Automaton

  As the month progressed and they entered October's first weeks, Lynne and Harry started practicing offensive and defensive spells. Professor Quirrell's class was terrible and they looked for alternative ways to learn what they were supposed to. They came upon a book at the library that was used for Defense against the Dark Arts 10 years ago, a retired auror had introduced it as second year material but it was easy to master and more entertaining than to suffer Quirrell's stutter.

  They would regularly find empty classrooms to practice and spend their free time just going over shields, counter-curses and hexes. Harry was falling into the rhythm of keeping up with Lynne, who was utterly brilliant at everything so far, while also keeping his friendships with his classmates aflame, participating in the common room and even meeting up with Hermione to keep up with homework. Although he didn't have close friends in other houses, sharing almost all of his classes with Hufflepufs was pleasant. They were kind and friendly enough.

  Harry was currently panting trying to regain his breath after practicing defensive spells against Lynne. She was quite scary and fast, he was barely able to dodge sometimes, he also had to admit he was out of shape physically while she never seemed to run out of energy, he wondered if she would ever get tired during practice.

  "Give me a small break, Lynne."

  She broke her stance and pocketed her wand.

  "Of course, Harry."

  "Also… I wanted to ask you a few questions, they may be uncomfortable but I'm worried."

  She nodded and he started fidgeting with his hands and tried to gather his thoughts in order to ask away without being overly rude.

  "I've never seen you in your room, and neither did your roommates, you don't sleep do you? You don't eat either, no one has seen you grab a bite ever, but you are never tired. Some of the older students even call you a vampire. Are you…?"

  She looked at him for a few seconds, deciding what to answer.

  "I cannot answer these questions, Harry. All I can say is that you don't need to worry about me at all, I'm perfectly healthy."

  He stared at her in disbelief.

  "Are you- are you a type of creature?"

  "No. I'm not any kind of magical creature. And although Vampires do not require sleep, they get tired pretty easily, especially during the day."

  "Then how is it possible?"

  "I cannot say, you will have to figure it out."

  "Is it one of those secrets?"

  "Yes..."

  "What else can you tell me?"

  "My body is hardened and my limbs are all enhanced prosthetics. Magic moves them at will and I have access to a lot of magic in this castle so I won't have issues at all with movement."

  "That's amazing, I never thought something like that was possible, even in a world of magic."

  "Yes well… it seems it is time to get even more books if this surprises you, I'm sure I will be able to bury you in them soon."

  Harry giggled. "Yes, I guess with you, there isn't such a thing as too many books."

  "For the time being, don't worry too much about it, Harry. I'm fine."

  Harry let the matter rest for now, he wanted to investigate and learn more about Lynne, there were many things that she was not allowed to say it seems. It made sense, her guardian didn't want people to know the details, probably to protect her in some way, maybe that knowledge could be used against her. Would it be alright to investigate further then? Risk others also knowing?

  Your thoughts are deafening.

  Harry sighed and ruffled his hair, straightened and readied his wand. "Yeah, alright. Sorry, let's go again."

  Hermione was lost in thought while making her way to the library. It was Friday so she was going to use her free time for a quick study and research session. So many things were not going the way she was expecting, she thought that being in Gryffindor was going to be amazing and it turned out to be the opposite. Her own classmates and even the older students from different years were loud, obnoxious and she was finding it hard to bond with anyone in her own house.

  They were also bullies that would play pranks on Slytherins and they would often boast about how cruel they were, always thinking they were the good guys for having one-upped the evil snakes. She had gone to her head of house Professor McGonagall but she had dismissed her as just boys being boys and a few pranks not being that bad of a thing. Not being able to connect with her peers was slowly making her more anxious and stressed. She felt like she was back in primary school, outcast and alone.

  She was slowly making friends with the Ravenclaws that would meet at the library to study or just talk about things that were interesting to research so at least there was something to look up to, but it was also making her wish she could have been sorted in the house of ravens instead. They were competitive and sometimes a bit jealous of knowledge but that was fun and challenging instead of just being goofy and loud. She felt out of place in her house.

  Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, in particular, grated on her nerves more than she cared to admit. They were inseparable, always giggling over things Hermione found utterly pointless, like which perfume smells like fairy wings, which older boys were "sooo dreamy," and which shoes matches best with their weekend robes. She tried in the beginning to join their conversations, to find common ground, but every attempt was met with polite smiles that didn't reach their eyes, or worse, bored glances that made her feel invisible.

  They even snorted at her once when she offered to help them study as if the very idea of being near books was laughable. Parvati had this habit of acting shocked whenever Hermione didn't know some piece of wizarding pop culture, like she was supposed to have grown up reading Witch Weekly. It was exhausting to say the least. They weren't cruel exactly, but they made her feel like a dusty encyclopedia in a room full of glittering gossip magazines and pompous pictures.

  Sighing she let her thoughts return to normal and wondered which section of the library she could set her eyes on today. She knew that the study group was not going to be in there today, most of them agreed they needed a bit of a rest before the chaos that comes with exams started although they did promise to help revise and they included her as well. It was a nice feeling, being part of a group and maybe making more friends soon. She really wanted to have more classes with Ravenclaws.

  Most of her classes were with Slytherins, a decision that was stupid in her opinion, it was a hazard to be in there when both were trying to sabotage each other. She had stayed far away from trouble so far, but it was only a matter of time for someone to point at the "muggleborn know-it-all", and at this point she was thinking it could come from either side.

  With those worries in mind she walked into a weird situation happening in front of her, a few corridors away from the library three older Ravenclaw boys were cornering a blonde girl from their house as well. Their backs against Hermione, she was going to lower her head, pretend nothing was wrong and continue her way when she caught the glint from the shiny metallic arms she had learned to know this last couple of days.

  "You think you are so smart, freak, looking like that no wonder you are trying to make a name for yourself. No good wizard would take your hideous looking self."

  Lynne was being harassed by older students from her own house in front of her and Hermione looked like a deer in front of headlights. She couldn't move.

  "Not to mention you being so poor that you cannot afford a Skele-gro won't give you many options either."

  She flinched at the harsh cruel words that had so much bite on them, if those were directed at her she was sure she would be crying.

  "But we will take pity on you of course, after all we are not like the rest, I'm sure you can satisfy us all the same." continued another one of them.

  "You already look like a toy after all, right?"

  Their laughs are malicious and mockingly mean. On the other hand, Lynne looked calmed and composed, her gaze calculating and focused on them. Hermione knew from Harry that Lynne was good with her magic, and that this could escalate to a full blown confrontation. Gathering some of that Gryffindor courage she pulled her wand out but no spell came to her mind. One of the older boys leaned closer.

  "We are talking to you, pile of screws!"

  He tried to grab her hair but she moved quickly and grabbed his hand instead, and squeezed hard. A loud cracking noise followed by the scream of the older boy filled the hallway and froze the other two. Standing there doing nothing was clearly not the best decision as Lynne quickly spinned and kicked one after the other in quick succession and they went flying against the wall. With a loud thump noise they fell and proceeded to whine clutching their stomachs.

  Lynne, still holding the hand of the screaming boy, spoke for the first time, her voice devoid of emotion and rough as always.

  "If you lay a hand again on me or any other first or second year, I will crush your balls instead. Am I clear?"

  "Aahhh, please let go, it hurts so much!"

  She squeezed more, making him squeal in panic, his body shaking.

  "I didn't hear you say it was clear."

  "It's clear! Ack! It's clear! I'm sorry! Please let go!" He said in between sobs.

  "Good. Remember, I will know if you are being a bother again."

  She finally let go of him, the older student crying now on the floor, grabbing his hand in pain, his fingers bent in weird shapes. To Hermione, it looked so painful she had to avert her gaze. She looked up and saw that now Lynne was watching her, and on her hands now lay her wand making the Gryffindor flinch in fear. Hermione knew she should have intervened at least to help her in some way, so that they knew they weren't alone, but she was not brave enough and now Lynne looked ready to hex her for it.

  Instead of pointing her wand at her, she bent down beside the sobbing teen and pointed her wand at him. Hermione was scared but the blonde muttered a spell which began fixing the boy's hand in a grotesque and nosy way, his bones mended with a loud snap at which he whelped and sobbed again.

