Harry had just finished tucking the summoning card away when something went wrong.
Not loud. Not violent.
Just… inevitable.
The card pulsed once inside his Inventory.
Then again.
Harry froze. “System?”
[Alert.] [Unauthorized activation detected.]
“I didn’t touch it!”
[Correction: You mentally acknowledged reliance.]
The golden summoning card tore itself free from Harry’s Inventory, manifesting in midair. Runes ignited across its surface, spinning rapidly as controlled magic flooded the dormitory.
The stone floor responded.
A summoning circle unfolded beneath Harry’s feet—precise, elegant, layered with safeguards. It hummed softly, drawing not just on Harry’s magic, but stabilizing itself through some deeper, more ancient framework.
[ERROR.] [Summoning threshold exceeded.] […This is outside predicted parameters.]
The card shattered into silver light.
The circle flared.
And someone stepped forward.
She emerged fully formed, standing calmly at the center of the circle as if she had merely crossed a doorway rather than a dimensional boundary.
She was tall and composed, dressed in a pristine maid’s uniform reinforced with subtle, near-invisible enchantments. Long silver hair flowed neatly down her back, immaculate and untouched by the magic swirling around her. Her crimson eyes were sharp, intelligent, and immediately aware of everything in the room.
She surveyed the space in a single glance.
Beds. Trunks. Windows. Harry.
Then she inclined her head with perfect formality.
“I am Grayfia Lucifuge,” she said calmly. “And I have been summoned.”
Harry stared.
The System went very quiet.
[…Oh.]
Grayfia’s gaze flicked slightly to the side, not looking directly at the floating text—yet clearly aware of it.
“A system construct,” she noted. “External. Adaptive. Poorly concealed.”
Harry croaked, “You can see it?”
“Not visually,” Grayfia replied. “Conceptually.”
She turned her attention back to Harry, studying him with the composed scrutiny of someone used to evaluating rulers, not children.
“You are the summoner,” she said. Not a question.
Harry nodded. “Accidentally.”
Grayfia paused.
“…That explains several irregularities.”
The summoning circle shifted, its runes rearranging themselves with a soft chime.
[Emergency Contract Stabilization Initiated.] [Summon compatibility rating: Extremely High.] [Fail-safe condition triggered.]
Harry’s stomach dropped. “Fail-safe?”
[You met long-term support criteria.]
The light settled.
[Summoning Contract Revised.] Duration: Indefinite Termination Clause: Mutual consent or critical system collapse
Harry’s knees nearly gave out. “Indefinite?!”
Grayfia accepted the information without visible surprise.
“An extended assignment,” she said evenly. “Very well.”
She turned fully toward Harry and bowed—formal, precise, and respectful.
“Mr. Potter,” she said. “I will serve as your attendant, advisor, and stabilizing presence.”
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
“And I will prevent you from getting yourself killed through neglect or ignorance.”
[Passive Skill Active: Service Without Subservience.]
Harry let out a shaky laugh. “That sounds… reassuring?”
“It is,” Grayfia replied calmly. “Now.”
She glanced around the dormitory again.
“Your sleep schedule is inadequate. Your defensive posture is nonexistent. Your nutritional habits are unacceptable.”
She paused.
“And your socks do not match.”
Ron snorted from his bed.
Harry spun. “Ron—!”
Too late.
Ron sat bolt upright, staring at Grayfia with wide eyes.
“…Mate,” Ron said slowly, “why is there a terrifyingly calm woman in our room?”
Hermione’s voice echoed from the stairs. “Ron, what are you yelling abou—”
She froze in the doorway.
Grayfia turned, assessing them both instantly.
“Additional associates detected,” she said. “Allies?”
Harry nodded quickly. “Yes. Friends.”
Grayfia relaxed by the smallest margin.
“Understood. I will exercise discretion.”
[Passive Skill Activated: Authority Through Presence.]
Ron suddenly straightened.
Hermione adjusted her bag, eyes shining with a mixture of awe and alarm.
The System sighed audibly.
[Well.] [You have summoned a top-tier stabilizing entity into Hogwarts.] [This will have consequences.]
Harry rubbed his face. “System… tell me this won’t ruin everything.”
A pause.
Then honesty.
[It already has.] [But statistically? You are safer now.]
Grayfia folded her hands neatly in front of her.
“Mr. Potter,” she said calmly, “you are situated at the intersection of multiple escalating threats.”
She inclined her head slightly.
“I recommend we begin with breakfast.”
Harry exhaled, somewhere between panic and relief.
Yeah.
This year was officially beyond normal.