[ sixteen, three-headed sentinel ]

[The three are walking up a staircase in the Grand Staircase tower. A railing pulls in, Hermione looks, but continues walking.]

Ron: I'm telling you, it's spooky. She knows more about you than you do.

Aemma: Who doesn't?

When she was but a girl, Aemma hadn't understood how saddening it was that everyone who surrounded her had more knowledge about her than she could ever dream of. Like a dragon, she'd guarded every new discovery, whether positive or negative, close to her heart and away from people's prying fingers, willing herself to remember every scrap of detail thrown her way. It was only with time that she came to the realisation that her life was nought but a zoo exhibit, one people were utterly enthralled by ━ she could do nothing but wait patiently behind a cage whilst passersby recalled the events that had led her there; some more absurd than others.

Having grown up in a family where privacy was but an absurd concept and people delighted in making assumptions ( the worst, the better ) about you, Aegon's sense of kinship towards his niece only increased. Had he been sober enough, he would have been taken aback by the bravery he showed by taking a different stand compared to his kin regarding one of Rhaenyra's children, but alas, his brain was far too muddled. "How do people know so much about you?" He queried.

"In the Wizarding World, growing up, every child is told the story of the Girl Who Lived," Ron explained. "Of course, it's often embellished and, as with every other story, the truth gets lost along the way. The thing is, what happened that night shaped Wizarding History one way or another, and many people wrote about it, including the event in some of the most popular books, which Hermione happened to have read." He hugged his slightly embarrassed girlfriend as he and Aemma gazed at her with twin reassuring smiles, reminding her that she'd never have to be ashamed about her thirst for knowledge, regardless of the topic.

Rhaena believed that the whole situation was twisted and wrong. Whilst her sister was trapped in what could only be deemed as a prison with heartless jailers who aimed to break her and her spirit, there was a world out there singing her praises and lauding her actions, those who took a tragedy and turned it into a matter of celebration without a care for its only survivor. Tales and History Books had robbed Aemma of the little privacy she had left, a rare commodity she'd unfortunately known little about growing up.

[The staircase shudders and begins to move. The three grab the railings.]

Ron: Ahh!

[Hermione gasps]

Aemma: What's happening?

Hermione: The staircases change, remember?

Aemma: Well, how lucky we are to experience such an amazing feature. [says sarcastically under her breath]

Anxiety gripped the vast majority of people's hearts upon the stair's independent movement, for even if they'd once witnessed it from afar when introduced to them, seeing it close by was another matter altogether. Fearing the bottomless drop below and thus the safety of the children, most people struggled to so much as blink as they kept a vigilant eye on the three young ones.

Baela, as brave as she was, was among these nervous individuals, for as far as she could see, there was nothing preventing a horrible outcome if any of the Trio stumbled over the railing. Suddenly, the Quartet's silent implication regarding Hogwarts started to make sense, for the school was far from the safest place for its pupils, whether it acknowledged it or not.

The atmosphere that held the people hostage, however, didn't linger long, for soon they were snickering at Aemma's sarcastic remark, finding comfort in the former princess' sass that never failed to make light of any situation regardless of how dreary.

Thankful for this lighthearted intermittence, nobody but Daemon wondered if this was something she'd inherited from her birth father, a simple trait she'd developed out of necessity, or one that had followed her from her previous life. His heart could have readily accepted two of the three answers, but the second one would have enraged him, for it would have been further proof that Aemma deemed it necessary to defend herself somewhere that should have otherwise been her home.

[The staircase stops, leading to a corridor.]

Aemma: [taps Ron] Let's go this way.

Ron: Before the staircase moves again.

[They all open a door and walk into a spooky, dark, and deserted corridor.]

Aemma: Does anyone feel like we shouldn't be here?

Hermione: We're not supposed to be here. This is the 3rd floor. It's forbidden.

Rhaenys subtly clung to her husband, the Headmaster's ominous warning coming back to her unbidden. Years of experience allowed her to mask the dread that suddenly enveloped her from all surrounding parties as she finally took seriously what she'd initially interpreted as the old man's bid to keep troublemakers away. Her eyes scanned the foreboding surroundings that threatened to house dangers untold, her heart clenching in horror as she thought about the hazardous situation her beloved granddaughter found herself in.

