The days after the headmaster's speech marked a shift in the air at Durmstrang. The unease that had gripped the school was gradually fading, and while the aura of fear remained, life moved forward. For Dorian, the restless energy that had always simmered beneath the surface was now tempered by something else—something that had quietly grown stronger with each passing day: his bond with Lyra.
There had been a time when Dorian believed that anyone close to him would be a threat. Trust had never come easily to him, and he had spent years cultivating an existence built on solitary ambition. But Lyra… she was different. She had become his balance, his anchor, the one person who didn't seem to expect anything from him but his true self. And now, in a way that was both terrifying and grounding, she had become his first real friend.
Dorian found himself drawn to her more often than not. They had always spent time together discussing spells, magical theory, and their shared ambitions, but now, their time together felt different. The conversations were no longer just about power or strategy—they were about life, about understanding each other on a level deeper than mere allies.
That morning, Dorian found himself waiting outside the main hall for Lyra. The late autumn air was crisp, and the leaves on the trees that lined the path leading to the school's entrance were turning a deep shade of red. His breath came out in small, visible puffs as he leaned against the cold stone wall, arms crossed, waiting.
When Lyra finally appeared, she was bundled in her black cloak, her silver-lined scarf trailing behind her as she approached. She smiled when she saw him, her eyes bright in the morning light.
"Waiting for someone?" she teased as she reached him.
"Just someone who's always late," Dorian replied with a smirk, though his tone was light.
Lyra rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm never late, just fashionably delayed."
Dorian chuckled, falling into step beside her as they headed toward their usual spot—a quiet clearing near the edge of Durmstrang's grounds, far from the watchful eyes of professors and students. It had become their sanctuary over the past few weeks, a place where they could speak freely without worrying about who might be listening.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves the only noise around them. Dorian found himself glancing at Lyra every so often, a strange warmth blooming in his chest each time he caught sight of her in his periphery. It was a new feeling, one he wasn't entirely sure how to process, but it wasn't unwelcome.
When they finally reached the clearing, Lyra let out a soft sigh of relief, pulling her cloak tighter around her as she settled onto the large, flat rock they had unofficially claimed as their spot. Dorian sat beside her, their shoulders brushing lightly as they stared out at the misty landscape beyond.
"You've been quiet lately," Lyra said after a moment, her voice thoughtful. "More thoughtful than usual. What's been on your mind?"
Dorian hesitated. It wasn't like him to discuss his thoughts or feelings, even with Lyra, but something about the question made him pause. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the need to guard himself so fiercely.
"I've just been thinking about everything," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "About power, control… what all of this means in the end."
Lyra turned her head to look at him, her expression soft but curious. "And?"
"And… I don't know," Dorian continued, frowning slightly. "I've spent so long chasing after power, after revenge. It's been my whole life. But recently… I've started to wonder if that's enough. If power alone is really what I want."
He wasn't sure why he was saying this, why he was voicing thoughts he hadn't even fully formed in his own mind. But Lyra had a way of drawing things out of him without even trying, and now that the words were spilling from his mouth, he couldn't stop them.
"Power without purpose is empty," Lyra said quietly, echoing the thoughts Dorian hadn't been able to put into words. "But that doesn't mean you can't find a way to balance it. You can have power, Dorian, but you don't have to lose yourself to it."
Dorian let out a slow breath, the weight of her words sinking in. He had always known Lyra was different—that she saw the world in shades of grey where he saw black and white. But more and more, he was beginning to understand that maybe her way of thinking wasn't weakness. Maybe it was a strength he hadn't allowed himself to consider.
"I'm starting to see that," Dorian said, glancing over at her. "But it's… difficult. I've been following this path for so long that I don't know if I can change it. Or if I even want to."
Lyra's gaze softened, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other in the quiet of the clearing. There was no judgment in her eyes, no expectation. Just understanding.
"You don't have to change who you are," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you can decide how you use the power you have. You don't have to let it control you."
Dorian's chest tightened at her words. He had spent so long letting the dark magic guide him, fuel him, but for the first time, he wondered if it was possible to steer it in a different direction. To control it without letting it consume him.
"You make it sound so simple," he said with a small, bitter laugh.
"It's not," Lyra replied, her expression serious. "But it's possible. You just have to want it."
Dorian didn't reply, but the silence between them felt charged with unspoken things. He could feel the bond between them growing stronger, solidifying in a way that went beyond mere friendship. It was trust, yes, but it was something more. Lyra had become his anchor in a world that had always felt unsteady beneath his feet.
"I don't think I've ever had a real friend before," Dorian said quietly, almost to himself. The admission felt strange on his tongue, vulnerable in a way he wasn't used to.
Lyra smiled softly, her gaze never leaving his. "Well, now you do."
Dorian felt something shift inside him at her words, something he couldn't quite explain. It wasn't the same dark hunger that had driven him for so long. It was… lighter, somehow. More human.
They stayed there for a long time, sitting in comfortable silence as the sun began to set behind the distant mountains. Dorian wasn't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn't walking the path alone.
As the shadows lengthened around them, Lyra eventually stood, stretching slightly before offering Dorian her hand. He took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet.
"Come on," she said with a playful smile. "Let's head back before someone starts wondering where we are."
Dorian chuckled, following her as they began the walk back toward the school. But as they moved through the fading light, he couldn't shake the sense that something had changed. Something important.
Maybe, just maybe, Lyra was right. Maybe there was another way.
As they approached the castle, the looming stone walls coming into view, Dorian cast a sideways glance at Lyra. She had been right about a lot of things, and though his ambition still burned brightly within him, he knew now that there was more to life than power.
For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to have both. Power, and something more.
And as long as Lyra was by his side, he felt like he might actually have a chance.