The Reckless Ice Queen's Legacy

The steady rhythm of the train filled the compartment, the gentle sway of the carriages a familiar comfort. Hyacinth and Regulus sat alone, the window fogging slightly from the cold as snow-covered fields blurred past.

Regulus had been reading for the past half-hour, his posture relaxed but his focus sharp. Hyacinth was quiet, her fingers idly tracing the hem of her sleeve.

She wasn’t tense, exactly. But she wasn’t at ease either. Regulus glanced up. “You’re quiet.”

Hyacinth exhaled softly. “You always say that.”

Regulus smirked slightly. “Because it’s always true.”

Before she could respond, the compartment door slid open.

“Well, well. Fancy seeing you two here.”

Hyacinth looked up just as Sirius stepped in, looking far too pleased with himself. James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew hovered just outside the door, their expressions ranging from amused to wary. Regulus lowered his book slightly, his grip tightening over the spine.

Hyacinth arched a brow. “Did you get lost?”

Sirius grinned. “Just looking for a place to sit. Lucky me.”

Regulus’s jaw tensed. “Most of the train is empty.”

Remus cleared his throat, eyeing the tension carefully. “Should we…?”

Peter, already eyeing the stack of sweets beside Hyacinth, grinned. “Oh, I think we’re staying.”

James took the open seat beside Sirius, looking far too pleased with himself.

The air between the brothers was thick, but it wasn’t sharp like it had been before Christmas. It wasn’t angry. It was just… uncertain.

Hyacinth tapped her nails against the armrest. “Are you here to disrupt my peace, or is there another reason for this intrusion?”

Sirius placed a hand on his chest, mock-offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”

Hyacinth stared at him. Flatly.

James, sensing the tension, leaned back with an easy grin. “You should be honored, really. Most people would kill to share a compartment with us.”

Hyacinth snorted. “Yes, I’m sure it’s a dream come true.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then unexpectedly, Remus chuckled.

Hyacinth turned toward him, slightly surprised. He was usually the quietest of them all.

Sirius sighed dramatically before flopping onto the seat beside Hyacinth, stretching his legs out.

Hyacinth frowned. “You’re in my space.”

Sirius smirked. “You’ll live.”

James plopped down beside him, grinning. “This is already the best train ride ever.”

Regulus said nothing. His fingers tightened slightly over his book, but he did not leave. Peter hesitated before sitting next to James. Remus remained standing, eyeing the tension carefully before finally sighing and taking the last available seat.

For a moment, the compartment was quiet.

“So,” Sirius drawled, throwing an arm over the back of his seat, “did we all have a miserable holiday, or just me?”

Regulus shot him a glare. Hyacinth huffed. James and Peter exchanged amused glances.

Remus, without looking up from the book he had pulled out, muttered, “Merlin, it’s going to be a long train ride.”

The tension remained, but it had softened, just slightly.

Sirius had chosen to sit here.

-

The library was blissfully quiet, just the way Hyacinth liked it. The scent of aged parchment and ink lingered in the air, and the only sounds were the scratch of quills against parchment and the occasional rustle of a turning page.

She was seated at her usual table, quill in hand, Arithmancy textbook open in front of her. Regulus had already retreated to the common room, leaving her alone to finish her work.

For once, she had peace.

A familiar thud landed across from her. Hyacinth didn’t bother looking up. “Go away, Sirius.”

Sirius Black, who had just dramatically thrown himself into the seat opposite her, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Now, is that any way to greet your dear cousin?”

Hyacinth dipped her quill in ink. “If my dear cousin had any sense of self-preservation, he wouldn’t be here.”

Sirius smirked, utterly undeterred. “What are you working on?”

“Arithmancy.”

He visibly recoiled. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be an idiot.” Before Sirius could fire back, two more figures slid into the seats beside him. James Potter, looking far too smug for Hyacinth’s liking, plopped a book down onto the table, not even bothering to open it.

Peter Pettigrew, already pulling out parchment, grinned. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

Hyacinth slowly set down her quill. “Are you multiplying?”

James grinned. “What can I say? You have a magnetic presence.”

Hyacinth exhaled sharply, turning to Sirius. “If you brought the whole lot of them here just to irritate me–”

Before she could finish, the seat beside her shifted again.

Remus Lupin. Unlike the others, he actually had a book with him. Hyacinth blinked. Remus didn’t usually entertain their nonsense.

Sirius nudged him. “Moony, tell Cinthie she should be honored.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book. “I think she’d rather hex you.”

Peter cackled. James smirked. Hyacinth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why are you all here?”

James leaned back lazily. “Well, we were in the common room, but Sirius said, and I quote–‘Let’s go torment Hyacinth.’”

Hyacinth glared at Sirius.

Sirius grinned unapologetically. She turned to Remus. “And you?”

Remus flipped a page. “I actually came here to study.”

Hyacinth eyed him, then James, then Sirius, then Peter, who was already inking his quill. With a slow, resigned exhale, she picked up her quill and returned to her work. Sirius pouted. “That’s it? No threats?”

Hyacinth didn’t look up. “I’m prioritizing my energy. You’re simply not worth it.”

James let out a low whistle. “Brutal.”

For the next few minutes, the library settled into something that almost resembled normalcy.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, tapping his quill against the table. James, half-heartedly flipping through a Transfiguration book, kept throwing glances at Hyacinth, smirking whenever she caught him.

Remus actually studied, and Hyacinth found, to her surprise, that she didn’t entirely mind the company.

-

The golden morning light filtered through the high-arched windows of the Transfiguration classroom, casting long shadows across the rows of desks. Professor McGonagall stood at the front, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students as they settled in. Hyacinth took her usual seat near the front, inking her quill, ready to jot down anything McGonagall would say. She was already halfway through reviewing last lesson’s notes when a familiar thud landed in the seat beside her.

She didn’t have to look to know who it was, she could feel his magic pulsating off of him. “You again?” she muttered. James Potter grinned, elbow propped on the desk, chin resting lazily in his palm. “I missed you too, Black.”

Sirius plopped into the seat behind them, clearly delighted. “Yes, we just can’t get enough of you, Cinthie.”

McGonagall rapped her wand against the desk, commanding instant silence.

“Today,” she began, eyeing them all carefully, “we will be focusing on practical application.”

She waved her wand, and a row of small inanimate objects appeared on each desk.“The first half of this lesson will be spent transfiguring these items into living creatures. The more complex the creature, the more impressive the execution.”

McGonagall’s gaze flickered over the class before landing on James. “Mr. Potter, let’s see if you can refrain from dramatics and focus on technique today.”

James grinned. “I’ll do my best, Professor.”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. She turned to her desk, focusing on the small porcelain teacup in front of her.

With a steady flick of her wand, she whispered the incantation and conjured a whisper of blue sparks, the teacup trembling before smoothly shifting into a perfectly formed porcelain raven. It cawed, wings fluttering elegantly.

She smirked. Simple.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she saw James’s teacup immediately transform into a large, golden-feathered hawk.

Hyacinth’s smirk vanished.

The hawk stretched its wings, the shift seamless, effortless, immaculate.

McGonagall paused in her steps. For a long moment, she studied James with an unreadable expression.

Then, finally, she nodded. “Excellent, Mr. Potter.”

James grinned, basking in the praise. Hyacinth’s grip tightened on her wand. She wasn’t used to being second. James leaned slightly toward her. “Not bad, Black.”

Hyacinth didn’t look at him. “Likewise.”

Sirius, behind them, clearly enjoying himself, propped his feet on the empty chair beside him. “I don’t know, James. I think Cinthie’s bird was prettier.”

Peter snorted. Remus, who had been half-listening while working on his own spell, merely shook his head.

James chuckled, tilting his head toward Hyacinth. “You know, if you ever need pointers…”

Hyacinth turned to him, smiling sweetly. “I’ll let you know. Right after you beat me in Arithmancy.”

James winced.

The class continued, but Hyacinth couldn’t shake the thought lingering in her mind. James Potter was better at Transfiguration than she had expected. When class was over, Hyacinth decided to meet up with Regulus to take a walk around the grounds. the snow was large lumps around the courtyard, and the cold remained sharp, biting at the edges of their cloaks as they walked along the stone pathway toward the castle.

They weren’t speaking, they didn’t need to. The quiet between them was comfortable, an unspoken understanding built over years of shared glances and silent observations.

Sharp, angry laughter interrupted their silence.

Hyacinth’s gaze flickered to the left, toward a small group of older Slytherins gathered beneath one of the stone archways.

She didn’t slow her steps.

But she saw.

A younger Ravenclaw boy, a second-year, Muggle-born stood frozen between them, clutching his books tightly.

Hyacinth didn’t catch the words exchanged, but she didn’t need to. The sharp amusement in their voices, the smirks, the way the boy’s knuckles whitened against the cover of his textbook, she had seen it before.

Regulus had, too.

She could feel his posture shift slightly beside her, a subtle stiffness to his stride.

Neither of them stopped.

Neither of them said a word.

By the time they reached the castle doors, the laughter had faded behind them. Regulus exhaled quietly.

Hyacinth didn’t comment. But later that evening, as she sat in the library, her quill hovering over parchment, she found she couldn’t quite focus because this time, it had been easy to ignore, and  she had a feeling that soon, it wouldn’t be.

The library was nearly empty, the usual chatter reduced to the quiet scratch of quills and the faint rustling of turning pages. Hyacinth sat alone at her usual table, her notes spread neatly across the polished surface, her focus narrowing on the single Charms problem she couldn’t quite solve.

She wasn’t used to struggling with theory.

And yet, here she was.

A chair across from her scraped against the floor.

She sighed, not looking up. “Go away, Sirius.”

A different voice answered.

“Relax, I’m not here to bother you.”

Hyacinth’s gaze flicked up in mild surprise. Peter Pettigrew. She mumbled a quick apology.

