La Vie en Rose

Summary: The best thing about being seen as nothing more than pitiful, traumatized children is that no one would believe it possible for any of them to conspire with the Fae to kidnap the Girl-Who-Lived. FemHarry.

Just a warning: FemHarry, AU, Language, Clichés, Non-Cannon Character Death, More in the Future…

Just so you know (Name): FemHarry's name is Andromeda Rhoswen Potter. The name Andromeda means "Ruler/Protector of Men" and was the name of an Ethiopian princess whose mother angered the gods. To placate the gods, Andromeda was fastened to a rock to be used as a sacrifice to a sea monster, from which she was rescued by Perseus. In astronomy, Andromeda is a large northern constellation between Perseus and Pegasus as well a galaxy located two inmillion light years away. Rhoswen is a Welsh name meaning "White Rose" as well as "Fair/Blessed Rose".

I don't own anything related to Twisted Wonderland or Harry Potter!

Chapter 12. Mushrooms for Surprises

YMIR

The sun had barely risen when they stepped out of the house and ventured into the brisk morning air outside. Ymir pursued his lips as he stared at the narrow, crooked path leading away from his house and disappearing into the dense, shadowed forest loaming around them.

A heavy feeling hung in the air, and it took a lot from him to not give into his paranoia and fear every time he glanced at a too odd-looking shadow or heard the occasional scratchy caw from the ravens that were definitely staring at him from their perch on the gnarled branches of the nearby trees.

He let out a shaky sigh, wishing he could turn back and lock himself in his lab with his research and experiments.

But he couldn't do that.

It was finally time to leave for the Night Raven College – to return to the place where his life first started to go downhill after a series of bad decisions – and, above all else, it was time for him to start praying for the girl to have a smooth and simple school life. After all, Ymir knew very well that if anything happened to her, death would be nothing short of a blessing when compared to what the Lord of Shadows would do to him.

"Do you think they will send the carriage to the city?" Baldur asked excitedly, holding the straps of his extremely large camping bag. "Or should we try another method to get to the Sage's Island?"

Ymir pressed his lips together in a thin line, glaring at his feet in thought before shooting a look at Andromeda who adjusting her surprisingly well-worn red and gold scarf. To him, it looked extremely out of place when used by someone like her; otherworldly and so poisonously beautiful that she seemed to shine under the faint morning light.

It was a contradiction of human and inhuman that always caught him off guard.

"Did the Lord of Shadows say anything to you on how we'll be getting to the school?" Ymir asked, grimacing when he didn't manage to hold the disgust and hatred from his tone.

He bit down his tongue when the air chilled. A shiver ran down his spine, and the unnecessary reminder that they were always being watched echoed in his ears.

"He didn't say anything about a carriage," Andromeda said softly, shoving her gloved hands into the pockets of her flowing cloak. Ymir wondered if the small Fair One could even feel the cold or if she was just dressed like that in an attempt of blending in better with the poor and unsuspecting mortals. "But Grandfather did tell me something about some kind of legacy treatment in school... if that helps in any way..."

"Wonderful," Baldur grinned. "That means we do get the carriage!"

And no coffin, Ymir thought.

He had never understood why the new students who didn't belonged to families tied to NRC somehow had to lay on a coffin when being taken to the school for the sorting ceremony. And yes, Professor Trein had explained about it once during his first year. The only problem was that, like all his former classmates, Ymir had never managed to stay awake during the old man's lessons for long enough to learn more than some random tidbits about their world history.

It was possible that Baldur knew why the coffins were used, but Ymir wasn't in the mood to listen to an entire lecture about the subject. Especially not when he knew they would have to walk for hours to reach the city.

"Don't make that face now," Baldur said, a little suspicious as he squinted his eyes at the purple-haired scientist.

"You don't even know what I'm thinking about," Ymir grumbled.

"I don't need to," his assistant rolled his eyes. "It is easy to guess you're complaining about something in your thoughts. Look, I know you don't like that we are going back to NRC, but you really should try to be more positive."

"Positive?" Ymir hissed in disbelief.

