Snow had fallen steadily for days, softening the grounds in thick white drifts that reached the knees of passing house-elves. The air smelled of pine and cinnamon, and the usual hum of spell work in the halls had given way to the quieter magic of warmth, charmed scarves, pockets full of sugared nuts, and candles that never flickered out.
Hogwarts celebrated Christmas in its own strange, ancient way. The suits of armor sang carols, badly but they tried their best, echoing off the high arches of the staircases. The portraits wore sprigs of holly and mulled over their favorite holiday memories aloud to anyone who passed. And everywhere, there was light: soft, enchanted, never too bright, glowing like it had been there waiting all year for this season.
The Great Hall had been dressed in its finest silks. Twelve towering Christmas trees lined the walls, each decorated in its own theme, one with fluttering faerie lights, one with enchanted snowflakes that never melted, another with golden candles and miniature broomsticks that circled the topmost branches. The ceiling had been bewitched to show soft snowfall, drifting gently downward but never reaching the floor.
Harry had never seen anything like it. He stood for a long time just staring at the great tree in the middle of the great hall, green and gold filled with shimmering glass ornaments that floated an inch above the branches.
There had been Christmases at the Dursleys, technically. Plastic trees dragged from the attic. Cold ham and fake cheer. An extra pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks wrapped in newspaper. He had been trapped in the small closet under the stairs most of the time.
But he had never even heard of something like this. Nothing that made the air feel warm even when the stone floors were freezing. This Christmas was the first that felt like his, and he was even spending it with Lynne who had decided to stay with him for the holidays. He tried asking if her guardian would miss her but she had dismissed him about it.
The day before the holiday, Hermione had said goodbye at the gates, bundled in layers and already holding a stack of books for the train ride.
"You'll be fine without me." she told Harry, adjusting his scarf like a mother hen. "Don't forget to revise Transfiguration. And please, for the love of god, don't let Lynne talk you into being a punch bag for spells again."
"Which god?" asked Lynne confused.
Harry had laughed. She had watched the exchange from a few paces behind, silent as usual, but when Hermione pulled her into a quick hug, she didn't pull away.
"Try not to hex anyone." Hermione added with a small smile.
"I will consider it." Lynne replied, deadpan.
On Christmas morning, the Ravenclaw common room was still and the blue-sky decorations were shining more than usual. The windows were glazed with frost, and the enchanted fire cast slow-moving shadows across the floor. Most students had gone home, leaving the space emptier than usual. It was peaceful, in a way Harry found comforting.
A few gifts had appeared overnight at the foot of one of the armchairs by the fire. Hagrid had given him a box of treats for Hedwig. Hermione had given him a book about transfiguration theory. And a few things from his other housemates he barely knew, candy mostly, he felt bad that he didn't send them similar gifts.
He had opened almost everything, saving one small and one big package that he knew at first glance would be interesting for last.
The smaller one was wrapped neatly in dark grey paper, tied with a single blue string. A stag crest pin hooked into the wrapping. A small tag dangled from the gift and he recognized Lynne's handwriting instantly.
Lynne sat by the window, as always. Dressed and reading, one knee tucked up against her chest. Her metal fingers turned the page with delicate precision. She hadn't said a word.
Harry picked up the package and opened it carefully. Inside was a leather holster, slim, black, clearly handmade. It was stitched along the sides with rune-embossed thread, he blinked, mouth half-open.
"This is…"
"Fitted to your wand." Lynne said without looking up. "Won't drop it, even if you fall. Enchanted for quick draw. It's designed to be worn against the forearm, under your sleeve."
He turned it over in his hands, then slowly slid it up his arm, it was the perfect fit.
"I... didn't get you anything." he admitted guiltily.
"You don't need to get me anything." she said. "Being your friend is enough."
Harry smiled, quiet and honest. "It's perfect. Thank you."
Lynne nodded once. Then turned a page in her book. He slid the wand up the holster and practiced pulling it out a few times. It truly did fit perfectly. He asked her to approach him by the fire and he gave her a hug. For a little while, they sat in silence as the fire crackled beside them. It was the warmest Christmas he had ever had. It felt like something real at last.
Finally he remembered the big package that was left and opened it. He leaned over and picked it up. It was silvery, smooth to the touch, and lighter than air. When he held it up, it fluttered in his hands like mist, then slipped through his fingers almost invisibly.