He wasn’t looking at her, his attention was already on his parchment, quill tapping absently as he flipped through his textbook.

Hyacinth watched him for a moment, then returned to her work.

For a while, there was only silence.

Then, Peter muttered something under his breath. Hyacinth didn’t catch it at first, but when she glanced up, she saw his eyes scanning her parchment.

She frowned.

Peter tapped his quill against the desk once. “Flitwick’s notes on non-verbal magic don’t make much sense, do they?”

Hyacinth blinked. That was… an understatement.

Peter continued as if he was thinking aloud. “It’s not about the spell, it’s about intent. Stronger wizards get it faster because they rely on willpower instead of incantation.”

Hyacinth stilled, processing his words. She glanced down at her notes, then back at him. He still wasn’t looking at her.

For the first time, she wondered if Peter was more observant than he let on.

She didn’t comment.

Neither did he.

But later, when Flitwick posed a question about the lesson in class, Hyacinth knew the answer immediately.

-

The streets of Hogsmeade were bustling with students, the scent of warm butterbeer lingering in the air as they moved between shops, their laughter curling in the winter cold. Despite it being late January, there were still heaps of snow scattered around the town.

Hyacinth and Regulus walked at an unhurried pace, the ease of familiarity settling between them.

“I think Pandora’s going to drive me mad,” Regulus muttered, tucking his hands into his cloak pockets.

Hyacinth arched a brow. “Pandora Malfoy?”

Hyacinth had seen Pandora at the many balls held at Malfoy Manor. She was tall and had pale blonde hair, she was very pretty Hyacinth thought. She had sort of a whimsical glow to her. 

Regulus sighed. “Yes.”

“What did she do?”

“She keeps talking about the strangest things,” he muttered. “Last week, she asked me if I thought Hogwarts had ghosts that haven’t been discovered yet.”

Hyacinth hummed, half-amused. “That’s not entirely ridiculous.”

Regulus gave her a flat look. “Hyacinth.”

Hyacinth smirked. “What?”

“She told me she was trying to communicate with the suits of armor in the third-floor corridor.”

Hyacinth let out a short laugh.

Regulus exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She’s…” He hesitated, then sighed again. “She’s odd.”

Hyacinth tilted her head slightly. “But you like her.”

Regulus scoffed. “She’s tolerable.”

Hyacinth smirked, but before she could respond, Regulus suddenly stopped walking. Hyacinth followed his gaze, her amusement fading. Near the alley beside the Three Broomsticks, a familiar figure stood cloaked in black, deep in conversation.

Bellatrix.

And she wasn’t alone.

She was speaking to a man, his face hidden beneath a heavy hood. Hyacinth felt the shift immediately. Without a word, they stepped toward the cover of a side street, keeping their distance but positioning themselves just close enough to hear. Bellatrix’s voice carried over the wind, sharp and clipped, “It’s happening sooner than we thought.”

The hooded figure murmured something in response, too low to catch. Bellatrix exhaled impatiently. “No! He doesn’t need to know yet. There are others to be dealt with first.”

Hyacinth felt Regulus tense beside her. The hooded man murmured something else. Bellatrix scoffed. "The Dark Lord is already watching. He sees everything."

Hyacinth’s stomach twisted. She had no idea what Bellatrix was talking about.

But Regulus did.

She could tell that he was standing too still, his breathing too even, like he was trying not to react. For the first time, Hyacinth wasn’t sure what to say. Bellatrix’s conversation ended abruptly. She turned, striding toward the end of the alleyway. Hyacinth grabbed Regulus’s sleeve. "We should go."

Regulus didn’t move.

Hyacinth frowned. "Reg."

His jaw was tight. "You don’t understand."

Something cold slid down her spine.

"You do," she stated.

Regulus’s fingers curled into a fist.

“Regulus,” Hyacinth pressed, softer this time. “What do you know?”

He finally looked at her, and she couldn’t read him. She didn’t like it.

Hyacinth opened her mouth to say push him more, but then she saw him.

At the entrance of the apothecary across the street, a familiar mess of unruly hair and golden-rimmed glasses came into view.

James Potter. He stepped outside, immediately tucking a small bag into his cloak. Hyacinth froze.

Regulus followed her gaze, his tension momentarily replaced by confusion.

“What’s he doing here?”

Hyacinth didn’t answer. Instead, they watched. James adjusted his cloak, glancing up and down the street as if checking for something.

His movements were too careful, too deliberate. Hyacinth narrowed her eyes.

James had never been subtle, but this was different.

Finally, he turned his head—

And his gaze landed on them. For a brief second, his expression flickered with something unreadable. Then an easy grin slipped on his face, he stepped forward. “Well, if it isn’t the dearest Hyacinth and her cousin,” he said smoothly. “Didn’t realize this was a family outing.”

Regulus’s demeanor immediately soured. Hyacinth, however, was still focused on the bag tucked inside James’s cloak.

“What are you up to, Potter?” she asked casually. James blinked, feigning innocence. “Shopping.”

Hyacinth raised a brow. “Since when do you shop for potion ingredients?”

James tilted his head, grinning. “Since when do you care?”

Hyacinth didn’t answer because she wasn’t sure why she cared.

But she did.

Regulus, already annoyed, scoffed. “Why are you talking to us?”

James smirked. “Aw, Reggie, don’t be like that.”

Regulus’s eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”

James turned back to Hyacinth. "You look like you have a theory."

Hyacinth studied him. “I do.”

James leaned forward slightly as if waiting for her to say more.

She didn’t. His grin widened. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep you guessing.”

Regulus muttered something about wanting to hex him. Hyacinth rolled her eyes. "Enjoy your shopping, Potter."

James winked. “Always do.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the street.

Regulus shook his head. “He's so annoying.”

Hyacinth hummed in agreement.

The streets of Hogsmeade were quieter now, the earlier crowds thinning as students finished their shopping. The last traces of daylight lingered on the rooftops, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

Hyacinth and Regulus walked without urgency, the tension from their earlier encounter with Bellatrix still lingering between them.

Neither of them spoke about it.

Instead, Regulus gestured vaguely to a shop window. “You know, Pandora asked me if I believed in the Room of Requirement.”

Hyacinth, caught off guard, glanced at him. “Did she?”

Regulus nodded, eyeing a display of expensive ink sets in Scrivenshaft’s window. “She says she’s read about it before. Some old reference texts claim it’s real, but it moves and only appears when it’s needed.”

Hyacinth hummed. "Sounds like a like folktale."

Regulus shrugged. "So are ghosts, but we have hundreds of them."

She glanced at him, half amused. “So? Do you believe her?”

Regulus considered the question for a moment. Then, quietly, he said, “I think if anyone could find it, it would be her.”

Hyacinth didn’t comment, but she made a mental note of that. They continued walking, the snow crunching softly beneath their boots. Regulus, with his sweet tooth, led them toward Honeydukes. Hyacinth sighed knowingly. “Getting chocolate for Pandora, then?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. "And myself."

Hyacinth smirked. “Right. Yourself.”

Regulus gave her a flat look before stepping inside. The warmth of the shop greeted them instantly, the scent of cocoa and peppermint thick in the air. Hyacinth trailed behind as Regulus wordlessly selected a few chocolate bars, his expression too casual. She let him have that. After they left Honeydukes, they took the long way back toward the carriages.

The walk was peaceful, familiar.

They neared the castle gates, The cold air still clung to Hyacinth’s cloak as she walked alongside Regulus, the castle looming ahead as the last traces of daylight faded.

Regulus, still deep in thought, continued his earlier conversation from Hogsmeade.

“I’m telling you, Pandora is either a genius or completely mad,” he muttered, adjusting his gloves.

Hyacinth huffed a small laugh. “Can’t she be both?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s been on your mind all day?”

Hyacinth exhaled slowly, glancing up at the darkening sky.

“…I don’t know,” she admitted.

Regulus studied her carefully. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he sighed. “I don’t know either.”

Hyacinth gave him a small smirk. "That’s a first."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Their footsteps grew softer against the snow.

Suddenly, a snowball whizzed past Hyacinth’s ear. She stopped walking. Regulus frowned. “Did you–?”

Hyacinth turned slowly, expression darkening. Another snowball hit him directly in the shoulder. A few meters away, James Potter stood smugly, wand still raised. Beside him, Sirius was already packing another snowball. Remus, standing a few paces behind them, looked vaguely resigned. Peter cheered from the sidelines. Hyacinth narrowed her eyes. “Potter.”

James’s devilish grin greeted her. "Black."

Sirius threw his snowball without hesitation, hitting Regulus directly in the chest.

Regulus stumbled slightly, blinking. There was a long, terrible silence. Then, Regulus calmly brushed the snow from his cloak, turned slightly away from them. 

And suddenly, a floating snowball flung straight into James’s face.

James staggered back, sputtering as snow slid down his collar. Sirius stared. “Did you– did Regulus Black just start a snowball fight?”

Regulus raised a brow, smirking. “I don’t believe I was the one who started it.”

Snowballs flew from every direction, some enchanted, some thrown by hand. Sirius and Regulus immediately turned on each other, years of sibling rivalry manifesting in pure onslaught. Hyacinth, seeing her chance, sent a perfectly aimed snowball at James.

James dodged at the last second. “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be?” he grinned, grabbing a handful of snow.

“Try me, Potter.”

Remus, initially attempting to stay uninvolved, was dragged in when Sirius tackled him. Peter, despite having done nothing to provoke anyone, still ended up buried in the snow. By the time they finally collapsed in exhaustion, breathless and freezing, the moon had started appearing in the sky. Hyacinth sat with her legs in spread out in front her, her fingers numb but her mind oddly clear.

Regulus, beside her, exhaled. “That was stupid.”

Hyacinth smirked. “And yet, you participated.”

Regulus closed his eyes. “I hate all of you.”

James nudged Hyacinth’s boot with his own. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Hyacinth hummed. She wouldn’t admit it.