Fear swept through Rhaenyra as she processed her daughter's peril, for she, too, had paid attention to the Headmaster's announcements. The newly crowned queen, known for her poise and usually composed demeanour, looked close to fainting as she thought about the dangers her sweet girl might encounter the longer she dallied in such a hazardous part of the Castle. "Why did you three have to venture there?" She almost moaned in distress, uncaring of the crack in her facade.

Of all the answers Rhaenyra both dreaded and expected to hear, Ron's bark of laughter was by far the last that she'd prepared for. "Oh, you and McGonagall would get along just fine. Let's just say that, for some reason, we're always in the right place at the right time," Ron replied, smiling wanly. He couldn't yet mention how they'd all been Albus' puppets all along, and what they thought to be coincidences were nothing more but a product of the man's careful planning and machination.

Befuddled by the wizard's answer, Daeron blinked at him repeatedly. "You call that the right place? For what exactly, besides more trouble?" He never thought he would have met anyone more cryptic than his kin, but this experience kept on challenging his beliefs.

A chilling silence was all that followed as the Quartet had been sworn to secrecy by Death and couldn't so much as hint at any future events in any way whatsoever, a most displeasing fact for someone like Aemma and Neville, who deeply empathised with their former family and didn't wish to see them in distress on their behalf.

[Suddenly, a flame lights on a tall stone support. At that moment, Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, comes running in and meows. The group jumps.]

Aemma: Let's go.

[Mrs. Norris meows]

Hermione: It's Filch's cat!

Just the mere sight of the feline brought back memories Neville had fought hard to suppress, recollections that engulfed him like a tidal wave and erased all his surroundings, leaving him with a cacophony of screams.

In the past year, Mrs Norris had become an enemy of the Rebellion, a demon who'd never faltered in alerting the Carrows of their whereabouts, forever dooming plenty of good people to the wicked ways of their jailers. Neville had lost count of how many had had to suffer terrible torture sessions because Filch and his cat had easily sided with the new Administration, eagerly providing names and 'misdeeds' only to act deaf when the screaming began, a little smirk tugging at the man's lips for a job well done.

When news had reached them that McGonagall had offered Filch his old position, Neville had half destroyed the kitchen, his infamous patience shattering like the souls of those they'd been too late to rescue. Whilst the new Headmaster's argument about Filch's rehabilitation and lack of housing might have been sound, Neville couldn't entirely forget the way his hand had hovered above his wand all throughout the meeting, something within him pleading to unleash the wrath he, as a Leader, had had to keep under wraps for so many months.

Aemma: Run!

[The trio run through the corridor, flames are lit up on the stone supports, one by one, as they run past. They get to the end of the corridor, to a door.]

Aemma: Quick! Let's hide through that door!

[Aemma grabs the handle, but it's locked.]

Aemma: It's locked!

Ron: That's it! We're done for!

Hermione: Oh, move over! [pushes through and pulls out her wand, aiming it at the lock] Alohomora. [The door's lock lifts up magically and it opens.] Get in. [They bustle in.]

It wasn't in Otto's character to admit when he had underestimated something, but he had indeed done so with magic; what had started as plain disbelief and disdain had now morphed into a certain level of interest that bordered on obsession. Whereas most people were merely in awe of the magical feats performed before their eyes, the Hightower man couldn't cease to picture all that such spells could bring to their cause. Even something many would have deemed harmless, such as unlocking a door without a key, would have proved to be essential, for he could have genuinely controlled everything then, once and for all.

Whilst excited by the magic, Corlys had never been happier none of them could perform it, for he had noticed the troublesome and greedy glint in Otto's eyes. It wasn't hard to understand the man's trail of thoughts, and the Lord of Tides had to bite back a laugh, for the former Hand would have never succeeded in turning the Quartet against Rhaenyra and her kin. 'No,' He thought to himself. 'Magic is in well-deserving hands, and that's how it should remain. Such power is far too great and tempting for those who play the Game of Thrones.'

Fascinated by what Hermione had just performed on the screen, Daemon slightly tilted his head to the side. "Does such a spell unlock every door?" He queried, forever enthralled by a practice all of them had thought long dead.

"Not exactly," Hermione replied. "Certain charms can be used, and sometimes even layered, to prevent someone's successful break-in through the use of the spell." A chill went down her back when she recalled 'The Battle of the Department of Mysteries' and her failed attempt at opening the Love Chamber, a blessing in disguise.