Folded within it was a small piece of parchment.
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
Harry read it trying to find a name or a clue as to who sent it but there was nothing more. His heart thudded quietly in his chest. Something about the handwriting felt... old. The parchment felt personal, like it had waited years just to reach him. He draped the cloak over his shoulders and with a thrill that almost made him laugh, saw his body vanish beneath it.
A real invisibility cloak, his first real link to his father. Something from him that now was entirely his.
"That is amazing." said Lynne.
"It was my father's, apparently." He smiled fondly.
"This is quite helpful, keep it safe and with you Harry." she sighed then looked at him with frustration.
"Should have bought you a pouch with an extension charm, that way you could easily carry it around without anyone noticing."
"Cannot I get them myself?"
"You could, yes… you would have to place an order for one... you may have to use your owl probably, but it should be possible. I will help you with that later then." she said, nodding to herself.
After testing it a bit in the common room, Harry and Lynne left it in his trunk and went down to the Great Hall for meals.
----0000----
The halls were quiet that evening, lit only by the occasional enchanted torch and the twinkling fairy lights strung along the walls for the holidays. The few students who had stayed behind were likely asleep or maybe enjoying the fireplaces and pudding in the common rooms.
He pulled the cloak from his trunk, slipped it over his shoulders and grinned at the way it shimmered and disappeared. Moving carefully and quietly, he slipped out into the corridor.
He didn't really have a destination, just curiosity. The castle felt different at night, it gave a strange feeling of old and mysterious. More secretive, he felt like he was in an adventure wondering about.
He was rounding the corner toward the long second-floor corridor when he stopped short, his foot catching slightly on the stone. Someone was already there.
Lynne stood motionless near an old suit of armor, one hand braced on the wall, metal fingers reflecting the torchling. Her other arm was holding her wand close to her chest, she didn't cast anything but she was opening and closing her mouth, almost like she was chanting.
Harry froze when she stopped all of a sudden. He briefly wondered if she had heard him somehow but before he could move, she turned to her side, looking directly at the spot where he stood.
"I know you are there, Harry." Her voice was quiet.
Harry flinched, heart racing as if discovered by a professor or prefect. Slowly he pulled off the cloak from his head.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." he whispered.
"You didn't, but if you want to sneak on someone, you should muffle your steps and your breathing was too loud as well."
Her eyes flicked to the cloak. "It is a quite powerful item, the one you have. I couldn't detect your magic at all."
Harry approached her slowly. "How do you detect someone's magic?"
"It's not something I can explain, I wish my mentor could teach you."
"What are you doing here by the way?"
"There is something behind this wall, I just don't know what or which room leads there."
Harry gave a soft look at the wall, there was no door there.
"So you are here out of curiosity? No prefect caught you yet?"
"Well most prefects have gone home, some professors do patrol but I usually can sense them before they are near."
They stood together in silence for a moment before she finally motioned him to walk with her. They explore the castle a bit before heading back to the common room, his cloak on his shoulders just in case.
Later that night Harry couldn't sleep, he felt weird, that this amount of good was not something he deserved and that somehow it would come back to bite him, or that he would wake up from a dream.
He came around the same corridor, his curiosity got the better of him. He now saw that there was indeed a door where the wall was and it was already slightly ajar. He approached carefully.
The room was cold and covered in dust. A tall mirror stood in the corner of the room, but nothing else. Its frame was golden and gilded with inscriptions. He saw no one inside so he didn't know why the door was unlocked. Approaching cautiously to the mirror, Harry saw that it was not only reflecting, something was moving inside of it.
Curiosity getting the better of him and feeling a tug towards it, he stepped in front of it only to be welcomed by the sight of two adults, maybe a couple holding hands appearing behind his reflection. He turned but found no one behind him. He could see them now, neatly, and he could recognize himself in some of their features. They smiled at him warmly and his heart ached.
"Mum?" he asked looking at the woman that in turn replied with a bigger smile and a nod.
Harry felt calm and warm, he couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his parents for the first time.
"Dad?" and the man nodded as well, both smiling at him proudly.
He didn't know what to say, but he also didn't want to leave them, he placed a hand in the mirror wanting to go through it, to wherever they were and felt the cold of the glass. His mum looked concerned for a moment but slowly placed a hand on his shoulder in the mirror and smiled again.
