Lucas leaned against the stone railing just above the courtyard. Students trickled below, chatting, laughing, trudging off to classes.
His eyes, however, were fixed on one in particular.
Harry Potter walked alone across the cobblestones, shoulders still hunched, but his stride was steadier.
Lucas exhaled through his nose, a ghost of amusement tugging at one corner of his mouth.
"Huh," he murmured. "Finally."
----
Ron sat on the edge of an unused desk in an empty Charms classroom, arms crossed, eyes flicking between his twin brothers as they finished recounting the story.
"Nothing at all?" he asked, frowning.
Fred shook his head. "Not a scrap."
George added, "Clean as a prefect's drawer. Too clean, honestly. Bed was made. Books in a neat row. Not even a piece of lint under the mattress. And you know how we check."
Ron frowned deeper. "That doesn't make sense. He's hiding something. He has to be."
Fred paced a slow circle around a desk. "We even checked for concealment charms. Nothing visible or traceable. No magical signatures strong enough to matter. Either he's not hiding anything…"
"Or he's hiding it somewhere else," George finished.
Ron's stomach twisted. He didn't like this. He didn't like any of it.
"You're sure he didn't catch you?" Ron asked.
Fred snorted. "Please. We're professionals."
"Still," George muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "There was something weird about the air in that room. Quiet in the wrong way, you know? Like no one was living there."
Ron stood up. "You don't think he set a trap?"
"We'd know by now if he had," Fred said. "We're fine."
If his room didn't shine any light on what Lucas was up to then he had to find something else, or someone else.
----
The Great Hall buzzed with midday chatter, plates clinking, laughter rising, the mingled smells of roast potatoes and fresh bread drifting over the long tables. Students were scattered across the benches, some halfway through pumpkin pasties, others buried in books as they ate.
At the Hufflepuff table, Susan sat quietly near the end, alone, nibbling at a slice of apple and reading through a folded page of notes. She was doing her best to ignore the hum of conversation around her.
She didn't notice Ron until his shadow fell across her.
He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, looming over her, fists clenched.
Susan looked up. "Ron?"
"You were close with him," Ron said, voice flat and too loud.
Conversations around them slowed.
Susan blinked. "What are you...?"
"Lucas," he snapped, pointing a finger down at her. "You knew him. You spent hours with him. Don't try to act like that didn't mean anything."
"I don't talk to him anymore," she said, calm but firm.
"But you did," Ron said, louder. Heads turned. "You were always sitting together. He trusted you. So don't act like you don't know what he's hiding."
Susan set her notes aside. She didn't stand up yet, but her voice did.
"I'm not hiding anything."
Ron scoffed. "Right. Because you just happen to go quiet every time someone mentions him. You think no one notices?"
Susan met his stare directly. "What I think is that you're looking for someone to blame because you're scared of what you don't understand."
Ron stepped closer. "He's dangerous. And I think you know exactly what he's up to."
Susan stood now, not backing down. Her voice carried just enough to hold the hall's attention.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"You're defending him?"
"I'm defending the truth," she said. "You're accusing him without evidence, cornering me in front of everyone. That says more about you than it does about him."
Ron's face twisted. "Did he promise you something? Did he make you feel special before he disregarded you like everyone else?"
Susan's cheeks flushed, but her jaw set. "He was honest with me. More than I can say for what you're doing now."
Ron's hand went to his wand.
Gasps fluttered through the nearby benches.
Susan didn't reach for hers.
She didn't flinch.
"Go on then," she said. "Is that how Gryffindors solve problems now? Intimidation and spectacle?"
Before Ron could respond, before the wand's tip could raise.
"Lower it."
The voice cut through the Great Hall like a thunderclap.
Lucas stood at the entrance, the aurors flanking his sides.
His expression wasn't angry, but the air around him changed.
All eyes snapped toward him.
____He had watched everything from the beginning. Ron was exactly how he wanted him to be. He naturally knew that someone had entered his room, he just had to wait and let nature take it's course. With how unstable Ron had become it hadn't taken long.____
Susan glanced his way but stayed where she was, shoulders back.
Lucas began to walk forward. Each step was slow. Purposeful.
Ron's hand hovered near his wand, eyes flickering between the two.
Lucas stopped just a few paces away. "Now."
Ron didn't move.
Lucas turned to Susan, his tone softening. "Are you alright?"
Susan nodded once, the calm returning to her voice. "I'm fine."
Lucas faced Ron again. "You're done."
Ron's chest rose and fell sharply. "No. I'm just getting started."
A few students whispered.
"You think you're clever," Ron hissed. "Always one step ahead. You walk around like you've got the whole castle wrapped around your wand."
Lucas didn't blink.
"...but you're a snake. You use people. You used her."
Lucas didn't speak.
"She's still scared of you," Ron said, pushing forward.
Susan cut in, sharply: "I'm not."
Ron glanced at her.
"I'm not afraid of him," she said, loud enough to echo off the enchanted ceiling. "But you? Right now? You're terrifying."
That silenced even the far benches.
Ron's mouth opened, then closed. His wand lowered an inch.
"Next time," Lucas said quietly, "think before you try to burn someone at the stake."
There was no anger in his tone. Just cold finality.
Ron's jaw clenched. He turned and stormed away without another word, or he tried because the same cold voice made him stop in his tracks.
"Where do you think you're going? Shouldn't you apologise?"
The chatter hadn't returned yet. The moment froze again, like someone had cast Petrificus Totalus on the entire student body.
Ron turned slowly. "Excuse me?"