Ron: Alohomora?

Aemma: How could I forget it? [slaps her forehead]

Hermione: [to Aemma, smiling kindly] I'm sure you would have remembered. [to Ron] Standard Book of Spells, Chapter 7.

It might not have been the epic friendship they would one day be known for, but the seeds had been planted, and Helaena couldn't help but smile at the two young girls who would one day fight through blood, sweat, and tears to ensure the future generation would never have to suffer like they did.

What a tragic fate awaited these young children ( and Neville ): disillusioned and abandoned by those who came before them ( even those they loved the most ), forced to bear the weight of a whole community on their shoulders because no one else would, and turned into soldiers at such a young age, only to fight a war wherein they lost part of themselves.

Just as much as Helaena wished to weep for them, she admired their strength and tenacity, their ability to fight the encroaching darkness and unite people under a common cause. As she gazed around her, she couldn't help but think that Westeros could use people like them, that they could inspire many and forever shape the future of a land that had always struggled thus far.

[Filch arrives at the start of the corridor with a light. Mrs. Norris looks at him.]

Filch: Anyone here, my sweet? [Mrs. Norris meows] Come on. [they leave the corridor.]

Hermione: Filch is gone.

Ron: Probably thinks this door's locked.

Hermione: It was locked.

Aemma: And for good reason. [Ron and Hermione turn to stand with Aemma. There is a massively huge three headed dog sleeping in front of them. The dog begins to wake. It growls, yawns, and growls more...noticing the intruders.]

A high-pitched scream ripped from Alicent's throat as she beheld the monstrosity on the screen before her. Ever since they'd gathered here, she'd witnessed many a thing, but nothing that warranted a full-body shudder and horror-filled tears like the beast currently facing three unharmed children, a creature of terror that would have indeed haunted her nightmares.

Regardless of their heresy, no child should ever incur such danger. Thus, as Alicent prayed for their safety while clinging to her pendant, she also pleaded to her Gods for a swift judgement of those who'd seen it fit to put them in such peril by hiding such a hideous and dangerous creature within the walls of what should have otherwise been a safe haven.

Most people were shocked and rightfully taken aback by the creature's presence in the castle, a being that now threatened the lives of three children who'd inadvertently disturbed its lair. The fear for the kids' well-being was a common denominator amongst many. Unfortunately, they all silently suffered the curse of being powerless in another life-or-death scenario while trying to remain composed despite the fear-inducing situation.

All: AHHHHHHH! [The three bolt, running out of the door. They turn quickly to shut the door and battle against the dog. They get the door shut and run.]

Rhaenyra exhaled heavily, the deathly grip on her husband loosening as she composed herself now that her sweet girl was finally safe and away from that creature. Her relief, however, was short-lived, for it soon made way to anger, boiling hot wrath towards those who'd thought it wise to put children in peril by hiding something as dangerous as that beast within the halls of Hogwarts, a place that should have been safe and not riddled with constant dangers.

Still furious, the queen couldn't help but wonder how people could laud the Headmaster if four children had almost met their end in such a short period. Did the man even care about his pupils, or was it all just a farce, a mask like the ones oft seen at Court?

Still flabbergasted by what they'd just seen, Daeron shook his head in disbelief. "And to think Hagrid had the gall to say that Hogwarts was one of the safest places on Earth," He actually enjoyed the man's character; however, he couldn't get over the monstrosity they'd just witnessed nor the fact that both of his childhood best friends could have easily died at the school the man sung praises about.

As much as he adored Hagrid, Ron knew Daeron had a point, for Hagrid's interpretation of danger wasn't oft reliable. "Well, at least we're all still alive." He tried, only to be subjected to several glares on behalf of all those who'd ever cared about Lucerys.

[They return to the Gryffindor Common Room. They are breathless.]

Ron: What do they think they're doing? Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school.

Hermione: You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?

Several people nodded knowingly, for they also noticed something peculiar regardless of the tense situation. They couldn't exactly fault the children for having missed it, for their lives were at stake. That said, these very individuals applauded Hermione's keen sense of observation and her ability to study her surroundings even when the situation was most dire. It wasn't every day that someone her age would show such talents without proper training, which they all assumed vastly differed from their universe.

