The chimes of the Hogwarts clock tower wrenched the seven students out of the mythical land of Avalon, jolting them back to reality. Peter, caught mid-bite, nearly choked on the handful of crisps he'd stuffed into his mouth mere seconds ago.
Severus turned his gaze toward the wall-mounted clock. Both hands pointed to midnight. He shrugged, sharing a glance with the others. Though a restless eagerness clawed at him, begging him to override his better judgment, he forced himself to regain his composure.
"I suppose it's late enough," he said, before turning to Lily beside him. "I propose we call it a night."
"Are you serious?" Sirius scoffed. "Now of all times? Just when we're getting to the good part?"
"Hate to admit it, but Snape's right," James said, folding his arms. His friends gawked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. Noticing this, he cleared his throat and quickly added, "It is a school night, after all. But chin up—tomorrow's Friday. No need to worry about early mornings at the weekend."
"By Merlin's beard, I thought James had gone mental for a second," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"The day he ends up agreeing with dark and broody might just be the end of the world," Remus added.
"Hilarious," Snape deadpanned, leveling them with a flat stare.
"Anyway," he continued, rising to his feet and pushing his chair back, "it has been a delightful evening, but unlike you and your ilk, I do value my beauty sleep. So, I bid you farewell." With a curt bow, he strode to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out without another word.
Myrtle chuckled, watching him go. "Is it just me, or is Salazar Slytherin becoming a terrible influence on him?"
Lily laughed softly. "I suppose he is."
"Doesn't it bother you, though?" Remus said, folding his arms as he leaned back in his seat. "The more we learn about the Tower, the more we realize just how tainted the whole thing is. Corruption seeping into every facet of the organization that's meant to stand for justice."
"And this Lamar bloke, the Director, and the Sheriff of Caerleon," Sirius added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "They're all up to no good, I'll bet. Bunch of hypocrites, the lot of them—preaching about the law when none of it actually applies to them."
"I'm actually more interested in Bastion," Peter said, his eyes lighting up. "Imagine that—casting spells with a sword! By Merlin, I'd toss my wand in the bin if I could do the same!"
Sirius rolled his eyes, smirking. "Please, you can barely cast with the right wand, let alone a blade. You'd poke someone's eye out before you got a single spell off."
"Speaking of Bastion," Lily spoke up, drawing the boys' attention. "That school he attended—Wallace Academy. Sounds like a horrifying place. A school where students are actually allowed to murder each other?" She shivered. "The thought alone sends chills down my spine."
"I agree," Myrtle said, nodding. "And I don't even have a spine."
James, who had remained quiet until now, exhaled softly. "He sounds like a righteous sort." His expression softened for a moment. "A lot like Godric used to be before…" He trailed off, and the weight of his unfinished sentence settled over them, unspoken but understood.
The room fell quiet for a beat before James shook his head slightly. "It's like he and Frank are the only truly righteous people left in the Tower. I don't count Bran—not yet. He's still got a long way to go before I'd consider him one of the good ones."
"Mate, like Snape said, Bran was just doing his duty," Sirius shrugged. "Doesn't seem right, I agree, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do."
"Sounds like Bran's already starting to question his loyalties," Remus added. "Especially after what Asriel said to him."
"More than I can say for that Ogre fellow," Peter muttered, scowling. "Got what he deserved, that git."
"The last entry ended with Orgrim setting his sights on Captain Shane Langston," Lily mused, tapping her chin. "He sounded like a decent man. I wonder what he did… what happened between them?"
"No idea," James said, flashing a cheeky grin. "But I suppose that's a mystery we'll uncover tomorrow, won't we?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "Seems we've all officially descended into collective madness." He sighed, standing along with the others. "Well, if we're all bound for a prolonged stay at Saint Mungo's, might as well see it through to the bitter end."
Sirius threw an arm around him with a triumphant laugh. "See? Told you he'd come around eventually!"
"Oh, shut it, Padfoot," Remus grumbled, shoving him off.
"You know, I've always been curious," Myrtle chimed in, floating beside them. "What's with the nicknames? What do they mean?"
