"What do you mean—you couldn't find it?!"
Hydrus Lestrange was practically shouting inside the Minister's office at the Ministry of Magic.
Once hunted like a fugitive, she was now the Ministry's largest financial backer. Glowering at the Minister had become a privilege she'd well and truly earned.
"Yes, Hydrus," Barty Crouch said carefully—he still defaulted to calling her that. "We searched every file from your year of enrollment. There's no record of any order forcing you to repeat a year."
"That's impossible. Absolutely impossible." Hydrus spun in place twice. "That order existed. I know it did."
Crouch lowered his voice. "Is it possible it was issued verbally by former Minister Fudge? Those kinds of administrative orders weren't always properly archived."
Fudge?
Fudge had been dead for over a month.
Which meant—
No evidence. No proof.
And if there was no proof, didn't that mean she could tell Dumbledore the Ministry had never issued such a ridiculous order in the first place?
"All right. I understand." Hydrus waved a hand. "Thank you for the trouble, Mr. Crouch. I'll be going now."
"—Wait!"
Too late.
With a sharp crack, Hydrus vanished.
Crouch stared at the empty office, his expression strange. He still finished his sentence, even though talking to himself made him look unhinged.
"The OWLs registration forms were submitted weeks ago… and your name is on them. Should I… sign it?"
Everyone knew OWLs were only open to fifth-years.
Hydrus spent the last days of summer in a splendid mood.
She ignored the owl-delivered Fifth-Year Book List entirely and purchased every single Sixth-Year textbook instead.
On the morning of term, just as she finished packing and prepared to Apparate directly to Hogwarts, a visitor arrived.
"Hydrus!"
Iselin Windsor threw herself into a hug. "How was your summer?"
Hydrus pushed her off with a roll of her eyes. "You didn't write me a single letter, and now you're pretending to care? Let me tell you—my summer was awful. The first month I was dragged off by a bunch of malicious old men for forced studying, and the second month I was worked half to death by concerts!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Iselin hurriedly explained. "I was staying at my great-aunt's palace. It's heavily warded—owls can't even lock on! I didn't mean to ignore you!"
Hydrus paused.
Royal palace. Great-aunt.
Ah. That great-aunt.
"…Fine. You're forgiven." She smiled. "I'm heading to school. Want a lift?"
"By Apparition?"
"Yeah. A few seconds of discomfort beats hours of travel, right?"
Iselin shook her head. "That's exactly why I came to stop you."
"…What?"
"You need friends. You need social interaction!" Iselin said sternly. "I read a Muggle study this summer about how lack of socialization increases depression rates. Depression can lead to suicide, you know!"
Hydrus blinked.
"You're a textbook case! Your social circle is tiny!"
"And I heard you even ditched the celebration party after your American concert tour! That's unacceptable!"
"So today—you are taking the Hogwarts Express."
Iselin folded her arms like an overbearing mother.
Hydrus burst out laughing.
Once upon a time, this girl had been the image of aristocratic composure. Now, in front of Hydrus, she'd dropped every last pretense.
Iselin puffed out her cheeks and glared, clearly prepared to stare Hydrus into submission.
Defeated by sheer cuteness, Hydrus raised both hands. "All right, all right. I'll go."
She'd just sleep on the train anyway. She'd worked nonstop all summer—rest was perfectly reasonable.
Hydrus called toward the kitchen. "Momo!"
"Little Mistress, Momo remembers!" the house-elf chirped, poking her head out. "Boiled cabbage in clear broth! The stock will be ready before dinner, I promise!"
Satisfied, Hydrus nodded. "Good. Let's go."
Crack.
Apparating to the station only to sit on a train for hours was, objectively speaking, pointless.
But Hydrus did it anyway.
Last term, Iselin had shown up fully armed to support her. That wasn't something Hydrus would ever ignore.
Once aboard, Hydrus claimed a seat, tossed her suitcase onto the rack, and immediately fell asleep. No matter how much Iselin chattered beside her, she didn't move an inch.
Until the Hogwarts Express was forced to stop.
Hydrus opened her eyes.
The sky outside was dark, the air growing steadily colder.
That feeling—
She shook her head, clearing the fog, then quickly calculated.
Second year. Chamber of Secrets timeline.
So why did this feel so much like Prisoner of Azkaban?
Voices echoed from outside.
"Please remain calm! We are conducting a search for an escaped criminal!"
"Remain seated and cooperate!"
Escaped criminal?
Which one?
The compartment door slid open. Two Aurors stepped inside—neither familiar.
"Good afternoon, ladies," said the one with an earring. "Just a routine check. Please quietly tell me the names and Houses of everyone else in this compartment."
Hydrus was questioned first.
She hesitated, slightly awkward. "That's Iselin Windsor. Slytherin."
"The scary-looking one is also Slytherin—Bosd family, I think. Don't remember her name."
"The other is Ravenclaw. I've seen her in the Great Hall, but we don't know each other."
The Auror raised an eyebrow. "You're sharing a compartment and haven't even introduced yourselves?"
"I just finished a world tour," Hydrus said flatly. "I sat down and passed out."
Despite the inconsistencies, the Auror waved it off. The others passed without issue.
"Very well. Enjoy the rest of your journey."
As they turned to leave, Hydrus nodded faintly.
Under Crouch's leadership, at least the Ministry wasn't throwing Dementors at every problem anymore. Simple questioning worked far better than unleashing uncontrollable terror.
And yet—
Hydrus looked out the window.
Against the storm-dark sky, Dementors drifted in and out of sight.
If Aurors were enough, why deploy them?
"Auror," Hydrus said calmly. "What sort of criminal warrants this level of response?"
The Auror paused, then looked back at her. "Actually… this escapee has some connection to you, Miss Lestrange."
Hydrus froze.
Who?
Bellatrix? Rodolphus? No—her identity wasn't public.
Sirius Black? Same issue.
"It's Bode Gray," the Auror said. "He was broken out. Given your history with him, we believe he's likely to target you again."
So that old man.
That explained everything.
No one disguised themselves as the target to get close to the target.
If he showed up—
She'd make him regret surviving a summer of Grindelwald's training.
"I see," Hydrus said evenly. "Then how did he escape?"
"From below," the Auror replied. "Some kind of drilling device. He tunneled up from the seabed."
"Bode Gray doesn't concern me," Hydrus said calmly. "If I caught him once, I can catch him again."
Her confidence made both Aurors look at her with renewed respect.
"But," she continued, "if it were only him, you wouldn't deploy Dementors. You're leaving something out."
"Sharp," the Auror said with a nod. "Gray escaped last week. We've been tracking him quietly."
He paused.
"But last night, another prisoner broke out. One of the most dangerous there is. He once destroyed an entire Muggle street."
He looked her straight in the eyes.
"Sirius Black."