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Chapter Text

Prologue

When joining the Order of the Phoenix, May Castellan didn't take her life for granted. She knew that time was limited, that she only survived because of her brother. Death wasn't fair. It wouldn't wait until she was ready to go. It would strike without warning, taking loved ones or even herself from the land of the living. She wasn't sure when it would be her time, but she would make sure she dragged that Death Eater down with her. She would avenge Thomas.

  Of course, that was before she met Hermes and had Luke.

  It was a warm night on August 17th, 1986. She had just gone to an Order meeting. They had been discussing Voldemort's movements. Feeling as if she might never see muggle London again, May went to a muggle pub and had a drink. Mind you, it was a very small pub, but a pub nonetheless. She wanted to remember the taste of the liquor burning down her throat, and the smell of several different types of drinks wafting through the room.

  She had only been on her first drink, savouring the familiar room, when the bell on the door behind her tinkled, signifying that someone else had come in. May wondered who it was. It was very late- a little past eleven, and this pub wasn't very well known.

  "I'll have Cider, please." A young man in his mid-twenties slid on the seat next to her, and she couldn't help but think that he was very handsome. He had a muscular build, along with unruly light brown hair and a sly grin.

  "Hello," May greeted him.

  "Hi," he replied casually. "It's a bit late to be drinking, don't you think?"

  "I was about to say the same thing," she answered.

  He chuckled. "You got me there," he admitted, taking a sip from his glass the bartender passed to him. "So..." he began. "Why are you here so late?"

  "Guess I just felt like it," she replied shortly, taking another sip from her glass. It was true, in a sense. She had come to remember muggle London. She could've gone anywhere else, but she chose to go here. Why? Because she felt like it. "You?"

  He grinned, giving her the sudden desire to check her pockets. "Just passing by," he told her. "I like to jog around here."

  She raised an eyebrow. "This close to midnight?"

  He laughed. "I agree with you; it's quite late. But I do love the coolness of summer nights. Especially at this time of day."

  "Nothing like a good walk at night to clear your mind," May joked.

  He smiled. "Exactly. And I just realized, I haven't asked your name yet."

  "May," she replied. "May Castellan."

  "May," he repeated. "What a lovely name. You can call me Hermes."

  "Like the Greek God," she said.

  "Very much like the Greek God," he said, grinning widely. "It was a childhood nickname. I was the prankster of the group and would occasionally pickpocket their stuff and return them for fun."

  She nodded. "Seeing you smile, I get the urge to check to see if I haven't lost anything." She finished her drink and pulled out her phone from her pocket, checking the time. "Well, it's getting late and I should go. It was nice meeting you."

  Hermes stood up. "I would like to walk you out," he said formally, taking a wad of cash out and placing it on the table. 

  She blushed. "There's no need," she said, suddenly shy.

  He laughed her off. "Nonsense," he exclaimed. "I find that a gentleman should always walk a girl to the door, whether it's their best friend, acquaintance, co-worker or girlfriend. It's called being polite."

  She smiled. "If you insist."

  Hermes followed her out of the dingy pub, opening the door for her. He walked out after her.

  "Well," she started. "It was nice meeting you."

  He nodded. "You too. I dare say we'll be meeting each other again." 

  And raising two fingers for a two-fingered salute, he turned around and jogged down the street, leaving May to ponder what he meant.

  Only later would she understand, but at the time, she thought she had met a muggle. A very kind and carefree one at that, not knowing that the muggle society might cease to exist very soon. 

  She chuckled, and pulling out her wand, she spun on the spot and apparated. Little did she know, that she had just met Hermes, God of Messengers, Travelers, and Thieves. Or that in two years, she would give birth to one Luke Castellan and move to Westport, Connecticut for his safety, where she would meet Hermes once again and would give birth to Lucas Castellan three years later.

Chapter One: The Quest

Lucas Castellan dropped down from the top of the lava wall, freefalling for a few seconds, then rolling as he hit the grass to absorb most of the impact. Standing up, he absentmindedly raked his hand through his sweaty blond hair, taking the time to recover from nearly being burnt alive.

  He scowled. After being on the run for a whole year, fighting monsters and such, climbing the lava wall should be easy. The desire not to die should've been enough. But noooo. After five near-death experiences, he was just about ready to give up.

  He walked back towards the lava wall, about to try it again. Surely he could do it at least once. As he took a step forward, an agonizing pain flared in his left foot.

  He muttered a few choice words in Ancient Greek as he sat down to inspect the injury.

  He pulled off his shoe and sock, to find nothing but a bruise. "What the Hades?" he demanded, as he shoved his sock and shoe back on. "Oh, I just slipped and I get a sprain? What is this?"

  "Do you need help?" a female voice asked.

  Lucas glanced up in surprise. In front of him was a woman with green eyes and black hair that flowed down to her shoulders. Her face resembled a Greek statue- pale, beautiful, and ageless. She was dressed in white robes decorated with ornate silver designs; runes or alchemy symbols, Lucas supposed.

  He knelt. "Lady Hecate," he said. 

  She motioned for him to rise. "Oh, you don't need to do that," she said, evidently pleased. "But I have to say, it is nice to be recognized. Olympians get all the attention. Nobody really recognizes us anymore."

  "But as the Goddess of the Mist, you're quite important," he countered.

  She smiled. "Thank you. Now, I'm going to assume, that you already know that I'm here on business and not out of the kindness of my heart."

  "Of course," he agreed. "Though, it could be both?"

  "Of course," she replied. "Now, I think the forest will do nicely for a private conversation, away from prying eyes and ears. Brace yourself." She spread her palms and the Mist surrounding her reached out towards him. For a few seconds, he couldn't see anything but white, and he felt like he was being ripped apart and put back together at the same time. Then the white darkened slowly and he saw the familiar backdrop of the trees in the forest.

  Lucas leaned on a nearby tree, out of breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hecate appear.

  "Sorry about that," she apologized, sounding sincere. "We could've walked, I suppose, but I just thought this was quicker. I didn't realize it would be painful for you."

  "It's fine," Lucas replied. "Didn't you say you were here for business?"

  "Oh! Right!" she exclaimed. From the inside of her dazzling white robes, she took out a letter about the size of a typical paperback book. The paper was slightly yellowed, and on it was his name written in Ancient Greek.

  "Where to start?" she pondered. "Well, as you must know, I am also the Goddess of Magic."

  Lucas nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

  "It started a few millennia ago, back when mortals believed we Gods existed and would worship us. I had a bit of a problem, and these 4 mortals helped me. They were Godric Gryffindor, the brave, Salazar Slytherin, the cunning, Rowena Ravenclaw, the intelligent and Helga Hufflepuff, the loyal. After they had helped me, I was ever so grateful. I gifted them with the ability to perform magic. But, there was a catch. They could only perform magic through a wand."