Harry stood there, he didn't know for how long, his parents communicating to him by waving. He left later on, it was quite late but he wanted to find Lynne and show it to her. He wanted his friend to see his parents, but finding her proved to be more difficult. He had to move with the cloak so as not to be seen and he heard the caretaker Filch shouting at someone when he was approaching the library, so he steered clear from there in the end.
Giving up and quite sleepy from walking around, he returned to the room only to find the door now closed. He pushed it slowly, peeking inside with his cloak still on. There, in front of the mirror was Lynne now, absorbed by whatever she was seeing, a frowning and confused look on his face.
"You found it as well!" he blurted out and all of a sudden he was pushed to the ground by an invisible force.
"Ugh!"
"Harry! I'm so sorry. You startled me." she said almost in his ears and that's when he realized that she hadn't used a spell, she had somehow in a flash tackled him.
Removing the cloak, he felt pain in his butt from the fall and somewhere in his chest where she had pushed. She extended her arm to him with a worried look.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Sorry." he said, taking her cold hand to help him up.
He was going to say something else when he remembered where they were.
"Oh you saw the mirror, did you see my parents?"
"Your parents, Harry?"
"Yes, yes!" Skipping the small distance and not letting go of her hand, Harry moved in front of the mirror.
"There they are." He smiled at her but she was not really smiling.
"Harry, I see more than two people, how many do you see?"
"What… I only see my parents. I asked them…" He looked at the mirror confused.
"I think it's not showing the same thing for both of us, in the inscription it says it's the mirror of desire, although for some reason the last word is backwards. I'm guessing it is cursed to enter our minds and show us what we want the most."
"Then… it's not real…?"
"Well, your parents cannot come back to life, Harry. I'm sorry."
"I know that… I just thought it was something they left behind." he replied saddened.
After a few moments in silence he spoke again.
"So you see your family as well?"
"I have no clue as to who they are. But I have no family, Harry. My mentor recently gave me permission to tell you more so I ca say that I was not born… I thought you would have figured it out already, I was created." She paused, thinking aloud. "And I have met my maker, he is not among them."
"To be honest… I didn't want to pry for what you are, I just think you are my best friend regardless of what you are and that's all I need to know."
She smiled brightly at him.
"You are very noble, Harry."
He felt his cheek warm and he thought of a way to lead the conversation elsewhere.
"You really have no idea who you see? Do they look like you?"
She stared at the mirror once more.
"I don't have even a hint at who they are, they dress weirdly, they look nothing like me and they have all sad looks in their eyes."
"There is a little kid like me, who must be around 9 to 10 years old that was hugged by all of them but now she is staring at me, the only one smiling out of all of them."
She kept staring at the mirror without moving.
"It unsettles me a bit. I never needed a family nor did I ever want one, but this one is staring at me as if I am the only thing missing."
She sighed heavily and Harry didn't have a response exactly to that.
"The longer I stare, the less I know if this desire is mine or not."
"We should just leave this mirror behind, Harry. Enchanted objects are unhealthy more times than not."
Harry didn't want to leave though, it was the first time he saw his parents, and they seemed happy to see them, but seeing Lynne's distraught face was enough to consider letting the mirror be for now.
"Can we share your cloak Harry? I encountered Filch and had to make a run for it, the invisibility would come really handy."
Harry wanted to smack his head for not thinking about that, always thought that Lynne would be able to sneak up on anyone anyway.
"Of course!"
The castle was colder than usual as they crept through its stone corridors, the silence broken only by the faint scuff of his shoes against the metal prosthetics of his friend, and the soft whisper of fabric as Harry adjusted the cloak around them.
It was not a tight fit but for some reason, they were having issues while walking normally. If he had been taller he was sure they wouldn't be having a problem.
"It hurts to bump into you." joked harry in a whisper.
"You are slow." she replied, deadpan.
He tried not to laugh too loud, especially when she accidentally jabbed him in the ribs with her sharp elbows.
"Sorry." she said, although it didn't sound she meant it.
They turned a corner, hugging the wall as Flich's distant muttering echoed from another corridor. Harry held his breath and Lynne didn't move a muscle, he wondered if she was even breathing. Her control was unnerving and impressive at the same time. When it was safe again, she nudge him forward.
"Left foot first." she whispered.