But for once, she didn’t mind being pulled into their ridiculous chaos.

-

A few weeks later

The cold dampness of the Potions dungeon settled over the classroom, the faint bubbling of cauldrons filling the air. Hyacinth sat at her usual station, her ingredients meticulously arranged before her, each knife precisely set beside measured vials. Across from her, Lily Evans was doing the same.

Slughorn beamed at the class, clapping his hands together. “Ah, an exciting lesson today! We will be brewing the Invigoration Draught, a challenging but most rewarding potion. When brewed correctly, it will enhance magical stamina and sharpen the mind.” He paused, rocking back on his heels. “This will require both precision and intuition, two of the most important skills for a potion maker.”

His eyes twinkled as they landed on Hyacinth and Lily. “I do believe this shall be quite the lesson.”

The air between them shifted. Slughorn smiled warmly. “The first to successfully complete their draught will earn twenty-five points for their House!”

Hyacinth barely heard the rest because Lily had already reached for her ingredients, and Hyacinth wasn’t far behind. Their hands moved in tandem, grinding, slicing, measuring all without hesitation. Hyacinth was methodical, each action deliberate, each motion practiced. She worked with precision, following the text exactly, her movements calculated. Lily, however, was quicker.

She didn’t follow the textbook perfectly. She adjusted measurements instinctively, shifting steps with a confidence that wasn’t hesitant but bold.

Hyacinth took note of it.

Severus, seated beside Lily, tilted his head slightly. “You’re stirring too fast.”

Lily didn’t look at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

Hyacinth’s stirring slowed just a fraction. The words were sharp. The tension between them wasn’t obvious, not at first, but it was there. Hyacinth caught the way Lily’s shoulders tensed, the way Severus leaned in slightly, speaking just low enough for her to hear.

“You should lower your flame,” Severus murmured.

Lily kept stirring.

She didn’t acknowledge him.

She didn’t adjust the flame.

Steam curled from the edges of her cauldron. She added the next set of crushed valerian root, stirring clockwise three times, then counterclockwise once.

Lily did the same.

Hyacinth smirked.

Then, Lily adjusted the flame beneath her cauldron.

A small risk, barely noticeable.

Hyacinth kept hers steady. Minutes passed, the bubbling of potions rising as the room filled with the heady scent of brewing ingredients. From somewhere behind her, a loud hissing sound. James Potter and Sirius Black’s workstation was a mess. James’s cauldron was billowing steam at an alarming rate, while Sirius was poking at his potion with his wand, watching as it thickened into something resembling tar.

Peter had wisely taken a step back. “That looks… unstable.”

James scowled at his potion. “We might’ve miscalculated something.”

“You don’t say,” Sirius muttered, stirring without enthusiasm.

Hyacinth exhaled sharply through her nose. They had probably forgotten to add the stabilizing ingredient, moonstone powder. 

Without looking up from her own cauldron, she flicked her wand, James’s textbook,  which both Marauders had been sharing, flipped open to the correction they needed.

James hesitated.

Sirius frowned. "Did you–?"

James glanced toward Hyacinth, catching the way she remained focused on her own work, her wand still resting delicately between her fingers.

A slow grin spread across his face.

Sirius nudged him. “Oi, don’t encourage her.”

James leaned slightly toward Hyacinth. “Thanks, Black.”

Hyacinth stirred once. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

James let out a low chuckle, returning to his potion with renewed focus. The final moments arrived. Lily’s potion turned deep blue first.

But Hyacinth’s was flawless.

The exact shade of midnight blue described in their textbook. Slughorn clapped his hands together,“Miss Black! Excellent! A textbook-perfect Invigoration Draught! I will definitely be inviting you to my Slug Club party next year!”

Lily’s potion was very, very close.

But Hyacinth had finished just a fraction ahead. A smidge better.

Lily exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “Not bad,” she admitted.

Hyacinth smirked. “Likewise.”

Severus, watching with sharp eyes, scoffed. “Lily, you should’ve listened to me.”

Lily’s jaw tightened slightly. “I was fine without your help, Snape.”

Severus huffed. “Barely.”

Hyacinth glanced between them. The tension was thicker now.

She didn’t comment.

From the back of the room, James, who had been watching intently, nudged Sirius.

“See? Told you they were terrifying.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, yeah.”

Slughorn awarded twenty-five points to Slytherin.

Lily adjusted her gloves, giving Hyacinth a look. “Next time, I’ll win.”

Hyacinth smirked. “We’ll see.”

The lingering scent of brewed ingredients still clung to Hyacinth’s robes as she left the Potions classroom, the quiet murmur of students trailing behind her as they filed out into the corridors.

She adjusted the strap of her bag, fingers absentmindedly brushing over the edge of her parchment. The competition with Lily still buzzed at the back of her mind, she had won, but just barely.

Next time, she’d widen the gap.

Regulus had probably already made it to the Great Hall for dinner, not particularly interested in waiting for her, but Hyacinth wasn’t in a rush. The corridors were still crowded, students streaming toward the scent of dinner already drifting through the air.

She turned down a quieter passageway, intending to head to the library before her next class.

And that’s when she saw them.

Sirius. James. Remus. Peter.

They had stopped at a deserted stretch of hallway, speaking in low voices, their backs turned toward the main corridor.

She didn’t slow her pace, but she took note.

Sirius was speaking quickly, hands moving animatedly. James was nodding, his usual careless grin replaced with something far more serious.

Peter shifted on his feet, muttering something Hyacinth couldn’t quite hear.

And Remus–

Remus looked… tired.

More than usual.

Hyacinth had noticed it before, the exhaustion that lined his features, the way he always seemed slightly off around certain times of the month. But she had never given it much thought.

She passed by them without stopping, but not without looking.

Something was happening.

Something they didn’t want anyone else to know. A few steps ahead, she heard James chuckle lightly, as if trying to break the tension.

“Don’t worry, Moony. We’ll have it figured out soon.”

Moony?

Hyacinth didn’t react. She didn’t pause. She simply kept walking.

But as she turned the corner, her mind lingered. James Potter wasn’t exactly subtle.

And neither, apparently, were his friends.

-

The emerald glow of the Slytherin common room cast flickering shadows against the stone walls, reflecting off the polished marble floors. The fire burned steadily, but the warmth it provided did nothing to ease the growing tension between Hyacinth and Regulus.

Regulus sat across from her, his hands folded neatly in his lap. He looked calm, composed—too composed.

Hyacinth could tell he was thinking. Deeply. "You haven't been yourself," she finally said, watching him carefully.

Regulus exhaled, shifting his gaze toward the fire. "Neither have you."

Hyacinth frowned. "I haven't started whispering in dark corners about things I refuse to explain."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but his shoulders tensed slightly. "You make it sound so dramatic."

Hyacinth leaned forward. "Isn't it?"

Regulus was silent. Then, after a long moment, he spoke. "The world is changing, Hyacinth."

She exhaled sharply. "I know."

Regulus turned his head, his silver eyes sharp. "Do you?"

Hyacinth’s frown deepened. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Regulus tapped his fingers against the armrest, gaze steady. "I hear things, Cinthie. I hear things you don’t."

Hyacinth's stomach tightened. She already knew where this was going. "What kind of things?" she asked carefully.

Regulus hesitated. "Plans."

Hyacinth felt a prickle of unease and annoyance. Regulus was being so dramatic. 

"Plans for what?"

Regulus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For what comes next. For when people finally realize that Muggles don’t deserve to control everything while we, wizards, are forced to live in secrecy."

Hyacinth scoffed. "You think Muggles control everything?"

Regulus didn’t laugh.

"They build their cities, they run their governments, they stamp their rules over every part of the world," he said evenly. "Meanwhile, we, the powerful ones, the ones with actual magic have to hide like cowards. Why should we be the ones in the shadows?"

Hyacinth studied him.

She had always believed in blood superiority. Wizards were smarter, stronger, capable of things Muggles could never dream of. It was a simple fact. "Muggles are idiots," she admitted. "They’re slow, unimaginative, and frankly, they’re annoying."

Regulus watched her closely. "But that doesn’t mean they need to be eradicated, Regulus."

Regulus’s brow furrowed slightly. "That’s not what I’m saying."

Hyacinth tilted her head. "Then what are you saying?"

Regulus looked at the fire, his fingers gripping the fabric of his robes."I’m saying they don’t belong in our world."

Hyacinth exhaled through her nose, forcing herself to stay calm. She was beginning to realize what he was trying to get at,"Muggle-borns are wizards, Reg. Magic runs through their veins just like ours."

Regulus shook his head. "Magic found them, but they weren’t born with it the way we were. It wasn’t supposed to be in them."

Hyacinth felt her stomach twist. "You actually believe that?"

Regulus didn’t look away. "Don’t you?"

She hesitated. "I think," she said carefully, "that Muggle-borns are ignorant."

Regulus blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.

"They don’t understand our world when they arrive," she continued. "They don’t know tradition. They don’t know etiquette. Because no one teaches them. Dumbledore certainly doesn’t."

Regulus exhaled, almost relieved. "Then you agree with me."

Hyacinth shook her head. "No. Because the difference is, I think they could learn. I think they should be taught."

Regulus scoffed. "And how many do? How many of them actually respect what we are?"

Hyacinth hesitated.

Regulus’s voice dropped lower.

"We’re the only ones who still follow the old ways, Cinthie," he said, almost bitterly. "Dumbledore and his kind–  they’re forcing Muggle traditions into wizarding society, pushing their ways into our world. And the more we let them, the more we lose what makes us powerful."

Hyacinth frowned.

She had never thought about it like that.

Not in those exact terms.

But it made sense. Didn’t it?

Still, something about the way Regulus was speaking unsettled her. She leaned forward. "Who have you been talking to?"

Regulus’s jaw tightened."You already know."

Hyacinth felt her pulse quicken. "Bellatrix."

Regulus hesitated. "And others."