"Yes! For example, you should enjoy the walk to the city since we rarely go on hikes together!"

With a scoff, he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and mumbled under his breath, "Enjoy the walk to the city, he says. As if trudging through miles of mud is the same thing as a walk in the park."

Baldur made a face. "I don't see the problem."

Ymir shot him a scornful look, glaring down at his clothes before his eyes flickered to the camping equipment and ridiculous scout uniform his assistant had with him. Baldur didn't notice anything though, far too distracted with starting a conversation with one of squirrels that lived nearby and decided to follow them for a while.

"You know what?" Ymir snapped, marching onward. "Let's just go. We don't have time for chitchat."

"What? Hey! Ymir, wait!"

Ymir ignored the other mage, boots crunching against the earth. The forest loomed over them, its towering trees standing like silent sentinels, their bare branches interlocked in a tangled canopy. He could hear Baldur following him with the girl, but didn't look back. Both because he was far too irritated with his dark-eyed assistant and because he was afraid that, if he looked back at the comforting silhouette of his house being swallowed by the misty folds of the forest, he would run back home no matter how scared he was of the consequences of such decision.

He shook his head and clenched his fists, focusing on the path ahead.


It took ten miles to get from his little isolated house to the city. Or rather, twelve miles if one took the time to consider the fact that they needed to make several stops so Ymir could check on the girl whenever his sharp eyes caught the way her hands were shaking.

So, by the time the capital came into view, the warm, golden light of the sun cast long shadows on everything under its sights as it slowly disappeared into the horizon. Ymir hesitated a little, lips pressed into a thin line and face twisted with a grimace as they approached the city gates. The mere sight of the gates' thick wooden planks adorned with intricate carvings made him sick and he had to take a moment to calm himself and push back the memories trying overwhelm him.

When, he wondered briefly, was the last time he even saw Intihuaca? Not since his exile, he thought a second later with a shaky sigh, pulling the hood of his jacket up and lowering his head in fear someone would recognize him.

"Welcome to the Sacred City of the Sun!" Baldur announced with a loud whisper, leaning closer to Andromeda who was staring at her surroundings with wide eyes.

"It's beautiful," the girl said.

Ymir scoffed a little. While he could admit that Intihuaca was superficially beautiful with the way its structure unfolded like a shimmering mosaic beneath the sun, Ymir had stopped having anything good to say about this place long ago. What did care about a city where everyone turned their backs on him for mistakes he made as a young man? What did he care for the people who turned a blind eye to the mistakes made by a snot-nosed brat who had always treated them all as though they were nothing more than glorified servants?

"Where do you think the carriage is?" Baldur asked, beaming with a hint of nostalgia as he glanced around the colossal plaza localized in the heart of the city.

Ymir looked back at the other man, immediately crushing the guilt that threatened to choke him at the sight Baldur made.

Look, he was a selfish man. Ymir couldn't and won't acknowledge the fact that while he wanted nothing to do with the city after his was exiled, Baldur hadn't felt the same. His assistant had actually missed the streets paved with gleaming obsidian tiles and the bustling markets overflowed with traders selling a cacophony of jewel-toned fabrics, carved gourds, and copper trinkets, but chose to stay away because he knew that the mere mention of the city made Ymir's uncomfortable.

"Must be around here," Ymir mumbled. "It is impossible to miss it."

He stayed half hidden behind one of the stalls, scanning their surroundings and ignoring the voices raised in barter and the familiar sharp clatter of pottery. By the corner of his eyes, he saw Baldur gently pushing Andromeda towards a group of street performers and laughing as he shook his head with the rhythmic beat of the wooden flutes played. Ymir sighed, unable to be annoyed with assistant's lack of cooperation when the other mage looked so genuinely happy.

The purple-haired scientist paused, squinting his eyes through the lines of stalls and staring down the street. He pressed his lips into a thin line when he confirmed that yes, he had seen right. There was a familiar carriage beneath a dim, flickering glow of a streetlamp on the darkest part of the street, close to the shadows made by the mountains surrounding the city. It looked just the same as he last saw it all those years ago; elegant and made of an enchanted black wood that shone even in the darkest night.