"What?"
"You keep bumping into my legs and shoes."
He briefly remembered his short trip to London once where he saw the Queen's guard march and mumbled something about her surely being the tiniest guard if she tried. His mind picturing a Lynne dress in red attire with the black bonnet they use.
By the time they reached the Ravenclaw Tower, Harry was flushed and grinning. Lynne's hair was looking funny because of the static generated by friction between the cloak and her. She looked mildly annoyed at that but said nothing as they stepped into the common room.
"Would you be able to sleep now?"
"I don't know… I think so?"
"If you make yourself comfortable I can keep you company here until you fall asleep."
He never slept with anyone before so he agreed just to try something new, besides he felt he learnt something new about Lynne and that made him happy. Harry dropped the cloak onto one of the chairs by the fireplaces and sat down on the comfy couch. Lynne followed sitting on the edge of the armrest with quiet grace, her arms folding over one of her knees while her other leg was extended to support her.
He looked at her, eyes still bright, amused by her hairs.
"Thanks for not hexing me the third time I bumped into you."
"I considered it."
He laughed and he saw her relax finally, a soft genuine smile on her face. He was used to the faint flicker she gave Hermione or Professors in passing, but an amused and real smile that made the firelight shimmer softly against her pale face was rare.
For a little while, they said nothing more while the castle slept. He yawned as tiredness took hold of him and he closed his eyes, feeling the company of his friend close by.
----0000----
Alastor Moody was panting heavily, he was in a cold, dark cellar, it reeked of mildew and something metallic. He was chained to a battered wooden chair, arms tightly bound, his wand nowhere to be seen. A single, sputtering candle cast ghostly shadows against the grimy stone walls.
Despite the bruises and cuts, Moody's one visible eye glowed defiantly; the other, enchanted, spun wildly in its socket, searching tirelessly for weaknesses.
His captors had first kept him hidden for some time, clearly waiting for someone to come for him, they were clearly disappointed. They had moved to torture and interrogation. The last round of questions had ended in pain, but for them as much as for him. Moody's lips twisted into a savage grin as the door rattled open again.
"Still nothing, old man?" growled Walden McNair, stepping inside. "All we need is a name. The girl. Who sent her after us?"
Moody spat blood at McNair's feet. "You lot are losing your touch."
McNair lunged forward in fury, raising his wand but Moody was quicker. With a guttural roar, he surged forward, breaking the weakened chair legs beneath him. In one swift, brutal motion, he slammed McNair's face into the wall, grabbing his wand hand and twisting it violently until the wand clattered to the floor.
McNair screamed, but Moody wasn't listening. He snatched up the wand, and with practiced ease, the chains fell away, clanging loudly on the stone floor.
"Consider this your first and last lesson, McNair. Never get within arm's reach. Stupify."
The Death eaters and snatchers that were here as a trap were not expecting an attack from within, disorganized chaos filled their ranks as communication was not something they practiced. They were not sure what was happening until a few of Moody's spells connected.
He was currently trapped in a pureblood house, he was not exactly sure whose but he took mental note of everything he saw. If he ever returned to raid some of these places he would know who was responsible for this and make them pay.
Screams and spells were traded, even among their own as Moody moved with as much speed as his limbs allowed him, he missed his cane already.
He watched amused as the wards fell as some of the Death eaters thought it was wise to make their escape instead of fighting him.
Moments later, a loud crack echoed through the compound as Moody Disapparated, leaving behind only his broken captors and a spreading puddle of blood.
----0000----
Lucius Malfoy stood in his study, hands clasped behind his back, staring out at the gardens bathed in moonlight. The quiet was broken when a hurried knock at the door shattered his contemplation.
"Come in."
A young man, pale-faced and breathless, stepped into the room.
"Malfoy… Moody has escaped."
Lucius's jaw tightened visibly, but his voice remained coldly composed. "Escaped? How?"
"McNair underestimated him. Moody broke free and took his wand. He's injured badly. He said Moody left no trace to follow."
"And the girl?" Lucius asked sharply. "Did she make any move to help Moody? Did she show herself?"
"No." the Death Eater admitted. "She didn't come, but we knew that already, which is why we were interrogating him."
"Did we learn anything?"
"He had nothing on his possessions that he could use to communicate with anyone, and no one made contact with him. He obviously didn't talk."
