The Three Lords (two lords and a lady)

Harry is in the room of lost things. She's been in the room for about two weeks now - since her name came out of the goblet of fire, and she refuses to budge now. She had been so dumb, of course, this is what would happen after what happened at the world cup. Of course, she should have taken Voldemort's early attack as a warning that he was going to up his game this year.

Why can't he just leave her the fuck alone?!

She is enjoying being lost as everything in this place seems to be. She's never read so much in her life! Who knew that blood magic could be so interesting? Why was Enchanting no longer taught in Hogwarts(?), this book was only thirty years old and the wizarding would so rarely changed.

It's now, two weeks since she ran into the unknown room and locked everyone else out, that she finally takes stock. That she stops avoiding everything that's happened.

Someone is trying to kill her again, her friendships are proving to be dangling from a thin thread again, the whole school thinks that she is the devil or some evil Dark Lord even though she looked the actual Dark Lord in the face and told him to go fuck himself again... She's all alone in the face of death again, no clue what to do, swimming without a paddle (which was an especially funny analogy because she couldn't even swim). 

"Well, I'm fucked." She chuckles, long past the crying faze of this whole new nightmare she had found herself in. "What the hell am I going to do now?" 

Suddenly the precarious stacks around her start shifting making her scramble back. She watches in confused horror as piles in the distance topple and items rocket towards her. She'd run but they come at her from all directions. Just as suddenly as it started the shaking of the room stops as the new items land in front of her. The first to land is an outfit on a manikin that makes her gasp, it looks deadly and beautiful. She runs her fingers over the hard leather armoured top and feels the magic surrounding it swim up to meet her. It pulls another gasp from her, this one in delight. She steps away after a moment of marvelling and looks at the pile of books that landed next to the manikin.

Dangerous Dragons and where to find them.

Dragon habits and mating rituals.

How to deal with a Mother Dragon.

The art of understanding a Dragon's accent.

She chokes on her spit. Dragons?! Why in Merlin's name would she need to know about dragons... Her eyes dart to the armoured outfit in fear, remembering the question she asked right before everything started changing. "Oh my God! Are there going to be DRAGONS?!?!What the fuck! I'm fourteen!" She cries in panic...

She snaps awake on the bed she's been sleeping in since she locked herself in the room of lost things. On the beds left is a rickety bedside table with the four books sitting on top of it, her glasses sitting next to a pair she's never seen on top of the books, and on her left is the manikin. "Okay, so that happened. I'm really going to have to fight a dragon." She sighs as she puts on her glasses, only to pause. Curiosity over this new pair war with her mind, how did they get there? Merlin, how did the side table get there? After a few seconds of deliberation, she decides to put the new pair on. Oh My God! She baulks as everything gets so much sharper, everything is so clear! Was this what being able to see was like? She laughs, for a long time. This may have started because of something awful but it was turning out to be a great trade-off so far. The remainder of the dragon books has her eyes move over the books again. "... Or maybe I won't have to fight them..." She pulls the four books onto the bed before picking up the last one. 'The art of understanding a Dragon's accent'. She tilts her head curiously to the side then opens the book to a random page.

'... and so Valloag, Lord Of The Skies, has corrected my pronunciation once again. I feel as though I shall never be able to speak as he does since my tongue alines more with No-Legs than Wings but it is fascinating nonetheless. 

Today Valloag, Lord Of The Skies, has decided to introduce me to their mate Diazul, Protector Of Life, who guards their un-hatched. An honour that very few have been granted so I must try my hardest to curl my words the right way, they have told me that she is even older than them so I must show the height of respect.

Diazul, Protector Of Life, laughed. She laughed about my butchering of the Winged serpent tongue so hard that she knocked her head on the ceiling of their hatching cave. I have never felt such embarrassment in my life. Godric can NEVER know of this.'

She can't help the little curl of a smile as she reads. This reads more like a diary than an actual book but she finds that it only makes her more invested, finds herself devouring the contents of the book without breaks. Not even caring that it was written by Salazar Slytherin, it made sense since it talked about speaking to serpents.

'I find myself oddly emotional now that the storms have died down and I may continue my travels. Valloag, Lord Of The Skies, and Diazul, Protector Of Life, have been delightful company. So much so that I have started re-looking at my friendships with my fellow headmasters. Sometimes it feels as if I am only seen by them in a favoured light when they wish something of me, more so now that those born without magic are whispering about devil worship and witchcraft. I worry for those children outside our walls but they refuse to listen to me. I hope it won't take an act of true horror for them to see reason.

Valloag, Lord Of The Skies, and Diazul, Protector Of Life, have invited me to stay to watch their hatchlings leave their eggs and I was shocked with how easily I agreed. I was supposed to meet Rowena but surely she will understand that this is an opportunity I cannot miss? To view the hatching of dragons! To be one who helps feed their initial magic! To be viewed as family to something so ancient and powerful! I know she will... I hope she will.

Caina, Xudanth, and Gydraeth are so small and adorable. They roll around and babble in the cutest way, I had never shared Helga's fondness for the creatures before but I think I might be starting too. Of course, it is a tad annoying that Diazul, Protector Of Life, has forbidden me from speaking to them so that I might not "Infect my younglings with that No-Leg tongue of yours" but it is a small price to pay when Caina, Xudanth, and Gydraeth have decided that I make a good bed. I will miss this when I return to England.'

By the last page she is frowning, the little bits of talk about the other founders of Hogwarts reminded her of her own friendships with Ron and Hermione. Of how they always wanted something from her, for her undivided attention (Hermione) or for the attention she attracted (Ron). She frowns more and then gently places the book down and pulls one of the others towards her, she didn't have time to think about it right now. The first task was a week and a half away and she refused to die because she accidentally insulted a fucking dragon.

It took her two days to devour the other three books, the need to live murdering years of conditioning at the hands of her relatives. Which left her with a new problem, what to do now? She could start reading random books again but she didn't want to drown her new dragon knowledge. So what to do?

...

...

Suddenly she remembers that the room of lost things had answered her when she had asked her last question so maybe it would again. She takes a deep breath then scans the miles of cluttered space. "Um... hello? It's nice to meet you, umm, room of lost things? I'm Harry and I just wanted to say thank you for your help." It's quiet for a moment then something gold flies at her, she catches it and laughs when she sees that it is a single Galleon. She'll take that as a 'you're welcome'. "Thanks again, but umm. Is there... I'm a little... Okay, so I was thinking that maybe to pass the time before the first task that I would sort through some of the items surrounding me. Is that... okay?"

The moment she finishes ten trunks come flying at her, slamming to the ground hard enough to spring them all open. All of them are empty. "Okay, so you want me to... pack it up?" Another Galleon comes sailing her way. "Well okay then, you're the boss." This Galleon is aimed at her head which makes her laugh. "Okay team, let's sort."

