielding. She reached into her mokeskin pouch and found the cloak, boots, and gloves. She donned the heavy cloak first, its woolen folds settling over her shoulders with a soft rustle, followed by sturdy boots that laced up her calves with a firm tug, and finally, the gloves, their leather whispering as she pulled them on, flexing her fingers to test the fit.

Once dressed, Holly adjusted her hood slightly, her green eyes locking onto the portrait with expectant focus. Slytherin leaned back, his smile returning, approving. “We have everything we need to infiltrate Gringotts and retrieve Helga’s Cup,” he began, his voice steady and measured. “Your scouting over the past few months has confirmed it; security is slightly loose during the weekend, with fewer goblins on patrol and the vaults less monitored. All we need is a way to access Bellatrix’s vault.”

Holly nodded, her messy black hair shifting with the motion, her gloved hands clasping behind her back as she absorbed the plan. “What did you find out about getting into the vault?”

Slytherin’s painted eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I inquired with a few portraits I know, old allies from centuries past, until I located where Druella has been living since her banishment from House Black. She may have been cast out, but she’s still Bellatrix’s mother, a bond Gringotts recognizes. She can play the role of the sad, depressed mother who misses her daughter and wants to reminisce in the vault. Not too far from the truth, given what I’ve learned of her isolation.”

Holly nodded, a spark of understanding in her piercing green eyes as she shifted her weight, the heavy boots scuffing softly against the stone. “I see. But how do I get her to agree to this?”

Slytherin gestured toward the base of his frame, his voice turning instructive. “Open the secret compartment under my portrait.”

Holly stepped closer, her cloak whispering with the movement, and hissed in Parseltongue, her voice a serpentine murmur that stirred the chamber’s ancient carvings: “Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”

A low grind echoed as the hidden compartment slid open, revealing a small alcove shadowed in dust. Holly reached in, her gloved fingers closing around a vial of crimson blood and a jade ring, its surface carved in the likeness of a basilisk biting its own tail, faint runes pulsing along its scales in the dim light.

She held up the vial first, turning it so the blood caught the torchlight, swirling thickly within. “What’s this for?”

Slytherin watched her intently, his expression unchanging as he leaned forward. “Druella will request proof that you’re telling the truth about Harry being in danger. You’ll need to demonstrate that you’re working on his behalf, so hand over the vial of blood. She’ll test it against a Lotus parchment to confirm it’s authentic. Once she realizes you know Harry, she’ll help you get into Bellatrix’s vault.”

Holly nodded in agreement. Then, she examined the ring, turning it in her palm, the jade cool against her skin. “And the ring? I thought you wanted to give it to Harry, make him Lord Slytherin to quiet all the noises about him being less pure.”

“I will,” Slytherin replied, “in due time.” Then, he leaned forward in his frame as if to emphasize the point. “For now, the ring will grant you protection against the Thief’s Downfall.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Holly said, slipping the vial into her mokeskin pouch with a soft clink. “Before Death sent me to this world, she gave me parts of her shapeshifting, like how Dream has always given his Transcendence to every Luna.”

Slytherin cocked an eyebrow and said, “Harry has always had his suspicions that Luna's Transcendence came from Dream of the Endless.”

Holly nodded and added, “Death said Harry should have gained Shapeshifting when he became the True Master. If you think about it, it makes sense. Death must have the ability to be no one, which is the Invisibility Cloak, and the ability to be anyone, which is the shapeshifting. But the problem is that Harry has never embraced the mantle, which is why he can’t wield shapeshifting. But since we’re versions of the same person, and I was going to the world where Harry was supposed to go to, then she gave the shapeshifting to me.”

“That doesn’t explain why you can only shift between two people,” Slytherin commented. “For an ability to be ‘anyone’, it’s rather limited.”

“That’s because it was never meant for me,” Holly retorted. “I can only change between my own appearance and the appearance that Death chose.” She pointed the ring to Slytherin and added, “Do you see why this isn’t necessary? Something made by Death cannot be affected by something made by mortals, like how the Killing Curse cannot be shielded against.”

