Hermione was meticulously cutting Ana's toast into perfect, crustless triangles, while Cassandra stirred a drop of honey into her tea with rhythmic precision. They were a wall of focused devotion, their shoulders pinned together to ensure no other student could even brush against Ana's skinny frame.
Then, a small, red-haired figure approached the bench.
Ginny Weasley stood there, her fingers twisting the hem of her new robes, her face a pale mask of nerves. She looked at the four older girls—the "Guardians"—and flinched under their cold, territorial glares.
"Ginny," Ana whispered.
The melodic chime of her voice stopped the clatter of silverware. Ana shifted slightly, creating a tiny gap on the bench. "Come. Sit next to me."
The Green-Eyed CircleThe air at the table turned frigid. Hermione's hand froze, the silver knife hovering over the toast. Cho Chang narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her goblet, while Lavender let out a sharp, audible intake of breath.
"There isn't much room, Ana," Hermione said, her voice strained with a polite, jagged jealousy. "We've already arranged the seating for your comfort. It's very cramped today."
"There is room for Ginny," Ana said softly, her silver eyes meeting Hermione's.
The "Influence" rippled across the table—a cool, irresistible weight. Hermione blinked, her pupils dilating as she felt the silent command. She immediately slid down the bench, her movements jerky and dazed.
Ginny scrambled into the seat, her shoulder touching Ana's. She looked up at the 4 foot 6 girl with a wide-eyed, breathless adoration. "Thank you, Ana," she whispered.
The four older girls watched in a suffocating silence as Ana reached out with her skinny fingers and tucked a lock of Ginny's red hair behind her ear. The jealousy in the air was thick enough to choke on; they had spent a year earning that touch, and here was a first-year being invited into the inner sanctum on her second day.
Greenhouse Three: The Screaming EarthThe tension followed them to the greenhouses for Herbology. Professor Sprout stood behind a trestle table laden with trays of Mandrakes.
"Right! Earmuffs on!" Sprout barked. "These are seedlings, but their cry can still knock you out for hours!"
The "Circle" didn't just put on their own muffs; they swarmed Ana.
Hermione grabbed a pair of pink, fluffy muffs and tried to fit them over Ana's ears.
Cassandra held Ana's hands down, as if the girl were too petite to handle the weight of the headgear herself.
Ginny hovered at the edge, desperate to help, her hand reaching for the velvet ribbon in Ana's hair.
"We've got her, Ginny," Lavender hissed, physically stepping between the first-year and Ana. "You look after your own tray. Ana is our responsibility."
The Silent CommandProfessor Sprout gave the signal. The students yanked the ugly, root-like babies from their pots. Instantly, a chorus of jagged, soul-shredding screams filled the greenhouse. Even through the earmuffs, the sound was a physical assault.
The Mandrakes thrashed, their tiny, wrinkled faces contorted in fury.
Ana didn't pull her Mandrake out. She reached into the soil, her skinny fingers brushing the top of the creature's head. She slowly reached up and pulled her earmuffs down around her neck, exposing herself to the raw, lethal sound.
"ANA!" Hermione screamed, her voice muffled by her own muffs, her face contorting in terror as she reached out to cover Ana's ears with her bare hands.
But Ana didn't collapse. She looked down at the screaming root, her silver eyes swirling with a deep, metallic light.
"Be still," she whispered.
The "Influence" flooded the greenhouse like a wave of ice water. The Mandrake in her hand stopped screaming instantly. Its eyes went wide, and it went limp, its tiny limbs curling inward in a gesture of total submission.
A second later, the other Mandrakes in the trays—the ones the other students were struggling with—shuddered and fell silent. The greenhouse went deathly quiet, the only sound being the heavy breathing of the stunned students.
The AftermathProfessor Sprout stared, her trowel slipping from her hand. "I... I've never seen... they've fainted? No, they're... they're sleeping?"
Ana gently tucked her Mandrake back into the soil. She looked up at the "Circle," who were all frozen in various states of protective lunges. Hermione was still clutching Ana's shoulders, her heart hammering so hard against Ana's back that the Life-Bond moonstone was glowing a frantic, jagged red.
"They were just lonely, Hermione," Ana said, her voice a melodic ripple in the silence. "They wanted to know who was in charge."
Ginny looked at Ana from across the table, her face filled with a devotion so absolute it bordered on the religious. The older girls, however, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Mandrakes. Their "fragile" Queen had just silenced a room of monsters with a word, and they realized that their protection was perhaps the only thing she didn't actually need.