Narcissa drew a slow breath before exhaling softly, closing the heavy book in her lap as the thick cover settled against the aged pages with a dull, weighty thud that seemed to echo faintly throughout the room. Her pale blue eyes lifted toward the others gathered around the hearth where Sirius, James, Remus, Severus, Lily, and Peter all sat in varying states of stunned silence while Myrtle floated above them, their expressions caught somewhere between bewilderment and disbelief while the crackling firewood within the fireplace filled the quiet between them.
Firelight danced across the stone walls and polished floors, casting long shifting shadows throughout the room while midnight crept silently upon them, both hands of the great clock now resting upon twelve before the chimes finally rang out through the castle with deep reverberating tolls that seemed to hum through the very stones beneath the carpet they sat upon.
"Bloody hell," Sirius finally muttered while dragging a hand through the dark mess of his hair, looking thoroughly overwhelmed for perhaps the first time all evening. "It's like someone's cracked open my skull and stirred my brains about with a bloody ladle." He leaned back heavily afterward. "I mean, where in Merlin's name do we even begin with all this?"
"Tell me about it," James groaned while rubbing at his face. "At least with the whole Clock Tower mess, you could still mostly tell who the good blokes and the bastards were supposed to be, but now?" He gestured vaguely toward the closed book in Narcissa's lap. "Everything's happening at once. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I'm about five minutes away from confusing myself enough to start wearing my shoes on my head."
Severus let out a soft snort from where he sat near mouth of the fireplace, dark eyes half-lidded with dry amusement.
"Thank you, Potter," he drawled smoothly, "for gifting me that truly charming mental image." A faint simper touched his lips. "I shall treasure it forever."
James shot him an immediate glare.
Remus, meanwhile, leaned forward with his elbows resting against his thighs while rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. "Right, let's start at the top then," he said. "Firstly, the bloody Congregation's gone completely legitimate, and from the sounds of it they've spread across Avalon like mushrooms after rain." His brow furrowed. "And with the Tower practically collapsing in on itself after Burgess, they've more or less privatized law enforcement, contracts, protection, retrievals, the lot."
He exhaled sharply afterward.
"Merlin's beard," Remus muttered, "I genuinely can't decide whether that's terrifying or strangely impressive."
Severus gave the group a measured look before speaking again.
"Think back several entries," he said calmly, immediately drawing everyone's attention toward him. "Back when Salazar mentioned that whenever one pillar of authority collapses, another inevitably rises to fill the void left behind." His dark eyes narrowed slightly in thought. "He speculated then that the Congregation would likely become one of the forces to inherit that power vacuum."
A pause followed.
"That being said, I believe what neither he, nor Avalon itself, fully anticipated," Severus continued, "was the sheer speed at which the Congregation would move once the opportunity finally presented itself."
Lily tilted her head slightly, green eyes thoughtful beneath the firelight.
"Do you think he was right?" she asked quietly. "About all of this being planned long before any of it actually happened?" Her gaze drifted briefly toward the book. "Perhaps by former Chairs who anticipated Avalon would eventually lose faith in the Tower and turn toward the Congregation instead?"
"To be honest," Sirius said while folding his arms across his chest, "I'm not even particularly shocked." His expression dimmed faintly beneath the flickering glow of the fire. "Kingdoms rise, kingdoms fall. Entire nations disappeared within the last century alone, same with parts of the Wizarding World." He shrugged lightly. "We've had leaders, factions, ruling families, even entire Pureblood dynasties that once thought themselves untouchable vanish into history."
His steely gray eyes shifted toward the flames.
"Case in point, the Gaunts," Sirius said quietly. "After all, nothing lasts forever."
"And to think Caerleon's going through another upheaval on top of all this," Peter chimed in while reaching absentmindedly into his bag of crisps before giving a disappointed double take upon discovering it empty. He sighed mournfully at the betrayal before tossing the crumpled packet aside. "Mayor Ramonda's stepping down, the city's preparing for elections, and now everyone's scrambling to figure out who's meant to replace her."
"Quite fascinating when you truly consider it," Severus said while folding his arms neatly across his chest, one finger tapping thoughtfully against his sleeve. "An actual electoral process where the common populace possesses some measure of influence over governance itself rather than the absolute monarchies one would typically expect from societies descending from the Founders' era."
"Well, Avalon does sound rather progressive in certain respects," Myrtle added while adjusting herself slightly closer to the fire. "The Council of Kings, the Wizarding Council, the Mage's Association and the Three Bodies all balancing against one another." Her expression dimmed afterward. "Though admittedly, judging by everything we've read, that balance seems rather flawed."
"Still," Remus interjected thoughtfully, "we've only really heard about two of the candidates so far. Jacob Ramonda honestly sounds fairly decent from what we've heard." He rubbed lightly at his chin. "Matthias Graymark on the other hand…" A scoff escaped him. "Merlin's beard, the bloke sounds like an absolute twat."
"The predictable follies of nobility," Severus said dryly, "steeped in arrogance, self-importance, and an almost laughable disconnect from the concept of consequences." His dark eyes slid toward Narcissa. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Narcissa met the look with a composed, knowing smile.
"I know precisely what you're attempting to imply, Severus," she replied evenly, "however there is a rather significant distinction between prejudice and outright support for something as grotesque as slavery."
Her bright blue eyes briefly flickered toward Sirius, who had already begun scowling before she returned her attention to the rest of the group. "The Blacks, the Malfoys, regardless of our… perspectives, would still draw the line at such things." A faint sharpness entered her tone. "We may be elitists, but we are not monsters."
"Could've fooled me," Sirius muttered beneath his breath.
Narcissa's gaze snapped toward him almost immediately. "Something you wish to say, dear cousin?"
Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically.
"Oh, please," he scoffed. "You're having a laugh if you genuinely believe our lot would behave any differently under the right circumstances." His expression darkened faintly. "If laws and public outrage weren't things in our world, families like ours would be no better than the Gramonts." He shook his head bitterly. "I'd wager father would've positively adored the idea of selling Muggles and Muggle-borns like cattle if it lined the family vaults enough."
The room fell slightly quieter at that.
"And the worst part?" Sirius continued grimly. "In Avalon, people like him probably wouldn't even be hated for it. They'd be celebrated."
"Once again," Severus said with a weary sigh, "I find myself deeply irritated by the fact that I'm agreeing with a Black." His dark eyes shifted back toward Narcissa. "Though Sirius is not entirely incorrect."
Narcissa's expression hardened.
"Do you honestly believe," Severus continued smoothly, "that your precious betrothed would not leap at the opportunity to place a polished silver collar around Evan's neck and drag her obediently to heel if society permitted it?"
Narcissa opened her mouth to answer, though Severus spoke over her before she could.
"Wouldn't you?" he asked quietly, his gaze level and unwavering.