Involuntarily, his eyes flickered towards the school insignia embossed on its side. He flinched at the sight, a shiver running down his back as he heard the echo of cold and mocking laugher.

The mage drew in a deep, steadying breath, planting his feet more firmly on the ground to keep himself from bolting out of there. Instead, he turned his head and whistled, catching Baldur's attention.

"Did you find it?" he asked as he approached Ymir who merely grumbled and made a motion with his head. Baldur followed his line of sight and grinned before patting Andromeda's shoulder when she caught up with them. "Ready to go?!"

She blinked slowly, tilting her head much like a bird and gave the large man an amused look. "I do believe so, yes."

Wonderful, at least one of us is actually ready, Ymir thought sarcastically.

He swallowed the urge to laugh hysterically the closer they got to the carriage, knowing very well that this was the end of the line for him. From now on, he would be living in the very territory of the monster who haunted his every nightmare while also watching over the granddaughter of said monster, hoping and praying that the girl didn't as much as break a nail under his watch.

When they approached the carriage, a ghost footman materialized soundlessly beside it. Ymir tensed, knowing that only mages of considerable power could retain their human appearance after death while weaker ones looked more like blobs.

The footman's transparent form shimmered faintly as he bowed. He was tall and thin, with the sort of upright posture that suggested a lifetime – or perhaps several centuries depending on how powerful he once was – of servitude. His uniform was a faded echo of grandeur: a long, double-breasted coat with gleaming brass buttons, polished boots, and a high, starched cravat that was slightly askew. There was a cut rope tied around his neck and Ymir didn't even need to think about how he died, wincing a little.

"Merry Meet," he said, voice carrying a more archaic version of the accent common in the Queendoom of Roses. "You three must be my passengers for the night."

Ymir didn't say a word while Baldur waved his hand with a grin and Andromeda curtsied carefully but still elegantly.

"Merry Meet, sir," she said.

The ghost straightened his back, doing a double take when he looked at Andromeda, staring at her face and eyes with something akin to recognition before his form flickered from existence for a second. Ymir snorted with a pleased curl of his lips. The footman looked like he would die again just by being the girl's presence.

It was always nice to know he wasn't the only one terrified by the sight of that face. Or that those eyes were enough to give anyone a heart attack.

"Y-Your Highness," the footman swallowed, ghostly hands twitching as though he wished to make himself more presentable. "M-May I have your luggage, please?"

He was practically begging for it, as though his afterlife depended on it.

Andromeda didn't have anything with her since one of the watchers her Grandfather placed on her had already taken her trunk away that morning. So, she looked at Ymir before her otherworldly green-eyes flickered to the enormous backpack Baldur had with him.

Taking the cue, the two mages silently threw their bags at the footman's feet, one more carefully than the other. The footman jumped like frightened little kitten; having apparently forgotten they were there.

"Don't break anything," Ymir grumbled. "Some of the Potions I have with me are more expensive than anything you have ever seen in your unlife."

With that said, the scientist threw the carriage's door open, jumping over the steps and taking his seat. He heard Baldur mumbling something to the footman before the younger man helped Andromeda inside the carriage and sliding on the space beside him. The door closed on its own, locking with a loud click.

"Is the carriage charmed?" Andromeda asked, placing her hands over her lap and looking around curiously. She didn't even blink when the carriage started moving up, the city getting smaller and smaller the higher the carriage got. "There isn't any kind of horses."

Ymir paused, hand stopping halfway as he pulled a notepad and a pen from the pocket of his jacket so he could write some of his experiments plans during the trip.

He opened his mouth to answer but Baldur cut him off.

"Usually," the dark-haired man said, "they only use the carriages pulled by winged horses like pegasi to get students who live closer to the school. Charmed carriages like this one are left for anyone who lives too far away."

"It is cheaper to make the division," Ymir finally said his piece, voice as dry as the desert in the Scalding Lands. "The Headmage doesn't want to waste money with getting more than a few charmed carriages, nor does he want to pay even more for the maintenance of each carriage to be made each three months like it is asked by law." He made a pause, thinking for a moment and then added, "Crowley is a greedy man-child and you should keep your distance from him."