  "So they were witches and wizards," Lucas concluded.

  Hecate beamed. "Exactly! And they were best friends, for they found that teamwork was better than rivalries, and they shared gifts that no other mortal had- magic. They soon discovered that their magic was limited, but that didn't damper their spirits. They sought help from my daughter Circe, and she taught them wandlore, and they made the first four wands in history. But they sought to share their gifts with the other mortals, and so they built a school, where every generation of witches and wizards could learn the art of magic. They opened it up and sought to teach mortals from the age of eleven to seventeen, but they soon found out that the mortals, without magic flowing through their veins, could not perform magic, but Ravenclaw found a solution to their problem. She suggested having affairs with the mortals so that they could pass on their abilities. The others agreed, but Slytherin refused. He believed that they would be tainting their abilities by 'breeding with the mortals', as he called it." Hecate's voice was filled with disdain. "They got into an argument, which turned into an argument about who should be admitted. The school split, having four houses each named after the founders, and the next day Slytherin packed his bags and left, never to be seen again."

  "Real cheery," he said sarcastically. "So is the letter like an enrollment letter?"

  "Yes," she replied. "Your mother May Castellan was a muggle-born witch, which is their name for someone who can perform magic but comes from a non-magical family." She sighed and shook her head. "Ridiculous. The ability to produce magic is a gene. Sometimes it skips generations." She handed him the letter. "Read it," she urged. "Don't worry, I translated it into Ancient Greek for your sake."

  He gingerly took the letter and opened it, trying to read the cursive writing, which despite it being in Ancient Greek, was murder on his eyes. It went something like this:

Mr. L. Castellan
Cabin #11
Camp Half-Blood 3.141
Farm Road
New York

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Castellan,
        We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 
        Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

Uniform

         1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
         2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
        3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
        4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
        The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) By Miranda Goshawk
        A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
        Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
        A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
        One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
        Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
        Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
        The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment
        1 wand
        1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
        1 set of glass or crystal phials
        1 telescope
        1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

  "It's not unlike the stories that the mortals make up," he commented after he had finished reading.

  "Well, they had to come from somewhere," Hecate replied. "You must know by now that all stories have true parts." 

  "Of course," Lucas replied. "Though, I suppose this is like the myths."

  "Indeed."

  "Lady Hecate?" he asked. "Not to be rude or anything, but I don't think you would've come to Camp Half-Blood to personally deliver this."

  Hecate sighed. "You're right," she admitted. "There's a catch."

  "So what is it?" He tried to keep his voice polite.

  "Well, as I told you, there were four houses, Slytherin among them."

  Lucas nodded.

  "Well, there was one wizard, Tom Riddle. He was a brilliant and handsome boy. He could've done anything he wanted, but he threw everything away and dabbled in the Dark Arts, just because he was afraid of death." She sniffed. "Ridiculous. Death is death. You can't change that. Eventually, everyone dies, even Gods. We just don't go to the Underworld. Anyway, after he graduated from Hogwarts, he dabbled in the Dark Arts and created a new name for himself. I'll say it once, don't ask me to repeat it. Lord Voldemort. And whatever you do, don't say it. Names have power. 

  Well, he succeeded in making himself immortal, causing a lot of problems for Hades. Another wizard, Harry Potter, who would be your age by now, survived the Killing Curse, which is used to kill people quickly and painlessly. Riddle's body was destroyed, but his soul is still out there, and he will want to kill Harry." Hecate paused. "And that's where you will come in," she explained. "If you agree, of course."

  He raised an eyebrow. "You're letting me choose?" he asked skeptically.

  "Yes," she replied. "I'm also the Goddess of Crossroads. Should you accept, I would give you the ability to use the Mist better, since they can see through the Mist to a certain extent. I would also have to give you another name and identity to make your job easier."

  "And what is the name?"

  "Draco Malfoy. The Malfoys are an extremely wealthy family, and Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, which is the name for Riddle's followers. That way you'll be one of the first to know when Riddle comes back to a corporeal form. I'll make Dumbledore believe that he sent the letter to your cover, not you, and the Malfoys will believe you're their son. However, this path would be dangerous and possibly fatal.

  If you chose to go to Hogwarts but not accept the quest," she continued, "you would experience a somewhat normal life. You could become friends with Harry, do anything. However, you would be at risk of being murdered, since Voldemort and his followers think Muggles are beneath them. 

  Of course, you could always refuse the quest and refuse to go to Hogwarts. You would stay here in Camp Half-Blood, train, be safe- as safe as a demigod can be. And you could always go back." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Go back, maybe back to May Castellan, and pretend that nothing ever happened. You never ran away, never found you're a demigod, forget that you're a wizard. However you choose, I won't complain. This is your crossroads."

  Lucas bit his lip. He knew that most Gods wouldn't give him the option to refuse. Besides, he wanted to prove that he could. Prove that he was well trained enough to complete a quest. He could die, but was his life really more important than the safety of the world? His life was going to be short anyway. Why not make something of it? 

  "Sure," he said. "I'll accept the quest."

  "Good," she said. "Now, here's a little warning. Luke knows nothing of the Wizarding World, and you are not to tell him. Or anyone for that matter. Not even Chiron knows. Only the Gods and I know, and it must stay that way, at least until Riddle is defeated, lest both worlds are destroyed. I'll tell Chiron that I have you on a long-term quest, but you will be able to come back each summer. I'll organize everything in the Wizarding World, then I'll take you to Diagon Ally to get your stuff."

  "Okay," Lucas said, a bit confused. "Got it. Don't tell anyone, you'll take care of the lies, Diagon Ally. Received and entirely understood."

  She smiled. "Exactly. I shall see you soon." The Mist thickened around Hecate, and in a flash of white, she disappeared, leaving Lucas to his thoughts.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Diagon Ally

Lucas hacked at the metal dummy, dodging every time it swung its sword. For some reason, the Hephaestus Cabin decided it was a magnificent idea to create an automaton dummy that would attack back. Such fun. (Note the sarcasm.)

  He rolled to the side as the double-edged sword swung down behind him and stabbed the dummy on the head, deactivating it.

  "I get that the purpose was to get used to a moving target," he muttered, "but why does it have to be an automaton?"

  Sheathing his knife, he turned and walked out of the arena, when he saw someone running towards him.

  "Lucas!"

  It was Annabeth. Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. She was a year younger than him and he loved her as a little sister.

  "Hey," he greeted her, smiling. "What's up?"

