Arya slowly opened her eyes; she found herself in a large infirmary with a vaulted brick ceiling.
Carefully, she turned her head and looked around. James Potter was lying on the bed next to her, looking surprisingly cheerful.
When he saw Arya awake, he grinned and said:
"Well, finally awake, are you?"
Arya stared at him in confusion—she hadn't quite regained her bearings.
"What happened to the match?"
James smirked.
"You won! Though... not sure you could call it a noble victory."
Arya felt a flicker of joy, though she replied softly:
"Sorry—I had to do it. I hope you don't hate me."
James shrugged with another half-grin.
"Well, what more can one expect? But no, I don't hate you. Although... to actually win the Cup—well, let's just say you Slytherins still have a lot of work to do. You'll need to beat Hufflepuff by 100 points. Frankly, I doubt that'll happen."
Arya offered a faint smile, then tried to distract herself by focusing on the Quidditch magazine beside her.
After a few minutes, James spoke again:
"Hey. If I were you, I wouldn't waste a victory night. No telling if it'll happen again!"
"What do you mean? The door's locked and we're not allowed out. My wand's still in the locker room, anyway."
James grinned smugly.
"Well, the door may be locked—but there's a secret passage that leads close to the dungeons." He pointed to a stairwell nearby.
"Head down that way, take a right near the potion shelves—just be quiet. Madam Abbot's a light sleeper."
Arya nodded.
"Thanks! I owe you one."
James chuckled.
"Actually, with how you rammed into me during the match, let's call it two."
Arya laughed lightly and quickly headed for the stairwell.
The path to the right led to a narrow, dusty corridor.
Arba could barely see through the grime, but the tunnel was short.
Soon she reached a door at the other end. As she reached out to push it open, a voice froze her in place.
"Michael, did you find anything?"
"I think I've figured something out—but McGonagall forbade us from searching the student dorms."
"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter."
The voices began to fade.
Arya stood still, stunned. One of them was her father's voice.
She had long wanted to speak with him, and now—when the chance finally came—she was frozen in place.
She quietly opened the door and, after checking the hallway, made her way to the Slytherin dungeon.
"Pureblood."
She whispered the password, and the stone wall slid aside.
As she stepped into the common room, she was surprised to find it more crowded than ever.
Dozens of students had decorated the space with green and silver ribbons, cheering and celebrating.
Weasley pranks sparkled everywhere. Epidorus stood on a couch, giving a passionate speech.
A moment of silence fell as Arya entered—then the room erupted again. She smiled and joined the crowd.
Within minutes, Arya was surrounded by congratulations.
Epidorus approached and said:
"Hey. Thanks for fighting for us. I know the odds of us winning the Cup are still slim—but this victory meant something different to us."
Arya smiled back.
"I'm just happy to be part of the team."
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the boys.
Albus and Scorpius stood at a distance, watching her quietly.
They didn't want to spoil her joy—this was the first time in a while Arya had smiled from the heart. But once she noticed them, she rushed over.
"Hey! Where have you been? I've been looking for you two!"
Scorpius gave a faint smile.
"We were here. You're fully recovered then?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. You think I'd miss something like this?" she said, gesturing to the celebration.
But when she saw their expressions, her smile faded.
"Why do you look like that? Did something happen?"
Albus answered:
"Your dad was in the castle a few moments ago."
"I know—I saw him. That's it?"
"No."
They told her everything about the Forbidden Forest.
After a pause, Arya said:
"So… this Robert Pearson… could he be the one who stole that creature? You should've told my father!"
Scorpius replied:
"We wanted to. But he left quickly. Your dad kept moving around the castle and... we thought maybe it was better to wait until you were feeling better…"
Arya snapped:
"Well, you thought wrong! We can't waste time."
She turned to leave, but Scorpius called out:
"Where are you going? I told you—your dad left the castle already."
Arya looked back at them with disappointment.
***
An hour later, the common room had emptied.
Arya and Albus sat slouched on a couch while Scorpius cleaned up the last of the party's mess with his wand. Albus yawned.
"We should get to bed. Tomorrow, we need to speak with your dad and McGonagall."
He stood and headed for the boys' dormitory.
Scorpius followed—but then they all froze.
A faint cawing echoed through the window.