If there was one Fair One Ymir would fight head on, it was Crowley. The Headmage was a fool and a shameless bastard who had no trouble taking bribes for the smallest things, and Ymir had no doubt that the Lord of Shadows kept him around just because it was more convenient that way (Either that or because he thought that watching the students having to deal with the Crow Fae was a great form entertainment).

"He isn't so bad," Baldur protested weakly.

Ymir turned to stare at him.

"Really?" he asked, daring the other man to come up with some weak defense for Crowley.

"He keeps the students safe..."

Baldur had managed to make that sound like a question despite it not being one.

"Really?" Ymir drawled with a pointed look.

His assistant grimaced, broad shoulders dropping in defeat.

Andromeda watched them for a moment, lips curling down slightly as she leaned against the window and closed her eyes. As much as she wished to speak up and warn them about the Headmage they saw as weak willed, she couldn't.

After all, the less they knew, the less chance of them catching the old bird's interest.


BALDUR

Baldur winced a little as he jumped out of the carriage, rubbing his neck. The footman materialized beside him, wriggling transparent fingers nervously as he watched Andromeda step out of the carriage slowly after Ymir made his way out as well.

"Your luggage will be moved to your room, so you may proceed to the Mirror Chamber," he said. The ghost paused then his eyes pale eyes flickered towards Andromeda and he added quickly, "N-Not that this lowly footman is telling you to do anything, y-your highness! I merely –"

"We get it," Ymir snapped, already out of patience with the ghost.

Usually, Baldur would've scolded the other man; the poor ghost hadn't truly done anything to make him so irritated. But he knew himself enough to admit that he also getting fed up with the attitude, especially when he saw tense and uncomfortable Andromeda got whenever the footman staring at her with a mix of awe and fear in his pale eyes.

Making a quick decision, he grasped their charge' shoulders gently and grinned a little at the dead man. "If you excuse us, we are late for the Sorting Ceremony!"

Baldur turned Andromeda around, leading her towards the main gates with a grumbling Ymir following them. The gates creaked open on its own, and the large man felt a smile on his lips as he looked around, happy to see the school again after so many years; from the sprawling, cobblestoned courtyard to the imposing visage of the castle with its dark stones and central tower dominating the skyline.

"Did you get the ceremonial robes?" Ymir asked Andromeda as they walked towards the castle.

She nodded slowly, looking around with curiosity.

"Yes, it is under my cloak. Grandfather told me it was important," she replied a little absentmindedly. Neither man noticed how long she stared at two of the statues of the Great Seven when they walked past the main road, recognition flashing in her eyes.

"Well, he isn't wrong. It's tradition to use the robes and you could be reprimanded if you use anything else." Baldur made a grabbing motion with his hands, "Give your cloak to me, and I'll carry it until after the ceremony."

"And keep the hood of your robes up," Ymir said, clenching and unclenching his hands with pursued lips as he stared at the looming castle.

He gave his boss a concerned look, knowing the older mage had never wanted to return to this place. But he didn't say anything, not wishing to push Ymir and make things worse for him. Instead, Baldur focused on Andromeda.

"I don't think she needs the hood," Baldur shook his head, helping Andromeda with her cloak.

"Baldur," Ymir said. Baldur turned to look at him, taken aback by the dark expression on the other mage's face. "Look at her again."

Slowly, Baldur turned to stare at Andromeda who blinked back confusedly. She looked beautiful even in the dark purple ceremonial robes, looking delicate with the – He froze, thoughts coming to a halt as he finally understood what the problem was.

"Oh," he mumbled, quickly moving to pull her hood up her head.

While there were girls in NRC, his one sister being an example, their numbers were few in between when compared to the level of testosterone that ruled over the castle. Because of this, they were seen as easy target and had to fight tooth and nail to keep any alpha-wannabe from bothering them. And, unfortunately, someone like Andromeda who was clearly beautiful, delicate and so very hurt was nothing more than a walking target to ill-intentioned rich boys.