For the briefest moment, Narcissa genuinely faltered. Her lips parted slightly, though no answer came.
Lily cleared her throat sharply into the silence.
"Severus," she said firmly, her tone darkening with clear disapproval, "that's quite enough."
His gaze shifted toward him.
"Speaking in hypotheticals like this never leads anywhere productive," Lily continued while looking around the room at all of them. "All it does is reinforce people's prejudices and assumptions about one another." She folded her arms lightly. "There's absolutely no proof that Pureblood families in our world would engage in something that abhorrent simply because Avalon does."
"But there's equally no evidence proving they wouldn't," Severus countered calmly before pausing a moment later and letting out a quiet sigh. "Though I suppose, infuriatingly enough, you are correct." His expression softened marginally. "This discussion is rapidly becoming counterproductive."
"And besides," James said, "Avalon isn't entirely awful when you actually stop and look at it properly. Caerleon itself is a Sanctuary City." He gestured lightly with one hand while speaking. "Escaped slaves can actually find protection there. The laws lean in favor of the enslaved rather than the slavers, which honestly sounds downright revolutionary compared to most of the places we've read about."
His expression softened faintly. "I only wish more cities had adopted the same approach." A quiet sigh escaped him afterward. "Better yet, I wish the whole bloody institution had simply been abolished outright."
"And then there's Zygerria," Sirius muttered darkly while dragging a hand down his face. "Bloody hell." He shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Imagine an entire city built around slavery. A proper marketplace for it. Like Diagon Alley, except instead of popping into Ollivanders for a wand, you stroll into a shop and pick out another human being."
The disgust in his tone was unmistakable.
"I genuinely can't wrap my head around what that must feel like for the slaves themselves," Sirius continued more quietly. "Bound, gagged, shoved on display like livestock while complete strangers inspect you and decide what parts of your life they're entitled to own." His jaw tightened. "Knowing your body's become a commodity and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it because the entire system's designed to strip away any illusion of choice."
Myrtle lowered her gaze toward the fire, her expression dim beneath the flickering light.
"Like those girls," she said softly. "The ones dragged back to the Mills." Her words tightened faintly. "That was just horrible. Properly horrible."
Silence settled briefly over the room afterward until Peter finally spoke up again.
"Speaking of horrible people," he muttered, "Hector Khan."
Everyone's attention shifted toward him.
"Sweet cheese and crackers," Peter continued while shaking his head. "The bloke's terrifying." He gestured vaguely toward the book still resting in Narcissa's lap. "And not just powerful either. He's apparently one of the Authority's strongest agents, practically their equivalent to Wilhelm or Winston back when the Tower still had monsters like that walking around."
His expression darkened uneasily.
"And the way he spoke about exterminating rebelling slaves…" Peter grimaced. "Bloody hell, how does someone talk about mass murder that casually?"
"When one becomes sufficiently accustomed to even the most grotesque acts imaginable," Severus replied, his tone measured and coldly analytical beneath the warmth of the firelight, "eventually those acts cease to register as monstrous altogether." His dark eyes remained fixed upon the dancing flames. "Especially for a man like Hector Khan, who clearly no longer perceives slaves as people in the first place."
He paused briefly.
"To him," Severus continued quietly, "they are vermin."
"That can't possibly be true," Lily interjected almost immediately while frowning toward him. "Everyone has empathy, Severus. Maybe buried somewhere deep down, but it's there."
"Pray tell, Evans," Severus said while finally turning his gaze toward her, "do you feel empathy for a rat after it chews through your books?" His words remained smooth and composed. "Or for a gnat incessantly buzzing around your ear while you're attempting to sleep?"
Lily opened her mouth slightly, though he continued before she could answer.
"Do you mourn the fish adorning your supper plate while seasoning it with salt?" Severus asked softly. "Empathy, much like morality itself, is selective." His dark eyes narrowed faintly. "Reserved. Some lives inspire guilt. Others barely warrant a passing thought."
His gaze shifted slowly toward Narcissa then, though unlike before, he said nothing further aloud. The implication alone lingered heavily enough within the room.
"And Hector and Bastion clearly have history together," Remus said thoughtfully while rubbing lightly at his temple, his brow furrowed beneath the firelight. "From the sound of it, they were inseparable once, proper best mates, and then something happened that dragged them onto completely different paths." His expression dimmed. "Now Hector's returned as the very sort of monster they both used to despise together."
He let out a weary sigh.
"Bedknobs and broomsticks," Remus muttered, "everyone in that bloody book seems to have a best friend who eventually turns rotten." He began counting absently on his fingers. "Headmaster Blaise and Winston Ravenclaw with Burgess, Serfence and Workner with Creedy, now Bastion and Hector." He shook his head slowly. "Honestly feels like the whole story's built on friendships falling apart."
"Blimey," Sirius said while exhaling sharply into the silence that followed, "let's all just collectively agree never to become evil maniacs and betray one another, shall we?" He grimaced faintly. "Can't imagine what it'd feel like getting stabbed in the back by one of our own lot."
"With the company you insist on keeping, Black," Severus replied smoothly with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, "I would hardly say the odds are in your favor."
Sirius scoffed immediately. "Oh, please," he shot back. "If there's anyone here likely to become a turncoat, it'd be you."
Severus merely looked mildly offended by the accusation rather than genuinely insulted.
"Still," Lily interjected before the argument could properly spiral, "am I the only one actually worried about Bastion?"
The others gradually turned toward her.
"He just feels… different now," she continued quietly while drawing her knees slightly closer to herself. "From the earlier entries, he used to sound fiery and stubborn, the sort of person who'd throw himself into danger without thinking twice if someone was being treated unfairly." Her green eyes lowered briefly. "Honestly, he sounded a lot like Godric once."
A heaviness entered her expression afterward.
"But now…" Lily hesitated softly. "Now he just sounds tired." Her tone lowered further. "Not exhausted physically, but properly broken." She frowned faintly. "Like somewhere along the way he simply stopped believing things could get better."
"Not unlike Gryffindor himself after Raine," Narcissa said quietly. "Even someone like Godric was eventually brought low by grief." Her pale blue eyes reflected the firelight thoughtfully. "Part of me hopes Bastion eventually finds that fire within himself again, though I fear his battle will be far more difficult." A faint sadness crossed her face. "Godric had friends to drag him back from the edge. Bastion, from the sounds of it, appears terribly alone."
"Well," James said, "seems Bastion's not entirely alone anymore." A faint grin tugged at his face. "Raul Reyes, his new partner." He let out a low whistle afterward. "And by the stars above, what he did in that diner…" James shook his head slowly in disbelief. "The bloke's a mundane, and he still tore through those bastards like it was nothing."