  "Chiron wants to see you in the Big House," she explained. "I think Lady Hecate was there too. Something about a quest?"

  Lucas smiled. "Alright. I'll be heading over there now." He paused. "Er, try not to die before I come back."

  Annabeth snorted. "Of course. I'm not an idiot. That's Cabin five. Try not to die either. What would I do without my surrogate brother?"

  He laughed, raising his hand in a mock salute, and ran towards the Big House, passing by the Strawberry Fields as he passed.

  When he got there, Chiron and Hecate were on the porch, discussing something. For whatever reason, the legs on Chiron's wheelchair were wearing fishnet stockings and bright red high heels.

  He jogged up to them. "Lady Hecate," he addressed her. "Chiron."

  Chiron smiled. "Lucas. We're all set then, Lady Hecate?"

  "Yes," she replied with a smile. She was wearing a dark, sleeveless gown that seemed to ripple as if the cloth had ink spilling off.

  "Um, Chiron?" Lucas asked. "Why are the fake feet, er, like that?"

  Chiron sighed. "Probably your cabin's idea of a practical joke. I assume you weren't in on it?"

  "We need to go," Hecate interjected, saving Lucas from answering. "We'll be getting there via the Mist," she informed him. "I'm afraid it's in London. using the Mist will be the quickest way." Not unlike a few days ago, she spread her hands and he saw the world fade to white.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas watched as Hecate pushed the doors of the Leaky Cauldron open, and he followed her inside. Sometime during the teleportation, she had changed into jeans and a white t-shirt that was adorned with ornate silver designs- probably an alternate version of the robes she wore the other day.

  "Hello," she greeted the barman. "Tom, was it?"

  "Yes," he replied. "Would you like a drink?" he asked reaching for a glass.

  "No, thank you," she said politely. "Just passing through."

  The barman nodded, seeming to understand her. "Off to buy school supplies?" he questioned.

  She smiled. "Precisely."

  Hecate led Lucas through the bar and into a small, walled-off courtyard with a few dustbins and weeds.

  "Where are we going?" he asked.

  "Diagon Ally," she replied. "You seem to have forgotten that this is a world of magic."

  "Of course, magic," he mumbled to himself. "How could I forget?"

  Hecate smiled as she tapped the wall thrice with her finger. "I think you'll like this part," she informed him.

  Lucas watched as the brick she tapped quivered and in the middle, a small hole appeared which got bigger and bigger until it was big enough for them to walk through. 

  His eyes widened. "Clever," he commented. 

  "It is," Hecate agreed. "I do hope you succeed. The Wizarding World has such potential."

  They walked through the archway, and he heard the sound of the wall reverting to normal. They followed the winding cobblestone path and saw many shops, all containing magic. There was a stack of cauldrons in front of a shop, with a sign on top of them saying, Cauldrons- All Sizes- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-Stirring- Collapsible. There were shops selling robes, telescopes, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eel eyes, tall piles of spellbooks, quills and rolls of parchment and potion bottles.

  Finally, they stopped in front of a ginormous snowy-white building that towered over all the other shops. It wasn't Olympus big, but still impressive in its own right. Carved on one of the columns was a Latin inscription. Fortius Quo Fidelius. Strength through loyalty. Standing beside its large gleaming bronze doors, was a short creature about a head and a half shorter than him.

  "That's a goblin," Hecate told him quietly. "They, like all creatures in this world, know of the Gods' existence and like monsters, can detect demigods. However, unlike monsters, they sense your aura and can determine who is your godly parent. Goblins especially. This was built back when the Wizarding World began. They know a demigod when they see one."

  The goblin bowed as they entered. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, but this one was silver, with words engraved on them:

Enter stranger but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

  "Nearly impossible to rob," Hecate said. "Even you, a child of Hermes would have difficulty with it."

  A pair of goblins bowed to them as they entered, and Lucas saw that they were in a vast marble hall. His math wasn't great, but he counted about a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in long ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales and examining precious gems through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count that were leading off into the hall, and more goblins were leading people around.

  "Is this place run by goblins?" Lucas questioned as they headed for the counter.

  "Yes," she replied. "Goblins are known for their skill in money and finances, hence why they run Gringotts and even the Wizarding Economy to a certain extent. Morning," she said the last word to a free goblin. "We've come to take some money out of Vault eleven."

  The goblin eyed them before nodding. "Alright," he said. He led them out one of many doors leading out of the marble hall, though it was clear what separated this door from the others. It was much larger, nearly twice the size. It had a marble arch like the others, but the double doors were made of Celestial bronze and on the edge, it had Ancient Greek letters written in gold.

  There was an immediate difference on the inside. It was a large cavern, with two trees that grew at the front, with branches growing to the side to create an archway for them to walk through. Vines dangled down from the branches, creating a curtain, obscuring their view from the rest of the cavern.

  As they brushed past the vines and walked through the archway, it became obvious that there was an overgrown theme going on. At their feet, there was a lush green carpet of grass, and a pure black pegasus was snacking on the grass. There was a small pond over to the left side, and white mist- no the Mist, lingered around, giving the feel of a foggy day. Owls swooped overhead as they moved from the surrounding trees. On the right side, there was a reasonable size ledge that had a medium-sized willow tree. Underneath it, there was a male peacock, flashing its brightly coloured plumage. On the side, there were giant marble pillars laced with gold bracing the cavern ceiling, though Lucas didn't see why it would need them. There were silver tracks that shone like the moon winding ahead of them, with adamantine carts zooming on them, carrying nobody at all.

  "It's beautiful," Lucas commented.

  Hecate smiled. "Yes, it is, don't you think? We built this during the construction of Gringotts. Athena designed the layout, Hades cleared this space out, Hephaestus designed the mechanics, Demeter perfected the overgrown look, Pan gave the cavern life, Poseidon created that lovely little pond over there, and well, everyone contributed."

  "So it only looks like this here?" he asked.

  "Well," Hecate said, "These tracks lead down to the Greek Gods' and Goddess' vaults. Only them and their children can open them."

  The goblin whistled shrilly as they got to the start of the tracks. A small cart came over to them, and it was only then Lucas realized how bright it was. It shone brightly, so bright in fact, that it looked transparent white and looked like a cross between diamonds and silver.

  They clambered onto the cart, and with a gesture from the goblin, the cart shot down the tracks, sucking the air out of Lucas' lungs. He almost blacked out from the lack of air, but when he recovered, he found that they were still shooting down the track, winding up and down, left to right. 

  Before long, they stopped at a door with a caduceus drawn on the top in Celestial Bronze. Below it was a rather intricate lock with a pair of winged sandals in the middle.

