While staring into the large mirror in Dumbledore's office, I could see myself—but slightly differently. I was smiling, even though I knew for certain I was not. Val rested on my shoulder, even though he wasn't actually there when I checked. But the most heart-wrenching image was the unicorn. I clutched my chest, watching as my reflection gently brushed her beautiful mane. She silently lowered herself to her knees, letting me continue more easily.
I knew this was some kind of illusion, but I couldn't turn away. I bit my quivering lip and gripped at my heart, just seeing the unicorn and I enjoying each other's company tearing at something inside me. I stared into this sweet dream, silently wishing it might come true if I just looked long enough. That's when a hand gently rested on my shoulder, making me jump in surprise.
I turned to see Dumbledore staring into the mirror as well. "Truly a marvel," he whispered. "The Mirror of Erised… it does not show one's reflection in a normal sense…" He glanced down at me with a benign smile. "What do you see?"
I looked back at the mirror—the image of me standing beside the unicorn I had once held together in death's embrace. I nervously toyed with my shirt, feeling the vial underneath. "The unicorn alive…" I muttered, not able to say more.
Dumbledore nodded calmly. "As I'm sure you already understand, this is no more than an illusion… only showing what you want to see."
I sighed under my breath, that last inkling of hope that she might still be alive vanishing before my eyes. Dumbledore gently waved his wand, placing a white sheet over the mirror, blocking it from view. "Apologies for my tardiness… many questions are being raised over the newest victim."
I snapped my head toward Dumbledore, only now hearing this. "What? Who? When?" I asked quickly.
He gently waved his hand for me to calm down and take a seat. I took a breath and sat opposite him as he explained.
"As for who… it appears that Ms. Chiara Lobosca has also been petrified. It happened late last night while she was looking through the telescope at the Astronomy Tower…"
My mouth fell open, and my stomach sank. I gulped, breathing growing more erratic under the weight of this news.
"Do you perhaps think this of me, Headmaster?" I asked, the guilt eating me alive.
Dumbledore gave a reassuring smile and shook his head slowly. "No… I never suspected you to begin with, Lucas," he said warmly.
Still, I wasn't convinced. The gnawing feeling in the back of my mind only grew louder.
"I only wanted to know if you perhaps heard anything strange this year…" he continued, leaning back in his chair.
I calmed enough to answer, though uncertainty still plagued me. Everything I'd found so far felt incriminating.
"I'm sorry, but the attacks have only happened while I was inside my special room. I spoke with Merlin about it, but he was left at a loss as well." I carefully avoided mentioning Salazar's room or the 'instructions' meant for his bloodline.
Dumbledore raised a brow, clearly noting I shouldn't have needed the special room again until tonight. "You were resting in your special room last night?"
"I was out late, and curfew had already passed. Rather than risk getting in trouble, I thought it best to stay there."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, smiling faintly with a soft chuckle. "Indeed, a good way to avoid being caught. Haha…"
He stood, walking toward a bookshelf tucked beside the window. "Perhaps this shall help…"
There it was—the old, worn Sorting Hat from my first year. I'd seen it sort new students again this year.
"I'm already in my House," I said, confused. "I don't want to switch."
The Sorting Hat chuckled. "No, I always choose correctly. Where you are is where you should be."
Dumbledore added, "Think of him as a silent observer. He is bound to stay silent about what he sees from others—but not from you. If you need true proof that you are not to blame for these attacks, then you shall have it for yourself."
A weight lifted off my shoulders. I grasped the raggedy hat and placed it atop my head.
"Thank you," I said, grateful for the reassurance—especially with another dangerous night approaching.
Dumbledore watched the boy leave his office with a soft smile. He knew Lucas wasn't responsible, especially after that test with the mirror. But his connection to the real culprit couldn't be ignored. If the pattern continued, another attack was likely tonight. Dumbledore sighed in worry. The Chamber of Secrets had surely been opened again, and this time, even 'purebloods' weren't safe if they were too close to 'Mudbloods.'
"Why are you wearing that old thing?" Draco asked as I sat down at the table. Food appeared on my plate before I could answer.
I shrugged. "Dumbledore wanted me to wear it for a while."
Pansy looked up from her books and frowned. "Perhaps he thinks you're behind the newest attack," she muttered, returning to her reading.
I held back a scoff—since part of me still wasn't sure myself.
"There was another attack? Who?" Draco asked.
I sighed. "A Hufflepuff girl. Chiara something."
Pansy answered before I could continue. "Chiara Lobosca."
Draco scoffed. "Well, makes sense. She protects Mudbloods." He glanced toward the Gryffindor table—probably at Hermione.
After smirking to himself, he perked up. "Oh! Did you hear? We're having Dueling practice in a few weeks!"
I paused my eating, intrigued. "It could prove useful. Want to partner up?" I asked, looking between Draco and Pansy.
Pansy nodded casually, but Draco's eyes gleamed. "I'd rather duel Potter. Put him in his place."
By mid-December, the Dueling Club's first meeting was finally here.
The large room held a rectangular platform marked with moon phases to show distance from center. Students from every House lined the walls.
"Looks like it's a school-wide event, not just a class," Draco said. Val slithered into my sleeve, eager to watch people he hadn't seen before.
"Well, it's understandable. The last attack happened the night after Chiara's. Some news boy from Gryffindor," Pansy mumbled, unfazed. "No one we care about was hurt."
"I'm just excited to duel," Draco added, glancing at the other Slytherins. They spoke with ease—so different from the rest of the anxious crowd.
That's when Professor Lockhart entered in a Dueling uniform that looked like fencing attire. I frowned, remembering some of Quirrell's fencing-based spellcasting training—still the best I'd had, especially compared to Lockhart.
"Welcome, students!" Lockhart announced with flair. All eyes turned to him—especially the girls, who beamed with excitement. I caught Professor Snape rolling his eyes behind him as he entered.
Lockhart leapt onto the platform, beaming. "Can everyone see me? Hear me?" Girls nodded eagerly. He muttered something under his breath I couldn't quite catch.
"In light of recent events, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this Dueling Club. To train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves—much like I have, numerous times. For full details, see my published works!"
He chuckled at his own joke. Some of the girls laughed too, but Draco, Pansy, and I shared a look of disbelief. Was this really going to help anyone?