"More concerning than Mister Reyes himself," Severus interjected while folding his arms tighter across his chest, "is the existence of those Cast Assist Devices. We've already had a glimpse of it back when Volg wielded it in his duel with Godric." His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully beneath the firelight. "Imagine, technology capable of allowing muggles or squibs to wield genuine magic."
The room quieted slightly at that.
"And not merely wield it," Severus continued, "but bypass traditional spellcasting entirely." A faint scoff escaped him. "Why spend years mastering wand movements, incantations, discipline, and magical theory when one may simply slot a spell into a machine and allow it to cast on one's behalf?"
His expression hardened faintly.
"From a traditionalist perspective, it is a complete farce," Severus admitted, "though I confess the very concept is profoundly terrifying if such technology genuinely exists." His gaze swept the room carefully. "Because the moment magic ceases to belong exclusively to wizards, the entire balance of the magical world collapses alongside it."
"Hogwarts would go out of business," Sirius said with a bark of laughter. "Can you imagine it?" He grinned broadly. "Professor McGonagall and Flitwick standing outside Diagon Alley clutching cardboard signs asking for employment."
"Honestly, Sirius," Lily snapped immediately, appalled by the image, "what a dreadful thing to say."
Sirius merely lifted his shoulders in a shameless shrug.
"I'm just saying," he replied, still grinning, "the thought of McGonagall glaring at people for spare Knuts is admittedly a little funny."
"By the way," Peter suddenly chimed in with renewed enthusiasm, "that new Sheriff, Elias Kane."
The mood shifted slightly at once.
"Now there's a bloke who sounds properly wicked," Peter continued eagerly. "Nothing like that bastard Hartshorne either." His eyes widened slightly. "And he's blind. Plus, he used to be an Unspeakable."
"I've read about Unspeakables before," Severus said. "The Department of Mysteries exists within our own Ministry as well, though nowhere near to the extent described in Avalon." His dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "From what little is publicly known, they are effectively covert operatives conducting highly classified work in absolute secrecy."
"Sounds rather like James Bond, honestly," Lily said brightly.
Every head in the room turned toward her save for Severus, whose expression merely shifted into faint recognition.
Lily blinked at the sea of confusion staring back at her.
"James Bond?" she repeated slowly. "Double-O Seven? Ian Fleming?" Her hands gestured vaguely in disbelief. "Martinis? Shaken, not stirred?" The silence only deepened. "Sean Connery?"
The collective blankness in the room somehow grew worse. Lily stared at them in horror.
"Honestly," she groaned while rolling her eyes dramatically, "the lot of you are painfully uncultured."
"And for perhaps the first time this evening," Severus said with a faint smirk curling across his lips, "I find myself in wholehearted agreement with Evans."
Sirius immediately narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, come off it," he scoffed. "What would you know about James Bond?"
"A great deal more than you evidently do," Severus replied silkily. "Though if you insist upon asking, I've always been rather partial to Goldfinger and Live and Let Die myself."
Sirius stared at him in genuine disbelief. Severus merely raised a brow.
"And thus," he concluded smugly, "I rest my case."
"Nevertheless," Lily said softly while tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear, "I do think Elias becoming a mentor figure for Bastion might genuinely help him through all this." Her expression softened beneath the firelight. "Maybe he'll remind Bastion of the sort of man he used to be before the Tower ground him down into just another Guardian carrying a badge and a list of regrets."
"I agree," Myrtle chimed in while nodding thoughtfully. "Especially with those Colors ruffians running about the city under the command of those masked specters." She tapped lightly against her temple while thinking aloud. "Do you reckon they're working for one of the candidates? Stirring chaos everywhere so nobody notices what's really happening behind the scenes?"
"I would hardly be surprised," Narcissa replied coolly. "Politics itself is an extraordinarily filthy business, often populated by people equally as filthy." She folded her arms neatly. "Like pigs rolling in muck while still convincing themselves they remain pristine."
Sirius snorted at the comparison.
Narcissa continued regardless.
"Misdirection is one of the oldest tricks imaginable," she said. "And between the Colors, Libertas insurgents, the Congregation, the Union, the Authority, and the election itself, there are entirely too many moving pieces already crowding the board."
Peter suddenly groaned loudly while clutching at his hair.
"Argh!" he whined dramatically. "This is so bloody confusing. I swear my head's about to explode!"
"Of course," Severus sighed while rolling his eyes skyward, "Pettigrew possesses roughly the same intellectual capacity as a concussed Niffler."
That earned a pair of stifled laughs from Lily and Myrtle. Severus gave a long-suffering shake of his head before gesturing lazily with one hand.
"Allow me to simplify matters into terms your tragically underdeveloped mind might actually comprehend," he said smoothly.
Peter frowned immediately.
"City holding election," Severus began while counting lightly upon his fingers. "One candidate appears decent. Another appears deplorable. Third remains an unknown variable." Another finger lifted. "Clock Tower collapses, Congregation expands to fill the vacuum." Another. "Masked gangs create chaos throughout the city under the command of equally mysterious individuals and may or may not be connected to the candidates involved." Another. "Election reaches stalemate." He tilted his head slightly afterward. "Therefore, everyone suddenly requires Godric's favor in order to tip the scales."
Severus lowered his hand gracefully. "Understood?"
Peter blinked twice before nodding enthusiastically. "Ooooh," he said brightly. "When you explain it like that, I actua—" The realization suddenly struck him. "Hang on," Peter snapped while narrowing his eyes indignantly. "I'm not that dim-witted!"
That finally broke the tension completely. Sirius burst into loud laughter first, followed quickly by James collapsing sideways while howling into his sleeve. Remus doubled over beside him while even Narcissa struggled unsuccessfully to suppress her amusement behind her hand. Myrtle dissolved into giggles while Lily laughed openly into the warmth of the firelight. Even Severus allowed himself the faintest satisfied smirk at Peter's expense.
Peter folded his arms tightly across his chest, still looking thoroughly offended. "I'm not…" he grumbled beneath his breath, the pout on his face only making the others fight harder not to laugh again.
"Since you brought up Godric's influence," Narcissa said smoothly, steering the conversation elsewhere while drawing everyone's attention back toward her, "Jeanne herself remains quite the revelation. Not merely a noblewoman, but a member of one of Avalon's Twelve Imperial Families." She shook her head faintly in disbelief. "By the stars, that's rather extraordinary."
"Right?" Lily said immediately, sitting forward with renewed interest. "The Patron Saint of France herself essentially being Avalon royalty is honestly incredible."
Remus opened his mouth, already lifting a finger in preparation to object. Lily narrowed her eyes at him immediately. "And before you say it, Remus," she cut in, "yes, I know there's no concrete historical evidence supporting any of this."
Remus lifted his finger again.
