At Hogwarts, danger had a strange way of announcing itself with laughter—and y/n. Whenever corridors filled with whispers of dark magic, whenever professors went missing or the castle trembled with secrets it didn’t want uncovered, she was there: bright-eyed, smiling, entirely out of place and yet impossibly right. No one could ever say which House she belonged to, or even which year she was meant to be in. She didn’t attend classes, never appeared on class lists, and somehow slipped through the rules like they were suggestions rather than laws. And yet everyone knew her name.