Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

The Room of Hidden Things

Dracaena, Sebastian and Ominis rushed their breakfast the following morning and hurried to the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy before the clock struck eight on Tuesday morning. They only had an hour before Sebastian had to leave for History of Magic, and Dracaena intended to make this hour worth it.

With her partners standing guard at either end of the corridor to watch for unwanted presences, she stood before the blank stretch of wall that typically revealed the entrance to their favourite space. Drawing a steadying breath, Dracaena set her feet apart and allowed her mind to float, reaching within herself for that innate feeling of rightness, of slotting two pieces of a puzzle together, of straightening a crooked painting, of two sheaves of silk flowing over each other. A gentle warmth suffused her body, and she let out her breath, opening her eyes.

She wasn't quite sure what she should be doing. Searching, yes, but for what? An object, a sense of connection, or something far more insubstantial? She bit her lip and bore down on her concentration as it wavered in light of her uncertainty.

Please, she thought. Please show us the way. We need to know, we need to find it. We need to find you. Help us, please, it's so important, we promise not to misuse you or anything like that, please just let us find you so we can move you to a safe place...

Nothing happened, and Dracaena sighed, her shoulders slumping as her magic retreated. Sebastian looked over his shoulder and hurried to her side.

"Anything?" he asked, as Ominis joined them.

"Nothing," she said, miserably. "Bassy, if I can't find it, then it's hopeless."

"Nothing's hopeless," Ominis soothed, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Dove, maybe it just takes time to attune to it?"

"Maybe," she said, staring at the wall. "But what if it doesn't work that way? Usually when I really need my magic to do something, it does, like when I called the dragon to us. I need it to work now."

"Tell me what you did," Sebastian urged. "Every detail."

Dracaena sighed and relayed her silent pleas, feeling remarkably foolish as she did so. Sebastian, however, looked thoughtful.

"Didn't Fotheringham say Ancient Magic wants to be used?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Maybe... and I'm not saying we will use it, it's way too dangerous for that, but if you made out like you wanted to, like you wanted to use it to make things better, like stopping the Gaunts and getting rid of the Ashwinders... hell, even just making sure we got good marks, that might help?"

"Good point," Ominis said. "I've always been more amiable if I feel I can be useful."

"Either that, or our Drac promises you a little tongue action," Sebastian chuckled, then winced as Ominis cuffed the back of his head, his cheeks flushing. Dracaena huffed a soft laugh and refocused, drawing her magic back to the surface, closing her eyes.

She wasn't so stupid as to believe that the Ancient Magic that dwelled within her could be duped so easily, and she took a moment to consider the implications of what she really wanted. A chance to do over, a chance to start again, a chance to love her partners from the start, to stop Sebastian from suffering, hell, to stop Anne from being cursed in the first place. To be beside Ominis when he needed her, to be the fourth musketeer of the mischief-makers of Hogwarts, to be honest with them from the start about how much she loved them. Seven whole years at Hogwarts, seven years of magic and wonder and love.

Knowing her partners as they once were, unburdened with the trials of life, the pain of Anne's curse, offering a refuge from Solomon's abuse and the ire of the Gaunts. Spending their summers with Gran, not in Feldcroft. Growing up together, growing old together...