"And yes," Lily continued firmly, "I also know Joan of Arc was supposedly burned at the stake at nineteen." She gestured lightly with one hand. "But we've literally learned in History of Magic that witches and wizards condemned for witchcraft often survived executions due to protection charms." Her expression sharpened thoughtfully. "Some even found the sensation amusing enough to deliberately allow themselves to be caught repeatedly."
James grimaced slightly.
"Bit mental, honestly," Sirius muttered.
"So," Narcissa said slowly, following Lily's train of thought, "what you're suggesting is that Jeanne could have faked her death entirely before disappearing back into Avalon to reclaim her place within the D'Arc family?"
Lily shrugged faintly.
"When you actually think about it," James chimed in while folding his arms across his chest, "it's not impossible." He frowned afterward. "Honestly, why would she stay?" His words hardened slightly. "France owed half its survival to her victories only to betray her the moment it became politically convenient."
A scoff escaped him. "And then afterward they turned around and canonized her so the king wouldn't look like an absolute twat sitting on a throne won through the efforts of a girl they condemned as a witch."
"Harsh," Severus said from beside the fire, "though history is rarely kind enough to concern itself with hypocrisy." His dark eyes flickered thoughtfully. "And regrettably, I do find myself agreeing with Potter. Stranger things have certainly occurred."
Remus groaned dramatically while dragging both hands down his face.
"Merlin's saggy trousers," he muttered. "Look at us." He gestured vaguely around the room. "We've officially reached the point where we're inventing conspiracy theories just to fill in the gaps of this bloody book."
"Conspiracy or not," Narcissa interjected calmly, "Lady Genevieve was still correct about one thing."
The room quieted slightly.
"If all three candidates truly are deadlocked," she continued, "then Godric's endorsement may very well determine the outcome of the election itself." Her expression dimmed faintly. "Not merely for Caerleon either, but potentially Avalon as a whole."
A thoughtful silence settled briefly over the group. "Which means," Narcissa finished softly, "that the moment Godric defeated Burgess and saved all of Caerleon, he effectively painted a target across his own back."
"Well," Sirius said, "you don't exactly earn a title like Hero of Caerleon without people suddenly caring about your opinions." He let out a low whistle afterward. "Bloody hell though, the bloke's barely been at school a year and already looks like he's aged twenty."
James shook his head.
"I honestly couldn't live like that," Sirius continued. "Imagine walking around knowing your name's become famous enough that every bugger in the city recognizes you on sight."
"With an ego roughly the size of Scotland itself, Black," Severus replied with a smirk, "I have absolutely no doubt such a fate awaits you eventually."
Sirius shot him an immediate scowl before grinning right back. "You're only jealous because one day my face might actually end up plastered across the entire wizarding world."
"Of course," Severus said dryly. "As the wizarding world's most wanted."
The grin vanished from Sirius' face so quickly that James burst into laughter almost instantly, followed closely by Remus collapsing sideways against the floor while Peter wheezed loudly beside him.
"Ooo, he got you there, mate!" Peter cackled while pointing at Sirius.
"Shut up, Pettigrew!" Sirius snapped back immediately, his face reddening while the others continued laughing around him.
"All that aside," Narcissa said at last, her tone noticeably graver than before as the amusement slowly drained from her expression, "perhaps we should address where we actually left off." She rested a hand lightly atop the closed journal in her lap. "Headmaster Blaise and Lucian Graymark's little pet project. The Disciplinary Committee."
The atmosphere in the room seemed to sink immediately.
"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered while blinking in disbelief. "I'd almost forgotten about that. Honestly sounds like the faculty's come out swinging directly at the Visionaries, the High Table, and the entire Congregation itself."
"If I'm being honest," James said thoughtfully while folding his arms across his chest, "I genuinely can't figure out what Headmaster Blaise's endgame is supposed to be here." He frowned slightly. "Lucian's easier to understand. The bloke clearly means well, but he sounds like someone who's got himself swept up in his own sense of justice without properly thinking through what happens next."
"I concur," Severus said smoothly while steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "I suspect Mister Graymark still believes himself a child playing knights and dragons beneath the illusion that rules and institutional authority will somehow shield him from consequences." A faint scoff escaped him. "The poor naïve fool has absolutely no understanding of the forces he is provoking, nor the sort of people he is attempting to challenge."
His dark eyes narrowed slightly. "And if matters continue escalating as they are," Severus continued quietly, "I fear that foolish child is going to get people seriously hurt."
"Wouldn't exactly be the first time, and certainly won't be the last," Remus said while leaning back in his beanbag with a weary sigh. "Hogwarts has had its fair share of Prefects who got even the tiniest scrap of authority and suddenly started acting like they personally ruled the entire castle." His amber eyes shifted toward Narcissa. "Your beloved Lucius being a perfect example."
Narcissa rolled her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical.
"We may be betrothed, Lupin," she replied coolly, "but that hardly means I possess any genuine affection for the boy." A faint look of disgust crossed her face. "Frankly, I find him just as insufferable as the rest of you do."
Sirius barked out a laugh at that. Narcissa merely continued.
"Perhaps one day he shall finally outgrow this rather embarrassing phase of self-righteousness, childish tantrums, and desperate attempts to impress authority figures," she said while gesturing with one hand. "And when that miraculous day eventually arrives, perhaps I may discover some microscopic capacity to tolerate him."
She sighed dramatically afterward.
"Until then, Lucius Malfoy remains an absolute embarrassment." Her eyes narrowed faintly. "To both my family and his own."
"Oof," Peter winced loudly. "You didn't just stab him straight through the heart. You twisted the blade afterward too."
"And honestly," Myrtle chimed in while folding her translucent arms, "Hogwarts has already had examples of what happens when Prefects become a bit too fond of their own authority."
The room quieted slightly at her tone.
"There was one when I was alive," Myrtle continued thoughtfully. "Can't remember his name anymore, though I remember he took his duties far too seriously." Her expression dimmed. "Boy came from a…" She hesitated delicately while touching her fingers together awkwardly. "Well, let's just say a country that ended up very much on the wrong side of history during the Muggles' big war."
Severus immediately understood what she meant.
"Anyway," Myrtle continued, "he started going after students rather aggressively. Said things he absolutely shouldn't have said. Did things he definitely shouldn't have done."
A pause lingered.
"And then one evening," Myrtle said more quietly, "they found him out in the Forbidden Forest."
Everyone stared at her.
"Bound, gagged, and beaten half to death," she finished. "Someone had carved that symbol into his forehead with a blade." She gestured vaguely toward her own brow. "You know the one."
Sirius' expression tightened immediately.
"Never found out who did it either," Myrtle said quietly. "Truthfully, most of the professors didn't seem especially eager to investigate what happened." She gave a faint shrug afterward. "Well, except for Professor Dumbledore."
The room remained silent as she continued.
