Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

Mistranslation

The Easter holidays came to an abrupt end with a spring storm that rattled the glass of Hogwarts' many windows in their panes, rain driving down in torrents so that the lake swelled, its banks bursting and drowning the paths outside of the school forcing the Thestral-drawn carriages to fly half of the way from the station to the castle, and many of the Slytherin students feared their common room would flood. Fortunately for Dracaena and her partners, the Room of Requirement was shielded from such troubles.

It seemed decidedly strange to return to their school days on Monday morning, heading down to breakfast as if nothing was amiss as thunder rumbled beyond the rain-streaked panes, as if they hadn't spent the last six months or so embarking on more and more secretive and perilous adventures and escaping relatively unscathed on the other side, if a bit more world weary than they had been before.

Charms with Professor Ronen was as entertaining as it always had been, even if he began their lesson with a short lecture reminding them of the importance of their NEWTs and offering anyone who wished it additional instruction ahead of their exams. He looked very pointedly in Leander's direction, and Dracaena was delighted to realise the gangly redhead looked very pale and ill, as if he'd discovered a very large, panther-like shit in his pillowcase that morning.

Dracaena took the opportunity over the next few free hours to catch up on a little revision, first with Sebastian, then with Ominis, the three of them spending the hour after lunch quizzing each other on their various knowledge gaps before preparing to head to their double Defence Against the Dark Arts class. But just as they were about to leave the Room, Sebastian stopped dead.

"Occlumency," he said, his face draining of colour. "Merlin's arse... I forgot!"

Dracaena froze, Ominis going very still beside her.

"Hecat can't test us right away," she managed, her hand going to her mouth. "We haven't practiced in ages!"

"We can't go," Sebastian said, staring around as if a solution to this new danger might suddenly present itself. "If she sees anything we've done..."

"I'll be fine," Ominis said. "I have practice aplenty."

"Bully for you," Sebastian snapped. "I don't! Drac doesn't!"

"So stay here," Ominis said, his expression firm. "I'll tell Hecat you've had a funny turn about Anne, and Dracaena stayed with you to make sure you're alright." His brows lowered as Sebastian clenched his fists. "Unless you have a better idea?"

"He's right," Dracaena said, quickly. "Ominis, thank you. Bassy, you and I should take this time to practice, we need to make sure she can't get into our heads."

Ominis gave a curt nod, kissed her cheek and headed out.

Sebastian folded his arms, glowering at the floor.

"Like I'd use my sister as an excuse," he grumbled. "Prick."

"Bassy, don't," Dracaena touched his arm. "It's a good idea, we're nowhere near prepared. You came up with the idea yourself you know, before we went off looking for the markers."

Sebastian made a face. "Yeah, whatever. He didn't have to say it like that."

Dracaena bit down on a sharp rebuke and drew breath. "Regardless, he's right. We need to practice."

"Yeah, we do," Sebastian muttered. "But I'm more curious about what you said the other day. About Fotheringham not telling us everything about how he got the Source, when no one's meant to be able to unless they're a Peverell. It can't be true, it doesn't make any sense."