  "Go to the hospital wing. And take them as well with you." She ordered while looking at the two still lying on the floor groaning.

  Slowly the older Ravenclaw got up, helped his friends up as well and they started walking away wincing in pain.

  "Hermione."

  Her voice made Hermione jump startled.

  "I-I'm sorry, Lynne." She was breathing fast and trying to suppress a sob "I didn't know what to do."

  In that moment more students and professor Flitwick came running, probably following the screaming that happened earlier.

  "What happened here?! I demand explanations!" said the squeaky voice of the half-goblin, looking at the wounded trio of students.

  "They were playing around and got hurt dueling professor. I just happened to be here and I healed his injured hand, but they were heading to the hospital wing to take a look at their wounds."

  The professor looked skeptical but the older students just nodded along.

  "Well, dueling in the hallways is dangerous, but seeing as you seemed to have learned your lesson I won't give you detentions, 20 points from Ravenclaw. Don't attempt that again boys."

  The other students dispersed at that and a few helped the trio walk away. Hermione was biting her lips, resisting the urge to not rattle on what really happened. Lynne seemed to understand and moved closer to her. To say Hermione was scared of her now was an understatement. Flitwick, noticing her nervousness, turned towards them.

  "We will be heading to the library now, professor." said Lynne.

  The small professor looked suspiciously at her but said nothing, the sudden silence made Hermione hold her breath. Lynne didn't seem to have a problem as she started walking normally, completely ignoring the piercing stare. She didn't want to be left behind so she quickly followed without looking back and hiding her face through her many curls.

  When they turned the corner Lynne was gone as if banishing on thin air.

  Two weeks later, she decided to tell Harry about what happened, it took her a while to gather her Gryffindor courage, she knew she needed to get it off her chest eventually but she was scared that he wouldn't believe her.

  Hermione cornered him after lunch, just outside the library. Her arms were folded tightly, and she looked more determined than usual.

  "Harry, can I talk to you?"

  He nodded, sensing her urgency. They found a quiet alcove beneath a tall stained glass window, just out of earshot from the others.

  "It's about Lynne," she said. "I know she's your friend and this may sound bad coming from me, but there is something you should know."

  Harry frowned. "Alright. What is it?"

  Hermione hesitated, then said in a low voice, "Did you hear about what happened to those Ravenclaw boys? The ones that were punished for dueling in the hallways?"

  He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, a few people said they hexed each other and ended up in the hospital wing. I didn't hear the full story."

  "I did," Hermione said, her voice tight. "I saw it. They were mocking her about her arms, calling her names, blocking her way, humiliating her. She didn't yell or argue. But as soon as they came close to her, she was merciless. I can still hear the scream at times… it was traumatizing."

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Harry listened silently. So she continued.

  "With two powerful kicks she sent two of them flying! It made no sense, there was no spell, just her kick. Then she grabbed the hand of the one closer to her… I could hear the bones break, Harry. He was crying. Begging. She didn't stop."

  Harry's stomach turned while Hermione retold the events.

  "Then she fixed it. With a spell I've never seen. The hand twisted and snapped back together like it was being stitched by invisible wire. It was... it was awful and it looked painful, and she looked calm the whole time and there was no anger and no fear and, and… just coldness."

  She was breathing hard now anxiously.

  He swallowed. "Why did they lie about it?"

  "She guided the conversation, frightened them into agreeing with her that it was in a duel."

  Harry could feel that she was scared of her, and if it was true what she did, it was reasonable. But Lynne had been nothing but fair to him, he could always just ask her about it later on, she couldn't lie after all.

  "Well, if they were bothering her in the first place, it sounds like they learned their lesson."

  "I… I know, I just think it was unnecessarily cruel." Hermione whispered. "I also think... I think you need to be careful, I wouldn't want to be close to her if she ever gets angry considering this was her being calm."

  He gave a small nod. "I think she could explain this herself, she has always been reasonable. I'll talk to her."

  Hermione stepped back, hesitant.

  "Don't worry, I won't tell her you told me."

  She looked relieved at that, then nodded and walked off toward her common room. Harry remained, staring at the floor, caught between admiration, and something colder. He hated bullies and they would find no sympathy from him.