"Another time, Myrtle," James yawned, stretching. "Right now, I could sleep like the dead."
Lily laughed as she slipped the journal back into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "Now who's making dead jokes?"
Myrtle pouted. "No fair, that's supposed to be my thing."
With an exaggerated huff, she drifted through the wall while the others slipped out of the room, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. The corridor was still and silent, the dim torchlight casting long shadows against the stone walls.
Once they were sure the coast was clear, they shut the door behind them and made their way down the corridor, their footsteps hushed against the cold floor.
None of them noticed the figure lingering in the darkness, watching.
Eyes narrowed, gleaming with quiet malice.
****
The chime of the Hogwarts clock tower marked the end of yet another lesson—this time, Herbology with Professor Sprout at the castle orangery. As much as Lily enjoyed watching James and his friends struggle to pot a mandrake, she found herself distracted, her thoughts elsewhere. Peter, poor thing, had been so traumatized by the ordeal that he actually fainted mid-lesson, his body crumpling to the greenhouse floor. Professor Sprout, entirely unfazed, had carried on as if she had seen it happen a hundred times before—which, knowing her, she probably had.
But Lily's mind, like that of her newfound friends, was far from textbooks, quills, and ink-scrawled parchments. Her thoughts lingered on Avalon. On the magnificent tale of the Founders. On their adventures—the true story, the one found nowhere in the history books, the one that lay hidden within the journal now nestled inside her bag.
Time and time again, she found herself questioning why. Why had the tale of Godric, Salazar, Helga, and Rowena—their true tale—been so conveniently erased from history? What had been deemed so dangerous, so unworthy of remembrance, that it had been cast into obscurity?
Now, seated in the dim candlelight of Professor Binns' History Of Magic classroom, Lily drummed her fingers absently against her desk. Her eyes were fixed on the ghostly figure at the front of the room, yet she wasn't truly seeing him. Professor Binns, much like Myrtle, was bound to this world beyond death, his spectral form hovering just above the stone floor. He wore a pale shirt beneath a chequered vest, a neat bow tie at his throat, and a long, slightly tattered coat. Wisps of thin hair curled at the sides of his balding head—a frozen remnant of the man he had been in life.
But death had not dulled his knowledge.
No, for all his droning monotony, Professor Binns remained a vault of history, a keeper of forgotten truths. And Lily couldn't help but wonder—if they asked the right questions, how much of the past could he reveal?
"And as such, the Muggles Protection Act was passed to ensure that our world can coexist in harmony with—"
"Professor?"
Lily raised her hand, her voice cutting through the droning lecture like a quill scratching against parchment. The ghostly professor turned his hollow-eyed gaze toward her, momentarily surprised by the interruption. Around her, James and his friends—including Snape—snapped out of their reverie, eyes suddenly alert.
"I have a question," she said.
Professor Binns adjusted his ghostly spectacles. "Certainly, Miss Evans. Ask away."
Lily hesitated for only a moment before speaking. "I was wondering if you could tell me about the terms Mundane and Pasquil?"
A strange hush settled over the room. Professor Binns' translucent form stiffened, his usually listless expression flickering with something rare—interest. His eyes widened slightly behind his glasses.
Remus looked as though he was about to burst a vein, his face contorted in panic. Before he could blurt anything, Sirius clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling whatever frantic words were about to escape.
"My word, Miss Evans," Professor Binns murmured. "I haven't heard those terms in a very long time." He adjusted his bow tie, a ghostly tic left over from life. "I must say, I'm quite surprised you've come across them, given how rare they are nowadays."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "So they are real terms, then? Not just made-up ones?"
"Oh, certainly. But as I said, it has been several lifetimes since they were commonly used." He paused, stroking his chin. "And there's quite the history behind them."
"Pray tell, Professor," Severus cut in smoothly.
A ripple of surprise passed through the students as they turned toward him. Lily had to bite back a laugh—one again, she swore Salazar was rubbing off on him.
Around them, students began to lean in, their curiosity piqued. Even James, despite himself, was listening intently.