She spends the days leading up to the first task slowly sorting. First, she had everything separated into basic groups:

• Clothes
• Shoes
• Jewellery
• Books
• Parchment
• Inkpots
• Quills
• Potion equipment
• Potions
• Potion ingredients
• Wands and weapons
• Furniture
• Brooms
• Magical items
• Artwork
• Money
• Anything else

Then she focused completely on one pile, creating sub-sections and sub-sub-sections. She started with clothing. "Okay." She says as she looks at the massive pile of fabrics. "New piles. First, School uniforms." She watches in wonder as the pile of fabric exploded outwards as her requested items rush to the new spot she has pointed out, The pile is still too massive for her to comprehend so she decides to break it down more. "All right, so I want school robes here. Hats here. Gloves here. Ties here. Jumpers here. Shirts here. Trousers here. Skirts here. Socks here. Tights here. And cloaks here."  The pile rearranges itself into the four piles she wants. She reaches for the robes only to pause at the soft buzzing she had come to associate with the more powerful magics, her eyes narrow. "Cursed school clothes here." She points to a section of the floor in front of the fifth chest, horror curling around her gut as multiple items fly over (including the robe she was about to fucking touch). 

She walks around the pile and pulls the fifth chest back a foot before opening it. She finds out that it not only has an extension charm on it but that it also has several compartments to it, how cool! She didn't even know that they did that! "Okay room of lost things, I've not really had a chance to branch out in magic so is there a way for me to pack these without touching them? Or setting them off?" A book flies at her, almost beaning her in the back of the head. 

Household charms and potions that every household wife should know.

"Cool, thanks!" She gains another Galleon that makes her chuckle before she starts skimming the book. She finds it on page two hundred and five, why there was a need for that many household charms she would never know.

'Complicare vestes.

A delightful little charm that every witch should know when debut season comes by. A potential husband must know that you can take care of him and his household in any situation as you all well know.

The charm itself is one that allows you to be able to fold and direct any clothing materials you should find yourself across. The pronunciation is Com-pli-ca-re Ve-s-tes and the wand movement is a simple flick of your wrist, left to right for an inch.

Another reason for all you witches joining the coming debuts to know this spell is its more lethal nature. We all know that in many marriages it is the wizard who holds the power, sometimes going so far as to imply slave contracts with their wedding contracts. Locking many young witches freedom away. It is a terrifying time for you all and the hope of finding a good and kind husband get lower each year. Complicare vestes is a clothing folding charm so it passes all slave contracts as safe to be cast on your husband if the need arises. I delight in telling you that it is anything but, see the clothes will fold themselves into a neat pile no matter what is in the way. A beautifully bloody way to ensure your freedom should your situation be dire enough.

Good luck with your debuts you lovely young ladies and make sure that you memorize the entire book before your hand is given away. You won't regret it.'

Harry blinks and reads the last paragraph again. She wasn't imagining it, this was something that could murder someone. Wow, okay. She places the book on her bed and then carefully points her wand at the pile of cursed clothes. "Complicare vestes." They fold themselves neatly and, at her direction, enter the fifth chest. When they are all the way in she gently closes the lid. "Can I have a blank piece of parchment, an inkpot of black ink and a quill please?" The items fly over to her, she is especially taken by how beautiful the quill is. Her fingers run over the soft feather before she turns to the parchment. 

CURSED.

She puts it on top of the lid then lines it with Galleons so that it doesn't fly away. Perfect, now she doesn't have to worry about the rest of the school clothes. "Okay, I know that I'm asking for a lot here and if it's annoying then you don't have to do it but could you add two more piles? One for broken things that can be mended and one for things that can't be salvaged?" The piles of clothes get made without a second thought. "Thank you."

She spends hours folding the school clothes as well as matching the multiple pairs of gloves and socks (all unpaired gloves and socks go into their own pile). Things her size go into the first chest and all the others go into the second chest. She's fascinated with how Hogwarts school uniform has changed over the years but so very tired by the end. She eyes the sill massive pile of clothing that remains and... wait, is that metal armour? She blinks but the metal chest plate is still there, filled with socks and the odd scarf. Her eyes move from the pile and her bed, should she continue? Should she just go to sleep? Her mind sluggishly weighs the pros and cons of the two options. In the end, she decides to do half.

"Muggle clothes here and wizarding clothes over there." She says as she points to the places she wants them. "Anything cursed in front of the fifth chest, broken things I can fix in the 'can be fixed pile' and anything else in the rubbish pile. I'm super tired so I'm going to put the cursed things away then go to sleep for a while, is that okay?" She gets a galleon as the piles rearrange themselves. She moves the Galleons and the note off of the fifth chest before pointing her wand at the new pile sitting in front of it. "Complicare vestes." She says while fighting a yawn. The clothes fly up and fold themselves before neatly floating into the chest. When they are all in she shuts the lid and puts the note (and Galleons) back on top of it. "Good night room of lost things." She murmurs as she lays on the bed sitting in the middle of the massive piles of objects, a small smile pulling at her lips as she feels the blanket fluttering over her shoulder and tucking her in. No one had ever done that before.

Harry is standing in darkness, the only light seems to be coming from the mist that curls around her ankles. She spins but all she sees is the same oppressive darkness. 

" ... lose her! I need her ...  work! Crucio! ..."

She spins to the whispered voice and runs to it, her steps echo throughout the darkness and her breathing becomes laboured but eventually, she spots a light in the distance. She picks up her speed, fingers stretching to the whisps of light. One brushes her index finger and she sees a flash of a tall brunette writhing on the ground before her eyes snap open as she's looking at the canopy of the bed she fell asleep in.

Okay, that was a weird dream that she doesn't want to think about. Lucky that she still has so much work to do in the room of lost things, a galleon hits her cheek. Speaking of. "Alright, alright. I'm up. Let's tackle more of this." She laughs as she rolls out of the bed. In front of her are the same desk, chair, goblet and chipped plate that appears every time a meal rolls around and off to the left of that is a massive bathtub filled to the brim with steaming water that smells a tad like roses. Her eyes move the bookcase filled with portions and books on beauty charms that she's not seen before as well as the full-length mirror next to it. "I feel like you're trying to hint at something here." She grumbles before she sits down at the desk. "Just a bacon sandwich and some green tea please." The requested items appear on her plate and in her goblet.

She enjoys a quiet meal and a long soak in the bath before she realises what the mirror does. "Oh honey no." The mirror says, voice full of disappointment. "Did you even use the exfoliating potions? The rejuvenating creams? A basic waxing charm? Anything? please tell me you used something?"

She blinks then narrows her eyes at the mirror. "I don't know what you're talking about." She says darkly and the mirror actually sighs like she was some misbehaving child.

"Oh honey, you know nothing at all? Not even the basics? For shame on your mother for not teaching you." The mirror goes on.

"My mother's dead." She snaps, flashes of green and the echo of a woman's scream flicker across her mind.

"Hmm, I suppose I can forgive her then. And I always did like a challenge." The mirror continues like it didn't just insult her and her mother in one breath. "Blank slates can be fun too. Oh! I promise to be the best mommy stand-in ever, now turn me towards those potions I can see in the corner of my glass. We're going to have to do the whole bath again." Harry blinks again at this mirror, what the hell? "Well, honey? I haven't got all year." She ends up doing it because she's still in shock about the audacity of this hunk of metal and glass. "Oh, a delightful range. Not such a lost cause, after all, are we honey? Okay, grab the blue potion on the third shelf, the green one on the second and the pink one on the fourth shelf. The blue one is a Potion of Harmony, it will give your skin a natural glow and clear your skin of unwanted things such as blackheads and dead skin. You will be dumping that one in the bathtub once it's been refilled. The green one is Potion of Freedom, it is like a shampoo of sorts that 'frees' your hair from grease and other unsightly things. The pink one is a Potion of Pleasure, it is used after the Potion of Freedom to soften hair and help give it direction in hair-styling charms."