  He briefly wondered how to approach his friend and figured out that the best would be to just directly ask her.

  Later that evening, Harry caught up with Lynne in the common room. She sat alone by the window, the fading light of sunset casting golden lines across her face as she scribbled notes into a small leather-bound book. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside her.

  "Lynne? Can I ask you something?"

  "You technically already did."

  She didn't look up. He smiled faintly.

  "Right. Another question then. About those boys from earlier this month. The Ravenclaws who ended up in the hospital wing. Did they bother you again?"

  Lynne paused. Her quill stopped moving, hovering above the page.

  "No. I'm surprised they talked about it."

  He wasn't going to betray his word so he said nothing about Hermione.

  "They were mocking you, right? About your arms."

  "Words that I don't mind."

  Lynne still didn't look at him. Harry shrugged.

  "I did what I did because no one should touch someone else if they are not ready for a fight." she continued.

  "They chose the wrong person to try to fight."

  Harry nodded.

  "They were bullies. I don't like bullies. I've lived with them most of my life. You stood up for yourself. Maybe not how I would've done it, but you didn't start it."

  She finally turned to him. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was quieter than usual.

  "I gave them a warning. They ignored it."

  He nodded slowly. "I figured as much. I'm not mad. I just wanted to hear it from you."

  She nodded back and they sat in silence after that, watching through the windows as the last light faded behind the distant hills.

  The following weeks Harry kept up with the top students of his year, the exams were not here yet, but there were a few assignments already graded which mattered still. Not many were keeping tally but he was the top point scorer as well, he was proud and although he would sometimes clash with Hermione due to her very competitive nature, Lynne would encourage him all the time.

  He knew he wasn't at her level yet but at this point he was sure no one was and always wondered why. He thought that it made little sense attending classes if you already knew everything there was to learn, she wasn't being arrogant about it and that made him feel at ease with her enough not to ask her about it.

  Malfoy had been an ass a few times to her, rumor spread that she probably had little money to her name even if she was a pureblood, something about a potion that should have been used to regrow her arms. Classes with Slytherins were few and they had little to no interaction. Harry wished he would stop parroting about everything his dad said so that they could be friends.

  Halloween brought a strange energy to the castle. Floating pumpkins and glowing candles lit the halls with a festive charm, and the Great Hall had been transformed into a spectacle of orange, gold, and violet lights. Harry had never seen so much food in one place. He sat between Lynne and Marcus, laughing at a joke Terry Boot had made about Peeves charming all the Hufflepuffs' shoes to scream.

  Still, something was eating at him. Hermione had been absent from the Great Hall. She wasn't in their study group that afternoon either. Harry had heard from Padma that she'd run off to the girls' bathroom after an argument with Ron Weasley, but nobody seemed too concerned. Lynne had glanced in that direction briefly, but said nothing. She was staring at the enchanted ceiling, unreadable as ever.

  "You're thinking too loud, again." Lynne muttered, breaking his thoughts.

  He blinked. "I'm just worried about Hermione. She looked really upset earlier. I'm not sure she even left the bathroom yet."

  "She is in the castle. She is safe."

  That should have been comforting but it really wasn't. In that exact moment, Professor Quirrell burst through the double doors of the Great Hall, pale and trembling.

  "TROLL! T-troll! In the d-dungeons! Thought you ought to know!"

  He fainted and panic followed. Students screamed, prefects tried to herd their houses, and Dumbledore shouted for order. Professors bolted from the hall. The Ravenclaws were being escorted to their tower, but Harry hung back.

  He turned to Lynne. "She's not in the Great Hall. Hermione. She's alone, she was crying in the bathroom!" Lynne did not move, her eyes were sharp now. Cold. Calculating.

  "Lynne." pleaded Harry.

  "Then we must move. Quietly. Follow me."

  She took his hand and pulled him along, avoiding the crowds. Somehow she knew the best path to take, one that kept them out of sight of their prefects. Her steps were silent. Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest, but Lynne's grip was steady.

  As they neared the corridor by the girls' lavatory, the stench hit them first. The troll was massive, gray, misshapen, with a club nearly as large as the hallway itself. It lumbered forward, ducking to enter the girl's bathroom. For a second they both held their breaths until a scream echoed from behind the bathroom door.