Professor Binns gave a nod. "Very well, if you insist, Mister Snape. Back in the time of the Founders, long before Hogwarts was, well… Hogwarts, Wizarding folk and Non-Wizarding folk lived together in relative harmony. Back then, wizards referred to those without magical abilities as Mundanes."
He let the word linger in the air before continuing.
"And those who were born into magical families but possessed no magical talent of their own… they were called Pasquils."
"Interesting," Remus said after finally shaking Sirius off. "But when did it change? How did Mundane become, well… Muggle?"
Professor Binns regarded him with a solemn expression.
"When the Witch Trials happened."
A heavy silence fell over the class, thick and suffocating.
"I need not remind you," the ghostly professor continued, drifting past the large wooden desk, "that the wizarding world has had its fair share of… conflicts with the non-magical world." His words, usually monotonous, carried something colder, something heavier. "For centuries, certain beliefs vilified magic and those who practiced it. And as witches and wizards were persecuted, they fought back."
He paused, his spectral form flickering as he floated before them. "The wars between our kinds were long. Bloody. The cost—immeasurable, for both sides." He swept his gaze over the students. "Can anyone tell me which was, without a doubt, the worst?"
Lily raised her hand. "The Spanish Inquisition."
"Precisely. Ten points to Gryffindor." Binns inclined his head. "There's little doubt that should they have wished it, the wizarding world could have easily crushed the non-magical world. But with enough blood spilled and coexistence no longer an option, those in power made a choice—one that shaped our world as we know it. They decided that we would step into the shadows… and we have remained there ever since."
He inhaled sharply—a reflex long since unneeded.
"But pain," he murmured, "has a way of lingering."
The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows across his translucent face.
"And pain breeds hate."
His tone did not rise, but it settled, each word pressing into the air with quiet finality.
"Hatred for those who wrought cruelty and misery upon us. Who hunted us, burned us, hanged us—for nothing more than being different." His gaze swept across the students. "That hatred was allowed to fester. To spread. It started small, but in time, it seeped into every faucet of the wizarding world."
Professor Binns drifted closer. "You see, once upon a time, Muggle was not a neutral term. It did not mean 'non-magical person.' What began as Mundane was twisted. Warped. Bastardised." He let the word hang in the air. "Once, it was a slur."
"Merlin's beard," James muttered under his breath, more stunned than anything.
Binns barely acknowledged him as he pressed on. "And the same can be said for Squib." He folded his hands behind his back. "The term began as an insult—used against those born into wizarding families with no magic, simply because they reminded us of those we had grown to loathe."
His gaze swept over them once more.
"For a very long time, even as recent as a decade ago, the wizarding world carried these prejudices. And somewhere along the way, we forgot." He exhaled softly. "We forgot that the words Muggle and Squib were once spoken with disdain. And instead, we simply accepted them as normal."
"But that's… that's not right," Lily said suddenly. "Surely there must be a way to correct this!"
Professor Binns let out a dry chuckle. "I admire your enthusiasm, Miss Evans. Truly, I do. But that, I'm afraid, is a fool's hope." His spectral form hovered slightly forward. His expression unreadable. "You see, we cannot simply undo centuries of deeply ingrained prejudice. More so, we are talking about terms that are not only commonly used but woven into the very fabric of our society."
He leaned in slightly.
"The Ministry of Magic itself has long since adopted the term 'Muggle' into its official vocabulary. Hence we have the Department of Muggle Affairs." He gestured vaguely. "Even our laws—the Muggle Protection Act—bear its name. The word is not just accepted; it has been enshrined within our very constitution." His gaze settled on her, steady and unyielding. "At this point in time, Miss Evans, it would be easier to change the stars in the sky."
Lily's mouth pressed into a thin line, her hands tightening into fists against her desk.
"Imagine that," Sirius muttered under his breath. "Mundane and Pasquil—actual words, just like they were in the journal."
"I'd wondered why I'd never heard those terms before," James admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If I'm honest, I was still a bit skeptical about the journal itself. But after what Professor Binns just said…"
"This changes nothing, Prongs," Remus cut in. "Outdated words turning up in a strange journal doesn't prove anything. For all we know, whoever wrote it just did their homework."
"Who cares?" Peter hissed. "Doesn't make it any less wicked."