Hyacinth exhaled, staring at him. "Regulus, you need to be careful—"

"I’m not a child anymore, Hyacinth."

The words were quiet but sharp.

Hyacinth stopped breathing for a second, Regulus ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. "I can’t be. Not with the plans I’ve been hearing."

Hyacinth’s stomach dropped. "What are these plans you keep talking about?"

Regulus didn’t answer.

Hyacinth’s hands clenched, her temper testing her, "Regulus, what plans?"

Regulus closed his eyes briefly, then exhaled. "The kind you can’t ignore."

Hyacinth felt a rush of worry coil in her chest. Regulus leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. "You should be careful, too."

Hyacinth arched a brow. "Of what?"

Regulus tilted his head slightly. "You spend too much time with people who will never understand us."

Hyacinth smirked, but there was no humor in it. "And you spend too much time with people who never question anything."

Regulus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe."

But neither of them changed the subject.

And neither of them walked away.

But for the first time in their lives, Hyacinth wasn’t sure if they were standing on the same side anymore.

And that terrified her. She needed some air.

The castle was quiet at this hour, the corridors dimly lit by flickering torches, casting uneven shadows along the stone walls. The usual hum of student chatter had long faded, leaving only the distant sound of the wind rattling against the high windows.

Hyacinth wasn’t sure why she had left the Slytherin common room.

Maybe it was the lingering unease from her conversation with Regulus, the way his words had settled uncomfortably in her chest, too heavy, too real. Or maybe she had just needed air. Either way, she found herself at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, her hands curled around the cold stone railing, staring out over the moonlit grounds. The footsteps behind her were soft, but she heard them anyway.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

She didn’t turn. His honey-like voice registered in her brain.

"Potter," she said, voice even. James leaned against the railing beside her, arms crossed, not looking at her, but at the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest in the distance. His usual grin was absent, his expression calm, contemplative. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

"You’re thinking too loud," James muttered. Hyacinth exhaled softly. "That’s a ridiculous thing to say."

James tilted his head toward her, smirking just slightly. "Is it?"

Hyacinth didn’t answer. She kept her gaze trained on the night sky, her fingers absently tracing the frost-lined stone beneath them. James wasn’t leaving, and strangely, she didn’t want him to. He didn’t fill the silence with meaningless words, didn’t pry or push. That, more than anything, caught her off guard.

"You usually talk too much," she murmured.

James let out a quiet chuckle. “I know.”

A pause.

"Want to tell me what’s bothering you?"

Hyacinth's grip on the railing tightened slightly.

For a brief second, she considered it.

Consider telling him about Regulus. About the things she was hearing. About the creeping sense of inevitability that was pressing down on her, about the choices she wasn’t sure she’d be allowed to make.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she turned toward him, tilting her head slightly. "You assume something’s wrong," she said smoothly.

James studied her for a moment."You assume I assume," he countered, tone light but gaze steady.

Hyacinth exhaled, shaking her head. "Infuriating."

James grinned. “I do try.”

They stood in silence for a little while longer, the night air crisp against their skin. For a few moments, the silence hung around them like a warm blanket. The crescent moon sat high in the sky, the moonlight was comforting to Hyacinth.

James pushed off the railing,"You coming back?" he asked casually, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Hyacinth hesitated, and with a quiet sigh, she stepped away from the edge.

James fell into stride beside her as they walked back down the tower steps.

-

The Great Hall was buzzing with morning conversation, the low hum of students discussing assignments, Quidditch matches, and weekend plans filling the space. The golden morning light spilled in from the enchanted ceiling, casting a soft glow over the long wooden tables.

Hyacinth sat beside Regulus, her plate untouched as she poured herself a cup of tea. The warmth seeped through the porcelain, comforting against the early-morning chill. Regulus, halfway through a piece of toast, was absently flipping through an Advanced Potions textbook, silver eyes skimming the page with an almost bored expression.

“You’re going to get crumbs in the spine,” Hyacinth muttered, stirring a touch of honey into her tea.

Regulus huffed, barely glancing at her. “It’s already ruined. I heard Snape spilled an entire vial of wormwood extract on it last week.”

Hyacinth smirked. “And you let him?”

Regulus set his book down with a sigh. “What was I supposed to do? I’m not in your class and I heard he looked like he was about to hex himself trying to fix it.”

Hyacinth bit back a chuckle. “Whoever owns the book should start charging him for damages.”

Regulus snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll add it to my list of concerns. Right next to Pandora asking me whether I think bowtruckles can communicate with each other through trees.”

Hyacinth lifted her teacup to her lips. “Well? Can they?”

Regulus turned, expression flat. “Don’t start.”

Hyacinth let out a quiet laugh, the warmth of their familiar banter settling between them. The morning mail arrived in a flurry of wings, owls swooping gracefully between the tables, parchment dropping onto plates, splashing into goblets, and causing general mayhem.

Hyacinth didn’t bother to look up.

It wasn’t until a single, black-sealed envelope landed beside her plate that her fingers stilled against the handle of her teacup.

She recognized the wax seal instantly.

Regulus did, too.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Then, slowly, he set his goblet down, glancing at her. “You’re not going to open it?”

Hyacinth turned the envelope over in her hands, running her thumb along the edge. The Black family’s stationary was always expensive with thick parchment, the ink bold, the strokes of the handwriting perfectly slanted.

She knew what it was. She knew who it was from, but set it down beside her plate, untouched.

“I already know what it says,” she said lightly, reaching for her tea instead.

Regulus studied her carefully, but he didn’t press.

Instead, he turned back to his book, flipping the page as if nothing had happened.

But Hyacinth could tell, he was still watching.

Across the hall, at the Gryffindor table, James Potter was laughing at something Sirius had said, his grin sharp and easy, completely unaware of the way Hyacinth clenched her jaw, inexplicably irritated by his effortless existence.

She tapped her fingers against the envelope once, then slid it into her bag.

-

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom buzzed with activity, the sharp hum of magic in the air as students practiced their spells. Professor Galbraith moved between pairs, observing with sharp eyes, correcting techniques, and occasionally stepping in when a spell went too wide.

Hyacinth rolled her shoulders, adjusting her grip on her wand.

Professor Galbraith clasped her hands together. "Today, we will be refining our control over the Ventus charm. This is not a spell about brute force…it is about precision, focus, and balance."

Hyacinth smirked slightly. She had no doubts about her control.

"Pair up," the professor continued, "and we’ll begin."

Hyacinth barely had time to turn before James Potter slid into the space beside her, wand already twirling between his fingers.

"Looks like you’re stuck with me, Black," he said, grinning.

Hyacinth arched a brow. "Debatable."

"Precision, not brute force," Galbraith reminded, sweeping a critical gaze across the room. “A proper Ventus should be strong enough to disarm your opponent’s stance, but not send them flying across the room. Understood, Mr. Avery?”

Avery, who had launched his unfortunate partner backward into a bookshelf last class, grinned sheepishly.

James's attention whipped back to her. he tapped his wand against his shoulder, a smirk deepening. "You wound me. And here I thought you’d be excited."

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. Across the room, Sirius paired up with Peter, while Remus was already instructing Marlene McKinnon– who was ignoring every bit of advice he gave.

From their side of the room, Sirius called out, "Oi, Cinthie, I need you to absolutely flatten James."

Hyacinth smirked, turning slightly. "Oh?"

Sirius nodded solemnly. “For my personal amusement.”

Peter, grinning, added, "And to remind James he’s not actually the best at everything."

Remus, barely looking up from blocking Marlene’s latest failed spell, sighed. “He needs humbling. Regularly.”

James clutched his chest dramatically while he shouted back at Sirius, "I see. A conspiracy against your dearest friend. I see how it is you three!."

Hyacinth tilted her head slightly, smirking. "I do enjoy a challenge."

James’s grin widened. "Oh, darling, so do I."

Hyacinth ignored the way her pulse kicked up at the word "darling."

Professor Galbraith clapped her hands. "Begin."

James moved first. A flick of his wrist, a smooth incantation, and a controlled Ventus charm shot toward her, not too forceful, just testing her balance. Hyacinth countered effortlessly, dispersing the wind as though it were nothing.

James’s smirk widened. She struck back, sharp and precise. James dodged just in time, his robe whipping slightly from the force.“Oh, that was good,” he admitted, grinning.

“Scared, Potter?”

James twirled his wand between his fingers lazily. “You wish."

They moved faster now, their spells countering each other perfectly. Hyacinth was sharper, cleaner in her execution. James, however, was instinctive. Unpredictable. She sent another Ventus, just enough to throw him off, he slipped slightly, his footing wavering.

Hyacinth smirked. "Are you getting tired, Potter?"

James laughed, a little breathless now. “How could I be? I’m dueling you.”

She aimed her next spell carefully, preparing to knock him back another step, and then, suddenly, he shifted.

Not in spellwork. Physically.

James was taller, broader, and stronger. The days on the quidditch pitch definitely sculpted him. And when his next Ventus connected, he used a little too much force. Hyacinth barely had time to react before her feet left the ground.

She landed hard, flat on her arse.

A brief moment of silence.

Laughter.

Not from the class, no; everyone else was still focused on their own work.

The laughter came from James, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Oh," he grinned, "That was satisfying.” A few beats later, “Are you alright?"

Hyacinth glared. "I’m going to hex you."

James crouched slightly, offering his hand. "Go on, then."

Hyacinth hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. His fingers were calloused from Quidditch, his grip strong, steady.

She could ignore it or she could take it. She placed her hand in his.

James pulled her up effortlessly, but for a moment he didn’t let go. His thumb brushed lightly against her wrist before she quickly stepped back. They held each other’s gaze for a fraction too long. From across the room, Sirius groaned loudly, "James, I swear to Merlin, if you get even more unbearable about this—"

James laughed, finally releasing her hand. "It’s not my fault I have better form, Sirius!"