She gathers them up gingerly and makes her way to the bath, the water is steaming once again and now it smells like lavender. "What now?" She asks, confused as to why she's going along with this insulting hunk of glass and metal as well as curious about what it intended to do with her.

"Well, now you turn me back around so I can supervise." The mirror huffs like it was obvious.

"... So you can... watch me bathe?" She asks slowly.

"Yes, so I can watch you bathe. Morgana knows that you need all the help you can get honey." Now insulted but still curious (the room of lost things has been nothing but good to you since you got here, the room of lost things has been nothing but good to you since you got here) she turns the mirror towards the bath. "Excellent, now pour the Potion of Harmony into the bath until I say so." She pours until a third of the potion is done. "Stop! Perfect, I was contemplating making dump the whole potion in since you clearly need it but instead, I've decided that we'll be doing daily baths until your skin is flawless. I expect nothing but the best from my daughter after all."

Wow, just wow. Who did this bitch belong to? Unimportant, it was clearly lost on purpose. With her head held high, she gets back into the tub, her skin burns slightly and the mirror makes her dunk herself several times before she is allowed to use the potions of Freedom and Pleasure. By the time she gets out she's sure that if the mirror was human she'd strangle it to death. Her bare feet pad along the warmed stone floor as she puts the potions back. "What now?" She hisses, trying so hard not to send a blasting hex at it.

"Well now you give me a slow turn so I know what to do next, every witch is different you know. They all require different things to attract their future husbands."

"I'm not looking to get married!" She splutters even as she follows the direction of the mirror, she hates it but her skin has never felt so soft and her hair has never been so tame. "I'm just trying to survive this stupid tournament."

"A tournament?" The mirror gasps. "Which one? Also, you look a lot better honey but we still have a lot of work to do to get rid of the years of damage you've racked up. Get that purple oil and that yellow potion on the top shelf and then that book wedged between the pink and red potions on the bottom shelf."

"The triwizard tournament." She grumbles as she gets the new items on the mirrors list, the book makes her internally cry.

1001 elegant hairstyles for ladies of the royal court.

"The Triwizard Tournament! Oh honey I'm so excited for you! Beauty, brains and high magic levels, not many can make that claim. And to think that my daughter will be in the eyes of thousands!" The mirror gushes much to her growing horror. "It's even more important that we get this wildness of yours under control, how long do we have until your first task?"

"What? But I didn't even enter! Someone put my name in! I'm the most hated person in this bloody school because everyone thinks that I'm stealing the glory from Cedric!" She cries out, almost dropping the oil, potion and book in her hands.

"Wait, honey." The mirror says. "Are you telling me that you are the fourth champion in the Tri-wizard Tournament?"

"Yes!" She cries out again. "A completely unwilling one at that!"

"... So even more eyes will be on you! I will be able to help you lure in a respectable husband so much faster than I had anticipated, delightful! Now how long do we have until the first task honey?"

"I... What? I'm not looking for a husband!"

"As you shouldn't, no respectable witch looks for a husband. How uncloth, it is the wizard who needs to do the legwork in that regard as well as the work of the witches parents, me in this case honey, to decide if they would be the most advantages match." The mirror says primly. "Your job is to show off so that all of their eyes are on you, you must be a soft beauty and a deadly spell caster. Able to make wizards flock to your husband for political advice so they may spend a moment breathing the same air as you yet vicious enough to rip any who would endanger your future children limb from bloody limb. A wizard that marries you must know that you are the tool to his growing success as well as the defender at his back." Oh wow, that... what timeframe was this mirror from? Actually, with what she'd seen from the pureblood families this mirror could have been lost a week ago. "And we will start this journey now. You may not like this tournament but you are powerful enough to compete, so much so that the goblet of fire has let this fraud go and let you be four in a competition that has never seen more than three."

She blinks twice. "Wait, what do you mean the goblet of fire let it happen? Wasn't it tricked?" She asks in confusion.

The mirror laughs and her heart sinks. "Honey, the goblet of fire is a very powerful magical artefact that has spent hundreds of years soaking in every potion and spell you little humans could come up with to prevent someone from putting someone else's name in as a competitor. And with that constant stream of magic over that period of time? Well." If the mirror was human Harry got the impression that it would be smirking at her, it makes her a lot wearier but... the room of lost things had brought it here for a reason... right? "Becoming sentient is just logical. If that goblet didn't want to see your magic in action that it would have never added your name to the list of champions. In fact, it sounds like it was so excited to see your performance that it expelled you from Hogwarts and declared you a legal adult. Again, making my job of finding you a husband that much easier." She feels like she's suffocating, what? "Now honey, the time limit. I need to know how extreme we're going for this."

"A week and three days." She says faintly, what the fuck was her life?!

"Oh, that's no time at all!" The mirror complains. "Quick, the yellow potion is a Potion of Awakening. It awakens your natural moisture, stopping your skin from drying out and getting ruff. Rub it all over your skin, use only a palm-full on each limb, one on your front and one more on your back. The purple oil is a Potion of Beginnings, as soon as you're done with the Potion of Awakening use two palm fulls on your hair. Make sure that you get all of your hair! Hurry!"

Jerked back from her panic by the mirror's urgency she finds herself halfway through the application of the Potion of Awakening before she realises it. "Why are you so invested in this anyway?" She grumbles as she continues, abet slower this time.

"Why wouldn't I be invested in the increasing power of my child?" The mirror asks simply. "It is not to say that you don't have lots of raw power, I can see that clear as day honey but raw power alone doesn't get you far in this world. Hmm, think of it like a game everyone plays. You want to win, no? But the problem is that everyone else does too and while you are powerful and could likely take most in a fair fight not everyone plays fair. Sometimes they aim while your back is turned, sometimes they gather allies to overpower you. If you die bleeding and broken it matters not to them because it is a game everyone plays and all that makes you is one less person competing."

"... And you think me gaining a husband will help? Having someone there to watch my back so it's not stabbed or adding to my power so we aren't so easily overpowered?" She asks as she moves to running the Potion of Beginnings through her hair, secretly marvelling at the fact that she can run her fingers through her hair.

"Exactly, and while you must always be vigilant and never overconfident finding a husband that complements the size of your raw power with an equally large pool of raw magic will make you and your future children untouchable." The mirror says happily, seeming glad to have finally gotten its point across. "Now onto the hair charm and an outfit of your standing then I shan't bother you until it is time for your nightly potion regime." It promises. "I'll even let you pick them both today so I can gauge how hopeless you are."

And back to being a bitch, Harry thought that they were finally getting onto the same page. She sighs and puts the two potions back into their place before she opens '1001 elegant hairstyles for ladies of the royalcourt.'. She flips through the pages until she sees one that catches her eye.

'Crispatus in pila.

This is a spell that all ladies of the court should know, the art of gathering your hair up into a curled bun.

The spell is pronounced: Cris-pa-tus in pil-a and the motion is the swirl of your wand in a clockwise manner around the back of your head.'

Okay, she can do that. She picks up her wand and swirls it behind her head. "Crispatus in pila." She feels a slight tugging at her skull and the sweeping of hair moving along her back before it all stops. She waits a moment before deeming it safe, now onto the outfit. Her eyes move to the, as of yet, unsorted pile of clothing. "Umm, room of lost things? I'll let you pick this one." The Wizarding clothing pile shifts before a ball of black fabric flies towards her, she shakes it out and choaks. "Room of lost things! I can't wear this!" A knut is tossed at her from somewhere in the money pile.