"Professor Dippet was Headmaster at the time," Myrtle explained, "and in the end he decided it was safer simply to send the boy home altogether." Her expression dimmed further. "The war amongst the Muggles was getting worse by the month, tensions everywhere were dreadful, and public sentiment had become absolutely poisonous."
She folded her arms tighter across herself. "I think the school was terrified that things would eventually spiral into students attacking one another over national loyalties and politics." Myrtle sighed softly. "Especially once certain opinions and sympathies started surfacing inside the castle."
A brief pause lingered.
"Afterward," she continued, "the faculty issued warnings to every Prefect in Hogwarts." Her eyes lifted back toward the others. "Keep your wits about you. Do not abuse your authority. And most importantly, never assume the badge on your chest makes you untouchable."
"Bloody hell," Remus muttered beneath his breath afterward while rubbing at the back of his neck. "Suppose even students can turn properly vicious when cornered." His expression darkened thoughtfully. "People like to think schoolchildren are harmless right up until they feel threatened enough to prove otherwise."
Lily hesitated briefly before speaking.
"You genuinely think the Congregation and the High Table would go that far?" she asked softly. "An actual war?"
"At this point?" Narcissa replied. "I believe the odds increasingly favor yes."
The room quieted again.
"There is simply too much at stake now," Narcissa continued. "Too much influence, too much power, too much legitimacy for either side to quietly step aside without resistance." Her gaze hardened faintly. "And I sincerely doubt the High Table will tolerate what they undoubtedly perceive as a child attempting to crowd the grown-ups away from the table they built."
A faint smirk touched her lips afterward. "Frankly," she admitted coolly, "if I myself sat upon that Table, Lucian and his merry band of Prefects would already be under formal notice."
"Of course they would," Sirius scoffed immediately. "Spoken exactly like a Black." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Only our family could take a mild insult personally enough to demand blood sacrifice in return."
Narcissa's smile widened slightly.
"Oh, dear cousin," she said smoothly, "do stop pretending you wouldn't do precisely the same thing." She tilted her head lightly. "After all, the very same blood runs through your veins as well, and if memory serves correctly, you have never once tolerated even the slightest insult without retaliating in spectacular fashion."
Sirius' expression darkened at once.
"On that particular point," he muttered grudgingly, "we unfortunately agree."
Before the tension could properly settle again, Lily cleared her throat rather loudly.
"Right," she announced firmly while rising to her feet, "before this conversation devolves any further, it's getting terribly late."
The others gradually stirred from their spaces upon the carpet.
"I think we should all head back to our dormitories," Lily continued while brushing down the sleeves of her jumper. "And perhaps this weekend we ought to take a trip down to Hogsmeade together."
Peter immediately brightened.
"Ooo, brilliant," he exclaimed enthusiastically. "I can stock back up on crisps." He patted his stomach mournfully. "Merlin knows listening to that journal makes me absolutely ravenous every single time."
"Trust us, Wormy," Remus sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose, "we've all noticed." He shook his head dramatically. "Honestly, Peter, you spend your entire allowance on junk food. It's genuinely appalling."
"You're only jealous because I possess refined taste and you don't," Peter shot back indignantly.
James barked out a laugh while Sirius groaned loudly into the beanbags.
"Wormy," Sirius muttered, "your idea of refined taste is choosing between salted crisps and cheese-and-onion."
"A small word of caution first," Narcissa said, drawing everyone's attention back toward her. "From what I've heard, Hogsmeade hasn't exactly been safe these past few months." Her expression dimmed slightly. "Apparently a street gang calling themselves the Ashwinders have been causing trouble for the locals."
"Ashwinders…" Remus tapped thoughtfully against his chin. "Why does that name sound so painfully familiar?"
"Because, Lupin," Severus interjected smoothly, "they are hardly original." He folded his arms neatly across his chest. "The Ashwinders were once affiliated with the Rookwood Gang during the nineteenth century under a particularly unsavory criminal named Victor Rookwood."
James raised a brow.
"An heir, perhaps?" Sirius asked.
"Unlikely," Severus replied at once. "The Rookwood line effectively died out decades ago, and even if remnants of it survived somewhere, I sincerely doubt they've devolved into common street thugs." He gestured dismissively with one hand. "More likely some idiotic hooligan adopting an infamous name in hopes of appearing more dangerous than he truly is." A faint scoff escaped him. "Rather like Cardin and his absurd obsession with the Midnighters."
"So basically," Remus sighed, "we're dealing with small-time idiots trying to frighten people into taking them seriously." He rolled his eyes. "Mangy little krups don't exactly terrify me."
Narcissa smirked faintly.
"Confident, aren't you?" she mused. "Several sixth years thought much the same before attempting to teach the Ashwinders a lesson." Her smile widened slightly. "They returned to Hogwarts stark naked with every possession they owned thoroughly pilfered."
"But if they're causing problems," Lily asked, "why haven't the professors restricted travel to Hogsmeade?"
"Because thus far the crimes have remained relatively minor," Narcissa explained. "Petty thefts, muggings, the occasional robbery." She sighed softly. "The faculty likely doesn't wish to ruin Hogsmeade visits over what they currently consider manageable incidents."
Her expression darkened afterward.
"Though personally," she continued quietly, "I question how long it will remain that way." Her eyes narrowed faintly. "People like that always push further eventually. First theft, then violence, then something worse." A pause lingered. "Just like the Colors in the journal."
"And by the time anyone realizes how dangerous they've become," James said grimly, "it's usually already too late."
Lily exhaled softly, some of the tension finally easing from her shoulders. "Regardless, I'm certain we'll be perfectly fine so long as we keep our wits about us." Her green eyes shifted apologetically toward Myrtle afterward. "Sorry we can't exactly bring you along, given your…" She gestured vaguely toward the ghost girl's translucent form.
Myrtle let out a dramatic sigh before chuckling to herself.
"Yes, yes, I know," she said mournfully. "A whole weekend deprived of the thrilling adventures of Godric Gryffindor and Avalon." She tilted her head with exaggerated sorrow. "However shall I survive?"
A beat passed.
"But I suppose," Myrtle added with a snort, "I'll live."
A collective groan swept through the room.
"By the Deathly Hallows," Severus muttered while pinching the bridge of his nose as though physically pained, "that actually injured me on a spiritual level." He rose smoothly from his spot by the hearth, dusting invisible lint from his sleeve. "If none of you mind, I believe I shall excuse myself before that joke succeeds in giving me an aneurysm."
James stifled a laugh. Severus ignored him entirely while moving toward the exit.
"I assume we are still meeting at the Three Broomsticks," he said over his shoulder. "I shall head there ahead of the rest of you, so do not trouble yourselves waiting for me."
Narcissa rolled her eyes faintly.