Cole was aware of his orders, yet he couldn't bear to sway Rhaenyra's daughter, no matter how much a part of him yearned to, for then, years of repressed memories would have come to the forefront of his mind. Her observant friend, however, was a good alternative: someone who embodied many of the attributes Cole had always been attracted to his whole life ( aside from the Valyrian looks ). It wouldn't have been an easy feat, but Criston had faith the Gods would have aided him in his mission, and their side would have had a witch of their own sooner rather than later.

Ron: I wasn't looking at its feet! I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice. There were three! [they begin to climb the stairs to the dorms.]

Hermione: It was standing on a trapdoor. Which means it wasn't there by accident. It's guarding something.

Aemma: Guarding something?

Some might have called it 'motherly instincts', others simple intuition, but the fact was that, within a heartbeat, Rhaenyra already knew that her daughter would have been up to no good.

As a child, Lucerys had always been inquisitive, moving like a ghost across the Halls of whatever Keep they'd be residing in to gather as many secrets as she could muster. Her sweet daughter would always embrace most challenges and make it a point to master anything and everything people had doubted her capable of. She didn't know when to let go, for when Lucerys put her mind to something, it was impossible to sway her, a characteristic Rhaenyra thought she might have in common with her dearest Aemma.

Because of all this and more, Rhaenyra knew Aemma, although a reincarnation of her sweet girl, wouldn't have stopped thinking about the trapdoor. "Do not tell me you put yourself in danger and visited that place again," She pleaded, her tone resigned, for she already knew the answer. When her sweet girl didn't reply, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, by the Gods, I don't think my heart will be able to take it."

Not everyone was bemoaning Aemma's inability to let things be or her restless spirit. Aemond was smiling at his beloved and silently preaching her courage regardless of the dangers that awaited her. After all, he had bonded with Vhagar at the same age, risking his life in the process. Delusionally, he interpreted such behaviour as a sign from the Seven that they belonged together.

Hermione: That's right. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled. [turns and leaves, shutting the door to her dormitory.]

Ron: She needs to sort out her priorities.

The heavy atmosphere suddenly lifted as most Westerosi citizens burst into laughter at Hermione's chiding of her two companions ━ dreading expulsion above death sounded beyond comical to most.

Aegon couldn't contain himself; his loud laughter drowned out most of the sounds surrounding him. "Had you not brutally slain her companion, I'd wager you two would get along splendidly," He guffawed as he briefly addressed Aemond. After all, it had been him who, in their younger years, had dreaded a ban from the library above mother's wrath due to his and Jace's behaviour.

Hermione pursed her lips and twitched her nose. "I know I had a stick up my ass when I was younger, but even I had standards," She replied just as brutally as when she'd addressed Malfoy during their Third Year, uncaring of what anybody else thought on the matter while increasing the laughter that now echoed within the room.

"Oh, I knew I liked her for a reason," Wheezed Baela, tears of mirth running down her cheeks as she beheld the girl staring judgmentally at Aemond. "Now I really need to get to know all of them." She told her sister, who swiftly agreed while attempting to compose herself.

[Aemma nods in agreement]

Aemma: Give it a few seconds. [looks amusedly at the door Hermione disappeared behind]

Ron: [looking a little lost] For what?

[Suddenly Hermione exits the room, taking ahold of Aemma's wrist and drags her towards the dormitory]

Aemma: [to Ron] It was nice knowing you my friend! [says dramatically, reaching out with an arm]

Ron: You will be missed! [shakes his head, placing an hand atop his heart]

Hermione: Children, children [sighs in exasperation, rolling her eyes]

Many people yearned for a friendship like Aemma and Ron's, a camaraderie that blossomed quickly and grew steadily by the minute. Those who didn't know the duo and all the hurdles they had to overcome throughout the years became almost jealous of the pair and their steady bond that wouldn't have been tainted by politics and outside forces' machinations. Their friendship nearly appeared idyllic, something to strive towards and pray to the Gods for in a world filled with backstabbers and liars aplenty, an impossible find yet just as heartwarming as magic itself.

author's note.      I'm back! I didn't disappear, I promise. Life's just become rather chaotic lately, so my updates might become less scheduled than they used to be. I'll still do my best to keep to my schedule, but I can't make any promises.