Lucas stood still in the same spot, his arms relaxed at his sides, but his eyes razor-sharp. "You pointed your wand at someone who did nothing wrong. You called her a liar. You made a spectacle of it. In public. So I ask again, shouldn't you apologise?"
Heads swiveled between the two boys.
Ron's face flushed deep red. "You don't get to..."
"I'm not asking," Lucas interrupted, his tone unbending. "I'm giving you a chance. One chance. To do the right thing."
Susan's eyes flicked between them, her shoulders squared, but her expression guarded. 'He still cares about me'
Fred and George stood behind Ron now, but even they hesitated, reading the room, watching the dynamics shift like unstable magic.
"You're trying to humiliate me," Ron muttered. "In front of everyone."
Lucas tilted his head. "No, Ron. You did that yourself."
The words hit like a slap.
"If you don't apologise," Lucas continued coolly, "then everyone here will remember something else. They'll remember that you pulled your wand on a girl who never lifted hers. That you yelled at her because you couldn't find answers somewhere else. That you cracked under pressure. That when you were confronted, you ran like a chicken."
Lucas took a step closer. His voice didn't rise, but it got quieter and somehow more dangerous. Frank and Albert both took out their wand.
"You want to play the righteous friend? The brave Gryffindor? Then act like one."
A few murmurs rippled from nearby tables. Even Ravenclaws were watching now with narrowed eyes and biting curiosity.
Ron stood motionless, eyes darting, breathing hard. His voice cracked. Then abruptly his eyes shifted. A small push was all it took, for barely concealed anger to take over. "You think you're so clever."
"No," Lucas said. "I know I am. Far more clever than good old Ronald Bilius Weasley ever could be."
He took another step forward, calm and deliberate, his voice carrying clear and sharp through the thick silence of the Great Hall. Franks wand now pointed at his back and Albert's at this head.
"Let's be honest. What are you good for?" Lucas asked, tone casual, almost curious. "Not as courageous as Bill, not as driven as Charlie, not as studious as Percy, not as ingenious as Fred or George… and definitely not as athletic as Ginny."
He let the words hang.
Lucas looked Ron up and down, slow and pointed. "Just look at her… then look at you."
A few quiet laughs slipped out from somewhere down the Slytherin table.
"Did you really think you could play Quidditch? You?" Lucas chuckled. "They let you on the team because they had to fill the spot. It was because of Harry's endorsement. Not because you were good at it."
Ron's face turned scarlet.
"But you told yourself otherwise, didn't you?" Lucas went on, his tone mocking, like you would tell a story to a child with exaggerated body language. "You told yourself you earned it. That people would finally see you. That your name would mean something on its own."
Lucas paused becoming indifferent again, before tilting his head.
"But the truth is, they cheered for Harry. For your sister. For anyone but you. And every time the crowd clapped, you told yourself it was for you too, because it's easier than admitting the truth."
He smiled without warmth. "You're the placeholder. The sidekick. The one who follows. The one who hopes someone else will screw up just long enough for you to shine."
Ron's hands were shaking now. His wand trembled slightly in his clenched fist. But something held him back just enough.
Lucas just stared at it.
"I dare you," he said quietly. "Raise it. For once, be yourself and show some initative."
Ron's jaw clenched. His face flushed red with fury. And then, to gasps echoing off the ceiling, he did it.
The wand lifted, allowed to.
But Lucas had already moved.
"Descendo."
The spell cracked like a whip, invisible but brutal. A burst of force smashed down on Ron's shoulders, and he was driven to the stone floor with a painful grunt, his wand clattering away. Plates jumped, forks fell, students flinched.
The entire Great Hall had frozen once more.
The wands of the aurors pressed into his body and with their free hand they tried to hold him, but there was no force behind it. In fact there was never a possibility for them doing anything that either Lucas wasn't aware or didn't want to happen. His Legilimency had buried itself into their heads firmly.
Lucas walked forward, deliberate and unhurried, until he stood over Ron's sprawled form. The aurors mirroring his every step, giving the illusion as if they were in control to the rest of the Great Hall.
"Now look at you," he said quietly. "Flat on the ground the moment it matters. That's more like it."
Ron groaned, trying to push himself up, but Lucas crouched low, and suddenly...
It hit.
That invisible pressure. Cold fingers brushing against the edges of thought. Lucas' eyes locked on his, and Ron's defiance wavered as something far more invasive began to slip past his anger. Made obvious because Lucas chose to.
"Don't fight," Lucas murmured so only Ron could hear. "You're not good at that either."
"I want an apology," he demanded, still quiet, still calm. "Say it."
Ron's lips trembled. "N-no..."
"Say it." This time playful.
A fresh wave of pressure surged, Ron's vision swam with flashes of his worst failures, the familiar voice in his head whispering that he wasn't enough, never was.
"Say it, Ronald."
"I'm..." The word cracked in his throat.
Lucas tilted his head. "No. Say it loud enough for everyone to hear. You wanted the attention. So take it."
"I'm sorry," Ron choked.
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"For?"
"I'm sorry for drawing my wand," Ron rasped. "I... I lost control."
"Who were you threatening?"
Silence. Lucas's eyes narrowed. The pressure returned like a crushing weight.
"Who?"
"Susan!" Ron gasped.
Lucas held the stare another second, then let go. At the same time the aurors 'ordered' him to stop.
Ron collapsed breathing hard, eyes glassy.
Lucas stood up and brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Good boy."
Then he simply walked out of the Great Hall without turning around.