"The room is right, you'll have to get used to it eventually. May as well be now, where we can keep creeping eyes away from you." The mirror says seriously.

"Get used to... I'm never... when the hell I'm I going to need to get used to this!" She shakes the sheer fabric in her hands.

"Oh honey." The mirror mocks making her seeth. "Don't you know how babies are made?"

She opens her mouth to retort but then she remembers a hushed conversation between Draco and Blaise while under her invisibility cloak.

"How many times has it been now Draco? Five? Six?" Blaise chuckles.

Draco is chuckling too. "Seven if you must know."

Blaise's chuckling grows as he, in a move she's sure he'd never do if he knew he was being watched, knocks his shoulder playfully into Draco's. "Oh poor, poor Parkinson. She still thinks that she has a shot at being more than a sexual release. I wonder what her face will look like when your father finally announces your betrothal to Astoria Greengrass?"

"Oi! Not a word or I'll be going blue balls before the summer!"

Her face turns bright red. "I-I-I..." She stutters, sex. Why in all this talk of husbands, power and children did she never think about the fact that she would have to have sex to make it happen? She was never going to let herself fall into the position that Pansy Parkinson was in so would she be a virgin until this mysterious, powerful husband came along? In her mind she sees a flicker of Tom Riddle, smiling at her proudly as Ginny's lifeforce bleeds out of her. She shakes her head violently at the image then looks at the sheer fabric in her hands again, her fingers rubbing along the silky material. Would she want that? To save herself for someone who complimented her? For someone she might not love but would be good for her? That would protect her? She had been so deep in living in fear of when Voldemort was going to try and kill her next that she had never thought about what would happen if she survived...

Who would her parents approve of? If they were given the chance to hold her contract? Who would Sirius choose if he ever got his name cleared?

... She slowly puts it on and gasps a little at the activation of magic that she hadn't noticed in her musing, suddenly it's tightening slightly at her waist to give her more of an hourglass figure and her breasts are held up and pushed together by an invisible bra. The mirror makes a pleased sound and she looks up... she really does look good, better than she ever has before and it's a little terrifying. Because the mirror clearly has a plan for her, one that the room of lost things is leaning into 'has spent hundreds of years soaking in every potion and spell... Becoming sentient is just logical.', that is going to end with her being married to some unknown man before the end of the Merlin damned tournament! 

A Galleon collides with the side of her head softly and she swallows before focusing on the task at hand. "Right, sorry. Let's get started shall we?"

She spends hours putting Complicare vestes to good use as well as matching up gloves and socks but it's still not enough. By the time she's flopping back into her bed she's only managed to clear out three-quarters of the muggle clothing, how was there more lost random clothes than there were lost school uniforms?! And she hadn't even looked at the massive pile of wizarding clothes.

"Oh no, honey. We still need to go over your nightly routine, up you get." She groans. "None of that, it's not my fault that you decided to work until you dropped. Maybe tomorrow you will be more efficient,  now up! Don't make me ask a third-time young lady!"

She groans louder but rolls off the bed and onto her feet. "Fine, I'm up."

"Good, now grab the red potion on the second shelf and the silver one on the bottom shelf. The red one is a Potion of Purification, it will purify your skin. Further wiping out dead skin and removing any lasting potions. You drink a single gulp. The silver potion is a Potion of Empowerment, it will slowly pull away at the natural binding around your magical core while you sleep. Making it easier to use your raw power without silly things like wands and staffs. It will not increase your power though." The mirror warns making her nod in understanding. "You only drink a drop of this every other night until it is empty."

She nods again and drinks the required amounts before putting them both back on the shelf and climbing into bed. "Goodnight room of lost things, goodnight mirror." The blankets snuggle around her softly in answer from the room.

"Goodnight honey, I promise that as much as you dislike it right now this is the right call." The mirror says, she smiles sleepily and lets the darkness pull her in. "Slytherin's heir would be such a perfect match for you honey... I wonder if he's taken a wife yet..."

Harry wakes up bright and early to the soft smell of lilies curling around her. She hadn't slept that well in... Well, she hadn't slept that well ever. She opens her eyes with a sense of peace, maybe the mirror and the room of lost things were onto something with their determination to make her a proper lady after all.

"Good morning honey, grab a bite to eat then let's get your morning potions out of the way." The mirror says cheerfully and Harry simply goes without complaint, to at peace to fight it like she had yesterday. It goes so well that the mirror lets her pick her hairstyle again so long as it's different than the day before then lets her run wild.

That day she spends dedicated to clearing out all of the lingering clothes, something that turns into somewhat of a fight between her and the room of lost things before she gets too tired to keep fighting. You see the room of lost things was apparently completely in the mirror's court now. First was the fact that it had refused to let her pick that days outfit, insistent on an even shorter version of what she had worn the day before in white. 

"Come on, room of lost things. I wore one yesterday! Can't I wear something normal?" She complains as she waves the sheer little robe around, a knut gets tossed at her head. "Please!" Another knut comes flying at her. "Mirror! A little help!"

"Not a chance honey, I agree with the room of lost things. You need the practice. In fact, I think you should wear some heels too, the first task is closing in meaning that the yule ball is fast approaching. You will be an expert in walking in them by then honey. Room of lost things!" A pair of white heels comes flying at her head and she barely catches them. She ends up wearing them both by the end of the day and is forever thankful that the heels have an anti-tripping charm on them. 

The second part of the argument came from the fact that the room of lost things kept dumping clothes in front of the first chest where all of the uniforms that fit her went, only wizarding clothes even though she had directed a few muggle pieces that she liked over there. This wouldn't be such an issue if the room of lost things decided that she didn't need the uniforms anymore, news that she was no longer a student seemed to spur it into action.

She had been ignoring the first chest and the growing pile in front of it in favour of packing up the rest of the clothes, she could have this fight when there wasn't so much stuff everywhere. Her piles dwindle until only the muggle things she picked out and the pile in front of the first chest remain. She opens the first chest intending to direct the clothes into it when it's suddenly yanked into the air and all of the folded uniforms come streaming out. "Room of lost things!" She cries in shock and several brooms fly over and start swapping the uniforms towards the second chest, trapping her muggle clothing picks as well. "Come on! I need those!" She tries to reach out for them but her hand gets whacked by a broom handle. She keeps trying though because she's stubborn like that but in the end the room becomes victorious. "Complicare vestes." She hisses before putting everything away in the chests that the room wants her too. She goes to bed that night without saying goodnight and feels extremely guilty about it when the blankets still cocoon her with warmth.

The next plie is shoes. The amount of cursed shoes is larger than she imagined which is slightly scary but she gets a new spell out of it 'Movere calceamenta. Pronounced: Mo-ver-e cal-cea-men-ta. And cast with a sharp stabbing motion.'. A lot more shoes no longer have pairs which she finds out after hours upon hours of searching, they go in the odd pile. She doesn't know what she's going to do with the odd ones yet but she's sure that she'll think of something by the end. Her guilt at the night before stops her from complaining about the pile of shoes in front of the first chest, even if the amount of heels makes her flinch slightly.

The day after that she gets to the pile that causes her trouble until the day of the first task. Jewellery. There are rings, necklaces, earrings, other piercings, bracelets, crowns, anklets, and they are all tangled together in a massive mess that would reach the ceiling if she even knew where that was. It's actually such a mess that she can't even get the cursed items out which means that it's new spell time, Hermione would be proud of how much Harry was learning... Or maybe not since she's fairly sure everything she's learning is dark magic.