Hyacinth brushed off her robes, scowling. "It’s not form, it’s the fact that you’re built like every other bloody Quidditch player."

James grinned, the words already going to his head, "Ah. My tragic advantage."

Hyacinth scoffed, crossing her arms. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts, Potter."

James winked. "Oh, I always do."

Professor Galbraith, arms folded, eyed James pointedly. "Next time, Mr. Potter, control yourself."

James winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right. Of course."

"You're impossible," Hyacinth muttered.

James smirked. "And yet, here you are."

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, turning away, but not before James saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

-

The Slytherin common room was quiet, save for the soft crackling of the emerald flames in the fireplace. The dim lighting cast long shadows along the stone walls, the occasional flicker catching the silver accents on the furniture. Hyacinth sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, a book resting open in her lap. Across from her, Regulus was sprawled in an armchair, one ankle resting over his knee, his Potions textbook balanced against his thigh.

For once, there was no tension, no weight pressing between them.

Just a quiet moment.

Regulus let out a low sigh, rubbing his temple. “If I have to listen to Slughorn ramble about the properties of asphodel one more time, I might actually lose my mind.”

Hyacinth smirked, flipping a page in her book. "You could always drop Potions."

Regulus gave her a flat look. "You and I both know that’s not an option."

Hyacinth hummed, amused. "No, but it’s fun to imagine you disappointing your Father like that."

Regulus snorted. “Right. And then getting disowned before I even turn fifteen.”

Hyacinth smirked. “You’d be in good company.”

Regulus shook his head, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Silence settled between them again, the warmth of the fire making the quiet feel more comfortable than stifling.  After a moment, Regulus shifted. "Pandora told me the moon is affecting my mood."

Hyacinth blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Regulus sighed heavily, as if reliving the memory pained him. "She told me that people born under certain celestial alignments feel emotions more strongly when the moon is at its peak."

Hyacinth stared at him. "And what did you say?"

Regulus leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes briefly. "I told her that was nonsense."

Hyacinth huffed a quiet laugh. "And?"

Regulus cracked one eye open. "She looked at me like I needed to be enlightened."

Hyacinth smirked. "Maybe you do."

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. A few minutes passed, the only sound the gentle turning of pages. "How was Defense today?" Regulus asked, his voice casual. Hyacinth flipped another page, her expression placid. "It was fine."

Regulus raised a brow. "Fine?"

Hyacinth didn’t look up. "Yes, fine."

Regulus tilted his head. “Sirius mentioned something about you getting thrown on your arse.”

Hyacinth’s grip on her book tightened slightly.“I landed perfectly well, thank you,” she muttered.

Regulus smirked. "Did you, though?"

Hyacinth finally glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. "If you value your life, I’d tread carefully, Regulus."

Regulus chuckled. “Right, right. But let me guess, you lost to Potter?”

Hyacinth’s scowl deepened. “I didn’t lose.”

Regulus leaned back, arms crossed. “Mmm, sure.”

Hyacinth clicked her tongue. "He cheated."

Regulus smirked. “How so?”

Hyacinth sat up slightly, annoyance creeping into her voice. "He used too much force. It wasn’t skill that won, it was gravity."

Regulus watched her for a moment. Then, far too amused, he said, “You sound upset.”

Hyacinth scoffed. "I’m not upset."

Regulus grinned. "You’re upset."

Hyacinth shut her book with a little too much force.

Regulus laughed, shaking his head. “This is delightful.”

Hyacinth glared. "One day, I’m going to knock him flat on his back."

Regulus smirked. “And when you do, let me know. I’ll want a front-row seat.”

Hyacinth exhaled sharply but allowed herself a small smirk. For a while they bask in the calm of the moment. The fire in the Slytherin common room was burning low, casting long shadows along the emerald-tinged stone walls. Most of the younger students had already gone to bed, leaving only a few scattered groups murmuring over books or playing casual rounds of wizard’s chess.

Then, Regulus went on another tangent about the "increasing dilution of proper wizarding instruction," sighed, shaking his head. "It’s getting worse. Pandora told me she heard some Muggle-born talking about making wands out of plastic."

Hyacinth blinked. "Plastic? What is that?"

Regulus’s expression was pure disbelief. "I don’t even know what that is, but I’m offended on principle."

Hyacinth laughed, lifting her cup to her lips. "Maybe they were just joking, I mean who would do that?"

"That’s what I thought," Regulus muttered. "But it is Hogwarts."

Before Hyacinth could respond, the common room door swung open, revealing Professor Slughorn. His rosy cheeks were flushed, and he adjusted his cloak as he glanced around. "Ah! There you are, Miss Black! Just the student I was looking for!"

Hyacinth blinked, straightening slightly. "Professor?"

Slughorn’s gaze shifted, landing on Severus, who sat near the other fireplace with an open book in his lap. "And Mr. Snape! How fortunate exactly the pair I need!"

Regulus glanced between them, clearly curious. Slughorn smiled warmly, stepping closer. "I require a bit of assistance with a… delicate matter. A retrieval task, of sorts. I wouldn’t normally trouble students, but given that you two are the most accomplished in my class and in my House–"

Severus closed his book, his expression unreadable, but a hint of pride flickered in his eyes. "Go on, Professor."

Slughorn beamed. "Tonight is a rare occasion, my dears. The Silverthorn Root is in full bloom, and there is no better time to harvest it than beneath the light of a full moon."

Hyacinth lowered her cup slightly. "It grows in the Forbidden Forest, I presume?"

Slughorn waved a hand dismissively. "A safe section! Nothing to worry about! Just a short trip, and we’ll be in and out before you know it."

Regulus scoffed softly, leaning back in his chair. "It is called the Forbidden Forest, Professor."

Hyacinth shot him a stinging look, a silent reprimand for his tone, before turning back to Slughorn. "What makes the Silverthorn Root so valuable?"

Slughorn brightened, clearly pleased with her curiosity. "Ah! A fine question. Silverthorn is already rare, but during a full moon, its properties become exponentially more potent. If properly used in brewing, it can enhance memory, increase magical focus, and even reinforce the effects of healing potions. The essence is at its strongest when harvested under these exact conditions."

Hyacinth considered this, her fingers curling thoughtfully around the armrest. Slughorn probably was going to do this himself, but it meant he had to get his hands dirty. Since he didn’t ask Lily Evans, then she assumed this meant he definitely did not let the other professors know. The opportunity wasn’t lost on her. Gaining favor with Slughorn, having access to rare potion ingredients, this was the sort of thing that would be useful in the future.

Still, she hesitated.

A night trip into the Forbidden Forest? She cast a long glance at Severus, who was already standing, his usual careful expression slipping into something slightly smug."Only the best can be trusted to harvest it properly," he said smoothly.

Hyacinth exhaled slowly before rising to her feet. "Then let’s not waste time."

Regulus, still watching from his chair, smirked slightly. "Try not to get eaten by a werewolf."

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. "Try to sleep early, Reg."

Regulus scoffed, but his smirk remained as she and Severus followed Slughorn out into the halls.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, the towering trees stretching high above them, their gnarled branches twisting in the moonlight. The glow of Slughorn’s floating lantern cast a warm, flickering light, barely enough to keep the darkness at bay. Hyacinth stepped carefully over a fallen branch, keeping her wand close.

She wasn’t nervous, not exactly. But she wasn’t naive, either. The Forbidden Forest was unpredictable, even in the safer sections. Severus, walking beside her, seemed completely at ease, twirling his silver knife between his fingers. "You seem confident," Hyacinth remarked. Severus glanced at her, smirking. "Well, I was chosen for my skill."

Hyacinth inclined her head politely. "Of course. I’m sure it had nothing to do with Slughorn wanting someone who wouldn’t accidentally poison themselves and run off to tell the other professors that he asked them to go into the Forbidden Forest at night."

Severus scoffed? Laughed? Hyacinth couldn’t tell. "That, too."

Ahead of them, Slughorn hummed as he stopped in a small clearing, gesturing to a cluster of delicate, silver-leafed plants curling at the base of a gnarled oak."Ah, perfect!" he exclaimed. "Now, my dears, Silverthorn must be harvested carefully; a single mistake, and its essence will weaken beyond use. This is why I’ve trusted you both with the task."

Hyacinth knelt beside the plants, her fingers brushing over the cool leaves. The roots shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

"Such a rare specimen," Slughorn murmured. "And under these conditions, why, it’s the finest quality one could ask for."

Severus was already at work, his knife gliding precisely through the base of the stems. His concentration was absolute. Hyacinth followed suit, working methodically, her hands steady. The root was especially thick.

A twig snapped.

Hyacinth froze.

Severus’s grip on his knife tightened.

Slughorn, still rummaging through his satchel, barely looked up. "Hmm?"

Another sound.

A rustle.

A presence.

Hyacinth lifted her gaze.

A stag stood at the edge of the clearing.

Massive. Golden-eyed. Unmoving.

It wasn’t afraid of them.

It was watching her.

Something cold slid down her spine.

Then, just beside her—

Paw prints. Large. Fresh. Leading toward the clearing.

Her stomach twisted.

More than one. A dog perhaps? And something else– larger.

The stag exhaled, its breath misting in the cold air. Then, without a sound, it turned and disappeared into the trees. Hyacinth stared after it, unmoving. Severus’s voice was quiet, but sharp,"You saw that," he murmured.

Hyacinth didn’t look at him. "Yes."

Severus’s gaze flickered toward the paw prints. His jaw clenched. “Strange.”

Hyacinth nodded once, slowly. Strange indeed. Slughorn, oblivious, clapped his hands together. "Well! That was a lucky sight, wasn’t it?"

Hyacinth slowly turned back, but the feeling of being watched didn’t leave her.