A loud ahem brought their muttering to a halt.
"If you boys are quite finished whispering amongst yourselves," Professor Binns said sharply, his ghostly eyes narrowing, "may I continue?"
The four of them snapped their heads up, turning as pale as he was.
They nodded vigorously, wordless in their sudden obedience.
Snape, who had remained silent throughout, merely shook his head.
"As I was saying," Professor Binns continued, his spectral form gliding effortlessly along the rows of students, "times have certainly changed."
He drifted past the desks. "The deep-seated prejudices against non-wizarding folk have waned over the years. Wizards and witches are no longer as brazen in their disdain as they once were." His translucent eyes flickered toward a particular section of the room—where a handful of students sat, the sigil of House Slytherin emblazoned proudly on their robes.
"Albeit," he added, "with some exceptions."
A few students stiffened. Some glared, and some drew knowing smirks, though none dared challenge him.
"Nevertheless," Binns continued, "our history—as shameful as it is—has become ingrained into our everyday lives. It is a weight we must bear, a truth we cannot erase, no matter how uncomfortable it may be."
His gaze shifted back to Lily.
"That being said," he said, "we cannot hope to embrace a better tomorrow without first acknowledging the darkness of our past. And I am glad, Miss Evans, that you have given me—and this class—the opportunity to do so."
He inclined his head slightly. "For that, another ten points to Gryffindor."
Lily smiled warmly as James and his friends grinned in triumph beside her.
Severus rolled his eyes—but despite himself, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
****
As night fell upon the castle, the moon cast its silver glow over the ancient stone, the soft chirping of crickets serenading the quiet. The students had long since retired to their dormitories, bellies full of the evening feast, some indulging in a bit of light reading before sleep. For Lily, however, the night was only just beginning. With her backpack secured tightly on her shoulders, its precious contents hidden from the world—known only to those who needed to know—she descended the staircase toward their appointed meeting place.
The halls were near empty at this hour, save for the occasional passing student or professor going about their business. Bathed in dim candlelight, the towering suits of armor, intricate ornaments, and solemn portraits cast flickering shadows across the walls. They were familiar sights, ones she had long grown accustomed to in her years within these hallowed corridors.
But as she rounded the corner, she froze.
A figure stood in her path, half-shrouded in shadow, save for the pale glint of his piercing grey eyes—cold, watchful, brimming with condescension and barely concealed disdain.
Lily's breath hitched.
"Lucius?" She took an instinctive step back, eyes widening. "My apologies—I didn't see you there."
Almost every student in Hogwarts knew the name Lucius Malfoy. And while his reputation preceded him, it did not always cast him in a favorable light—particularly given the infamous nature of his family and their views.
He was a year, perhaps two, her senior. His near-platinum blonde hair was neatly styled, the front draped across the left side of his face, ending just at his cheek—lending him an air of effortless elegance, tinged with something undeniably sinister. A Prefect's badge gleamed upon his chest, pinned just above the finely embroidered Slytherin crest on his uniform.
"Miss Evans…" His gaze drifted over her, slow and deliberate. "Now where might you be headed at this hour?"
Lily swallowed, the cool weight of unease creeping down her spine.
"Just… out for some air. Nothing fancy." She kept her tone light, casual—but even she could hear the faint waver in her voice. "Now, if you'd excuse me—"
Lily made to step past him, but before she could take a single step, bang—Lucius slammed his palm against the wall, his arm barring her path.
She flinched.
"Oh, Miss Evans," Lucius murmured. "If you're going to lie to me, at least try to make it convincing." His cold grey eyes narrowed. "Such a feeble attempt is frankly insulting to my intelligence. And I don't take kindly to being insulted." He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Especially not by the likes of you."
Lily's jaw tightened. Her own gaze, once startled, was now sharp as flint. "And just what exactly are you insinuating? Unless you have probable cause to suggest I'm up to something, you have no right to detain me."
Lucius smirked, leaning in—not towards her face, but just past it, his breath ghosting against her ear.
"Oh, but I know, Evans."
The smugness in his voice sent a cold shiver down her spine.