"Is there something wrong?" the little princess asked softly, concerned.

"No," they said, sharing a discreet look.

They would need a game plan for what they were going to do tomorrow. There would be no hiding her gender or looks with the school uniform, and if any of the boys decided to use their non-existed authority over her... Baldur shuddered. He doubted the Lord of Shadows would have any problem shredding children into little pieces.

"Think we can get her into Savanaclaw?" Baldur whispered, leaning close to Ymir. "There are rules in the dorm to support and protect any girl that is sorted there."

Ymir's face twisted with disbelief. "Do you want the girl to bleed out in the middle of the dorm before her first week is over?"

Baldur clamped his mouth shut with a grimace, nodding his head in understanding because fair – He knew very well from his own time in school that while girls were protected in Savanaclaw, they weren't by no means coddled. If Andromeda ended up in his former dorm, her new hotheaded dormmates would try to transform her in a tiny fighting machine in an attempt of helping her defend herself against the rest of the school. And, good intentions or not, that would probably do more harm than good.

There was something uncomfortable in the air as they walked up a flight of stone steps and made their way through the huge, iron front door after it opened to allow to pass. Andromeda seemed to notice this and asked softly about the green flames that illuminated the stone corridors of the castle before moving to ask where they would be going. Baldur smiled a little at her small act of kindness, welcoming the topic of the conversation. He and Ymir could think of a plan later that night.

They passed by several moving portraits, some doing a double take when they saw Andromeda but none of them bothered the trio. Baldur was explaining about each classroom they passed by on the way to the Mirror Chamber before he stopped abruptly, recalling something.

"Wait!"

Andromeda blinked, turning to look at Baldur with concern.

Ymir stopped as well, sighing. "What now?"

"We need to take a picture!" Baldur said, eyes wide as though there was nothing more important in life and he couldn't believe he almost forgot about it. None of them noticed the way Andromeda flinched in surprise.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ymir took a moment to breathe before he gave his assistant a look that said volumes about what he was thinking about the idea. "…Why?"

"The Sorting Ceremony is one of the most important moments in the life of a NRC student," Baldur announced, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin proudly. "We need to save this memory for the future!"

"You can do it after the ceremony," Ymir replied slowly, gritting his teeth.

"But that will be a whole different memory," Baldur pouted, managing to look like a kicked puppy despite his size.

"And let me guess," the scientist drawled, "you'll want to take more pictures."

"Exactly!" Baldur grinned. "I knew you would agree with me!"

"I did no such thing, idiot!"

Andromeda's eyes flickered from one man to the other, blinking slowly as her expression softened (This scene was rather familiar, wasn't it? Colin – sweet, puppy-like Colin – used to have a lot of arguments like that with Ron before he died).

"A picture would be nice," Andromeda whispered softly, cutting the argument short before it escalated.

The duo turned to look at her. Ymir opened his mouth to protest but Baldur didn't give him time to do anything, phone in hand and pulling them close with a single arm.

"Ok! Ready?" Baldur didn't wait for an answer, hugging the other two with a smile on his face. "Spinach puff!"

Folding his arms, Ymir rolled his eyes as the picture was taken. Andromeda didn't smile – couldn't smile – but there was a small glint of fondness and contentment hidden under the veil of heartbroken nostalgia clouding her eyes.

Baldur let them go and looked down at the picture, tracing their features. Silently, he promised to take many more pictures in the future, to do his best to get them to smile. He smiled to himself and continued walking towards the Mirror Chamber.

They found a crowd of students gathered before the entrance of the chamber, most of them shifting nervously or trying to maintain the illusion of bravado. They stood in the far back of the crowd, avoiding catching anyone's attention and following in silence when the double doors opened. Ymir took a deep breath, holding Andromeda's arm as though he wanted to avoid losing her.

