That night, in the Slytherin dormitory, Germy sat by the window long after everyone else had gone to bed. The rain outside left streaks on the stone, tracing the moonlight into crooked patterns. She opened a small silver locket resting against her collarbone. Inside, it was nothing. No photo, no crest, no trace of sentiment. Just a hollow circle of metal that caught the light like an unspoken name.
Her reflection in the glass was soft, almost sweet, but she didn't smile.
Instead, she whispered something under her breath and pressed the empty locket to her lips.
The next morning, she walked into Potions class like she'd always been there.
Professor Slughorn introduced her again with his usual cheer, "Miss Nott, one of our promising young Slytherins! A keen mind, I'm told."
"Thank you, Professor," she said softly, voice smooth as if rehearsed.
Harry and Ron shared a look when she took the empty seat beside Hermione.
Hermione kept her quill poised, trying not to be obvious. But she watched Germy's movements, how she seemed to know where every ingredient was kept.
When their hands brushed over a shared jar of crushed bezoar, Germy gave a small smile, "Sorry."
Her tone was perfectly ordinary, but her eyes lingered too long.
Hermione blinked, unsettled by something she couldn't name.
Halfway through class, Slughorn paired them off, "Potter and Nott, you'll work together today!"
Harry felt a flicker of unease as Germy turned toward him.
She tied her hair back loosely, leaned closer, and said, "Hello, Harry, right? I've read about you, but I'd rather see how you actually work."
He frowned slightly, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that people talk," she said, "And talk never tells the truth."
She said it so softly, so reasonably, that he didn't know whether to be wary or intrigued.
By the end of class, their potion was perfect, a silvery brew that shimmered like moonlight on glass.
Slughorn clapped his hands, delighted, "Excellent, you two! Just look at that!"
Ron, whose cauldron was producing something closer to swamp water, muttered, "Brilliant... He's found his new favorite."
Harry pretended not to notice Germy's faint smirk as Slughorn praised them again.
When class ended, she gathered her books neatly and turned to him, "Thanks, Harry," she said, tone soft, "You're not what I expected."
"Neither are you," he replied before he could stop himself.
Her smile deepened, almost warm, "Good."
And with that, she was walking through the dungeon archway like she belonged to its shadows.
At dinner that evening, Ron was quieter than usual. He watched Germy from across the hall, his fork idle against his plate.
"She's weird," he said finally, "Nice, but weird."
Hermione didn't look up, but she knew for sure who Ron was talking about, "She's dangerous, and I don't mean because of her family."
Harry stayed silent.