"I know what you've been doing. Where you've been sneaking off to." His tone was little more than a whisper now, silken and sinister. "Did you really think you could hide your little rendezvous down in the Detention Room from me?"
Lily's breath hitched. Her fingers clenched around the strap of her bag.
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about, Lucius!" she stammered.
"Oh, I think you do." He let the silence stretch, reveling in her discomfort before drawing back just enough to meet her eyes. His smirk turned razor-sharp. "And with all those boys."
Lucius clicked his tongue.
"I always knew your kind would sink to such depravity, but you, Evans? Really?" He let out a slow, theatrical sigh. "One can only imagine what the teachers would say. What the whole school would think, once word got out…"
The icy fear that gripped Lily a moment ago evaporated in an instant, replaced by something far hotter—rage.
"Excuse me?" she hissed, her green eyes flashing dangerously.
Lucius shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "You heard me, Miss Evans." His smirk deepened. "After all, there's only one reason why a half-breed like yourself would sneak off to the quietest corner of the castle with a group of boys. Trying to rid yourself of your Muggle half, are you?" His eyes gleamed with something cruel. "Can't blame you for trying, given—"
The sound echoed through the corridor as Lily's palm met Lucius' cheek with force.
He staggered slightly, his head snapping to the side, the imprint of her hand blooming red against his pale skin. Lily stood rigid, her teeth bared, her chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. Lucius remained still for a second, as if his mind was struggling to process what had just happened. Then—his expression twisted into pure, seething rage.
"You hit me," he growled. "Not even my own father has ever hit me!"
Before she could react, his hand lashed out, gripping her by the collar of her robes and yanking her forward.
Lily cried out, her hands shooting up to pry him off.
"I'll teach you some respect, you filthy little Mud—"
"Mister Malfoy!"
A voice boomed through the corridor, commanding and sharp as a blade.
Lucius froze.
Lily, heart hammering, turned her head toward the source—her breath catching as the shadows at the end of the hallway shifted.
The older man stood before them, draped in regal velvet robes, his long white beard resting against the folds of his chest. Though his expression remained composed, there was no mistaking the quiet fury behind his piercing eyes as they regarded Lucius over the rim of his half-moon glasses.
"Professor Dumbledore… sir," Lucius stammered.
"I beseech you to unhand Miss Evans at once." The words were spoken calmly, but the authority in them left no room for argument.
Lucius dropped his grip on Lily immediately, stepping back as if distance alone could erase what had just happened.
Dumbledore's gaze did not waver. "Such conduct is unbecoming of a Prefect of Hogwarts. As far as I am aware, the role of a Prefect is to ensure that rules are followed. Nowhere, however, does it permit the use of corporal punishment against fellow students."
Lucius swallowed hard but said nothing.
Dumbledore took a measured step forward. "And let me be absolutely clear. Whatever beliefs you or your family may hold, you will keep them to yourself so long as you remain within these walls. I will tolerate none of your prejudices. Is that understood?"
"Fully, Professor," Lucius murmured.
Dumbledore gave a slow nod. "Let this be the last time I find you in such a predicament, Mister Malfoy. And the last time I hear so much as a whisper of the word you were about to speak." He tilted his head in a dismissive gesture. "Now, be off with you."
Lucius nodded stiffly, but as he turned on his heel, his grey eyes flicked to Lily, his gaze smoldering with quiet hatred. She barely suppressed a flinch before he strode away, his footsteps fading into the corridor beyond.
As Dumbledore approached, his gaze softened. "Are you quite alright, Miss Evans?"
"Yes, Professor," Lily replied, adjusting the strap of her backpack with a sigh. "Thank you. It was a good thing you came by when you did."
"I must apologize on behalf of Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said, his eyes flickering briefly toward the corridor where Lucius had disappeared. "Hogwarts prides itself on equality, but I am afraid certain prejudices run deep. Particularly amongst some of the more… prestigious families."
"That's not necessary, Professor," Lily said, shaking her head. "If anyone ought to apologize, it's him." She cast a glance over her shoulder. "Believe me, I'm well aware of the opinions some people hold about me and my fellow Mund—Muggle-borns… but I've never met anyone so brazen about it."