The moment they stepped inside the chamber, the doors behind them closed slowly. And, without the long and strong line of light coming from the torch-lit corridor, the chamber became so dark that the only thing they could see were two weak, candle-like green flames shivering on the wall behind the fountain at the center of the chamber. Whispers broke out when nothing happened. Though it was difficult to see, he noticed how some of the new students moved closer to the walls, hissing at and threatening one another in a poor attempting of hiding their discomfort about the ominous air that had taken over the chamber.

"How exciting!" Baldur whispered, practically vibrating in place like a little kid on sugar high.

He couldn't see it, but he certainly felt the glare Ymir sent in his direction.

The purple-haired mage hissed. "Why? It's the same thing every single year."

Baldur never got the chamber to answer, being interrupted by the sound of footsteps reverberated throughout the chamber. His muscles tensed a little before he turned to see a rather familiar silhouette now standing in front of the fountain.

Little by little, the students also noticed the same thing and the whispers faded away until there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, the flames of the two torches burst into life, casting an eerie glow upon the familiar figure of the Headmage and illuminating his features in a rather eerie way.

"Allow me to welcome you to our Night Raven College," Crowley smiled largely and Baldur unconsciously reached out to grab Andromeda's other arm, recalling all the times he saw that same smile. The Fair One continued, his voice echoed through the chamber as he continued, "the pinnacle of magical excellence and the sanctuary where your talents will be nurtured, your potential unleashed, and your brilliance shall be forged from the very fires of destiny!"

He spread his arms wide, his gestures as sweeping as his words.

Baldur jumped a little when some of the kids around him yelped, stepping away from the walls as the green flames of the torches illuminating the chambers burst with life, flickering and twisting until it calmed down. There was a heavy feeling over them as seven figures stepped from the shadows behind Crowley, moving until they revealed a familiar mirror.

And, although it wasn't the first time he saw it, Baldur still leaned forward to get a better look, impressed as always by the Dark Mirror.

It was magnificent with an oval silhouette that took up almost an entire wall. Its frame, which was made of ebony and intricately gilded, had a snakelike golden rope wrapped around the frame that had ancient runes etched along its edges that pulsed faintly with power like a heartbeat. It was the surface of the glass, though, that pulled anyone in; unnaturally smooth and shimmering faintly in rather ominous way.

He glanced down at Andromeda to see her reaction to mirror but she merely staring at it with a blank look on her face. Aside from her right thump, which was brushing the stone of her ring absentmindedly, she didn't move a single muscle. Briefly, Baldur wondered if she could see or feel something that he and the other occupants of the chamber couldn't. If, maybe, there was more about the Dark Mirror than just an ancient, enchanted artifact that had once belonged to the former Queen of the castle.

"Tonight," Baldur turned his attention back to Crowley when the Fair One spoke once more, "you stand on the threshold of your magical journey. Before you are the chosen Housewardens of the Seven Dorms, each steeped in the legacy of one of the Great Seven – each embodying the virtues and vices, triumphs and trials, which you, too, may come to embrace or overcome."

There was a moment of silence. Some of the kids leaned forward, anxious and excited to learn more, and Baldur had to give it to Crowley. He was ridiculously childish at times but there was no denying that he was a good showman.

"They shall be your guides through your schooling, but remember this: no matter whichever dorm you are chosen for, your journey from here on will be just as challenging as it will be rewarding." Crowley gave them a lopsided smirk to the gathered students, his tone growing softer, yet no less impactful, "Your dormmates will become your family, your rivals will sharpen your talents, and your experiences will shape the mages you are destined to be!" Crowley bowed deeply, taking off his hat and resting it close to his heart as he extended his other arm. "So, without further ado, let us see where the Dark Mirror shall place you!"

At the name, the mirror began to smoke and a face began to take shape — ethereal, ghostly pale, and suffused with a peculiar wisdom despite being devoid of any emotion. It was nothing more than a jester-like beige mask appeared clearly, there wasn't anything scary about it yet a single glance from its empty eye sockets was enough to send a shiver down the spine of every occupant in the chamber.

"Please step forward for your judgment," Crowley said from beside the mirror, hands behind his back.

There was a moment of silence.