  "A few Roman gods have lingered around, long after the Roman Empire fell," Hecate explained. "See the caduceus? If a symbol of a god was drawn in Celestial Bronze, it means that the god is Greek. If it was drawn in Imperial Gold, or Enchanted Gold as it was called in the Ancient times, it belonged to a Roman God."

  "How do we get in?" he asked. 

  "Place your hand on the lock," the goblin instructed. "and unlock it. Demigod children of Hermes have Clauditiskinesis, do you not?"

  Following the goblin's instructions, he placed his hand on the lock. While it looked complicated on the outside, it was simple. There were rings at different angles, not unlike an Archimedes sphere. All he had to do was align the rings together. It unlocked with a click as he aligned the rings together, and the door swung open silently.

  As he entered, with Hecate trailing after him, his jaw dropped. 

  There were mountains of little gold coins, heaps of silver ones and mounds of bronze ones- wizarding currency, he assumed. There were hills of golden and silver drachmas and a stack of weapons in one corner. There were a few bottles of Greek Fire, nectar and ambrosia.

  Closing his mouth, Lucas turned to Hecate. "Why isn't the goblin with us?" he asked.

  "I placed wards not allowing certain people in," she answered. "These vaults only allow people with ichor flowing inside them, even if it's just a little bit."

  "Okay," he said. "Which ones do I get?"

  "The gold, silver and bronze ones," she said. "The gold ones are the Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, and then there's the Knuts. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Best take a silver weapon, just in case Riddle comes back and you meet the Werewolf Society." She handed him a bag with a silver drawstring.

  "Yep," Lucas agreed walking over to fill the bag that Hecate gave him. He scooped the coins into the bag, and when it was full, he pulled the drawstring shut and grabbed a silver pocket-knife, slipping it into his pocket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One horrendous cart-ride later, Lucas followed Hecate out of Gringotts, blinking at the harsh light of the sun's rays.

  "I'll be leaving," she told him. "Use your letter. Madam Malkin's for robes, Flourish and Blotts for books, an apothecary for potion ingredients- just ask for some basic potion ingredients. Then there's that cauldron shop for your cauldron and scales, Eeylops Owl Emporium if you want an owl, or there's Magical Menagerie if you want something else. And, of course, there's Ollivander's for your wand." She smiled. "Never met anyone better than him at making wands."

  "Okay," he replied. "Got it. Anything else I need to know?"

  "Yes," she said. "If you see Harry Potter, you are to introduce yourself as Draco Malfoy, and you have to have a British accent when doing this. Now, your cover is a boy who was raised in a pure-blood household but doesn't believe in pure-blood supremacy. You'll be protecting him from his side, and if he decides he hates you, you will go out of your way to follow him and make sure he doesn't die. 

  Lastly, to get to Hogwarts, you'll be taking the Hogwarts Express. Just go to Kings Cross Station and run into the barrier between platforms nine and ten. The train leaves at 11 o'clock, on September the first."

  "Got it," he replied, nodding. "I'll go get my stuff now."

  Hecate made a shooing gesture with her hand and he walked towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. When he looked back at the entrance of the store, Hecate was already gone.

  Lucas looked back at the door of the shop. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door, feeling like a bundle of nerves.

  "Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin asked when she saw him.

  He nodded, wondering how long this would take. He hoped it wouldn't be long, especially since he had a severe case of ADHD. He had no idea why, but his ADHD was much worse than the average demigod. 

  "Most people come here," she continued. "I'll have someone fit you up." She looked over at another witch and motioning her over, she told her to fit him up.

  "Follow me," the witch said. 

  Lucas followed her into the back of the shop, where the witch stood him on one of the stools gathered there, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.

  After a while, he heard the door swing open, and he glanced over. Standing at the door was a scrawny boy with messy black hair and cracked round glasses in front of a pair of emerald green eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lightning bolt scar.

  Lucas's first thought was that he reminded him of Poseidon. Of course, Poseidon didn't have glasses, and he had sea-green eyes, not emerald green. Oh, and there was also the fact that Poseidon was fit, not scrawny.

  He snapped out of his thoughts. Hecate told him to be nice to him, not get lost in his thoughts until he left.

  "Hello," he greeted him. "Hogwarts too?" He decided to be oblivious to who he was to not make him uncomfortable.

  Harry ducked his head and mumbled a small "Yes." Madam Malkin stood him on the stool beside him and began fitting him up.

  "So, what's your name?" he asked casually, making sure that his voice maintained a friendly tone.

  "Harry Potter," he replied. It wasn't boastful, but more of a friendly exchange. And he wanted to keep it that way.

  He made a polite face of surprise. "You are?" he asked, not in a skeptical way, but an I didn't realize. "I'm Lu-Draco Malfoy, by the way." He scolded himself internally for nearly slipping. "I heard you went to live with muggles. What are they like?"

  "Terrible," he replied. "I mean, not all muggles are like that, I just happened to have them as my only living relatives."

  Lucas bit his lip in sympathy. "Mmm," he said. "The good people always die first. I'd have a better life if my parents were dead," he continued, sending a mental apology to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "But no. I have that absolute git as my father." He wasn't lying. Hecate had told him what Lucius and Narcissa were like, and the way they acted rubbed him the wrong way.

  Harry perked up. "You live in a magical environment?"

  "Yes," he replied, struggling to maintain a British accent. He got the basics, and the less the Mist had to do, the better. 

  "Could you explain Hogwarts?" he asked.

  "Well," he began in an exaggerated pompous manner. "Hogwarts is a school that teaches magic from the age of eleven to seventeen. It contains-"

  "No," Harry interrupted, struggling to keep a straight face. "I meant like what classes it has."

  "There's Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts," he listed. "These are mandatory classes. Once you pass your third year, you'll have to choose at least two more advanced classes like Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, or Muggle Studies. There are more, but I just can't be bothered to remember them. During our fifth year, our head of house will have a discussion on what job we want after graduation, and what subjects are advised to be able to pursue that career. In our sixth year, we can apply for apparition lessons for a fee of twelve Galleons."

  Harry paused, and Lucas could see him pondering over the information he just dumped on him. After a while, he spoke up. "What do you mean by houses?"

  "There are four houses," Lucas explained. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. At the start of our first year, we'll get sorted into them."

  "But how?" he asked.

  He smirked. "That's for me to know and you to stress on."

  He opened his mouth to talk back, but Madam Malkin walked over. "That's you done, my dear," she said.

  Harry hopped off the stool and paying for the robes, he left the shop and Lucas watched him walk over to a large man that reminded him strongly of a giant.

  He waited for a bit before they were done with his robes, then, after paying seven Galleons for his robes, exited the store and into the street.