  Harry moved, but Lynne was faster, in a blur, the door exploded open with a flick of her hand and she entered as well. Harry quickly followed behind her. Hermione was cornered, clutching a broken sink pipe looking terrified.

  "Get down!" Lynne ordered. Her broken voice was steel.

  Hermione dropped. The troll turned, bellowed, curious at the new broken sound of Lynne's voice. His club hit a few stalls as he turned, sending shards and splinters all over.

  After a few seconds, the troll decided he didn't like blondes much and he attacked. Lynne stepped forward just as it swung. The club came crashing down. She raised her left arm in defense and the metal limb met the wood with a sickening crack. Dust exploded from the impact, and the floor trembled but Lynne didn't move an inch. Her arm, however, had fractured with a loud crack.

  Harry gasped as Lynne moved with precision. Her wand was already in her hand as she ducked under the troll's legs.

  "Harry! Distract it!"

  Startled, Harry waved his wand wildly. His mind went into overdrive over which spells to use, what he could do to actually bother a troll. He briefly considered throwing something at him but his few months of training paid off as he remembered the most advanced spell he managed to pull off recently.

  "L-Lumos Maxima!"

  A flash of light exploded in the troll's face. It roared and staggered back, swinging blindly, his club too big to actually traverse much, wood hitting stone. Lynne moved just in time to avoid being stepped on by the now confused, angry and blind troll. It stopped for a second trying to regain his view and that was all Lynne needed. Stepping in front of it again she aimed carefully.

  "Confringo!"

  The explosion was deafening as the spell struck the troll right in his face. A blast of raw force and fire erupted, sending shards of stone and bone flying. The creature reeled, its death instant, its massive frame collapsing backward with a crash that shook the floor. Smoke curled from its still form as blood began to pool on the floor.

  Silence fell between the pair while Hermione sobbed softly, still laying down on her knees. Harry ran to her, helping her up.

  "Are you okay?"

  She nodded mutely, then stared at Lynne, who was clutching her arm that lay limp now, unmoving. Cracks ran down the prosthetic like veins of lightning. A few of the metal shards were scattered through the floor.

  "You're hurt," Hermione whispered.

  "It's okay, it doesn't hurt. I just hope it will mend."

  Footsteps echoed. Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell arrived, wands raised. Their eyes took in the fallen troll, the shattered floor, and the three first years.

  "What is the meaning of this?!" McGonagall shrieked.

  Hermione stepped forward shaking. "It's my fault, Professor. I was upset and came here alone. Harry and Lynne came to find me. They saved me."

  Snape narrowed his eyes. His gaze lingered on Lynne longer than necessary. Quirrell looked pale. Paler than usual.

  McGonagall sighed. "Miss Volant you are hurt… Severus, please take her to the hospital Wing. Five points from Gryffindor for wandering off. But... ten points each to Mr. Potter and Miss Volant, for sheer dumb luck."

  "Take care of this Quirinus, please." she continued.

  "R-right. W-what a m-mess." he commented back.

  As they were about to be escorted back, Harry glanced at Lynne.

  "Thank you, I didn't want you to get hurt."

  She didn't answer. But in his pocket, the watch clicked.

  Someone set this up, a troll is too dumb to enter on his own. We need to be careful.

  As he watched her being led by professor Snape he noticed he was limping, clearly he had been hurt as well. He felt a growing sense of anxiety and dread.

  Harry couldn't sleep that night and neither did Hermione.

  She sat curled up in her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. The image of Lynne standing between her and the troll was burned into her memory.

  She had risked her life. For her. She remembered the sound of that metal arm shattering under the troll's club. The way Lynne didn't even flinch. No scream, no fear. But that spell…

  That wasn't something they were supposed to know. It wasn't a first-year spell, she had read ahead up to third-year and it was still not there. It was dangerous, violent, and lethal. Lynne had cast it like it was second nature. What kind of person could destroy something so big, so alive, without blinking?

  Hermione had thanked her, of course. Walking beside Harry in silence as they escorted her back to Gryffindor's Common Room, she told herself everything was fine. But the truth was, she didn't know how to feel.