Baldur and Ymir shared a knowing look, waiting for the it to click. It took a while, maybe two or three minutes before the students started exchanging hesitant glances, the realization dawning slowly but surely that they were the one who needed to take the initiative and approach the mirror themselves. There won't be any kind of roll call, no guiding hand, no pointed command, just the silent expectation hanging in the room like a heavy and unnerving fog. The face on the mirror loomed, the surface rippling faintly as if impatient, staring and waiting for someone — anyone — to prove themselves.

No one moved though.

Baldur felt sympathy for the kids, having been in their place before. He was saw beads of sweat trickled down the temple of one boy at the front, his face pale and uncertain as he twirled his fingers. Near the back, there was one person holding the arm of a bear beastman, and who Baldur was sure was a girl, who kept shifting their weight from one foot to another while casting a wary glance over their shoulder as though searching for an escape route. All the students were showing their unwillingness to step forward, frozen in place and caught between awe and fear.

Then, a snort echoed through the chamber, breaking the silence.

"Well... this is awkward."

All heads whipped around towards the back of the crowd to find the source of the voice. It was a tall, wiry boy with an easy grin that somehow managed to look both charming and insolent. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and his unkempt hair fell in waves over his gauntly face. He stood with lazy confidence, leaning against one of the ornate columns as though this entire situation was some grand show.

He pushed off the column, his grin widening as he took in the sea of frozen faces. "What's the matter? Are ya all really scared the big, bad mirror will bite ya?" he drawled. His speech was slightly slurred, as if perpetually tipsy, with pauses being made every so often. When no one responded, his smirk deepened into something almost predatory and amused. "Really?" Some of the students glared at him while others shifted and shuffled nervously. He laughed, rolling his eyes dramatically, "Fine, if none of ya landlubbers have the guts, I guess it's up to me."

He started making his way through the crowd, saying loudly things like 'Excuse me, coming through. Don't mind me'. At some point, he gave an exaggerated shove to the shoulder of the sweat boy in the front, making stumble forward. The boy caught himself, glaring at the dark-haired mage, who merely waved him off casually.

"My bad, mate," he said, moving forward once with a prowling stride that seemed to be slightly off-balance, as if he might tip over at any moment, but somehow managed to right himself.

The gathered students watched, transfixed, as he approached the Dark Mirror. When he reached it, he paused, looking up at its towering height. He cocked his head, studying the mirror with curiosity.

When it spoke, the mask's voice was just as low and silky as Baldur remembered, each word slithering into the air wrapping around each student as though an enchantment was being cast.

"State thy name."

The boy grinned. With an exaggerated bow and a flourish of his hand, he said playfully. "Jasper Storme, a pleasure really."

The flames around them flared and the mask hummed. The new students seemed to hold their breath in unison, staring with unblinking eyes.

The boy stared at the mirror, his posture stiffening a little despite how relaxed he tried to look, and when the voice of the mirror spoke up again, "The shape of thy soul… shines with ambition and cunning. I see within thee the makings of a leader, one made of cleverness and daring, a wanderer unbound by rules or convention. Thou walk a path of freedom, though it is often shadowed by chaos. Thou shall find thy home in — Octavinelle!"

One of the housewardens stepped forward, torchlight illuminating his features. He was a fair-skinned young man with short, wavy light-gray hair which parted on his right side and flipped up at the ends, with one long lock of hair framing the left side of his face. His eyes were a bluish-purple color and there was a small beauty mark below his lip on the left side of his face. Everything about him looked professional but knowing how that particular dorm worked and seeing his calculating gaze was enough for Baldur to vow to keep Andromeda away from this boy.

"I'm Azul Ashengrotto, the Housewarden of Octavinelle," the boy said to Jasper, his smile looking far too sweet and polite to be anything but fake. "Please, wait aside until the end of the ceremony."

Jasper arched his eyebrows before he nodded, waving cheekily at the crowd of new students and walking to a corner of the chamber so he could wait there.

"That one will be a problem," Ymir grumbled, staring at the Azul boy with narrowed eyes.