-

The Whomping Willow stood still, its massive, gnarled branches frozen in place as the entrance to the underground tunnel lay open. James ducked inside first, his breath misting in the cool air of the tunnel. Sirius and Peter followed closely behind, their footsteps muffled against the packed dirt floor. Ahead of them, Remus stood at the far end of the tunnel, his back against the stone wall. His arms were crossed, his frame tense, but his golden-brown eyes softened slightly at the sight of them. "You know," Remus muttered, "this is still a terrible idea."

James smirked. "Yeah, well, we’ve never been very good at avoiding those."

Sirius grinned, leaning against the wall beside him. "And we’re certainly not starting now."

Remus let out a breath, half-exasperated, half-grateful. "You don’t have to do this," he said, his voice quieter now.

James met his gaze, unwavering. "Yeah, we do."

Remus exhaled heavily, rubbing his hands over his face. "I hate this part."

They all did.

The waiting.

The moment before the change, before the pain, before the loss of control. James felt a familiar ache settle in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just nodded. "We’re with you, Moony," Peter said softly, his voice lacking its usual humor.

Remus swallowed.

Then, without another word, he turned toward the door. The three of them followed him into the Shrieking Shack, stepping back as Remus braced himself against the wooden beams. James closed his eyes. The hard part was over.

They left the small room and moved into the forest, it stretched wide before them, the trees bending beneath the weight of the wind, the scent of damp earth sharp in James’s nose.

He felt light, powerful, boundless. The shift had become second nature, it was no longer foreign, no longer strange. Beside him, Sirius moved in fluid strides, his black fur gleaming beneath the moonlight as he nudged against Remus’s side. Remus stood still, just for a moment. The hunger, the instinct, the rawness of the change was still there, but so were they.

And it made all the difference.

Remus tilted his head slightly, sniffing at the air, then let out a soft, short huff. James recognized it immediately.

Amusement.

Sirius barked in response, trotting ahead, then bowed playfully.

A challenge.

Remus let out a low growl– deep, but not aggressive.

Then he ran.

They followed.

Through the trees, through the thick underbrush, through the untamed night.

Together.

James wasn’t sure how long they had been running, but the night was still young, the moon still hanging heavy in the sky. The world was alive.The wind carried a thousand scents, a thousand sounds so sharp, distinct, clear.

But a familiar one stood out.

A melodic voice.

Faint. Distant. Familiar.

James’s ears twitched. He slowed, lifting his head, listening. The voice was closer than he expected. His gaze flickered toward the break in the trees, and then he saw her.

Hyacinth.

She was standing beneath the silver light of the moon, her head tilted slightly as she listened to something Snape was saying.

James felt something in his chest pull tight. It was ridiculous. He had seen her a thousand times before.

But never like this.

Never through these eyes.

The moonlight made her look almost unreal, her dark hair catching faint silver strands where the light touched it. The edges of her cloak shimmered slightly, tracing the curve of her frame in a way that made her look…Ethereal. 

James’s breath hitched, just for a moment.

Then, Hyacinth turned her head.

And their eyes met. James felt the weight of it. For a second, the world stood still. There was no wind. No rustling leaves. No sound of his own heartbeat, thudding wildly in his chest.

Just her.

And in that moment, he wondered, could she tell? Could she see him, not just as a stag, but as James?

Her gaze was unreadable, dark, searching.

And James– he couldn’t look away.

Not yet.

Not when she looked like that.

Like she belonged to the night itself.

Like she was something out of a story, untouchable, but devastating in the way that beauty sometimes was.

Then movement behind her.

James blinked, snapping back to reality. Snape was still speaking to her, gesturing toward Slughorn, who stood a few feet away, inspecting something on the ground. James exhaled sharply.

Of course it was Slughorn. He had dragged her into this. It wasn’t as if Hyacinth would voluntarily follow Snivellus into the forest in the middle of the night. James felt a flicker of irritation, confusion mixing with something else. He didn’t know what.

All he knew was that he needed to leave, make sure to lead Remus away from them.

Sirius nudged him roughly. James blinked again, trying to rip his gaze away from her.

-

The late afternoon light stretched across the courtyard, painting the stone pathways in warm hues as the crisp autumn wind rustled through the trees. The students gathered outside enjoyed the last bits of sun before the evening chill set in.

Hyacinth sat comfortably at the edge of a stone bench, legs crossed, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Across from her, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter lounged in their usual spots, their conversation shifting effortlessly between casual teasing and ridiculous debates. Hyacinth noticed there was a new scar slowly scabbing away on Remus’ forearm.

"—so naturally," James was saying, "the only logical solution was to cast a Tickling Charm on McGonagall before she could send us straight to detention—"

Remus, looking exhausted already, pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn’t."

Sirius, grinning, slung an arm lazily over the back of the bench. "Oh, but we did."

"And?" Hyacinth asked, amused despite herself.

James smirked. "Well, she didn’t scream at us yet."

Peter snickered. "Yeah, because Dumbledore walked in before she could!"

Hyacinth hummed, taking a sip of her tea. "Impressive that you’re still alive."

James winked. "I like to think I’m blessed."

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile on her lips. The conversation flowed easily, naturally. The sun was still warm, the company oddly comfortable and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to simply exist in it. Then, as if it were nothing, she said, "Speaking of reckless decisions, I spent last night in the Forbidden Forest."

The change was instant.

Subtle– but there.

Sirius, who had been leaning back against the stone archway, suddenly sat up straighter, his smirk fading,"You what?"

James blinked, his easy grin slipping. "Hold on..what?"

Remus’s grip tightened slightly on the book in his lap. Peter, caught mid-laugh, froze.

Hyacinth, noting every detail, lifted a casual shoulder. "Slughorn took Snape and me into the forest to collect Silverthorn Root. Apparently, it’s especially potent when harvested under the full moon."

Sirius let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "What was he thinking?"

James, still looking mildly horrified, added, "Slughorn dragged you into the Forbidden Forest at night?"

Hyacinth tilted her head. "Yes. That is what I said."

Sirius’s jaw tightened. "It’s not safe for you there."

The way he said it so natural, so immediate made something curl in her chest. She set down her cup, watching him carefully. "Oh? And it’s safe for you?"

Sirius paused.

James let out a low whistle. "She’s got you there, mate."

Sirius exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "That’s different."

Hyacinth arched a brow. "Is it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, frustration creeping into his tone. "I’m just saying, it’s not exactly the kind of place you stroll into."

"True," Hyacinth admitted, her tone easy. "But it was worth it."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "And why’s that?"

Hyacinth tapped her fingers against the rim of her cup. "I saw something, it was quite pretty."

James, who had just taken a bite of an apple, paused mid-chew.

Remus turned a page in his book, but didn’t actually look at it. She noticed he was slowly gravitating closer to Sirius, her cousin was now resting his hand on Remu’s knee. Peter, shifting slightly, cleared his throat. "Er—define something?"

Hyacinth glanced up at the sky, as if recalling.

"A stag," she murmured.

Silence.

James twirled the apple in his hand, the movement suddenly less lazy, more deliberate,"Big deal," he said after a pause, tone light. "The forest has stags."

"Not like this one," Hyacinth said, tilting her head.

James, grinning, leaned forward. "Oh? And what, exactly, was so memorable about this stag, Black?"

Hyacinth studied him, noticing the smugness in his tone.

"It was just… watching me," she said slowly. "Not afraid, not startled. It just stood there."

James’s smirk widened. "Perhaps it was entranced by your beauty."

Sirius groaned. Remus let out a breath of air and mutter, "Merlin, James."

Peter choked on his tea, laughing.

Hyacinth was quiet for a second. She could feel the increasing beat of her heart, “I’ve never seen anything like it."

Hyacinth refocused her attention and smirked, but her gaze flickered back to Sirius, watching his reaction. "And I found paw prints."

The air around them shifted. Peter shifted slightly, glancing toward Remus, who was still staring at the same page.

James let out a low chuckle. "Merlin, You think a couple of footprints mean something sinister?"

Hyacinth hummed. "Do you?"

James grinned. He raised one brow, challenging her, "No. But you clearly do."

Sirius scoffed, but there was something else beneath it. "Maybe you should stay out of the forest next time, Cinthie"

Hyacinth groaned and snapped back, "Maybe you should."

Sirius’s gaze narrowed slightly. James, as if sensing the tension, clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. "Speaking of weird things, Pete, you said you had something you wanted to share about Lockhart." 

Peter, relieved at the shift in conversation, perked up. "Oh! Right! So you know how he’s been obsessed with his hair lately? Well, last week, I caught him in the bathroom–"

The conversation drifted. Hyacinth let it, but she noticed the way Sirius’s knee was bouncing slightly, how Remus’s fingers were still clenched around his book, how James had moved on, but only just enough.

She had planted the seed.

And none of them had denied it outright. She stood, brushing imaginary dust from her robes. "Well, I should be going."

James grinned. "Leaving already? But I was so entertained."

Hyacinth smirked. "Try not to miss me too much, Potter."

James pressed a hand to his chest. "A challenge, but I’ll manage."

She whipped her head around, about to respond but she suddenly felt too loud in a quiet space. The shift wasn’t immediate, not obvious, just a subtle change in the air. A sharp voice cutting through the gentle hum of conversation. A tension threading its way into the courtyard, demanding attention.

Near the stone steps, Lily Evans and Severus Snape stood facing each other. The red head was throwing her arms in the air, you could almost feel the anger wisping off her like the flames of a fire.

James’s grin faded. Sirius sat up, boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. Remus closed his book. Peter’s laughter slowed, eyes darting between them.

"You’re a bloody coward, Severus!" Lily’s voice was raw, filled with something dangerously close to betrayal. Severus bristled, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “I never asked for your help, Lily!”

Lily let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Oh, I know! You never ask for anything, do you? You just stand there and let them do whatever they want, and then you call them your friends!”

Severus’s jaw clenched.

Hyacinth’s fingers tightened subtly around her cup.

Lily wasn’t finished. “You know what they did to Mary," she continued, her voice rising. "And what did you do, Sev?”

Severus said nothing.

