Subterfuge
Lyra:
The return to Hogwarts was full of planning. The twins would have the surprising help of Percy for one of their pranks. The older brother, upon realizing how Lyra's plans could significantly benefit his studies, became more cooperative. More than that, he actually provided ideas on how Fred and George could maximize their results. He was, after all, someone who cared deeply about his grades and future — that, and he had spent the last few years learning the finer points of politics with great-grandfather Arthurus, a serious man in both body and soul. There was no chance he was as much of a rule-follower as he claimed.
Charlie was preparing all the materials for his ghost-handling trick. Bill, as Head Boy, was ready to cover for his younger siblings while they stirred up trouble, ensuring no one would get caught red-handed.
Dinner went on as usual, with the only peculiarity being the Weasley siblings spread out along the Gryffindor table instead of sitting close to each other. The twins occasionally glanced at Lyra, waiting for her cue to begin the show.
"Attention, students! A few announcements before we can finally enjoy this wonderful feast," Dumbledore called out. When the room quieted, he continued, "With the new resolution from the Hogwarts Board of Governors, it has been decided that some study on the workings of Curses should complement Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. To address this, we’ve decided to create an optional student club where those interested can study the mechanics of Dark Magic. Professor Snape will be in charge of teaching this subject, and I hope you all use what you learn in these lessons wisely. Remember, it is our choices that reveal who we truly are." He peered over his glasses at the students, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he stopped to look directly at Lyra. But it was quick enough not to draw much attention from the audience, which was already murmuring about the news. "You may eat."
The news was met with mixed reactions, ranging from rejection to acceptance and indifference. Slytherin was ecstatic, as not only would Dark Magic be taught at Hogwarts, but their Head of House would be leading the lessons, ensuring no ignorant ramblings about how Dark Magic was "evil" or other such nonsense. Ravenclaws were duly intrigued by the opportunity to explore a new subject. The Hufflepuffs were the most indifferent, willing to wait for the first lessons before forming opinions. Gryffindors had the most divided views, and Lyra noticed many students turning to Bill for explanations, as he had been the only one to defend the study of the Dark Arts months earlier.
"Who would’ve thought," Halie smiled at Lyra beside her. "What did your father say to the Council to achieve what the Slytherins couldn’t for decades?"
Lyra huffed. Her father had used people’s sentimentality and grief to remind them of their weaknesses. Maybe it was a cruel or insensitive strategy — one she was sure her father wouldn’t have used before Azkaban, judging by her memories of him. But what works, works.
"My father is a very clever man," she replied, omitting all the months she and her father had spent lamenting how the ban on any study of Dark Magic was hindering their efforts to deal with the Horcrux inside Harry. She was sure he had used many of the arguments they’d listed back then to convince the Council members. "That, and the fact that he isn’t a supporter of Voldemort helped win people over."
It wasn’t entirely accurate, but Lyra left it at that.
Lyra waited until dessert to tie her hair into a high bun.
Fred and George, who had been waiting for this all night, excited to see if their plan would work, immediately murmured a small wandless spell that, while weak, was enough to trigger what they’d prepared. Quickly, everyone’s skin in the hall took on a greenish hue, their hair turned bright orange, their eyes yellow, and their tongues blue. It was rather patriotic of them to have chosen Hogwarts’ colors.
The students’ outraged cries were tempered by the laughter of others, creating a cacophony that Lyra was happy to watch as she caught Charlie slipping away in the chaos out of the corner of her eye. She took the chance to flash a conspiratorial grin at Halie before grabbing a piece of pie with her hand and throwing it at Gris — Griselda Alderton, a member of the Muggle dueling classes Lyra taught, who had joined mostly out of curiosity. Gris was a highly competitive girl — Lyra didn’t even want to think about all the times she’d received a glare from Gris for answering a professor’s question. She wouldn’t take this lying down.
The result was predictably messy.
The food fight turned the Great Hall into a chaotic mess and made it impossible to see what was happening. The standardized colors made it difficult to distinguish one person from another.
No one would notice if one or two people disappeared.
Tonks:
She had seen Lyra throw the first piece of food at the Ravenclaw table, but she had already been suspicious of the looks the twins kept giving her cousin throughout dinner. She noticed how they suddenly perked up, and then, just moments later, everyone changed color without exception.
The noise that followed the ensuing food fight almost made her miss Charlie slipping away unnoticed.
Ever since her family had reconnected with the Blacks, Tonks had spent some time with her new cousin, who, apparently, had been the catalyst for many changes — at least according to her mother.
Her mother, however, still didn’t enjoy spending too much time at the family’s ancestral home, even after the renovations that had left the place unrecognizable. It was now comfortable, with a more modern and well-lit appearance compared to the gloomy museum it once was. Still, she said it reminded her too much of her childhood, especially when talking to Lyra, who seemed to share certain mannerisms with Bellatrix Lestrange. Her mother assured her the resemblance was likely just a matter of genetics since they were all family, so she allowed Tonks to continue visiting the house.
Despite her mother’s assurances, Tonks always kept a bit more distance from Lyra than she did from other members of the Black family or even from their frequent guests, like the Weasleys. Charlie, for instance, was her age, and she had never had a reason to talk to him before, given that he was in Gryffindor and she was in Hufflepuff. But their frequent meetings at the Black household gave them something in common. Their adventures in the forest and the lake became a regular occurrence, and they grew to be friends.
That’s why she noticed when her friend slipped out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a very suspicious scene that could only mean one thing: a setup.
“So, what are you up to?” she asked when she got close enough to whisper in his ear, taking a wicked pleasure in seeing him jump in surprise. The green skin and orange hair were hilarious.
“Tonks!” he hissed/yelped, his eyes wide and his hand on his chest like a scandalized old lady. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an expectant eyebrow.
“Uh...” Charlie looked at her, then around, biting his lip and continuing to glance around, clearly debating whether he could tell her. Tonks didn’t offer him any help, and he had better start talking, or she’d play a prank on him that would go down in history. Charlie rolled his eyes before seeming to come to the same conclusion.
“What’s your opinion on ghosts?” he asked.
“The House ghosts are fine, I guess,” she said, thinking of Gryffindor’s Nearly Headless Nick, Slytherin’s Bloody Baron, Ravenclaw’s Grey Lady, and Hufflepuff’s Fat Friar. None of them were particularly useful for anything beyond scaring first-years or spreading rumors, but they weren’t a nuisance either — unlike… “But Professor Binns is still clinging to life, and Peeves is always causing trouble.”
Charlie’s grin spread, slow and predatory.
“Hey, Tonks, want to be my accomplice?” he asked.
Fred:
"Are you sure this is the place?" he asked his brother in an urgent whisper. "We need to hurry."
"Yes, it has to be here. Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus both agreed Filch must still have it," George replied as he fiddled with the lock on the caretaker's "office." Fred could feel the anxiety building, along with a flicker of fear at the thought of being caught as one of the masterminds behind the prank in the Great Hall. Yet, there was also a strange thrill at the idea of being discovered, letting the entire school know it was him. That he and George had outwitted all the students and even the professors. His thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard the lock click.
"It's open."
It would have been easier to use magic, but the door had been enchanted to only open with the key. A key Filch kept around his neck at all times.
Inside the so-called "office," they were greeted by piles upon piles, drawers upon drawers of confiscated items, collected over decades since the caretaker had been hired. Some of the drawers were overflowing with random junk.
"This might take a bit longer than we were expecting," George muttered.
"Then we'd better get started," Fred decided, and perhaps he was a little too excited about the idea of being caught red-handed.
In perfect sync, the two brothers began rummaging through the drawers, one by one.