  He walked down the street and stopped to buy some parchment and quills, and he nearly laughed when he found a type of ink that would change colour.

  "I'll get the books next," he told himself. 

  He walked into Flourish and Blotts. The store was like a typical book store. It had shelves that were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather, books filled with different languages, silk books the size of postage stamps and books with nothing in them at all. He had to remind himself that he still had other supplies to buy. He always liked reading, especially since his dyslexia was minor.

  He went to buy a pewter cauldron next, plus a nice set of scales and a collapsible telescope, then he went to the Apothecary, which was interesting enough to make up for its bad smell, which smelled like a combination of rotten eggs, mouldy cabbages and, for some odd reason, his mother's burnt cookies.

  There were barrels of slimy stuff placed on the floor, while jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls. Bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung on the ceiling. While the man at the counter groped around for the basic potion ingredients he asked for, Lucas examined silver unicorn horns that were twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

  Outside of the Apothecary, Lucas checked his letter again. "Only the wand left," he told himself. "I could also get a pet. I don't need an owl, I got Iris Messages for communication." After pondering for a while, he decided that a cat was the best choice.

  Twenty minutes later, he left Magical Menagerie, which was a very crowded shop that had cages of all sizes. Some stored owls, ravens, cats, rats, a rabbit that kept transforming into a black top hat, and multiple different species of magical creatures that he couldn't identify. Now he was holding a small and beautiful female Siamese Cat, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

  "Only the wand left," he said to himself. It was what he was the most excited for.

  Ollivander's was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. In the dusty window, there was a single wand resting on a faded purple pillow.

  A tinkling bell rang out somewhere in the shop as he opened the door and stepped inside. It was a small place, empty asides from a spindly chair, which he gently set his cat on it. Lucas felt as if he had just entered a rigorous library, and glancing around; he saw the thousands of narrow boxes that were piled very neatly up to the ceiling.

  "Good morning," said a voice behind him. Lucas flinched and he whirled around, reaching for his knife when he realized who had spoken.

  An old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

  "Hello," Lucas said, relaxing and trying to control his racing heartbeat.

  "Hello," he responded. "Name?"

  "Lucas, Sir," he replied. "Lucas Castellan."

  "Ah, yes," he said. "Yes, yes. A Castellan. You took your mother's maiden name?"

  "I didn't know my father," he lied, "and my mother doesn't talk about him."

  He straightened. "Yes. Yes, yes, of course. It seems like only yesterday when your mother was in here, buying her wand. Ten and a half inches long, pliable, made of Silver Lime. Excellent for Divination."

Ollivander had come so near that he and Lucas were almost nose to nose.

  "Well, Mr. Castellan," he stated, "We should be starting. Let's see." He pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which one's your wand arm?"

  Lucas bit his lip in confusion. "Right arm," he answered, assuming that he meant what arm he used the most.

"Hold out your arm," he instructed him. "That's it." He measured Lucas from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round his head. As he measured, he gave Lucas a rundown of his business. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a magical substance, Mr. Castellan. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tailfeathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

  Lucas suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves taking down boxes. 

  "That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled to a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Castellan. Try this one. Dogwood and dragon heartstring. Ten 1/2 inches. Quite whippy. Just take it and give it a wave."

  Lucas took the wand, and (feeling self-conscious) waved it like how he would use a sword, but the window panes of the shop shattered, and Ollivander snatched it out of his hand.

  "Sorry," he apologized, breathing heavily.

  "No matter," he replied. "Here- try this one. Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Reasonably springy. Try it."

  He tried but barely raised it when Ollivander snatched it out of his hands.

  "No, no," he muttered. "Here, red oak and phoenix feather, twelve 3/4 inches, brittle. Go on, go on, try it out."

  He tried. And tried. He had no idea what Ollivander was waiting for, but after several wands later, Lucas didn't really care about the wands anymore- he was tired, he was hungry and he was tired of flinching every time the wands caused an accident, but the more wands he tried out, the happier Ollivander seemed to become.

  "Tricky customer, eh?" he said. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find the perfect match for you. I think, hmm, yes. Why not this one? English Oak and unicorn hair, eleven 1/3 inches, nice and flexible."

  Lucas took the wand. A warm feeling shot through his body as a stream of green and gold erupted from the wand and the shop repaired itself.

  Ollivander smiled. "Excellent. That will be seven Galleons." He put the wand back into the box and wrapped it in brown paper.

  Lucas paid before exiting the shop.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Lucas made his way down Diagon Ally and back into the Leaky Cauldron, where he booked a room with the barman, Tom. Technically he was supposed to be acting as Draco Maloy now that he had gotten his supplies, but he wasn't exactly eager to meet Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. He didn't know if he would be able to refrain from insulting them. But, he supposed, wasn't he doing that right now?

  In his room, he sat on the bed and pulled out Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. If he was going to be attacked, he could at least be prepared. His cat, who he had decided to call Willow, jumped onto the bed and curled up beside him.

  He smiled faintly as he absentmindedly stroked Willow, immersed in the book. He could faintly hear the customers downstairs ordering beverages and dishes, and he let himself get lost in the book, enjoying the peace before he had to start his quest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Platform 9 3/4

 Lucas's last few months were, uneventful to put it lightly. A better word would be torture. Absolute torture. With nothing to do, he had finished all of his textbooks in the first week and would've given anything to have a monster attack him. At least it would have kept him occupied. The only thing he had to do other than reading was to create a story for Draco Malfoy and get his appearance straight. 

  He counted down the days until September the first, but by that day, he was really starting to regret his decision. He would manipulate the Mist to make Harry believe that he saw him like this in Madam Malkin's, but seriously, what was he thinking?

  He had chosen for his hair to be slicked back with approximately five whole barrels of hair gel (just joking). Everything else he could handle, but why did he choose for his hair to be slicked back like that? Just why? Oh, right! Because he thought it'd be fun!

  "I'll be lucky if I'm not laughed at," Lucas muttered to himself as he dumped his trunk onto a trolley and pushed it towards platforms nine and ten. He was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater over his faded Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. He had already used the Mist to change his appearance, hence the muttering.

  "Right," he said as he got to the platforms. "Just walk through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Not the weirdest thing that's ever happened. If Thalia's spirit can create a border around camp to prevent mortals and monsters walking in, why can't a wall be some sort of gateway?"

  Lucas gripped the handle tightly, heart pounding. He walked towards it, people jostling him as he went. People. Seems that wherever he went, people were always in a hurry. He kept walking, having complete faith in Hecate. This was magic, for Zeus's sake. It wouldn't let something like logic stop it. 

  All of a sudden, he was no longer in Kings Cross station. 