"Nothing!" Lily seethed, her chest rising and falling quickly.

Sirius muttered, "What a fucking idiot."

James’s jaw tightened.

“You don’t understand,” Severus muttered, his voice lower now, defensive. Lily’s expression twisted. “Oh, that’s rich. Explain it to me, then! Explain how you can spend every bloody day with Mulciber and Avery and pretend like it doesn’t mean anything!”

Severus let out a harsh breath. “They’re my friends, Lily!”

Lily’s laugh was sharp, bitter. "No, Sev. I was your friend. And look where that got me."

Something dark flickered across Severus’s face. Hyacinth saw the briefest flash of guilt. Lily saw it, too. It only fueled her anger,“I can’t keep defending you,” she whispered, her voice suddenly softer, as if the fight had drained out of her. “And I won’t.”

Severus’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something—

Then, a group of Slytherins passed by. Mulciber. Avery. Rosier.

They snickered as they watched the scene unfold. Severus’s entire demeanor shifted and his expression darkened. Hyacinth could see the gears turning in his head, she could tell Severus made his choice.

“You think you’re better than me,” he muttered, voice poisoned with resentment.

Lily’s brows knitted together. “What?”

“You’ve always thought that, haven’t you?” Severus’s eyes flashed. “Ever since you got sorted into Gryffindor.”

Lily stepped back. Severus took a step forward, voice dropping into something almost pleading, but too full of anger to sound like anything other than a threat,“Go on, then, Evans,” he muttered. "Walk away. Go be with your people."

Lily inhaled sharply, as if she had been physically struck. Severus glared at her; his greasy hair was matted to his forehead, his jaw was clenched together, and he spat out, “I don’t need your help, you filthy Mudblood.”

Silence.

Lily gaped at him, Hyacinth could see her lip slightly quiver before she left the courtyard. 

Hyacinth barely had time to process it before James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all exchanged a single look, and as if moved by the same instinct, they were on their feet.

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" James’s voice was low, dangerous.

Severus barely had time to react before James’s wand snapped up.

"Levicorpus!"

The courtyard was utterly still.

Severus hung in the air, suspended upside down, his robes twisted awkwardly, his wand nowhere near his grasp. His face burned with humiliation as he struggled against the invisible force holding him captive.

James stood below, his wand steady, his chest rising and falling sharply. His face was still flushed, not from exertion, but from anger.

Sirius, standing at his side, twirled his wand between his fingers, his smirk dangerous. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, something razor-sharp and merciless. Peter snickered, stepping closer, his own wand gripped tightly. It was rare that he got to be on the winning side of a fight and even rarer that he got to be the one laughing. Remus stood just behind them, watching carefully. His arms were crossed, his face unreadable, but he didn’t tell them to stop.  James took a slow step forward, wand still raised, expression burning with fury. “Go on, Snivellus. I dare you to say it again.”

"Langlock!" Sirius added, his wand flicking smoothly. Severus’s mouth snapped shut, glued together by magic.

James tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Snivellus? Cat got your tongue?”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, what cat would want his tongue.”

Peter grinned. “Maybe we should keep him like this. Let everyone see what happens when he runs his mouth.”

James flicked his wand, making Severus spin slowly in midair. His voice was mocking now, dripping with righteous fury,“You like throwing around dirty words like that?” he asked. “Go on, then, say it again. Let’s hear it.”

Severus struggled, eyes wild, fists clenching at his sides.

Sirius let out a low, satisfied breath. “Not so fun when you’re the one being humiliated, is it?”

Peter let out a sharp chuckle. "Bet you really regret opening your mouth now, huh?"

James’s grip on his wand tightened. “Maybe we should make sure he learns his lesson.”

He raised his wand slightly, but a voice cut him off.

"Enough."

The voice was calm. Steady.

James’s wand faltered, just slightly.

Sirius turned, his smirk fading. “You can’t be serious right now.”

Hyacinth stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable. James let out a breath, still brimming with adrenaline. “Are you actually going to defend him right now?”

Hyacinth’s eyes flicked up to Severus, then back to James. “I’m not defending him.”

Sirius scoffed. “Sure as hell looks like you are.”

Hyacinth exhaled through her nose. “I’m telling you that you’re wasting your energy.”

James’s eyes flashed. “He called Lily a Mudblood.”

“I heard.”

Sirius bristled. “And you’re fine with that?”

Hyacinth’s expression remained steady. “Did I say that?”

“Then why…” James let out an exasperated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Why are you stopping us?”

Hyacinth sighed, glancing at Severus. His face was still red, his fists clenched tightly, his body stiff as he hung upside down. “This?” she said smoothly, gesturing toward him. “This isn’t justice. It’s just a show.”

Sirius scoffed, shaking his head. “You can’t actually believe that.”

Hyacinth met his gaze, voice calm. “You defend your house. I defend mine.”

James and Sirius froze.

Peter blinked. “Wait… what?”

James let out a sharp breath. “You don’t actually think this is about houses, do you?”

Hyacinth lifted her shoulders slightly. “You tell me.”

Sirius’s frustration boiled over. “Are you actually saying that standing up for him—” He gestured to Severus, who had gone still, watching the exchange with wide, burning eyes. “—is the same as what we just did?”

Hyacinth tilted her head. “Did I say that?”

James shook his head, voice tight. “No, but you’re acting like we’re the villains here.”

Hyacinth sighed. “I just think you’re making a mistake.”

Sirius’s nostrils flared. “By what? Holding him accountable?”

“By making him a victim.”

The words landed heavily. James’s grip on his wand loosened. Sirius’s jaw clenched.

Remus, who had been silent up until this point, finally exhaled and stepped between them.

“Alright,” he said, voice even. "Let’s just… take a breath."

Sirius scoffed, looking away. James shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Peter glanced between them all, still buzzing off the high of the fight, unsure where to land.

Hyacinth remained still.

Severus, still upside down, was breathing heavily now, his humiliation written across his face.

Mulciber and Avery had begun stepping forward, wands drawn.

Hyacinth noticed.

So did James.

And so, reluctantly, he flicked his wand.

Severus crashed to the ground.

He gasped sharply, scrambling for his wand, his body shaking with rage.

But he didn’t say a word.

He didn’t even look at them.

He turned on his heel and stormed toward the other Slytherins.

Hyacinth and the boys gather back around the tree they were laying under. The silent tension hung over their shoulders like a heavy coat.

“You’re actually mad at us?” Sirius’s voice was sharp, his chest still heaving. “Did you not hear what he said?”

Hyacinth sighed. “Of course I heard it.”

“Then why—”

"Because you’re not thinking," she cut in smoothly. "You’re reacting."

James shook his head, his anger barely contained. “He deserved that.”

Hyacinth’s expression didn’t change. “Sure. But you could’ve been smarter about it.”

Sirius threw his arms up. "You sound like a bloody prefect."

Remus cleared his throat, his voice gentler but firm. “We’re all a little worked up right now.” He glanced at Hyacinth. “Maybe we should just… step away from this before we say something we don’t mean.”

Sirius let out a sharp breath, rolling his shoulders back.

James shook his head, still looking at Hyacinth like he didn’t recognize her.

“You really think this is about winning?” he muttered.

Hyacinth didn’t blink. “What else is it about?”

Sirius’s voice dropped into something colder. “It’s about what’s right.”

Hyacinth arched a brow. “And you think humiliating him in front of the entire school made this right?”

Sirius clenched his fists. “I think it made him pay for it.”

Peter muttered, “He did deserve worse.”

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Enough. We all know why this happened. And we all know no one is changing their mind here."

Hyacinth didn’t respond. James exhaled sharply, turning away. “Forget it.”

James retrieved his bag and started to walk away towards the dining hall. Sirius scoffed under his breath, but he followed. Peter hesitated for a moment before falling in step with them.

Remus lingered just long enough to glance back at Hyacinth.

She didn’t look at him.

She was still watching Severus, who had disappeared into the group of Slytherins.

The line between them all had never felt clearer.

None of them were sure they could understand what Hyacinth was thinking.

-

The library had emptied like a tide retreating, low murmurs, the shuffle of books, a few bursts of laughter echoing down the corridor.

But James Potter wasn’t laughing.

He stood a bit away from the window. His eyes fixed on the girl still collecting her things near the front.

“Hyacinth,” he called.

Her quill paused mid-air. She didn’t look up immediately, of course not. Everything she did was deliberate.

When she finally turned, her expression was unreadable. “Potter.”

He stepped closer, voice low but sharp. “In class today, did you really just defend the Bloodline Integrity Law?”

A few students nearby slowed their steps, sensing the heat. One girl stopped completely, pretending to fix her bag strap.

Hyacinth blinked, slowly. “I offered historical context. I said the law was originally designed to ensure magical children were raised in households that understood how to care for their magic.”

James scoffed. “Right, because Muggleborns can’t possibly raise magical children. Better to take them away and hand them off to purebloods like trophies.”

Hyacinth’s posture didn’t shift, but something behind her eyes gleamed ike a blade catching candlelight.

“The law doesn’t say that anymore,” she replied. “It hasn’t in decades. Now, it offers oversight. Guidance. So magical children don’t grow up in fear of themselves.”

James stepped closer. “It was built on the idea that our kind–” he jabbed a finger between them, “--should decide who’s fit to raise their own children. That’s not guidance. That’s control.”

Hyacinth met his gaze. “It’s protection. Magical children born to Muggles have accidents. They get locked in basements. They get exorcised. Do you know how many cases there were in the early 1900s?”

James opened his mouth but paused.

“You think I’m wrong,” she said softly. “But you can’t disprove me.”

He hated how calm she sounded. How calm she was. There was no guilt in her voice, no hesitation, just certainty. Sharp, elegant certainty. It lit a fire in his chest.

“You sound like your family.”

Hyacinth tilted her head. “That’s supposed to be an insult, I assume.”