"Of course," she sighed. "The boy behaves as though prolonged social interaction causes physical illness."
Severus merely gave a dismissive flick of his hand without looking back. Narcissa then lifted the heavy journal from her lap before extending it carefully toward Lily.
"As much as I've enjoyed narrating this delightful little saga to all of you," she said smoothly, "I suspect it would be considerably safer in your possession for the time being." Her expression sharpened slightly. "I do have an unfortunate tendency to attract unwanted attention."
Her attention shifted toward Sirius, silently daring him to comment. Sirius only scoffed and looked away.
"Wise decision," he muttered beneath his breath.
Narcissa smirked faintly before rising gracefully to her feet and straightening the sleeves of her robes.
"Now then," she said, "if you'll all excuse me, I believe I shall retire for the evening as well." Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "Though I must admit, I rather look forward to our little rendezvous in Hogsmeade."
She gave a playful wink before turning elegantly on her heel and making her way toward the exit.
The boys gradually began rising afterward as well, exhaustion finally beginning to settle over the room.
"Well," Remus sighed while stretching lightly, "it's been a rather long night." He rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Reckon we should all get some sleep. Merlin knows we've spent enough hours buried in that journal already."
"I'm honestly willing to bet Wormy now knows more about Avalon than he does actual History of Magic," Sirius said with a grin. "Give him another month and he'll start lecturing Binns."
Peter scoffed indignantly.
"That's hardly my fault," he protested while folding his arms. "Actual History of Magic is unbearably dull." He gestured dramatically. "Honestly, if the curriculum involved more sword fights, legendary heroes, magical wars, and fewer bloody Goblin Rebellions, I'd pass my O.W.L.s with straight Os."
"For once," Sirius groaned while shuffling toward the doorway alongside the others, "I might actually agree with you." He dragged a hand through his dark hair. "If I have to sit through one more lecture about goblins throwing tantrums over silver rights, I'll fling myself into the Black Lake."
"Please," Remus said dryly, "forget History of Magic, Padfoot. I've seen you fall asleep during Transfiguration."
"Because turning cats into cauldrons is mind-numbingly boring," Sirius exclaimed while throwing both hands into the air. "Honestly, maybe Salazar was onto something. Transfiguration really is a dreadful waste of time."
"Careful," James said with a grin. "If McGonagall hears you saying that, she'll probably turn you into a cauldron herself."
"Oh, sod off, Prongs," Sirius snapped while the others burst into laughter around him.
Lily carefully tucked the journal back into her satchel before swinging the strap over her shoulder, offering Myrtle a small wave as the ghost girl slowly faded through the floor with a final dramatic sigh about being abandoned for the weekend. The others gradually filtered out into the corridor beyond, their voices fading further down the hall until only James lingered at the doorway.
He stopped at the threshold and turned back toward her.
"Er… Lily?" he asked, suddenly sounding far less confident than usual. "May I speak with you a moment?"
Lily paused mid-step, her green eyes widening slightly before soft amusement softened her expression.
"Something the matter?" she asked.
James immediately rubbed the back of his neck.
"No. Well, yes. I mean…" He grimaced faintly at himself. "Not wrong exactly." His ears had already begun turning red. "I was just wondering if perhaps… well…"
Lily waited patiently while James visibly fought for his dignity.
"If maybe you'd like me to accompany you to Hogsmeade this weekend," he finally blurted.
Lily blinked once. Then slowly, a grin spread across her face as her eyes half-lidded with unmistakable amusement.
"James Fleamont Potter," she said sweetly, "are you actually asking me out?"
"No!" James yelped instantly before turning a brilliant shade of crimson. "I-I mean…" He dragged a hand through his hair in complete panic. "Well, only if you wanted it to be that, I suppose." He straightened awkwardly afterward, gesturing helplessly with both hands. "But if you don't want to, that's perfectly fine too, obviously."
Lily stared at him for another second before laughing softly.
"James," she said while stepping closer, "relax." Her smile gentled afterward. "I was only teasing."
James blinked.
"And…" Lily continued, her own cheeks warming faintly now, "I'd love to go with you."
James looked momentarily stunned.
"R-Really?!" he exclaimed before quickly lowering his tone again. "Right, yes, of course." He cleared his throat while attempting and failing to recover his composure. "So… this weekend? Nine o'clock? After breakfast?"
His smile turned painfully awkward. Lily shook her head fondly before walking past him into the corridor.
"Oh, James," she sighed playfully, "you really are an enormous plonker." She stopped a few paces later and glanced back over her shoulder, red hair catching the dim torchlight. "I'll meet you at the castle entrance."
Then she turned and disappeared down the corridor. James stood frozen for exactly two seconds before pumping his fist victoriously into the air with the widest grin imaginable spread across his face. Behind him, the Room of Requirement slowly dimmed into darkness, the candles flickering out one by one as the hidden chamber faded silently back into nothingness the moment James pulled the door shut behind him.
****
The town of Hogsmeade, nestled only a stone's throw from Hogwarts Castle, rested quietly beneath a blanket of winter snow, hidden deep within the mountains and thick woodland far beyond the reach of wandering Muggles and non-magical eyes. Frost clung delicately to the dark needles of the fir trees surrounding the town while snow drifted steadily from the pale heavens above, settling atop weathered rooftops, ancient stone walls, and the winding cobbled streets that curved warmly through the heart of the little wizarding settlement.
James and Lily walked side by side through the familiar stoned paths, weaving between bundled-up townsfolk and groups of Hogwarts students enjoying their weekend reprieve from castle life. Their winter uniforms were thick against the cold, maroon-and-gold Gryffindor scarves wrapped snugly around their necks while their gloved hands remained buried deep within their coat pockets, though even then the bitter chill still nipped mercilessly at their cheeks and fingertips. White mist curled from their lips with every breath they exhaled into the frigid air.
Around them, Hogsmeade bustled with warmth and life despite the cold. The scent of fresh pastries, roasted meats, hot butterbeer, and sugared sweets drifted from nearby bakeries, taverns, and cafés while laughter and conversation spilled through open doorways. Honeydukes in particular remained crowded as ever, students packed tightly against the frosted windows while clutching paper bags overflowing with sweets and chocolate.
For James, the town was deeply familiar territory. He had spent countless weekends roaming its winding streets alongside Sirius, Remus, and Peter, whether visiting Dogweed and Deathcap for Herbology supplies, browsing joke items, or replacing damaged wands and accessories whenever one of their catastrophically stupid ideas inevitably exploded in someone's face. Hogsmeade possessed none of Diagon Alley's overwhelming grandeur or chaos, yet James had always preferred it for precisely that reason. There was something comforting about the town, something smaller and warmer that made it feel almost like an extension of Hogwarts itself.
His gaze drifted sideways toward Lily walking beside him. Immediately, heat crept back into his face despite the cold.