Evolvere ac retexere (Pronounced: E-volve-re ac re-texe-re. And cast by gently swinging your wand left to right over the pile of tangled jewellery) is Merlin blessed even if it does knock her out cold every night that the mountain of jewellery remains. She finally gets it all untangled and into their proper piles with a cheer of achievement before she dives back in. First, she deals with the cursed pieces, gently wrapping each one in fabric from the 'can't be fixed' pile, mid-air, before setting them all down in the fifth chest. Then the rest, it is so hard to match thousands of earrings without any direction and she is so lucky that the room of lost things was magicking up earring boxes for her so she didn't lose any. Some boxes aren't earring boxes at all but empty box sets. She manages to pair up about fifty earrings out of the one thousand and twenty-three boxes she now had before she needed to pass out for the night but she is more than proud of it.

When she wakes there is a calendar sitting on her new bedside table, it is flipped to November and a single Galleon sits over the 24th square. Next to it is an old newspaper turned towards an article detailing one of the previous Triwizard Tournaments. She swallows and forces a smile, trying to drown the sudden panic she was feeling about the fact that she would have to face a dragon today.

"Thank you but why are you helping me with this? I thought that you only wanted me to sort the room out?" She asks, a tad weakly. "I would much prefer to do that instead." 

Suddenly a broom shoots past making her jump, it rips the old newspaper up and she watches it flutter around before it lands at her feet. In the picture is a sobbing family as a young man franticly waves his wand, nothing happens. She swallows as the sound of a single rolling coin gets closer and closer, she sees it roll into view before falling over on a paragraph of the news article. With shaking fingers she moves the Galleon and picks the paper up.

'And the whole Malfoy family is horrified to find out that young Sable Malfoy has lost his magic after being too injured to compete in the final trial in the triwizard tournament. After careful reading of the contracts, it would seem that not being able to start a trial was seen as forfeiting in the eyes of the goblet of fire, meaning that the contract they swore on their magic to complete is broken by the participant. This has led the Malfoy family to enter a blood feud with the Weasley family since it was found out that Sable had spent the night before the second trial romantically involved with young Kathryn Weasley which Lord Malfoy claims led his son to being too tired to concentrate.'

And the horror is back, she could lose her magic?! What would happen then? Would she be forced back to the Dursley's? Would she be able to live quietly with Sirius while they were on the run?

She blinks as a Galleon hits her foot, it shocks a laugh out of her because she suddenly feels like a pet. Rewarded when she's good with Galleons and scared by flying objects when she misbehaved. "Yes, okay, fine." She says as she waves the hand still holding the newspaper. "I'll get ready." Another Galleon is sent her way, she really is a pet. This is her life now she supposes, pet of a magical room.

"Ooo, honey! It's our big day!" The mirror cheers as she approaches, grabbing the required potions automatically. "Are you excited? I'm excited! The whole world is going to see your beauty soon. The first step in winning yourself a powerful husband." She rolls her eyes a little and dumps a thrid of the Potion of Harmony into the bath. "Oh no honey! Stop right there!"

"Umm, why?" She asks wearily from where she was just about to climb into the bath.

"Its a big day today so that means extra attention." The mirror explains. "Now grab the black potion on the top shelf and the book right under it." She picks up the requested items and heads back to the mirror, curious as to what is going on. 

Advanced Beauty techniques for powerful witches and wizards.

"Good, now the potion is a Potion of Immobilizing, you rub it into any hair you wish to be removed. Which is a lot of places that I will direct you to, no time for arguing. On page seventy-four is a spell that removes hair, it works in tandem with the potion as they were created together so only the hair covered in the potion will be removed." Harry nods and opens the book to page seventy-four.

'Capillus passus is a wonderful spell I made in my sixth year at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to go along with the potion I made as part of my entrance piece for the local potions guild. 

The spell is pronounced:  Ca-pi-llus pa-s-sus.

And the only movement you will need is to drag your wand over the covered area's.'

The mirror wasn't lying when it said that it had a lot of areas it wanted her to cover, some of the places were quite embarrassing but she does it with little fuss so that she can get it over with. Sighing in relief when the mirror deems her worthy of finally getting into the rose-scented bath. "Remember what we talked about honey. Never be the one chasing, and never get caught by anyone you don't want to catch you! Oh, and your virtue is a weapon. Only let your husband have it when he is your husband. Also, try your best to be extra impressive in your spell work but don't get hurt, if you can fight a dragon without getting hurt then you will attract even more suiters." It was kind of relaxing that the mirror was still so single-minded about her impending marriage. No matter what changed she knew that this would stay the same. 

"I get it." She laughs. "My only goal in life is to find a husband."

"I'm sorry, have you not been listening to your mother?" The mirror snaps. "Your first goal is to find a husband who can protect you and your future children. The rest of your goals should be bringing the magical world together under your fashionable heels so that they can fall in line as weaker witches and wizards should."

Harry blinks slowly as she climbs back out of the bath, grabbing her next set of beauty items while flicking through 1001 elegant hairstyles for ladies of the royal court... And she's back to wondering about why exactly the mirror was lost. "...Right, maybe we should do the first part first?" She hedges, trying to steer the mirror away from world domination.

"Yes, we should. No need to get ahead of ourselves now is there?" The mirror chuckles. "Now put on what you'll be wearing and show me what hairstyles there are in there. You may be doing well at picking out your own but this is a very important occasion as you must look exquisite." She huffs but does what she's told. "Oh, that looks good on you honey. Hair now." She turns the book and flicks through the pages. After a while, the mirror finds what they are looking for. "Stop! This one! It's perfect!"

She turns the book back around and can't help but agree that the hairstyle does match what she's wearing. "Dimidium plectere coronae.." She says and feels the familiar tugs at her scalp.

"Oh, you look darling honey. I'm so proud of us." 

She chuckles weakly. "Me... me too." She says awkwardly... maybe a reread of Salazar's book couldn't hurt. "I'm going to read this book again, could you tell me when I need to leave?" She gets a Galleon from the room of lost things. "Thank you!" She calls out before sitting on the end of her bed and reading the book, after a while, she feels a Galleon hit her foot. She snaps the book shut with one hand and rolls her shoulders. "Okay, could you put these books with the others? Since I don't need them for the task anymore." The books fly off to join the mountain of books she hasn't looked at yet. "I'll see you both soon." She promises as she runs her fingers along the posts of her bed fondly before getting out her map and invisibility cloak. Giggling as a few Galleons roll around her feet.

"See you soon honey! Wow them all!" The mirror calls out as she swings the invisibility cloak around her then makes her way out of the room of lost things for the first time in a month.

She goes to the Quidditch stadium before she takes off the invisibility cloak, wrapping it around the map then stashing it under the fabric of the Quidditch stands. She then makes her way up the signed pathway and steps into the champians tent. All of the people in the tent swivel to her, shock clouding all of their eyes. She supposes that she understands since she has been 'missing' for a month. Then Dumbledore's eyes narrowed in fury.

"HARRY POTTER!!!"