Lucius's grip tightened on the edge of his desk, his knuckles whitening. "Then they were never allies. We wasted valuable resources on this gamble."
"Yes, sir," said the Death Eater quietly. "But there is... another matter. We fear the girl may be connected to the Lestranges then if the auror held no connection."
Lucius turned sharply, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus are rotting in Azkaban. I know some of you are paranoid but I find it hard to believe that they found a way to communicate with her."
"Not directly, but what about a contingency plan? To have someone raise them to continue in the future?" the Death Eater interrupted cautiously, flinching slightly under Lucius's cold glare. "And they might want revenge, punishment for our cowardice claiming Imperius."
Lucius's eyes darkened as he considered the implications. "Bellatrix was a loyal fanatic, and a mad woman. I'm not sure if she was sound of mind enough to do this though."
"Sir. The more extreme one sees us as traitors, it wouldn't surprise me at least.."
Lucius moved to the fireplace, staring into the flames. His fingers drummed impatiently on the marble mantelpiece. "This girl is becoming more than an inconvenience. We cannot afford another misstep."
The Death Eater waited nervously, watching the subtle tension ripple across Lucius's features.
"We will watch the girl closely, but discreetly for now, our second plan will come into motion soon. Be sure to remain under wards just in case." Lucius said at last. "If she's working with the Lestranges or their sympathizers... we'll have bigger problems than Moody."
"Yes, sir." With a quick bow, the young Death Eater hurried away.
Alone again, Lucius stared into the fire, his expression grim. He was not sure who would do such a thing anymore but the Malfoy family would beat all odds.
----0000----
The cold of the forgotten classroom clung to the air like mist. Harry sat motionless in front of the Mirror of Erised, his breath fogging faintly as he stared into the reflection.
His parents smiled back at him. Their hands rested on his shoulders. They looked solid and warm but at the same time felt impossible. They didn't speak but they looked at him as if they had always been watching.
He had come back to see them again. Just once more.
"Back again, Harry?"
The voice cut through the stillness like a soft knock on a closed door. Harry startled, turning to find Dumbledore standing behind him, robes trailing the floor, his hands clasped in front of him, as if by command the candles lit giving the room a warmer feeling.
"Sorry, Professor, I didn't see you." Harry said.
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible." he said amused.
Dumbledore offered a small smile and stepped forward, his gaze flicking to the mirror.
"I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I expect by now you realize what it does."
Harry looked down. "It's a mirror of desire. It shows me my parents."
"Yes...I would expect nothing less." Dumbledore said gently. "To one who has never known family, it is an image more powerful than any spell."
He moved to stand beside Harry. For a moment, they both faced the mirror, though Dumbledore did not look into it.
"So then, I want my family, and the mirror is showing me exactly that."
"Yes and no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them gathered around you." he said. "Sometimes that desire is simple. Sometimes it's more complicated, but the mirror will somehow make it work."
Harry hesitated. "Sir, Lynne also saw a family, but she wasn't happy as I was, she was just confused, what does that mean? "
Dumbledore gave no sign of surprise. He remained very still, the candlelight playing across his glasses.
"I cannot say for certain why miss Volant sees a family strange to her but there must be a reason. Why don't you ask her? She seems quite sharp and honest all the time."
"She stared into it for a long time," Harry continued. "She didn't say anything. But... something was wrong. I could see it in her eyes. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable, she is my friend."
Dumbledore gave him a faint smile. "You care about her."
"I just want to understand how to help." Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And that, Harry, is often more powerful than any spell in this castle. There are truths people must find on their own though. I would advise patience, for her to come to terms with whatever she saw."
He began to move away, but paused beside the mirror.
"The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow. I ask that you do not go looking for it again, Harry. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
Harry nodded, but his eyes lingered on the reflection.
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking..." he asked suddenly, "What do you see in the mirror?"
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, his eyes twinkling faintly.
"I see myself holding a pair of thick woollen socks. One can never have enough socks."
Harry blinked. "Socks?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said, already at the door. "Christmas socks, specifically. Warm and without holes."
He gave the mirror a last look, then at Harry, but he was no longer staring into it. He was thinking about Lynne, the strange quiet stillness in her face that night, as if she were seeing something not longed for, but misplaced. Something that shouldn't be there. Dumbledore stepped into the hallway, guiding him out of the room.