Sirius, Remus, and Peter had long since disappeared into the growing crowds after giving James varying levels of torment over the fact that he was spending the morning alone with Lily. Sirius in particular had nearly dislocated James' shoulder from how hard he slapped him on the back before leaving with an insufferably smug grin plastered across his face.
James groaned internally just remembering it. Truthfully, while he absolutely fancied Lily Evans, he was perfectly content simply spending time with her like this for now. No expectations. No grand gestures. Just walking together through Hogsmeade while snow drifted softly around them.
His attention shifted briefly toward the satchel hanging from Lily's shoulder, more specifically toward the old journal carefully tucked away inside it. Months had passed since he first discovered the strange book hidden deep within the Restricted Section, and what had begun as little more than an odd curiosity, some impossible fantasy he could scarcely believe, had gradually become something entirely different. Bigger. Stranger. Almost frighteningly real.
Honestly, if someone had told him at the start of the year that he and his mates would eventually form a bizarre little book club alongside their rivals, and the ghost of a girl dead for decades, James would have assumed they'd finally gone barking mad.
And yet here they were.
Standing in Hogsmeade with snow falling around them while preparing once more to dive headfirst into a world of ancient magic, political conspiracies, legendary heroes, and kingdoms so impossibly vast that even the most accomplished wizarding historians would probably faint trying to comprehend it all. James snorted softly to himself at the thought of Professor Binns suffering a second death from sheer excitement.
"Well," Lily said with a soft chuckle as they continued along the snow-covered street, "I suppose we can finally cross out the theory of the book exploding." She exhaled a cloud of mist into the winter air. "Turns out it really is just a book after all."
"So it would seem," James replied. "Honestly, Narcissa might be right. We could probably use Reducio, shove the thing into a sock, and bury it at the bottom of your trunk." He grinned sheepishly. "Nobody would ever suspect a thing."
Lily shot him an amused sideways glance.
"Is that how you and Sirius smuggle Slime Bombs from Zonko's into the castle despite Filch explicitly banning them?" she asked sweetly while folding her hands behind her back. "Giving away trade secrets to little old me?"
James nearly choked on his own breath.
"What? No!" he blurted at once, waving his hands frantically. "I mean, I never said we did that. We absolutely don't do that."
Lily rolled her eyes fondly.
"Honestly, James," she sighed, "you're almost as easy to tease as Godric."
James blinked before laughing under his breath.
"Am I really that obvious?" he asked while shoving his gloved hands back into his coat pockets. His expression softened afterward as his thoughts drifted back toward the journal. "Still, the strange thing is, the more we read it, the less it feels like fiction."
Lily glanced toward him but remained silent, letting him continue.
"Everything we've ever learned about the Founders," James said thoughtfully, "every book, every lecture, every bit of wizarding history always talks about what they accomplished." Snow crunched softly beneath their boots as they walked. "The legends. The wars. Hogwarts itself."
His expression dimmed slightly. "But none of it ever really tells us who they were."
Lily listened quietly beside him.
"Not as people," James continued. "Not as teenagers." He let out a faint laugh. "Honestly, reading about them now, they're all just kids. Brilliant ones, sure, but still reckless, stubborn, flawed, emotional."
He shook his head lightly. "And somehow that makes them feel more real than any history book ever managed."
Lily's smile faded into something more thoughtful.
"That doesn't really change how their story ends though," she said softly.
James' expression mirrored hers immediately.
"Blood hell," he muttered, "that's actually depressing when you stop and think about it." He glanced ahead toward the snow-covered rooftops of Hogsmeade. "History says Salazar Slytherin eventually turned against the others. Him and Godric even fought for control of Hogwarts."
His brow furrowed faintly.
"But the Salazar we've read about…" James trailed off. "He's manipulative, sure. Cunning as hell too. But he's a hero. He protects those who need protecting. Stands against those who mean others harm." He looked genuinely troubled now. "So, what happened? What changed?"
For a moment, only the sound of distant chatter and crunching snow filled the silence between them.
Then Lily finally spoke.
"My father once told me," she said quietly, "that eventually the rose-tinted glasses we use to see the world always come off." She adjusted the satchel strap resting against her shoulder. "We grow older. We start seeing the world as it truly is instead of how we wish it could be."
James listened carefully.
"I don't think people always choose to drift apart," Lily continued. "Sometimes life simply pulls them in different directions whether they want it to or not."
James was quiet for a long moment afterward.
"You really think history repeats itself like that?" he asked eventually. "Friends turning against one another?" His words lowered slightly. "Like Blaise, Serfence, even Workner." A faint unease crossed his face. "Maybe one day even we end up like that."
Lily fell silent for a moment before suddenly rolling her eyes.
"Well," she said firmly, "that sounds like an absolutely miserable thing to dwell on."
James blinked at her.
"The future's the future," Lily continued while nudging his shoulder lightly with her own. "We're here now, and I'd rather not spend my weekends spiraling into hypothetical tragedies before we've even finished school." She smiled faintly afterward. "That's how people end up completely mental."
James stared at her another second before laughing softly.
"Fair point," he admitted.
As James and Lily stepped into the wider clearing where several cobbled roads converged into a small square dusted in snow, James felt his pace slow almost instinctively, the unease arriving before he could even place a reason to it. His hazel eyes swept across the open space around them while the cold winter air suddenly felt heavier against his skin, because the square had gone unnaturally still.
There were no wandering students weaving between shops, no shopkeepers outside sweeping snow from their doorsteps, no laughter drifting from the taverns nearby. Even the storefronts themselves sat dark and shuttered. Blinds drawn tightly across their windows as though the entire street had collectively decided to look the other way.
Beside him, Lily seemed to feel it too, her expression tightening as she slowed alongside him.
"Well," she began uncertainly while adjusting the satchel hanging from her shoulder, "just one more turn and we should be at the Three—"
Her words died immediately as a figure stepped casually out from behind one of the snow-covered fir trees bordering the square. The man looked to be somewhere in his early thirties, broad through the shoulders and dressed in a black waistcoat stretched over a thick white shirt with rolled sleeves, a grey ascot tied loosely around his neck while dark slacks disappeared into worn boots crunching softly across the frost-covered stones. A bowler hat sat low atop his head, and a faded grey bandana concealed the lower half of his face, though the lazy swagger in his posture made it painfully obvious he found the entire situation amusing.
James raised an eyebrow despite himself. The man looked so absurdly stereotypical that it almost bordered on theatrical.
"Lovely day fer a walk, innit?" the man drawled while shoving his hands into his pockets. Though most of his face remained hidden, James could practically hear the grin beneath the bandana. "Bit bloody chilly fer me taste though."