Dumbledore has been shouting for about five minutes now. Both the other Headmasters also take as many digs as they can at her while Dumbledore is in the mood not to correct them. She hates it, all of the yelling and shouting and digs at her character. It reminds her violently about her time at home, more so when Dumbledore demands that she look him in the eyes while he was talking to her. Aunt Petunia used to do that before she hit her. Instead, she stares resolutely at the top of his nose, following it as he moves. It gives the illusion that she's meeting his eyes while keeping her safe from his disappointment.

"... AND YOU'VE MISSED A MONTH OF CLASSES! YOUR CLASSMATES HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK! YOUR HOUSE HAS BEEN WORRIED SICK!"

"They aren't." She says softly, the first thing she's said since she walked in. Her voice may be soft but it cuts through the room as though she had shouted it. She squares her shoulders and stares determinedly at Dumbledore's upper nose. "They aren't my classmates. They aren't my house. Merlin be damned but this isn't even my school anymore!"

"Harry..." Dumbledore starts but she cuts him off. This is the first human interaction she's had in a month and it's making her want to run back towards her possibly evil adoptive mirror mother!

"Viktor Krum was named champion of The Durmstrang Institute, it said so on his slip." She bites out. "Fleur Delacour was named champion of Beauxbatons, as it said on her slip. Cedric Diggory was named champion of Hogwarts because it was said on his slip! But..."

"Your slip just had your name, lass. Am I right?" Moody grunts. She nods but she doesn't move her glare from Dumbledore's nose. She, like everyone else in the tent it would seem, have forgotten that Moody isn't supposed to be there.

"Is that why you haven't gone to your classes, Harry?" Dumbledore asks, trying and failing to slip into his old grandfather face. "Why you've not gone to your common room?"

"I don't have a common room anymore. Not since someone decided to kill me, again. Four years in a row must be a record since this was supposed to be the safest place in magical Britain."

"Harry, you know that's not true. You will always be a Gri..."

"My school robes are all black!" She snaps, cutting him off again. Dumbledore opens his mouth in shock but she's had enough, she turns to Bagman. "I would like to sleep tonight so can we just get on with this." A little rude yes but it seems to get Bagman jumping right back into action.

"Yes, yes we should." He says before clearing his throat. "B-Barty, the bag."

Barty glares a little at Bagman before stepping forward. "Champions, in a circle around me." They all step up to Barty. "Now, Miss Delacour, if you will." He holds out the bag towards Fleur, Harry can see that she looks troubled as the bag smokes but she reaches in any way, coming out with a tiny green dragon. "The Welsh Green." Fleur looks up at her headmistress in slight horror. "Mr Krum." Viktor reaches in without fear, pulling out a red dragon. "The Chinese Fireball." Barty then turns and shakes the bag at Cedric who also reaches in bravely though his fingers tremble the tiniest bit. The dragon he pulls is yellow. "The Swedish Short-Snout, which leaves..." Barty moves to her, watching as she reaches into the bag. "The Hungarian Horntail."

"So cute." She coos as she gently runs her fingers over the dragons head, ignoring the looks she gets from everyone else. It rumbles and pushes up into her finger like a cat being petted.

"Yes, well while these are cute in their current size they represent four very real dragons," Barty says as he folds the empty bag and stuffs it into his pocket. "Each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple: Collect the egg. This you must do because it will be the only clue to the next task."

Well fun. She turns away from them all and starts petting the Hungarian Horntail again, smiling when it preens. "Well, good luck champions," Dumbledore says as he steps up to Cedric. "Mr Diggory, at the sound of the canon you may..." He's cut off by the canon blasting to life making them all jump. 

"Diggory! Diggory! Diggory! Diggory!" They can all hear the crowd chant outside of the tent. Cedric swallows then leaves after dumping his Swedish Short-Snout on his cot.

Dumbledore turns towards her before he too leaves. "Come and see me in my office tomorrow Miss Potter."

She ignores him and moves over to her section of the tent. She lasts a minute before she gets up and scoops Cedric's dragon up, letting the two dragons curl around each other as she sits back on her cot. "Hello, sweet things." All of the tiny dragons snap their heads towards her before the dragons in Fleur and Viktor's hands launch themselves towards her, Fleur gives a tiny shout of horror as they clumsily fly towards her. They crash into her palm, claws scraping against her palms as they try and right themselves.

"You speak the No-Legs tongue!" The Chinese Fireball exclaims in shocked excitement, its head swivels between her and the Hungarian Horntail.

"I do, and I am so very glad that our tongues have stayed close enough that I may still understand the Winged tongue. May I have your names? I do not wish to offer insult." 

The Swedish Short-Snout raises its head first, a furious hiss to its words. "I am Fraermeis, The Mammoth. Why is there a little human trying to steal my hatchlings?! Why have I been dragged from my safety to this place!"

She nods her head in respect as her mind raced, the tiny dragons were connected to the actual dragons?! "Please do not harm him, he but a hatchling himself, Fraermeis, The Mammoth." She says softly. "You have been given a false hatchling, all of you have, and we have been tasked with collecting them from you. If we fail our magics will be ripped from us, if we could choose then we would never endanger your hatchlings."

The Swedish Short-Snout becomes lifeless for a moment before exploding into fury. "You speak truth! They have given me a false hatchling! Stupid humans." The Hungarian Horntail, Chinese Fireball, and Welsh Green become lifeless at that. No doubt checking their own eggs. In the distance, confusing cheering starts up. "I have given the hatchling the false one, I will not be the reason that a hatchling is killed." 

"Thank you Fraermeis, The Mammoth." The other dragons have come back, fury lining their very small forms.

"I am Butur, The Eternal, No-Legs speaker." The Welsh green snarls, age bleeding into her voice. "You will show me the hatchling that is to collect the false one. Any others will die for this insult." 

Harry nods quickly and gets up, right as a very confused Cedric enters the tent. His eyes move around the tent before they land on her, she watches several emotions flicker over his face before he approaches her. Clinging to his golden egg, the tiny dragons snarl at it. "Did... Harry, did you talk to the dragon?" He asks wearily, eyes flickering between her eyes and the little dragons sitting in the palm of her hand. "Did you ask it to give me the egg?"

Fleur and Viktor freeze and watch her, she keeps her head high even if she is becoming more and more unsure about everything. "They are connected." She says softly. "And furious that children have been sent to steal from them, more furious that their babies have been put in danger when they were promised safety. They refuse to play the games of petty humans." By the end Cedric's eyes are wide, she gives him a weak smile because he did just go face to face with a fully-grown dragon. "Her name was Fraermeis, The Mammoth. The dragon you faced." He swallows and nods, walking shakily to his cot.

She then walks towards Fleur who straightens. "Yes, A'arry Potter." Fleur says primly.

She doesn't answer Fleur straight away, turning to the Welsh Green first. "This is the hatchling they will force to face you Butur, The Eternal." 

The Welsh Green climbs her palm until it is perched on the tip of her finger, staring at Fleur in a calculating manner. "She tastes of fire. I will spare her."

She nods and turns back to Fleur. "This is Butur, The Eternal. She says that you taste of fire and that she will spare you." The sound of a canon exploding makes them all jump.

Fleur looks at her wearily. "... You are sure?"

"This is a matter of life and death Fleur. I would never lie about this." She promises. Fleur nods, rolls her shoulders, and walks out of the tent.