  Gratitude. Fear. Awe. She owed Lynne her life but she was terrified of her, and she was reminded of what happened a few weeks back. What if she had used the spell against her bullies? She shivered trying to put that thought back from where it came.

  Deep in thought she came to realize she felt conflicted, for the first time since she came to Hogwarts she was sure that Harry and Lynne were her friends, they came to save her, despite the risk, and were already worried for her in the first place.

  All those feelings of sadness, not fitting in, wanting to leave everything behind were slowly being replaced. And although she was pretty scared of Lynne, she would remember her heroes.

  The hospital wing was quiet. Dumbledore stood just outside, going over his head about what just happened. He peeked into the room where the golden-haired first year was being treated by Madam Pomfrey.

  She lay on the far bed, her prosthetic arm extended over her chest as the healer examined it. The limb had partially cracked along the seams, the embedded runes faintly flickering. There were some holes here and there, shards that had fallen off from the impact.

  "This isn't standard prosthetic magic," Pomfrey muttered. "It almost feels biological… Doesn't it hurt?"

  "No, I don't feel pain on them. They are quite numb. Will it heal?"

  The matron blinked. "It's repairing itself. They must have some runes for how it's working but I've never seen anything like it. Maybe professor Babbling can help you later on with more information on them. But you, how do you feel, Miss Volant?"

  "Functional."

  Pomfrey pursed her lips. "That's not what I asked."

  Before she could press further, he made his presence known.

  "If I may, Poppy," said Dumbledore as he entered. The matron sighed, nodded, and gave Lynne a sharp glance.

  "She's under observation, but if you think a conversation won't shatter her remaining arm, I'll leave you to it."

  When the doors closed, Dumbledore pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down. His expression was calm, thoughtful.

  "Miss Volant," he began gently. "Tonight was... eventful."

  Lynne said nothing.

  "You acted bravely," he continued. "And with great precision. I daresay few students could have done the same."

  Still, she was silent. He watched her for a long moment. Then his eyes, ancient and piercing, met hers.

  "Will you not answer?" he said softly. "I just would like to understand you better."

  Lynne felt the pressure before she saw it, an invisible tendril of magic trying to slide into her thoughts. She blinked slowly. And pushed it out. She had been trained on this but she was not expecting an intrusion on her mind from the headmaster of the school. With the same quiet ease she used to walk unnoticed through a corridor, she gently nudged him out. Dumbledore's brow lifted slightly.

  "Curious," he murmured.

  Still, she gave no reply.

  "You knew how to cast the blasting curse." he said, changing tack. "That is not a spell taught in first-year lessons."

  "I've learned it, by myself." Lynne replied simply.

  He gave a small smile. "So I gathered. May I ask you something, Miss Volant?"

  She inclined her head.

  "You had incredible courage when facing the troll for your friends. But I can't help but wonder if you could have done something better. Miss Granger seemed quite distressed. Do you feel any remorse? For killing the troll the way you did?"

  Her answer came without hesitation.

  "No."

  Dumbledore studied her face closely, but found nothing to read.

  "Why not?"

  "It was a threat. It endangered a student. I stopped it."

  He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands again.

  "A student? I see."

  There was no further condemnation. Only silence, and the weight of judgment that didn't need to be spoken aloud. She hadn't said friend, just a student. Odd, no one would risk their lives for just any student.

  He stood. "We shall speak again, I'm sure."

  When he was about to leave Lynne exhaled softly. Her injured arm flickered once, then began to glow faintly as the runes realigned. The pieces were already moving.

  In the headmaster's office, tension ran high. Dumbledore sat at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin. McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick stood in a half-circle around him.

  "A first-year using the blasting curse," Snape said coldly. "That alone is enough to raise questions."

  "And Potter cast Lumos Maxima," McGonagall added. "That is advanced for a first-level charmwork."

  "They should not be capable of it." Flitwick said with worry. "It takes more than knowledge, it takes control."

  "She's been teaching him, I am sure. She's... unnatural. There is something more to her than what she appears." Snape murmured.

  Dumbledore remained quiet, the flicker of firelight reflecting in his half-moon spectacles.