“You’re defending laws written to keep your family in power,” he snapped. “And you say it like it’s logic. Like you’re rational. But you’re not. You’re just—”

He stopped short.

Hyacinth’s voice dropped. “Go on. Say it. I’m just another pretty little snake wrapped around poison. Or did you have a different insult lined up?”

James’s heart beat wildly. Not from anger. From something worse.

His gaze dropped, just for a second, to her mouth.

Too soft. Too composed. Too close.

“Why do you talk like that?” he asked, voice lower now. “Like you know everything. Like you’re watching all of us from some tower.”

Hyacinth’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Because I do.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Because for a moment… he believed her.

“You’re infuriating,” he muttered.

“And yet you’re still standing here.”

A silence stretched. Not comfortable. Not hostile either. Something brittle. Something charged. James’s jaw clenched. “Do you even believe half of what you say?”

Hyacinth stepped closer, her voice a whisper now, deadly quiet, just for him.

“You think I say these things because I believe them?” She leaned in slightly. “I say them because it’s what’s expected. Because it keeps me safe.”

James froze.

Then her voice shifted, softer, slower.

“You’ve never had to survive your last name, James. Only live up to it.”

That one pierced. Deeper than she meant to. He staggered a bit, metaphorically if not physically. She watched it land. Saw the crack.

Her lips parted as if to speak again, but he interrupted himself not with words, but with a sharp inhale, a flicker in his eyes.

He was looking at her differently now.

And she knew what that look meant.

She stepped back. Just enough. James stayed still.

The students who had lingered were pretending not to watch anymore. Hyacinth raised a brow, recovering her mask. “Careful, Potter. If you stare too long, someone might think you’re considering betrayal.”

He swallowed. Hard. “And if I am?”

A beat.

Then she turned away without answering.

And left him standing there, flushed, breathless, and suddenly unsure of everything.

-

The portrait door slammed shut behind him.

James stormed into the common room, shoulders stiff, hair even messier than usual, his face caught somewhere between a snarl and a breakdown. He looked like he’d just argued with a professor or dueled a dragon.

Remus looked up from his book, Sirius paused mid-conversation with Peter, and all three watched him with equal parts concern and curiosity.

“Rough night, Prongs?” Sirius asked casually, kicking his legs off the other side of the couch. “Fancy a game of chess?”

James hesitated, then nodded silently. He didn’t speak as Sirius conjured the board between them on the table and started setting up the pieces with his wand. They sat. The fire popped softly behind them. A few silent minutes pass.

“Mate, if you slam that chess piece down any harder, you’re gonna crack the board,” Sirius said after James moved his rook with something just short of violence.

James didn’t answer.

Peter, sprawled on the rug with a pile of snacks, raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been stomping around like someone hexed you in your bollocks”

“Hyacinth again?” Remus asked mildly, not even looking up from his book.

James froze.

“…No.”

Sirius snorted so hard butterbeer came out of his nose. “Oh no, he says, while practically burning her name into the tabletop with his eyes.”

“She’s infuriating!” James exploded, throwing himself back like the chessboard had personally offended him. “She talks like every word is a spell and I’m just some idiot she’s humoring for sport.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “So… she’s smarter than you. I thought we knew this.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.”

Remus turned a page, still calm. “What did she do this time?”

James groaned and sat forward, rubbing his face with both hands. “She defended that ancient pureblood guardianship law. In History of Magic. In front of everyone. With footnotes. Like it was some noble tradition and not a horrifying relic of a blood-obsessed system!”

Peter shoved a biscuit into his mouth and mumbled, “Didn’t some Muggle try to drown his kid for floating a teacup? I mean… the law’s twisted, yeah, but she’s not wrong about how it started.”

James turned to look at him, betrayed. “Peter!”

Peter shrugged. “I’m just saying, she’s not totally wrong.”

Sirius blinked. “Oh no. Now he’s infected.”

“Did you yell at her?” Remus asked, eyes narrowing but he already knowing the answer.

“No!” James snapped. Then, grudgingly, “Yes. A bit.”

Sirius leaned forward, grinning. “Did she eviscerate you with words like daggers wrapped up in a pretty bow?”

James groaned. “Yes.”

Remus finally looked up, now intrigued. “What exactly did she say?”

James leaned in, mimicking her voice with unsettling accuracy: “‘You’ve never had to survive your last name, Potter. Only live up to it.’”

“…Damn,” Peter said softly.

“Okay, that’s actually poetic,” Sirius muttered. He reaches a hand to touch his neck,“I’d tattoo that on my neck.”

James threw a pillow at him.

“She meant it,” James muttered. “And it got to me. She says these things like they’re just facts. And they are. But they hit you in the gut. They shake you. It’s like she takes the foundations of what I believe and says, ‘Yes, that’s nice, now watch me dismantle it.’”

Remus tilted his head. “So she’s making you… question things.”

“Yes!” James gestured wildly. “And I hate it. I hate how calm she is. How she can twist logic like it’s embroidery and make people agree with her, even when she’s defending something vile. I hate that she never reacts — she just responds. Like nothing can touch her.”

Sirius gave him a look, sharp and older than his usual humor. “She was raised not to show fear, you know that.”

“I know,” James said. “But there’s something else. It’s like she’s performing a version of herself that even she doesn’t believe in and doing it so well, it makes you wonder if you’re the one pretending.”

Peter blinked. “Do you want to snog her or write a thesis on her psychology?”

James dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know! One second I want to duel her, the next I want to ask her what she’s reading, and then she says something like that and suddenly I’m thinking about what it would be like if she actually told me something real.”

Remus’s voice was quiet. “Do you think she ever would?”

“I don’t know,” James muttered. “She’s brilliant. And terrifying. And composed. And—” he paused, his voice lowering, “—and I feel like every time I talk to her, I leave less sure of who I am.”

Sirius let out a slow breath. “That’s... more than a crush, mate. That’s existential warfare.”

James glared. “She’s your cousin. Say something helpful.”

Sirius sighed. “She’s family. Complicated. And she’s not easy, James. You won’t charm her into softening. You’ll have to bleed for it.”

Peter grinned. “You’re gonna need a sledgehammer.”

“Or therapy,” Remus added dryly.

“She walks into a room like she owns it,” James muttered, almost to himself now. “And then leaves like she was never there. And I’m the one left with questions.”

“Oh Merlin,” Sirius groaned, flopping backward across the couch. “He’s writing poetry now. This is worse than I thought.”

Peter cackled. “You’re so doomed.”

“I’m not!” James started, then stopped himself, already too far gone.

Sirius peeked at him over the arm of the couch. “This better not become a thing.”

“It won’t.”

Peter smirks, “It definitely is.”

Remus just shook his head and turned back to his book hiding a small, knowing smile.

-

James finally gave in to exhaustion, muttering something about needing to clear his head. Peter followed, yawning and still muttering about poetic tragedy under his breath.

The door clicked shut at the top of the stairs.

Silence settled like ash.

Sirius lay sprawled across the couch, one leg slung over the side, his arm tossed across his stomach. The firelight flickered across his face, catching in the edge of his jaw. His usual mischief was gone.

Remus, still curled in his armchair, watched him over the rim of his book.

“She’s going to destroy him,” Sirius said.

Remus didn’t ask who.

Sirius exhaled. “And he’s going to let her.”

He sat up halfway, tossing a knight between his fingers, watching the firelight gleam off its polished edge. “He doesn’t get it. James thinks everything can be solved with enough bravery and loyalty. That if you love something hard enough, it changes.”

Remus closed his book gently. “You don’t think people can change?”

Sirius stared at the chess piece, then let it drop back into the box. “I think some people were never given permission to try.”

Remus said nothing.

Sirius shifted, elbows on knees now, voice lowering. “She’s like walking into a room full of knives and thinking it’s a garden party. And James is standing there in dress robes wondering why he’s bleeding.”

Remus blinked. That image hung in the air, vivid and cutting.

“Hyacinth…” Sirius went on, quieter now. “She was raised with every expectation I was:  blood, legacy, dutybut where I fought it, she perfected it. She turned it into armor. She made herself untouchable.”

He gave a small laugh, not mean, just tired. “She scares me sometimes. Not because she’s cruel. Because she’s good at it. She knows how to look someone in the eye while pulling them apart with words. She doesn’t even flinch.”

Remus moved from the chair to the couch, sitting beside him without saying a word.

“She’s always been cold,” Sirius continued, voice soft. “But lately… I don’t know. Something’s different. It’s like she’s cracking, but in places no one else sees. And I hate that it’s James who’s getting close enough to notice. Because if she lets anyone in, even for a second, and they don’t understand her, I know she’ll never try again.”

His voice caught just for a breath.

Remus reached up and gently threaded his fingers through Sirius’s hair, brushing it back from his temple with slow, deliberate ease.

Sirius exhaled like the touch let something loose. He leaned into it slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“I hate what she’s carrying,” he murmured. “I hate that she thinks she has to carry it alone. I hate that she won’t talk to me about Regulus, not really. I know he’s pulling away, I know he’s reading things he shouldn’t be, but every time I ask, she looks at me like I’ve betrayed her just by noticing.”

Remus’s hand never stopped moving.

“I’m losing both of them,” Sirius whispered.

Silence bloomed. The fire popped once, soft and distant.

Remus let his thumb brush the curve of Sirius’s ear as he moved another lock of hair behind it. Sirius didn’t move away.

“You’re not losing me,” Remus said softly.

Sirius’s lips twitched. “You’re the only one I trust not to lie.”

His voice dropped, nearly a breath: “You always know when I’m full of shit.”

Remus gave a quiet laugh. “Takes one to know one.”

They both smiled.

The moment stretched, the kind that shouldn’t have been allowed to last, but did. Firelight against skin. Silence holding more than words ever could.

Sirius turned his head slightly, cheek grazing Remus’s palm.

Remus didn’t pull away.

And neither of them spoke.

Because it was already there.