"The world is filled with people like Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore mused. "It is a trait humanity carries, as unfortunate as it may be. However, there is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility is being superior to your former self."
Lily smiled faintly. "Hemingway."
"Quite right, Miss Evans." Dumbledore returned her smile. "Now, I daresay I shouldn't keep you from your extracurricular activities. Do send my regards to your friends."
Lily's breath caught. Her eyes widened.
Dumbledore took a step past her but paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Oh, and might I suggest a change in venue, given the circumstances?" A glimmer of mischief flickered in his expression. "The third floor. Past the unicorn statue. Between two suits of armor. You may find the space… accommodating. It tends to appear when students are in need of it."
Before Lily could ask anything further, the headmaster had already strolled away, his robes billowing gently behind him.
She blinked, then let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head as a grin spread across her face.
Without another moment's hesitation, she hurried off.
****
The door swung open, revealing nothing but pitch-black darkness.
Lily hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the others following close behind.
"What's going on? It's dark as bloody night in here!" Peter muttered, shifting uneasily.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Sirius added. "Could be a bloody trap for all we know."
"A trap laid by Professor Dumbledore?" Severus remarked dryly. "I highly doubt the man shares your enthusiasm for pranks."
"Hush," Remus murmured. "Whatever's in here, the last thing we need is for it to catch onto us."
Then, as if in response to his words, the room came to life.
One by one, torches flared into existence, casting a warm golden glow across the space. The walls began to shift and reshape, stone rearranging itself while shelves slid into view. The ceiling stretched upwards into a vast glass dome, revealing a breathtaking tapestry of moonlight and stars.
Large arched windows lined the walls between towering bookshelves, offering glimpses into a world beyond—one they knew wasn't real. Brass chandeliers hovered above them, their light flickering across rich tapestries and banners that unraveled from the walls, bearing insignias long forgotten.
At the heart of the room stood a cluster of plush couches and armchairs, circling a polished wooden coffee table.
The scent of butterbeer drifted through the air.
Peter sniffed, his nose twitching, before his eyes landed on a well-stocked shelf at the far end of the room. Crisps, chocolates, pumpkin pasties—every manner of sweet and snack imaginable.
"Merlin's beard!" he gasped, making a beeline for the shelves. His hands hovered over the selection, torn between choices. "I feel like I've died and gone to heaven."
"So this is the Room of Requirement…" James breathed, turning in place to take it all in. "Just like in the journal. It appears when students need it. But how on earth did they bring it here to Hogwarts?"
"Fascinating," Remus murmured, twirling slowly as he took in every detail. "Another mystery of Avalon, hiding in plain sight, right under our noses."
"I dunno, mate, and frankly, I don't give a hoot," Sirius said, grinning. "All I know is, this proves the journal's the real deal. The more we uncover, the more it all starts making sense."
"Perhaps we ought to be thanking good old Lucius after all," James muttered, his expression turning sour as he flicked his gaze toward Lily. "Because if I ever catch that tosser pulling a stunt like that with you again, he'll be picking what's left of his bloody teeth off the floor and his Prefect's badge out of his arse—Malfoy or not."
Lily shook her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "My hero."
"Oi, save some for me, mate," Sirius said, rolling his shoulder as he flexed his fingers into a fist. "Always did say that wanker's in desperate need of a good thrashing."
Severus rolled his eyes. "If you're all quite done, perhaps we can settle in?"
Just then, Myrtle's ethereal form rose from the floor, a playful smirk on her translucent face.
"Sorry, took me a while to find my way in. Ghosting into the Room of Requirement takes a bit more effort than usual."
Peter returned with an armful of crisps and several bags of sweets, already stuffing gummy worms into his mouth as he dumped the rest onto the coffee table before flopping onto a couch.
Remus sighed but took his seat, followed by the others.
Lily pulled the journal from her bag, flipping back to where they had left off.
"Come now, don't keep us waiting," Myrtle teased, grinning.
As they leaned in, the world around them seemed to fall away.
And just like that, they were back—back in the mystical land of Avalon, back in the story of the Founders.