"I wish to know who my hatchling will be too." The Chinese Fireball says to her. She nods and walks over to Viktor who stands completely still. The Chinese Fireball walks down her fingers then pointedly holds out a clawed foot towards Viktor. Slowly Viktor reaches out until their fingers touch, the Chinese Fireball walks forward and sniffs his wrist. "I have the scent now, he will be given the false one as soon as he approaches. Tell him that Esiat, Champion Of The Red will aid him."

She turns to Viktor. "Her name is Esiat, Champion Of The Red. She has promised to give you the egg as soon as you approach."

Victor watched her as the horn goes off signalling that Fleur had gotten her golden egg. "... You 're diff'r'nt H'rry Pott'r." She tilts her head and sends him a small smile when he tilts his hand, making the Chinese Fireball slide back into her hand. "I will w'tch th'm while you comp't'."

"Thank you." She says, her eyes moving to Fleur's shocked ones as she stumbles to her cot. "No one is dying today." He nods at her once before moving to the tent opening to wait for his canon. She moves back to her own cot and sits, turning her attention to the Hungarian Horntail. "May I know your name as well? You do not have to of course."

The Hungarian Horntail watches her for a while and she doesn't push since she promised that she wouldn't. In fact, the Hungarian Horntail waits until the cannon goes off to signal that it was Viktor's turn to enter the arena before they speak. "A name for a name." They demand lowly.

She nods. "My name is Harry." She doesn't add her last name because family names are insulting to dragons, or well the fact that they dared have a second name without first earning it. The dragons watch her for a moment before the Welsh Green, the Swedish Short-Snout, and the Chinese Fireball go still in her palm. She feels the connecting magic wash away, leaving her with one tiny dragon and three toys.

"Greetings Harry, The Bright. I am Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life. I look forward to speaking to you in truth."

"As do I." She says before the last of the magic washes away. In the distance, the horn signalling the end of Viktor's task goes off. She places the toys on her bed and flops back, she closes her eyes and simply waits for the cannon blast.

Stepping into the arena is scary even though she knows that she will come to no harm. The crowd in the stands is silent since they have likely realised that their entertainment was over the moment Cedric got his egg handed to him. She rolls her shoulders and makes her way to the centre of the arena before bowing lowly to the Hungarian Horntail before her. "Greeting in truth Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life."

The Hungarian Horntail chuckles before bowing her neck. "Greeting in truth Harry, The Bright. Approach, so that we may talk more freely. It has been many generations since my blood has spoken to one of No-Leg tongue. I find myself intrigued."

Harry pushes down all panic about willingly walking towards a dragon and walks purposefully towards the Hungarian Horntail. "I believe that it may have been this long since one of my blood has talked to one of Winged tongue as well." She admits, she doesn't know exactly where her parseltongue comes from but it was family magic so it had to be connected to Salazar somewhere.

"Then let us talk Harry, The Bright. A story for a story until we run out? These petty humans will have to wait for us or dare to try and interrupt." The Hungarian Horntail says with smugness lacing her tone, she rolls the golden egg in between her claws making Harry laugh.

"I suppose I can agree to those terms Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life. The first story I can remember is the night my hatchers were sent to the mountain beyond..."

They must spend hours trading stories because by the time she has to tap out (and of course, she'd be the one to run out first, it's fourteen years against two hundred and seventy-four) the sky above them is dark. The only light coming off of the small bonfire they had created was because she didn't have night vision, yet. "Ah, it would seem that our time for sharing is up Harry, The Bright. It has been fascinating to learn of how you view the world around you in your youth, you may have your false hatchling now."

"Thank you Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life. I have been fascinated myself to learn about what the world is like for you. I hope that your travel back to Romania is a safe one for you and your hatchlings." The Hungarian Horntail bows her neck and Harry copies her before she rolls the golden egg towards her. Harry gently picks it up before she nods again and leaves with Bagman yawning through a task closing speech.

She casually walks back to the tent with her egg like she doesn’t feel the many eyes following her, this is the first time all of them, but the judges and champions (and Moody for some reason), have seen her since the goblet of fire decided that it wanted to have some fun.

And she’s different, she knows that she is. She’s more elegant for one, hours walking around in heels has done wonders for her posture, and her hair is tame for the first time in her life. Her magic too, it flows more freely around her. Almost like it couldn’t be completely contained in her body anymore. It’s a little scary but magic is so much easier now so she’s not complaining.

She walks into the tent and all of the champions jump up. “Are… are you okay? You were gone for a long time.” Cedric says quietly like he was scared of spooking her.

”Yes…” She says slowly, not at all understanding why they were acting like this since she’s the one who can talk to snakes and apparently dragons. “Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life and I were just trading stories. Sorry for taking so long.”

Cedric looks like a puppet with his strings cut, Fleur huffs and goes back to her cot. Viktor looks interested though. “I would lik’ to h’r’ th’s’ stori’s, if you ‘r’ ‘bl’ to sh’r’ th’m.” He says gruffly. “Whil’ w’ w’it.”

She smiles up at him. “I could share a few, I’m sure she will not mind.”

The next hour is spent with her telling Viktor the story of how Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life, won a fight against three older dragons, killing Vaimmei, Protector Of Life and earning her title. Cedric and Fleur are clearly also listening but unwilling to interrupt her.

”That’s a good story, lass.” Moody says when she finally finished her story, it makes her tense that he was able to sneak up on her and she resolves not to let it happen again. ‘And I’m sure that they would like to hear another but the judges have come to a decision. Come along, the lot of you!”

She gets up and brushes herself off. “Thank you for telling us.” She says politely.

They follow Moody out of the tent and back into the arena. The judges stand tall on their podium. “It was a very close competition.” Barty’s voice rings out. “But after Mitch deliberation we, the judges l, have come to a decision. In first place is Cedric Diggory four his use of spell work at the beginning of the task. Tied for second place are Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, who completed their task with a minute. And in last place is Harry Potter who took five hours to complete her task.”

She feels a little smug at how annoyed they are with her, now they know how she feels. The mirror may be disappointed but she’s decided that she’s going to be dead last in every task.

"Last?!" The mirror cries in annoyance while she gets ready for bed. "How could you have come, last honey? Did you not prepare properly? Were you not fast enough in your spell work?... Did those idiot dark wizards and witches get offended at your perfect use of light magic?! Fools honey, they are nothing but fools! My daughter, last! Bah!"

She pauses, the Potion of Purification frozen where she was about to touch it to her lips. "Dark witches and wizards... Oh no, they are light witches and wizards." She says as she lowers the potion.

The mirror laughs sharply. "Oh please, honey. Them, light witches and wizards? Tell me another joke." When she doesn't say anything the mirror laughs loudly. "Oh, Morgana! You actually believe that they are light witches and wizards! They are actually parading themselves around as light witches and wizards! Those fools might actually believe it themselves. Ha!"

Well, there is no way she's sleeping now. "... So they aren't... light witches and wizards?" She asks slowly, curiosity colouring her words.

"No! Of course not honey. Too emotionally driven to be light, not like you. You're delightfully light."

"I-I don't know what you mean." She admits making the mirror sigh.

"Of course you don't, I wouldn't be surprised if they taught it wrong on purpose just because the new blood didn't like being called dark." The mirror huffs out. "Come here honey, time for a lesson in magic." She walks over and sits in front of the mirror. "Okay, so dark magic is powered by the emotions of the witch or wizard while light magic is powered by the lack of emotion used when casting. Something you are quite good at but my previous child was abysmal at. Not that I didn't adore him and his calculating mind, it's the liars I can't stand you see. The ones who go out of their way to pander to the new blood and in doing so effectively brutally murder magic."