Movement stirred elsewhere almost immediately after. Another man emerged from behind a nearby market stand while a second stepped out from the shadow of a stone wall bordering the square. James' expression hardened further as he turned his head slightly, only to find two more figures casually blocking the path behind them now, their heavy boots scraping softly across the cobblestones as Lily's hand instinctively tightened around the strap of her satchel.
Without thinking, James stepped in front of her.
His posture shifted subtly, shoulders squaring while his wand hand hovered near his coat pocket.
"Let me guess," he said flatly while eyeing the men carefully. "Ashwinders?"
The masked man suddenly clapped his hands together once in mock delight before turning toward one of his companions.
"Blimey," he laughed. "See that? Told ya we was gettin' famous already." He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Wish me mum could've lived long enough ter see how successful her little boy turned out."
He paused before shrugging lazily.
"Sadly, the old cow croaked years ago," he continued without the slightest trace of remorse. "Good riddance too, if yer ask me."
James' eyes narrowed further while the cold knot in his stomach tightened.
Right.
Definitely Ashwinders.
"See," the masked man said while taking another slow step forward across the snow-covered cobblestones, "we run this little town now, and visitors pay a toll." He gestured lazily with his wand between James and Lily. "That includes you Hogwarts brats too."
As he spoke, he slipped a wand from inside his waistcoat pocket in one smooth motion, the others around them following suit almost immediately as polished wood and glowing wand tips emerged from sleeves and coat linings alike.
James' expression darkened at once.
"So, do us a favor, poppet," the man continued while pointing his wand toward Lily's satchel. "Hand over the pretty little bag, nice and easy, and maybe we'll all walk away smilin'."
James' wand was already in his hand before the sentence had even finished.
"Not going to happen," he said coldly while stepping slightly further in front of Lily. "And if you lot know what's good for you, you'll turn around and bugger off while you still can." His gaze swept briefly across the others surrounding them before settling back onto the leader. "Before somebody gets hurt."
For a moment, silence hung over the square. Then every single one of them burst into laughter. The masked man nearly doubled over clutching at his stomach while one of the others actually stumbled backward wheezing into his sleeve.
"Oh, bloody hell," the leader laughed. "Did ya hear that?" He slapped one of the others on the arm. "Kid reckons he's gonna hurt us." He straightened afterward while wiping at his eye dramatically. "Cor, that nearly made me piss meself."
Beside James, Lily's expression hardened sharply as she drew her own wand from her coat sleeve.
"I'd listen to him if I were you," she said firmly. "Because the only way you're getting this." She tapped the satchel lightly against her hip, "Is if you pry it from our cold dead hands."
James immediately turned toward her with wide eyes.
"Bit early for declarations like that, don't you think?" he muttered under his breath.
The masked man's amusement vanished instantly.
"Oho," he said darkly while tilting his head. "Don't threaten us with a good time, poppet." His wand lifted higher, sapphire light beginning to glow faintly at its tip. "And don't think fer one bloody second we won't snuff the pair of ya just 'cause you're children."
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
"Now," the man continued, "I ain't askin' again. Drop everythin' you've got and maybe we'll let you limp away in one piece." His visible eye narrowed. "And before either of ya starts fancyin' your chances, there's five of us… and only two of you."
"Three."
The voice cut cleanly through the square.
Every head turned at once.
A lone figure emerged from the drifting snow and shadows beyond the square, black robes trailing softly behind him while a silver-and-emerald Slytherin scarf curled neatly around his neck. His complexion looked almost ghostly beneath the pale winter light, long black hair framing his sharp features while his wand already rested comfortably in his hand, dark polished wood nearly blending into the sleeve of his robes.
James blinked in surprise.
"Severus?"
Severus approached with slow, measured steps before stopping beside them, his dark eyes sweeping lazily across the gathered Ashwinders with the sort of disdain one might reserve for something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of a shoe. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You really cannot keep yourselves out of trouble, can you, Potter?" he drawled. "At this point, I'm beginning to suspect chaos follows you about like some deeply unfortunate family curse."
"I thought you said you were heading to the Three Broomsticks ahead of us," Lily said while lowering her wand only slightly.
"I was," Severus replied smoothly. "However, after further consideration, I realized sitting alone with both Blacks, Lupin and Pettigrew for any prolonged length of time would likely qualify as psychological torture." His lip curled faintly. "I therefore decided a walk through the snow would be considerably healthier for my sanity."
His gaze slid back toward the masked men. "And lo and behold," he sighed dramatically, "what do I stumble across but a collection of sewer rats attempting armed robbery."
One of the Ashwinders snarled beneath his mask. Severus looked them slowly up and down.
"Honestly," he continued with open disdain, "I understand appropriating the name, but the attire?" His nose wrinkled faintly. "The bandanas? The dreadful posturing?" He gestured lazily toward them with his wand. "You may consider it intimidating. I personally find it profoundly embarrassing."
The masked man's face twisted violently beneath the grey cloth wrapped around his mouth, his visible eye narrowing into something ugly and vicious as his grip tightened around his wand.
"You cocky little puff," he snarled.
Immediately, every wand in the square snapped upward.
James reacted on instinct, stepping forward with his own wand raised while Lily moved beside him, her expression hardening despite the tension visible in her shoulders. Beside them, Severus lifted his wand with unnerving calm, his posture relaxed in a way that somehow felt far more dangerous than panic ever could.
The snowfall drifting through the square suddenly seemed deathly quiet.
"When we're done with ya," the Ashwinder hissed while pointing his wand directly at Severus, "we're gonna string what's left of ya up in the middle o' town fer everyone ter see." His words sharpened with venom. "That's what happens when ya cross the Ashwinders."
Severus' smirk only widened. If anything, the threat seemed to amuse him.
"Now there's the spirit," he drawled, his dark eyes sharpening into something distinctly predatory beneath the falling snow. "Funny, I was just about to offer you the very same promise." He tilted his head slightly while regarding them with cold disdain. "I sincerely doubt either Hogwarts or the Ministry would mourn the tragic loss of a few witless little gangsters with suicidal tendencies."
"Severus, no," Lily snapped immediately while shooting him an irritated look. "Whatever horrifying thing you're currently contemplating, stop contemplating it."
"She's right," James added firmly without lowering his wand, his hazel eyes fixed squarely on the men surrounding them. "This isn't Avalon, and we aren't the Marauders from the journal." His expression hardened further. "We do this properly."
Severus released a long-suffering sigh as though they had both deeply inconvenienced him. "Yes, yes," he muttered. "Spoilsports."
Then his gaze settled back onto the Ashwinders, the faint amusement draining from his face entirely.
"So," he said smoothly while lifting his wand slightly, "how about you ill-bred troglodytes stop standing there gawking like stunned sheep?" A cold smirk curled across his lips once more. "You wanted the bag."
His eyes gleamed dangerously beneath the pale winter light. "Come and take it!"