Pluto Projector.

Chapter Sixteen.

"So, Draco Malfoy indirectly admitted Lord Voldemort— Sorry, Ron— has recruited him as a Death Eater?" (Y/n) repeated for clarification, pausing only when Ron winced, resulting in an eye-roll from Hermione.

"You don't believe me either," Harry frowned.

"I never said that," (Y/n) said, looking up from one of her own journals she had finally opted to thoroughly read. "In fact, I think it is very possible," she stated. She had no plans on admitting she knew Draco was, in fact, a Death Eater at that very time. "But, you have to keep them—" (Y/n) nodded at Ron and Hermione, "—in mind too... I mean, you thought Snape was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone in your first year. You thought Draco was the Slytherin Heir in your second year. You thought Sirius Black had truly betrayed your parents in your third year. And you... believed you could catch a break in your fourth year."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," (Y/n) dragged out, "sometimes, it is okay not to jump to immediate conclusions and sit back— or work harder— and let things play out."

"Exactly," Hermione agreed. "For now, we really ought to be cautious with that textbook, Harry—"

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. It isn't like Tom Riddle's diary," Harry huffed.

"What textbook?" (Y/n) asked.

"Slughorn gave Harry and I a couple of the old Advanced Potion-Making textbooks and Harry's has writing in it," Ron explained.

"Like... little annotation?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed.

"Well, what is the harm, Hermione? It's a free pass, no?"

"Harry should be doing his own work!" Hermione said heatedly.

"Come on— It's not like this book is going to give me the homework answers," Harry huffed. "That would be useful, though—"

"Harry!" Hermione seethed. "If you aren't going to actually learn, how are you going to be prepared to be a, what, Auror?"

"What is Potions even used for in Auror training?" Ron wondered.

"Antidotes? Healing Draughts? The occasional Polyjuice?" Hermione said, looking dismayed the boys didn't know this.

"Speaking of Antidotes, I have an essay on them..." (Y/n) murmured.

"Did you have Potions today?" Hermione asked. (Y/n) nodded. "What'd you guys do?"

"Draught of the Living Dead or something like that—"

"Draught of the Living Death," Hermione corrected matter-of-factly.

"Same difference," (Y/n) murmured.

"Did you guys have the chance to earn a phial of Liquid Luck?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," (Y/n) said, reaching into her pocket and fishing out the phial. "I think I might drill a hole through the cork so that I can wear it as a necklace and, you know, never lose it."

"That's smart," Harry murmured, holding up his own phial of Felix Felicis. "But with the luck this has, who can say it can get lost?" He tossed it into the air and caught it, making Ron, Hermione, and (Y/n) take a sharp intake of breath.

"Don't do that!" Ron hissed.

On Saturday evening, right after her conference with Dumbledore, (Y/n) made to leave the headmaster's office only to crash right into Harry, who had risen his hand to knock and almost pounded (Y/n)'s head as a result.

"Hello, Harry," (Y/n) greeted pleasantly.

"Hi," Harry smiled. Dumbledore looked at the two.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Sit down... Perhaps (Y/n) would like to join us for later lessons. I believe she will play quite the crucial part." Harry and (Y/n) both looked at Dumbledore before looking at one another and shrugging. Harry entered the room and (Y/n) exited after him. She was taken back down the moving stairs— Ones she was never quite sure she would get used to as they were spiralled and far different from escalators.
(Y/n)'s hand twitched to open the package that Hoshi had brought her that morning— one with a narcissus stamped on the outside of it— but she knew she couldn't open it so out in the public eye. Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure lurking in the shadows that made (Y/n) jump out of her skin.