  A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform filled with people. A sign above him said Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock. Lucas glanced behind him, and where the barrier was, had been replaced by a wrought-iron archway, with the words Platform 9 3/4 written on it. He had done it. He had found platform 9 3/4.

  Smoke from the engine drifted lazily above the heads of the chatty crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there, between their legs. Owls hooted to each other disgruntled, over the babble and scraping of the trunks.

  The first few carriages were already full of students, some looking out of the windows to talk with their families, some fighting and bickering over seats. Lucas pushed his trolley down the platform, trying to find an empty compartment. Preferably away from the purebloods. The Weasleys were fine, based on what Hecate told him, but the others? Not so much. 

  Lucas pressed through the crowd when he found an almost empty compartment in the middle of the train. Only one boy was sitting in it. He looked about two years older than him and he had dreadlocks.

  "Can I sit here?" Lucas asked him, having pushed his trunk onto the train, with Willow sitting on it. 

  He looked at him. "Sure," he responded casually. "Need a hand?"

  "It's fine," Lucas said. "I can handle it." He dumped Willow onto the seat, then picked up the trunk by one side and dragged it to the corner of the compartment.

  "I forgot to introduce myself," the boy said. "My name's Lee Jordan. You?"

  "Draco Malfoy," Lucas replied. 

  Lee raised an eyebrow. "A Malfoy? I would never have guessed."

  "Was that sarcasm?" Lucas asked, feigning mock hurt.

  He had achieved what he wanted. "No, no!" Lee exclaimed. "I was being serious. I mean, you look the part, but the way you hold yourself, the way you talk casually. I guess I just think of Malfoys as composed, serious, prejudiced people."

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "That's my father," he told Lee. "And my mother," Lucas added after a pause. "Let me guess, also because I'm wearing muggle clothes?"

  He nodded. Just then, a whistle sounded. "That'll be the signal for the train to leave," Lee informed him.

  He huffed. "I know," he replied. "Just because I'm a first-year doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

  The train took off and he could see the sets of houses out of the windows, and he felt the reality of the situation sink in. He was going to Hogwarts, a magic school. He was on a quest, which was what he had wanted ever since he got to camp. 

  The compartment door slid open and two red-headed twins came in. They looked almost completely identical, and they were about the same age as Lee. They both had freckles and had a short, stocky build.

  "Lee," they both greeted him in unison. 

  Instantly Lucas had the impression of the Stolls, who were his half-brothers. They weren't twins, but they were prankers and would take pranking to the next level. Travis was the older one- he was the same age as Annabeth, while Conner was a year younger than Travis. He spent a lot of time around them, and he got the feeling he'd get along with these two great- if they accepted him, that is.

  They looked at him. "Is this-" the one on the right said.

  "a Malfoy?" the other one finished. Lucas guessed that the one on the right was the older one.

  "Draco Malfoy," he said, bored. Gods of Olympus, he hated that name. Who names their child dragon? 

  "He's nice for a Malfoy," Lee commented offhandedly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he landed himself in Hufflepuff."

  "Well," the older one said. "I'm George-"

  "And I'm Fred Weasley," the other one said.

  Lucas smiled. "Nice to meet you, Fred," he nodded at the one who called himself George, "and George."

  Lee stared at him as if he grew another head.

  "What?" he asked, confused.

  "Um, you just told them apart," he informed him. "I've never seen anybody do that on their first day meeting them."

  "I have two friends who act exactly like them," he said smoothly. The Stolls were his half-brothers, but they could also be classified as his friends. That was the first rule of lying. Always include a sliver of truth.

  "Well," George said, as he sat down beside him, with Fred on the other side. "Looks like this is a beginning of an excellent friendship."

  "Just a quick question before we start planning the wondrous pranks," Fred said. "Why aren't you sitting with the other purebloods?"

  He sighed dramatically. "They're too boring and stuck up for me," he said in a fake pompous manner. "I'd rather shorten the time I have to spend around them. I'll suffer later."

  At that, the twins and Lee burst into laughter, and Lucas joined in chuckling. At least someone at Hogwarts appreciated his humour.

  "Merlin's beard," Lee said, struggling to stop laughing, while Fred and George kept on laughing. "I haven't laughed that hard in ages."

  Lucas grinned. "I'm special!" he declared, which sent them all back in hysterical fits of giggles. "So," he said after they had all calmed down, "What did you mean when you mentioned pranks?"

  Fred's eyes lit up. "Oh just you wait!" he exclaimed. "We're going to have so much fun pranking Slytherins-"

  "Giving Filch trouble-" George added.

  "And generally causing as much trouble as we possibly can," Fred finished proudly.

  "How many detentions do you get in a week?" Lucas asked, already knowing the answer.

  "Can't you have a little faith in us?" George practically whined, coaching a smile from Lee.

  "About five times," he interjected.

  Lucas shook his head. "Amateurs," he said. "Do you even try to stay out of detention?"

  "Hey!" Fred and George yelled, outraged. "We are very sneaky!"

  Lucas snorted. "You're talking to the person who can pickpocket items out of people's pockets without anyone noticing." He placed a double-ended, colour-coded chew on the table. "What even is this, anyway?" he asked, ignoring their looks of surprise.

  "It's a Puking Pastille," Lee replied. "They want to start a joke shop, so they've been inventing stuff, but they haven't gotten a name yet."

  "How 'bout 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes'?" Lucas asked innocently. "Named after you two? And who's Filch?"

  "That's a fantastic name!" George exclaimed. "And to answer your second question, Filch is the caretaker."

  While they were talking, the Hogwarts Express had taken them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields of cows and sheep. Their conversation had taken a more serious turn. There was a piece of parchment, with the words 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' on it and a quick sketch of a logo that Lucas drew on the table. The Weasleys were writing ideas of items they could make, with suggestions from Lucas and Lee.

  Around half-past twelve, there was a loud clattering coming from the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and asked, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

  Lucas, Fred and George stayed put, but Lee jumped up, pushed past Fred and went out into the corridor. A minute later, he came back with his arms full with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

  "Lee does this every year," George explained. "Dunno why."

  "Every year?" Lucas asked. "Why?"

  "Just feel like it," Lee said with a shrug as he dumped the packages on top of the parchment, then squeezing past Fred again.

  "That's not a valid reason," Lucas pointed out as Fred took a bite out of a Pumpkin Pasty.

  "Don't care," Lee said, he reached for a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

  Lucas unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and ate it, hiding his surprise at the moving treat. He picked up the card, and it showed a woman's face. She had pale skin, a purple cloak and she held a crystal ball between her hands. Underneath the picture was the name Cassandra Vablatsky.