  "They did save Miss Granger," he said slowly. "That won't be ignored."

  He stood at last, moving to the window. "Miss Volant is an enigma. She was wary of me… or maybe it's with everyone, but during our conversation she mostly remained silent."

  "Maybe she is in shock?" Flitwick argumented.

  "I also asked Miss Granger for her version of events."

  McGonagall folded her arms. "What did you learn, Albus?"

  "Very little." Dumbledore replied. "But I did ask Miss Volant how she felt, but she said nothing. The only thing she answered troubled me a bit, I asked if she felt any remorse for the creature."

  Silence followed.

  "And?" Snape asked.

  Dumbledore turned, his voice quiet. "She answered truthfully. She feels no regret for killing the troll."

  Flitwick looked disturbed. "None at all?"

  "None. She was calm and composed."

  McGonagall's frown deepened. "She protected Miss Granger, I don't believe anyone would feel remorse for protecting a friend, especially if it was an out of control creature."

  "Yes." Dumbledore said softly. "She protected her without hesitation, I'm uncertain if she considers Granger her friend but it was enough to act. On the other hand… She took a life without pause, without weight and that could mean something else, either she is trained, or experienced."

  "Do you think she's dangerous? Should we be concerned for our students?" Flitwick asked.

  "I think she's purposeful." Dumbledore replied. "And in that, there is danger."

  He returned to his chair, hands folding again.

  "We should watch her closely. And be wary." No one argued.

  "Stay Severus, the rest of you can return to your duties."

  With a few glances between them they sighed. As the small professor and Deputy Headmistress left the office Dumbledore turned to his trusted spy.

  "Her intentions are not certain yet."

  Snape raised an eyebrow. "You tried Legilimency on her."

  Dumbledore gave a soft nod. That was something else that worried him deeply as well. He couldn't gain access to any thought or feeling, even having caught her by surprise.

  "She deflected me. Not aggressively, subtly. Deliberately. I do not think she is unaware of what she is."

  Snape's expression tightened. "Then she is hiding something."

  "What about the other matter? How is your leg?"

  "Whoever set the troll loose, I'm sure it was a distraction to access the third floor corridor. But they fled before I arrived, the door was unlocked and the beast was agitated. We are now sure it can stop whoever tries to enter."

  Dumbledore noticed he ignored his second question but that was good enough for now.

  "Go treat your injury, let me know if you need anything."

  "Headmaster." With a slow nod he made a limping exit.

  Harry lay in bed that night, wide awake. The curtains were drawn around him, soft and heavy, muffling the occasional rustle from Anthony Goldstein across the room. His thoughts raced too fast for sleep.

  He thought of Hermione's trembling hands. He thought of Lynne's eyes full of focus and determination, no hesitation in them at all. How often he'd dreamed of being powerful enough to make such a stand for himself, he thought of Dudley and his gang cornering him in alleyways. Of being shoved, taunted and not being able to fight back.

  Lynne hadn't dreamed. She'd acted and she didn't flinch. He admired that, and he was glad he made friends with her. But more than anything, he understood it. Still, part of him wondered what else she might be capable of and why. He rolled onto his side, staring into the dark.

  But even as questions swirled in his mind, one thing sat heavier than the rest: she had protected him. Protected Hermione. More than once. Lynne never doubted herself. She never let fear stop her.

  Harry didn't know why she was like that, but he knew he wanted to be like that too. Strong enough to protect his friends. Brave enough to stand up, no matter what.

  He thought about the spells she had used. The books she was always reading. The way she made time for him even when she didn't speak much made him realize that maybe he couldn't catch up to her now, but he could try and he was sure she would help, even encourage him.

  He made a silent promise to himself. He would learn everything he could. About magic. About the world, on how to be strong. Someday, Lynne might need someone to protect her too and he wanted to be ready.

  But a small, twisting feeling tugged at his chest. She had gotten hurt. Because of him. He asked her to come with him to find Hermione. He wasn't strong or quick enough to help her in time. She had to yell at him first before he reacted.

  She never complained. Never blamed him and even praised him for distracting it so quickly. But that didn't make it sit any easier in his stomach. He clenched the blankets tightly in his fists. He wouldn't let that happen again.