----0000----
Quirinus Quirrell moved quickly through the lower halls, robes brushing stone with a whisper. His hands shook as he tightened the clasps on his sleeves, but he kept his head down. His steps didn't echo. He liked it that way.
He was being followed. Not constantly, not obviously, but often enough to unravel him. She never spoke, never confronted. Just appeared in places she had no reason to be, too close to the Defense classroom, too near the staff quarters, once even outside the library at midnight, silent as snow. For some reason, these days she was always watching, waiting for him it seemed.
The girl most gifted in her year, even more than the Boy-who-lived. She unsettled the students, as well, he was not the only one feeling this way. But Quirrell had begun to believe she saw more than she should. Perhaps even… sensed what lived beneath his skin.
"You are afraid of her." the voice whispered from the back of his skull.
Quirrell winced, biting down panic. "She is dangerous," he murmured aloud, quiet enough not to carry.
Lynne terrified him. Not because she was loud or reckless, but because she wasn't. She was too still. Too quiet. There was no hatred in her eyes, no suspicion. Just calculation. In his eyes, it was worse than anger.
She could see the threads unraveling. Maybe not consciously, but she knew. And worst of all, he couldn't read her. Students in general were easy to discern, to know how they feel, they would usually wear their feelings on their faces. The girl on the other hand was like a locked box, there was nothing to see.
Or she could be exactly what she appeared to be a student with metal arms and a mind that moved like a knife.
He didn't know, and although he could rationalize that due to his current condition he might be paranoid, there were too many coincidental meetings.
And it made him sick.
"She is a child."
"She moves like a ghost. She sees things others miss. She doesn't sleep. She has no fear."
"Then remove her."
Quirrell's jaw clenched. "We still don't know how to get past that fool's creature, master."
"You are weak."
"You need me." he whispered. "If you kill her now, Dumbledore will intervene. He watches her too."
His vision swam for a moment. He leaned against the wall, breathing shallowly.
Quirinus had been a curious man, a scholar. Not brave or foolish, just drawn to knowledge that most dared not touch. He had wanted to understand the Dark Arts after studying muggles closely, he understood he needed to stop their threat from spreading to the wizarding world.
He had told himself that he wanted to protect, he didn't want to harm anyone but on his journey he realized that the threat was even bigger than what he initially thought. The muggles were spreading like cancer on the world, it was only a matter of time when they would be discovered, and then he was sure they would perish.
There was no way to win against the sheer number and scale of the technological advancement that they possessed. In his mind, they needed the greater evil, someone as powerful as Dumbledore but not as benevolent.
When he first met Voldemort, following the whispers of a great evil spreading through the forests of Albania, he had thought himself strong enough to bargain, to learn. He thought he could gain power and return to Hogwarts, not as a stuttering, overlooked academic, but as something respected, where he could teach young students to prepare for the muggle threat.
At first, he told himself it would be temporary. A year, perhaps less. Long enough to help his master regain strength, find the stone they discovered that was in Dumbledore's possession and then collect his freedom, reward and recognition. He would be remembered as the one responsible for saving wizard kind.
Instead, he became the doorway. The price of knowledge had been his body, his sleep, his health and the loss of his free will. His mind had been carved open, inch by inch and now his thoughts weren't always his own, now he woke with memories he hadn't lived. Some were quite unpleasant, he wasn't gaining any knowledge either.
Weeks passed, then months and the magic that tethered the thing in the back of his head to his own flesh grew tighter. The headaches grew worse and his limbs stiffened in the morning, the stammer he had once faked now came without effort.
He was dying, and had begun to wake in cold sweats, unable to feel his fingers. His body had grown colder these past weeks. His fingers sometimes refused to move properly. When he looked in the mirror, he could no longer see the color in his face. The food tasted like ash. Even the warmth of the castle fires didn't seem to reach his skin anymore, and Lord Voldemort knew, of course he knew.
The parasite was eating him alive.
Lately, he couldn't tell when the trembling in his hands was fear or possession. Still, he endured. Still, he obeyed. A fear of death was fueling his actions now, but he never particularly had this fear before, if he weren't so far gone, he would have known that fear was not his own.
The voice didn't respond immediately. Then, after a long moment, it hissed.
"You need to find a solution soon. You are dying, your body won't hold much longer. Do not fail me now!"