  Lucas turned over the card and read:

  Cassandra Vablatsky was a celebrated seer and author of 'Unfogging the Future', a guide to all basic fortune-telling methods, including palmistry, crystal balls and bird entrails.

  Lucas almost dropped the card in shock, before composing himself. Seer. After what had happened with his mother, he had gained a natural fear of oracles and divination in general. Of course, he was much more afraid of cyclops, but that's not relevant.

  "Have you ever eaten a Chocolate Frog before?" Lee asked, noticing how he was looking at the card.

  "No," Lucas replied. "I normally don't eat sweets."

  Fred stared at him. "You're joking," he said.

  "Why would I?" he asked. "I never had a reason to eat any." That was true in a way. When at risk of being killed, he had learned to never gain too much weight, lest be killed by a monster.

  "It's just surprising, that's all," Lee interjected.

  "Right," Lucas replied. "What house are you all in, anyway?"

  "Gryffindor," they all answered simultaneously.

  "No surprise there," Lucas commented. "I 'spect I'll be in Slytherin."

  "Maybe not," Lee said. "They look at your traits to sort you in your house. You seem more like a Hufflepuff to me."

  "I don't want to receive a howler," Lucas said firmly, crossing his arms.

  The countryside flying past the window was now becoming wilder. The neat fields had been replaced by woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills.

  "We should change," Fred said with a look at the window. "It's getting late."

  The three of them took off their jackets (and in Lucas's case, his sweater), and they pulled on their long black robes.

  Just as they had finished, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

  Lucas took a deep breath, feeling clammy with nerves. He joined the crowd in the corridors, with Fred, George and Lee behind him.

  "The first years go to the school by boats," George informed him. "The rest go by carriages."

  "Ok," Lucas replied, keeping his voice steady, despite his nerves.

  The train lurched to a stop. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a small, dark platform. Lucas's breath steamed in front of him, but it wasn't that cold for him. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Lucas heard a gruff voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" He addressed Harry, who was behind him.

  The giant that Lucas saw two months ago in Diagon Ally beamed over the sea of heads.

  "C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

  Slipping and stumbling, Lucas parted ways with Lee and the Weasleys, he followed the rest of the first years and Hagrid down what he assumed to be a steep, narrow path. It was very dark on both sides of the path- so dark, in fact, that Lucas thought there must be trees there. Nobody spoke much. One boy sniffled a few times.

  "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant informed them over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

  There was a sudden "Oooooh!"

  The narrow path had opened up onto the edge of a great, black lake. Perched on a high mountaintop on the other side, its windows gleaming in the night sky, was a giant castle with many turrets and towers. It wasn't as great as Olympus, but Lucas hung out with Annabeth long enough to know this was pure art- by mortal standards.

  "No more'n four to a boat!" he called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting by the shore with his thick finger. Lucas headed to one of the boats, followed by two boys and a girl, who he assumed were the prejudiced pure-bloods Fred mentioned.

  "Everyone in?" the giant shouted, who had an entire boat to himself. "Right then- FORWARD!"

  The little fleet of boats took off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Nobody spoke, all occupied with staring at the vast castle towering over them, seemingly getting larger and larger as they neared the cliff it sat on.

  "Heads down!" the giant yelled as they reached the cliff; they all ducked their heads and the boats carried them past a curtain of ivy that hid a large entrance in the cliff face. They were brought down a long, dark tunnel, which seemed to be under the castle until they arrived at some sort of underground harbour, where they clambered out of the boats, and onto rocks and pebbles.

  "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" the giant asked, who was checking the boats as people clambered out of them.

  "Trevor!" the boy who sniffling earlier cried blissfully, holding out his hands. They clambered into a tunnel carved into the rock side after the giant, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of Hogwarts.

  They walked up a flight of stone steps and huddled around the huge, oak front door.

  "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

  He raised a ginormous hand and knocked thrice on the door.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Sorting Ceremony

The door immediately swung open. A tall, black-haired witch wearing emerald green robes was standing there. She had a stern expression, and Lucas's first impression was that this was not someone he would want to cross. 

  "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid informed her.

  "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

  She pulled the door open wide. The entrance hall was large enough to fit the Big House in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches- the symbol of Hecate. The ceiling was too high to make out, and a majestic marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

  They followed Professor McGonagall across the weakened stone floor. Lucas could hear hundreds of voices from a doorway to his right- he assumed that the rest of the school must have already arrived, but Professor McGonagall took the first years into a small, empty chamber outside of the hall. They crowded in, standing closer than they usually would've done, gazing about nervously.

  "Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

  "The four houses are each called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

  "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

  Lucas noted that her gaze travelled to the boy who kept losing his toad, and a lanky, red-headed boy- who he assumed was related to Fred and George. 

  "I will return when we are ready for you," she informed them. "Please wait quietly."

  "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Lucas heard Harry ask the red-headed boy.

  "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

  Lucas nearly laughed, but he didn't want anyone to think of him as insane. Of course, the twins would've done something like that. He didn't know exactly what the test was but based on what Lee had said, they would look at his traits. Hecate had mentioned that too. Everyone was quiet- except for a girl with bushy brown hair. She was whispering very quickly about all the spells she had learnt and which one she'd need. Despite Lucas having a good idea about what the test was, he still felt very anxious. He had never felt this nervous before, except maybe when he and Annabeth had to save Luke, Thalia and Grover from a cyclops. He kept his eyes glued to the door. Professor McGonagall would return any second now.

  Then something happened that made him flinch, and several people behind him screamed.

  "What the-?"

  He stared. So did many people behind him. About 20 ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and translucent, they glided through the room talking to each other, ignoring the first years. Lucas struggled to hide his shock. He had seen many strange things in his lifetime, but ghosts were something new to him. Of course, he knew there were ghosts, but he had never actually seen any.

  The ghosts seemed to be arguing.

  "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance," a fat little monk said.

  "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?"

  A ghost sporting ruffs and tights had just noticed the first years.

  Nobody said anything.

  "New students!" the Fat Friar exclaimed, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

  A few people nodded quietly.

  "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar said. "My old house, you know."

  "Move along now," a sharp voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

  It was Professor McGonagall. One by one, the ghosts drifted through the opposite wall.

  "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall ordered the first years, "and follow me."

  Feeling his legs suddenly turn stiff, Lucas got into line behind the girl with bushy brown hair and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, through a pair of double doors and into the Great Hall.