Baldur nodded, happy that he wasn't the only one who noticed. Thankfully, even if his boss still wasn't completely comfortable in Andromeda's presence, he could trust the scientist to keep her safe at any cost.

The tension in the room had finally cracked but no other student approached the mirror. Some looked like they were going to do it, even going so far as pushing their friends forward, but they hesitated. Baldur turned to ask Andromeda what she thought about the sorting so far only to stared in growing horror when he finally noticed that he was no longer holding her arm and that she was now walking towards the mirror. He moved to get to her and bring her back but Ymir's hand shot out to grab the back of his shirt.

"No," the purple-eyed man hissed sharply. "Let her go. The faster she gets this over with, the better."

"I wanted her to go last," Baldur whispered.

Ymir snorted. "Don't be stupid. Something always goes wrong with the last student. It's bad luck – Remember that kid from Heartslabyul during your sorting ceremony?"

Baldur made a face. Yes, he did remember that poor kid. He had somehow tripped in his own robes and managed to pull his housewarden with him, using the older student as cushion. Then, a fire started because he panicked and had no control over his Signature Spell, giving the housewarden first-degree burns all over his body from the incident and almost getting expelled on the first day. The kid had been lucky the Heartslabyul Housewarden at the time was just a normal legacy student and not the son of a rich family or one of the more high-profile students, otherwise, he would have faced jail time for assault. Or worse.

He bit his tongue, pursuing his lips a little before giving a nod, stepping back closer to Ymir.

They watched as Andromeda walked to the mirror slowly, the sounds of her footsteps echoing in the chamber. Her face wasn't visible because of the hood of her robes but she still managed to pull everyone's attention, someone craning their necks to watch or straightening their backs with incredulity and surprise written all over their faces. Baldur frowned a little when he saw the way the Headmage tilted his head, bright yellow eyes glowing behind his mask in a way that made the dark-haired mage shiver a little.

Something told him that wasn't a good sign.

There was a moment of silence when Andromeda stopped before the mirror, only broken by a few whispers. She curtsied as well as she could in her robes and without hurting herself. She then straitened her back, head raised like the little princess she was.

Her mirror didn't do as expected, neither asking for her name nor announcing her dorm. Its silence caused alarm bells to blare loudly in his head. Baldur could feel his heart to rip itself from his ribcage, hands shaking as the mirror's surface rippled violently, then glowed with an unearthly light. Andromeda didn't as much blink as the mask seemed to move closer in the mirror's surface, staring at her.

"Fuck," Ymir hissed.

Baldur felt a little faint.

"Beneath the silver gaze of the moon, I greet thee, Shadow Child, whose steps leave constellations in thy wake," the mask spoke softly, its deep, resonant baritone filling the chamber. "Thy presence brightens the very stars, and the moon bow before you. State thy name, wandering child, and bid me — what brings thee beyond the veil?"

"Fuck," Baldur mumbled, ears ringing.

He could only stare at Andromeda's back as she tilted her head in that bird-like way of hers, praying she would just say her name and move on. But he wasn't stupid, he recognized a formal greeting when he heard one and knew that just saying her name wasn't an option now.

"In the breath between dusk and dawn, I offer my respect, Eternal One," she said. "You, who bear the weight of names long forgotten. Know the night and the shadows remember its own, and I am but a thread in its woven tapestry of fate. They call me Andromeda, and I ask — what truths do you carry from the depths of the unseen?"

The Mirror Chamber fell into an unnatural silence, as if the very air had been drawn out of the room. All eyes were fixed on Andromeda and murmurs rippled through the gathered students; hushed whispers exchanged like wildfire. More heads craned, necks stretched, and even the seven housewardens seemed to focus on the small girl. The tension was tangible, and Baldur caught more than one student smirking or grinning widely, eyes lighting up with something he really didn't want to decipher at the moment, scared he would lose any and all composure if he did.

"Fuck," Ymir repeated, looking like he wanted to collapse and scream. Baldur wasn't too far behind him, gripping his chest in despair. "The fucking mirror just made her the most interesting person in the whole school!"

How were they going to keep her safe now?

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Cissnei.