Scorpius whispered:
"A crow…"
Arya unfolded the crumpled Marauder's Map in her hand.
"It's heading for the forest—we need to warn McGonagall."
They looked toward the Headmistress's office—she wasn't there.
Albus pointed at the map.
"Look—someone's following it…"
Arya stared in shock.
Professor Cecilia Spencer's name was glowing on the parchment.
"You knew her last name is Aldridge?" she asked.
Albus replied nervously:
"I saw it before— I thought it was part of an old family name. Some people don't use their full surnames."
Arya asked:
"Why not?"
Scorpius swallowed hard.
"Probably because they're from a Death Eater family…"
A chilling silence fell.
Albus said firmly:
"We need to stop her."
Scorpius snapped:
"What? Are you mad? She'll kill us!"
Albus retorted:
"If we do nothing, they might escape!"
Arya pressed her hands to her temples, trying to focus.
"No—we have to go. We might find something useful for my father."
And with that, she dashed toward the wall.
The boys followed.
They sprinted through the hallways toward the entrance hall, not even noticing Filch's approach—until his raspy voice rang out:
"Hey! Where d'you think you're going?!"
Scorpius said, breathless:
"You two go. I'll distract him."
Arya and Albus rushed past the lawns, careful to circle around Hagrid's hut.
The Forbidden Forest stood silent and still.
Cautiously, they crept toward its edge, watching the map.
Two dots were still inside.
As they moved closer, they began to hear voices.
Spencer's soft, melodic voice now sounded sharp and stern.
"You brought everything?"
"Yes, Cici."
"Don't call me that," she snapped. "Will the Portkey take us where I wanted?"
"Yes. I set it exactly."
Cecilia eyed the stone before her.
"You go first. I'll follow."
As the man approached the stone, Arya turned to get a better look—but her eyes locked with his.
"Who's there?!"
Arya and Albus exchanged worried glances.
Spencer's voice cut through the darkness.
"Step out from behind the tree."
They emerged slowly. Spencer and the young man stood before them, and a familiar carved trunk lay nearby—the same one Arya had seen in McGonagall's office.
Before they could react, Spencer shouted:
"Expelliarmus!"
Their wands flew into her hands.
Spencer looked different now—cold, expressionless.
She said calmly:
"What are you doing here, Arya? You should've controlled that curiosity of yours. We don't like lawbreakers."
Arya and Albus stood frozen. Arya wasn't afraid—just shocked.
With another flick, Spencer bound them to a tree.
The young man asked:
"What do we do with them?"
"I'll wipe their memories," Spencer said, approaching.
"Why are you doing this?" Arya cried. "You have a good job—you're a brilliant witch! What more do you want?"
Spencer paused. Sadness flickered briefly in her eyes.
"You don't understand, Arya. You've never felt what I have. You didn't lose your mother and brother in a fire. You didn't watch your father die. You never bore the shame of being from a Death Eater family."
She raised her wand.
"You don't get to judge me."
The young man stepped forward.
"Let's go. They'll find out anyway."
But Spencer didn't lower her wand.
Her voice came out hoarse.
"You go first. I'll come after."
The young man touched the stone — and vanished.
Then, with a flash of cold resolve in her eyes, Spencer raised her wand and shouted,
"Obliviate!"
***
Twenty Years Earlier – Wiltshire Village
The little girl covered her ears, trying to block out the angry mob outside. Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace, cradling her baby brother.
It was the third time this month that villagers had gathered, seeking revenge for her father's actions in the war.
Their manor had belonged to the Aldridge family for generations.
Her father had joined the Death Eaters—but had always believed he was doing what was best for the village.
Now, with him dead, the villagers wanted blood and gold.
The mother whispered:
"Cici… you must run. Go through the basement window. I'll handle this."
Tears streamed down the girl's face, but she obeyed. Grabbing her bag—with her father's ancient spellbook inside—she fled.
Outside, someone shouted:
"Come out—or we burn it all down!"
Her mother stood her ground.
"This is our ancestral home. We're not leaving."
But it was too late. Flames engulfed the house.
Her mother tried to cast a counter-curse, but her wand slipped from her sweaty hands. She collapsed, her baby in her arms, consumed by smoke.
From a distant hill, young Cecilia watched her home burn.
She wept—then rose.
She would survive. And one day… she would avenge them.
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