Slytherin’s brow narrowed, his painted features hardening with insistence. “It’s always best to be prudent. You of all people ought to know that. Especially since you’ve always mentioned Death and her sadistic sense of humor. What’s the guarantee she won’t take away your ability at a very inopportune time?”

Holly rolled her eyes, a touch of exasperation coloring her voice. “Isn’t that a little too pessimistic?”

But Slytherin held her gaze, unyielding, his voice firm. “Better be pessimistic and alive than optimistic and a pile of bones.”

“Yes, dad,” Holly answered with a huff. She sigh softly, her fingers sliding the ring onto her finger, the jade warming against her skin as if awakening. “Happy?”

The portrait nodded in approval, and Holly shook her head fondly. As she secured the vial into her mokeskin pouch, she paused, methodically checked her inventory: the vial of blood once more, a bundle of herbs and roots, her DA coin enchanted into a Portkey by Hermione from her world, and even Slughorn’s untouched vial of Felix Felicis, its golden liquid swirling lazily. “I’m missing something,” she muttered. “I can’t remember what—”

As if on cue, a parchment materialized in the air before her, drifting down like a falling leaf. Slytherin’s smile returned, sly and knowing. “It was also in the alcove,” he said. “Remember to be methodical, just like the previous one. Alternate each hand as you write each word to ensure Harry doesn’t recognize your writing.”

Holly caught the parchment, her eyes scanning its contents briefly. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “First, it was ‘To the one who walks the stars.’ And now, it’s ‘To the celestial stag.’ Seriously?”

Slytherin shrugged, his painted eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned back in his frame. “What can I say? It’s not everyday I get to employ my intellect to engage in some light-hearted badinage with my old friend,” he replied, a low chuckle rumbling from the canvas. “It was a delight watching him rack his brain to solve the previous one. And this one… I look forward to it.”

“Merlin preserve me,” Holly scoffed. “You’re making a game out of it? You do realize Harry’s life is in danger, right?”

Slytherin shrugged again, and Holly rolled her eyes, tucking the parchment into her pouch with another shake of her head. “Boys,” she muttered as she straightened her coat, adjusting the hood as she prepared to leave. “I’ll stay out of the castle for a few days, and I’ll give Harry the letter when he goes to the Wizengamot to become Lord Black.”

Slytherin regarded her with a measured gaze. “Make sure this excursion doesn’t cause you to skip the Yule Ball,” he said, his voice carrying a note of firm caution, leaning forward in his frame as if to press the point. “Retrieving Helga’s Cup is crucial, but so is protecting the girls. The Ministry escorts assigned to the event are Death Eaters, save for Narcissa Malfoy and Aisha Zabini. With Harry drawing every eye as the evening’s public spectacle, you’ll need to be there to watch the girls’ backs. He has his contingency plan in place, of course, but extra vigilance never hurts.”

Holly drew in a slow breath, the chamber’s damp chill seeping through her coat, and nodded once. “I know,” she replied, her voice steady but edged with quiet resolve. “I lost my girls once; I won’t do it again.” She adjusted the ring with a deliberate tug, her posture straightening as she continued. “Druella will help me secure the Cup. After that, I’ll head home to fetch my dress, then return here.”

Slytherin tilted his head, a faint curiosity creasing his painted brow as he set the quill down entirely. “Why not use Madam Malkin’s express delivery services?”

“I must see my parents,” Holly answered. “Dumbledore will notify them that I’m leaving the castle. I need to see them in person, assure them I’m fine. I promised I’d always tell them.”

“Constant worry. The joys of being a parent,” Slytherin commented with a nod. Then, his expression eased into a small, understanding smile, the spectral ledger fading slightly in his lap. “Do be careful out there, dear.”

Holly nodded, her smile returning. “Always am.”

With a subtle gesture from Slytherin, his portrait tipped to the side, the frame grinding against stone to reveal a hidden passageway, its mouth yawning into darkness. Holly stepped through without hesitation, her boots echoing faintly as the portrait swung back into place behind her. She navigated the narrow tunnel, the air growing cooler, until it converged with the concealed path behind the One-Eyed Witch Statue. She pressed on until she eventually felt Hogwarts’ anti-apparition wards lift from her, like a firm grip releasing its squeeze. With a twist of her form, she apparated away.