"I, umm, isn't most magic supposed to be used without emotions?" She asks as she stares at herself in the mirror... is the background slightly different? "I mean I know that the Patronus Charm needs happy memories to work but others?"

The mirror laughs again, softer this time. "Oh no, if you asked most of your... well I suppose that they aren't your classmates anymore are they? If you asked most of the fourteen-year-old witches and wizards in this school of magic they would tell you that it takes them some sort of emotional pushing to get their spells to work. A blasting hex requires a spark of anger, the levitating charm requires a small bubble of joy, and so forth."

Oh... That was news to her. Harry leans back a little as she thinks back on it she's never associated magic with what emotion would fit best, it's always been about how much magic should she let through her wand. In fact, she finds it quite odd that emotions would be needed for it at all. What if she can't make herself mad enough to cast the spell? What if she gets too mad? The whole thing was a risk she just couldn't take with a dark lord on her tail.

...

Oh.

OH!

Oh, of course, Tom Riddle had become a Dark Lord! He was a psychopath. How easy it must be for him to manipulate his emotions and therefore his spells power range. "Poor little Ginny, well she spilt her heart and soul to me," Tom tells her with a gleeful expression on his face. His magic crackles madly from her wand as he approaches. She shakes the thought away like she always does when memories of the chamber come up.

"You don't understand how they do it do you?" The mirror asks brightly. "It must make very little sense to you my little light witch. Don't worry though because it shouldn't make sense to you honey, just like the concept of casting spells with no emotional output at all confused my last you one. It's a perfect balance actually." The mirror says conversationally like it wasn't shattering and remaking everything she knew about magic. "You are almost pure light just as he was almost pure dark, you see, honey?"

She slowly nods, head still spinning as she tries to wrap her head around why anyone would need emotions to cast wingardium leviosa. "I, uh, I guess I do?"

"Good. Now take your potions then off to bed with you. We have a ball to plan for tomorrow." A knut hits the frame of the mirror sharply. "And the second task." The mirror sighs like anything but the Yule ball wasn't worth its time at the moment. "Speaking of tasks, why did you place last? Don't think I forgot about that young lady, how will you get a husband if you're last? That is almost as bad as being second or third, the least memorable positions!"

"Oh!" She says as she remembers what started the conversation on magic types. "It's because I took so long, but who could blame me. Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life had very interesting stories."

"... Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life?" The mirror asks, voice carefully void of emotion. "Who's that?"

"She was the dragon I was made to face. She was given the golden egg to protect but they told her that it was a real egg rescued from potchers, that the mother was killed protecting it. She was, Rightfully, furious about the whole thing and was more than willing to make everyone wait as long as possible to leave." She explains between her nighttime potion doses.

"Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life is the Dragon?" The mirror gasps excitedly. "And they all watched you holding a casual conversation with her?! Forget about last place honey! This is perfect! By the time morning comes the whole world will know, it'll be a bloodbath for your hand. We must follow up with the perfect outfit for the Yule ball. And you must not take a male no matter what, they could think that they're ahead in the running. We don't want to give any of these children false hope now do we?" 

"Sure." She says sleepily as she crawls into bed, the Potion of Empowerment draining her energy as it always does. "Night room of lost things, night mirror." Her blankets warm up slightly and snuggle around her.

"Goodnight honey. Dream of the perfect husband now." The mirror coos.

In her blurred vision she sees the golden egg she 'won' gleaming in magical light.

"Have you ... her?" She blinks awake in a black void, the only light coming from a low mist that curls around her ankles.

"... turned up ... task ... was different ... you should ... you wish ... " She remembers the voices, remembers that she'd been here before.

"Should I? ... I do that?" It feels denser this time, a little more real. She doesn't like that for some reason so she pushes the thought away and jogs towards the voices.

"It was glorious ... could feel her ... so bright but ... really light ..." Her jog turns into a run as everything starts fraying at the edges. She had only gotten a breath look last time and she was determined to learn more.

"You have done well ... Legilimens." She reaches out to the tendrils as the spell connects and is filled with a powerful warmth as the world around her spins like she had taken a port-a-key. Oh, Merlin, it felt so good, Legilimens, she needs to remember that. Whatever it is she's a little in love with it. When she lands she sees... herself. Not like in the mirror, no. It's her puffed up in annoyed anger in the champions' tent on a giant T.V. There is a tall man in black silk pyjamas. From what she can see of him his hair is black, short and styled, and his skin is pale. Not that she needs any of that because she suddenly knows exactly who he is. She keeps purposefully still as his slender fingers reach forward and tab the screen, she's not even sure that she breathes.

"They aren't my classmates. They aren't my house. Merlin be damned but this isn't even my school anymore!"

The Harry on the screen says sharply to Dumbledore. Wow, that was sharper than she meant to say that, no wonder Dumbledore had looked upset afterwards. Voldemort makes a thoughtful noise then swipes the screen, the memory skips forward. This time it's a top-down view of her sitting on a large rock and waving her hands around as she talks to Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life. Completely uncaring about the colours changing in the sky.

"... And then he punches me in the side and shoves me to the floor so he can get a better look at the No-Legs I was talking to." 

Past her says with more hand waves while Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life's nostrils start to flare.

"How horrid of that little human, you are sure of your blood ties to it?"

Past her laughs brightly at that.

"Unfortunately, our hatchers share a hatching couple."

"There are bad eggs sometimes yes, though this is the first I have heard of blood being poisoned against blood."

"It happens a lot with humans."

Past her explains with a shrug, Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life hums.

"Hmm, an odd concept but each race has its weaknesses. What I do want to know is what you did in retaliation, you do not seem the type to roll over and show your under-scales."

"Me? I didn't do anything bad. I promise, in fact, I would say that I was very helpful."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he was pressed right up to the glass separating him from the No-Legs. He clearly wanted a closer look so I got rid of the glass, it's not my fault at all that he fell in."

Iarlia, Destroyer Of Life laughs. Voldemort swipes again and she's seeing past her's smug face as she's announced to be last for how long she took to get her egg. Who's eyes is he looking out of? Was this his own memory? Was he watching her the whole time?

"Well, well, well Harry. Aren't you just full of surprises this year?" Voldemort chuckles lowly as he uses his hands to zoom in on her. His undivided attention makes her uncomfortable so she takes a step back, a mistake she finds as the single clack of a heeled shoe echoes around them both. Well, Merlin's saggy tits. Voldemort stills for a fraction of a second then the darkness around them gets darker, heavier. And that’s a big nope from her, as soon as he starts turning she pushes everything she has into not being there anymore. She gets a good view of his glowing red eye before she is launched backwards.

Harry gasps as she quickly sits up in her bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She can already feel the angry burning in her scar, she's so dead!

"Honey? Are you all right?" The mirror asks her and she waves her hand through the air.

"Fine, I'm fine." She gasps out. "Just a nightmare."

"If you're sure honey, do you think that you can get back to sleep or do you want to get an early start to the day?" The mirror asks her.

"Early start, I'm not risking going back to... that." She says as she forces her shaking legs to work under her... then almost falls face-first into the deep pool of water that had apparently appeared overnight.

"Okay honey, if you're sure then grab that egg and take a listen." The mirror says before a galleon drops into the water and sinks to the bottom. Well if that's not a clue then she doesn't know what is, so she grabs the golden egg and dives in.