Quirrell had spent three nights pacing the forest's edge, studying the layout and searching for a workaround. He needed to find something, a spell, a substitute, anything to stop his body from decaying further, but there was not a workaround that would see him alive in the end.
His master had suggested unicorn blood, but he remembered what it meant, everyone did. Even the darkest of books whispered of its price, too high for anyone to even consider it.
Feeling of anxiety and dread filled his head, if he didn't find a solution soon he would have to curse himself, to live a half-life, a damned life even if it saved his soul from leaving his body.
Quirrell pressed his fingers to his temple, trembling. Down the corridor, the candles flickered slightly. His hand had begun to tremble again, the rot was spreading and he was going to add more garlic to hide the odor. He didn't want to die but he didn't want this either.
----0000----
The first week of January passed in a quiet blur. Hermione returned from her holiday in high spirits, bundled in a new winter cloak and already muttering about her trip to France to anyone who would listen. She realized that Lynne would often listen even if her face showed no emotion, so she would endlessly talk in front of her, by now Harry knew everything that happened in her trip.
Snow still blanked the castle grounds, and the warmth of the holidays had passed, replaced by the steady rhythm of lessons, hallways and homework. Normalcy, or at least as normal as Hogwarts ever was for him.
"Indica locus." he whispered, wand out.
The blue lights lit a path, shimmering and waving through the castle directing him to his next class. Lately, he didn't even need the spell to guide him where he needed to go, his memory was good enough to by now memorize the general layout of the castle, but he still practiced the spell.
He arrived alone to Charms class, as Lynne was disappearing more frequently every now and then, she was still having perfect attendance somehow, but he was missing her at times.
After class he caught up with her quickly in case she went somewhere else.
"I couldn't find you anywhere, Lynne, where do you go these days?"
"I'm just letting someone know they are being watched in case they decide to do something stupid."
That sounded ominous enough to not ask many questions, Harry wondered if she was being bullied again, his friend didn't seem to let her friends get involved in her fights. Still he had things to say so he let it go for now anyway.
"We caught up with Hagrid a bit with Hermione, I wanted you to be there but I couldn't find you."
"You could have let me know with your watch, Harry."
"Oh. You are right, I didn't think of it."
She chuckled and did a small motion for him to continue.
"We think we figured out what's being hidden on the third floor, it's some kind of artifact related to someone Hagrid mentioned without meaning to."
He paused. "Do you know who Nicholas Flamel is?"
Lynne didn't look surprised. "Yes."
Harry frowned. "Wait, you know who that is already?"
"Of course. Nicholas Flamel is an alchemist, born in the 14th Century, creator of the Philosopher's Stone which has granted him with almost eternal life. He is almost 700 years old now." she replied.
Harry blinked surprised. "Is that real?"
"Very real. The stone grants immortality through the Elixir of Life. It also produces unlimited gold but it was never its intended design."
Harry let that sink in.
"So that's what the Cerberus is guarding." he said, quietly amazed. "The stone is here, at Hogwarts."
"Which is weird, it was safe with the Flamel's. Unless Dumbledore is doing experiments with the stone it makes little sense."
"Someone wants it, otherwise they wouldn't guard it at all. But who?"
Lynne nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't think it's a student, Death Eaters still exist, they might want it for their Lord. Hagrid told you he believed he wasn't truly gone, others might believe that as well."
"But they cannot enter the school, right?" he asked hopeful.
"What about a professor?"
"Wha-? Who?" He looked thoughtful, his first suspect was Snape with how snappy and upset he was all the time.
"I have my doubts, I don't know yet, but I'm suspicious of one already. They've been quiet and patient so far, but the troll incident was weird enough."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. He thought that if it was a professor, the threat was bigger than what he initially accounted for. He felt that the other staff members didn't take it at all seriously enough, probably because most people thought Voldemort was gone.
They started walking back toward the stairwell, snow falling softly outside the windows.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Harry asked after a moment.
She glanced at him "Because sometimes knowing too much only makes the danger come faster, I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Harry."
He didn't reply but stayed at her side wondering. "I don't want anything to happen to you either."
She sighed. "We can probably get more information about the protections of the stone from Hagrid."
"I will find Hermione and we can go later, she wanted to know as well."
With a new plan in motion, they moved on to the next class for the day.