As Dumbledore sat in the medical wing he stared at the cause of all the problems of this year, a small black diary with black ink and blood stains ruining the parchment. After he received word of Pansy Parkinson hysterically running through the empty school by Snape, he along with Fawkes rushed towards the location she deemed to be the chamber that had eluded headmaster’s for hundreds of years.

Bringing both the unconscious Lucas and Hermione out from the massive secret Chamber hidden right under Dumbledore's feet since he was young, Pansy admitted to having been responsible for everything this year at the behest of a Tom Riddle. The name rang in Dumbledore’s mind as his greatest regret had come to haunt him once again, but he calmly asked her questions of events perfectly hiding his shock at the name she muttered between sobs. During her confession, Lucas’ pet snake spoke out as well, unknowingly adding more pieces of what happened in the chamber between them both. “He was the same teacher that gave Lucas private lessons last year! He changed a lot! But also not...”

Hearing how Lucas immediately knew Tom was Voldemort after hearing a small message, and being called a protégé sent a pit into his stomach. The dark was beckoning Lucas with sweet words, and unfortunately Pansy couldn’t remember anything until after their confrontation.

Lowering the diary of his greatest failure, Dumbledore glanced at Pansy resting her head on the bed Lucas was sleeping on. She had returned after placing Lucas’ pet snake to his room, anxiously waiting by his bedside until drowsiness overtook her. With a gentle wave of his hand he helped Pansy fade off into sleep. He had to truly know. To view any warning signs for himself, even at the cost of invading privacy. With much reluctance, Dumbledore gently rested his hand on Lucas’ forehead, closing his eyes to see a better picture of the last few hours.

He watched and felt Lucas’ thoughts at seeing what Voldemort had done. He felt Lucas’ wavering heart, almost succumbing to Tom’s silver tongue that had ensnared so many others. Only to have his eyes opened by the small child he kept by his side, almost like a personification of his own innocence. However that was soon lost to anger, a vengeful hate towards Voldemort, for past and present. In Lucas’ rage, Dumbledore was brought back to Lucas in his first year, being secretly taught by Voldemort in his first year. A man Lucas found to be a very intelligent professor and master to study under. All before he stumbled across the Unicorn Tom was in the middle of murdering. Without that one night, Lucas may have actually taken his outstretched hand. A chilling image for Dumbledore to witness to say the least.

Opening his eyes, Dumbledore took a moment to collect his own thoughts, making sure that his mind hadn’t muddled with Lucas’ for too long. After making sure his mind was in order, Dumbledore tapped his fingers against the stabbed diary. Lucas, while resisting the temptations of the dark side this time, might not be so inclined to do so again. Not without help.

His gaze moved over to the sleeping girl a few beds away, one that already had Harry visiting when he wasn’t beside Ron Weasley or Chiara Lobosca. Hermione Granger, the girl that pulled out Gryffindor’s blade. Dumbledore knew that something more primal stirred within Lucas, something even Dumbledore couldn’t quite see as it woke after seeing Hermione dying before him. Even Lucas himself didn’t truly understand it, but he held Hermione highly in his mind. Higher than most others, even if he didn’t want to. Over the years, Dumbledore had enough wisdom to know Hermione felt complicated about Lucas as well just from seeing her through Lucas’ mind.

‘This perhaps… May be good…’ He thought, thinking of ways to keep Lucas tethered to what was right, a conflict he had been having within himself for a while now. Dumbledore's past discussions with Merlin’s painting had proven him right in keeping a closer eye on. Lucas may lose his way without someone to hold himself accountable for above all else, much like how Pansy was changing for the better because of Lucas. Before it was just his pet snake, but if Dumbledore could increase the amount of better influences around Lucas then even if he were to lose one he may not succumb to temptation.

Dumbledore looked back at the diary in his hands, seeing a lot of Tom in Lucas. Something that he knew Tom saw a lot of as well, hoping to conscript the young boy into his ranks as early as Lucas’ first year. ‘Ranks of what…?’ He pondered, staring more and more intently at the diary, a sickening feeling brimming inside of Dumbledore as his mind thought to darker and darker arts. Until stirring in the bed beside him caught his attention, Lucas awoke with immediate worry for Pansy bringing a smile to Dumbledore’s face.

As days passed on, Lucas asked to use the sword as a way to shear off the scales and utilize the poor Basilisk, as well as house his own Acromantula, unknowingly following in the footsteps of Hagrid. Dumbledore agreed, after seeing the Chamber for himself earlier and making sure that nothing else remained to be used as a weapon he felt comfortable enough to trust Lucas’ strange affinity with beasts in the sealed portion of the school he now knew about.

However, a surprise came about with a knock at his office door. After beckoning them inside, He looked up to see Hermione. “What can I do for you, Ms. Granger?” He asked, already guessing what it was based on the vial of orange liquid she played with between her fingers. She frowned as she held the vial tighter in her grip. “Lucas tried to give me this. It’s a forgetfulness potion.” 

Dumbledore slowly nodded while waving his hand towards the seat across from himself. Much had been done over the past days, Harry admitting to hearing words from the Basilisk sometimes adding to the puzzle of Tom’s games, giving Dumbledore another clue to help in his search for what possibly Tom did to do such a magic of sealing a portion of his past self. Also Harry let slip that Hermione lied about having memory problems during that time in the chamber, forcing Dumbledore to lie as well.

“Ah… I see…” He muttered gently, Hermione taking a seat nervously. “I’m so sorry I could only think of your name-” She started to apologize, but Dumbledore held up his hand, silently waving to get her to stop. “Please Ms. Granger, I do believe I now understand the situation you are in… Lucas has tried removing your memories of himself, and you have played the part of doing so…” Hermione meekly nodded, still wanting to apologize for using his name as part of her lie, clearly not very good at holding the guilt that came alongside withholding the truth.

“In the bed, he was watching me, and I thought it best to just fake taking it, but then I had to lie to everyone else. It doesn’t feel right.” She explained, frowning at the unsettling feeling in her chest. Dumbledore slowly nodded, not too pleased with what Lucas did, and feeling the need to push Hermione closer towards him to quell any thoughts of doing such a thing again. 

He slowly stood up, glancing out the window as he spoke, studying the front grounds outside. “You must understand Hermione… Not all lies are held with evil intent… You must place yourself in young Peterson’s shoes… Raised in a pureblooded home… Taught at a very early age to never let any weaknesses show… It is in his nature to never let his mask crack… Revealing what lies beneath...”

Dumbledore watched Hermione through the reflection of the glass, staring deeply at the small bottle clasped tightly in her hands. “However…” He started, turning around, and reaching inside his desk drawer as he continued. “What remains underneath… No matter how hidden… Still remains nonetheless…” He brought out a small golden plated necklace, a small holder on the end fit around an empty glass vial. He removed the empty glass, and presented the necklace to Hermione. “He may not know it now… But he will need friends… Even if he isn’t ready for them yet…”

Hermione licked her dry lips as she held up the necklace. She slowly placed the vial inside the holder, and wrapped it around her neck. The cold sensation of the glass against her chest made her wince, but it felt secure there as it slowly warmed from her chest. “There is a class next year…” Dumbledore spoke, waking her from her mind as she looked up to match his gaze, his gentle smile widening slightly as he spoke. “One I think you will be very interested in…”