  Lucas had never seen a mortal place this strange or amazing. The Great Hall was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles which were suspended above four long tables, which were occupied by the rest of the students. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates, goblets and utensils. At the front of the hall was another long table, occupied by the staff. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there so they came to a halt in front of the other students, with the staff behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like hundreds of pale lanterns illuminated by the candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students was the occasional ghost, shining mistily silver. Lucas noticed Harry looking up and Hermione whispering about why the ceiling looked like a replica of the sky outside.

  It was difficult to believe that there was a ceiling at all and that the Great Hall didn't simply just extend to Olympus.

  Professor McGonagall set down a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed an extremely frayed and patched wizard's hat.

  Lucas stared at the hat, noticing how everyone seemed to be doing the same thing. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Lucas swore you could hear a pin drop. Then the hat twitched. A wide rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
So you can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a thinking cap!"

  The entire hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and became motionless again.

  Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a roll of parchment in her hand. 

  "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she told them. "Abbott, Hannah!"

  A pink-faced girl with blonde hair tied back in pigtails stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell over her eyes.

  "HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted after a moment's pause.

  The table on the right cheered as Hannah went down to sit with them, and Lucas saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving cheerfully at her.

  "Bones, Susan!"

  "HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat screamed once again, and Susan ran to join Hannah.

  "Boot, Terry!"

  "RAVENCLAW!"

  This time the table second from the left clapped and several Ravenclaws stood up to shake his hand.

  'Brocklehurst, Mandy' went to Ravenclaw too, but 'Brown, Lavender' became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left erupted in cheers. Lucas could see Fred and George catcalling.

  Then 'Bulstrode, Millicent' became a Slytherin. Lucas noted how they seemed very unpleasant.

  "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

  "HUFFLEPUFF!"

  Sometimes, Lucas realized, the Sorting Hat immediately shouted out the house, but other times, it took a long time to decide. 'Finnigan, Seamus', a sandy-haired boy who was standing beside Harry, had sat on the stool for nearly a minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

  "Granger, Hermione!"

  The bushy-haired girl next to Lucas in the line ran up to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly onto her head.

  "GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted. The red-headed boy beside Harry groaned.

  When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he tripped on the way to the stool. The hat took a very long time deciding with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" he took off with it still on his head and had to run back to give it to 'MacDougal, Morag'. 

  "Malfoy, Draco!"

  Lucas stepped forward and placed the hat on his head.

  "Hmm,"  a small voice said beside his ear. "Another Castellan and a demigod. Plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, no doubt. Cunning, resourceful and incredibly stubborn. Loyal, modest, kind and brave. Where to put you? I know! Best be SLYTHERIN!"

  The hat screamed its decision to the whole hall. Lucas took off the hat and walked towards the Slytherin table, where he sat down next to a ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood.

  There weren't many people left now. 

  'Moon'..., 'Nott'..., 'Parkinson'..., then two twin girls, 'Patil' and 'Patil'..., and then-

  "Potter, Harry!"

  Whispers erupted all around the hall as soon as Professor McGonagall called Harry's name.

  "Potter, did she say?"

  "The Harry Potter?"

  As people sat up taller to get a closer look at Harry, Lucas watched patiently as he walked up to the stool and put the hat on.

  Lucas personally wished Harry would be put in Slytherin. It would enable him to become closer to him and make his job much easier, but Lucas was pretty sure that he wouldn't be in Slytherin. He must've heard from someone else about Slytherin's dark reputation. Lucas wasn't too happy about being put in Slytherin, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices.

  When the Sorting Hat finally yelled "GRYFFINDOR!" to the entire hall, Lucas was sure he would go permanently deaf. It was blatantly obvious that Harry was getting the loudest cheer yet, and Harry either didn't care or was in too much shock to notice. Lucas saw another red-headed boy get up and shake his hand- possibly another one of Fred and George's siblings. Fred and George were yelling "We got Potter!" and the ghost in the ruffs he had seen earlier patted Harry's arm as he sat down opposite to the ghost. 

  There weren't many people left. In fact, there were only three left. 'Turpin, Lisa' became a Ravenclaw and the red-headed boy ('Weasley, Ron') became a Gryffindor. Turns out he was right about him being Fred and George's brother. How many did they have?

  Immersed in his thoughts, Lucas wasn't paying attention to anything going around until a tall, dark-skinned boy sat down next to him.

  Albus Dumbledore stood up. He was beaming at them, arms spread wide as if nothing could deter him from being this joyful. 

  "Welcome!" he declared. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

  "Thank you!"

  He sat back down. Everyone either clapped or cheered, and Lucas let out a snort.

  Then he glanced down at the table, and Lucas's eyes widened, which luckily went unnoticed by the other Slytherins who were too busy stuffing their face with food. The empty plates in front of him were now piled with food. There were roast beef, roast chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for whatever reason, mint humbugs.

  Lucas never starved himself, but he never ate more than necessary, either. There were the Camp Half-Blood plates and cups, which filled itself with whatever food or drink you wanted, but they never provided too much. He took a bit of the roast chicken, roast potatoes and the sausages.

  "You don't eat much," the ghost beside him noted. "Though, I suppose you don't want to, with monsters hunting you down."

  Lucas glanced at the ghost. He wasn't surprised, since Hecate had told him in advance that all magical creatures of the Wizarding World knew a demigod when they saw one.

  "Can you, er, keep it down?" Lucas asked politely.

  "Of course," the ghost replied in a much quieter voice. "It's very rare for a demigod to be a witch or a wizard, and they always keep it quiet. I don't think I've introduced myself. The Bloody Baron at your service. Resident ghost of Slytherin Dungeon."

  Lucas nodded, unsure what to say. He felt as if the littlest thing would set him off. He wanted to ask about the blood but couldn't bring himself to raise the subject. He decided to go on a safer route and continue eating.

  After everyone had eaten, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as ever. A few seconds later, dessert arrived. There were blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could imagine, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding... It went on and on.

  As Lucas helped himself to a chocolate éclair, the talk quickly turned to blood purity, and Lucas internally groaned.

  "Both my parents were Pure-Bloods," a girl (who Lucas would later identify as Daphne Greengrass) said. "Sacred Twenty-Eight."

  Pansy nodded. "Of course," she said. "Can't imagine if a Mudblood came in. It'd be a disgrace! If I turned out to be one, I think I'd kill myself in shame, wouldn't you?" She directed the question at Lucas.

  "Totally!" Lucas replied, faking an arrogant tone. He assumed that Mudblood meant muggle-born. "I mean, even being a half-blood would be a shame. Can't imagine how filthy the house would be," he joked half-heartedly.

  The brown-skinned boy sitting next to him chuckled. Evidently, none of them had realized how much this pained him. Lucas had half a mind to strangle them. Why did blood purity matter?

  After a while (which sadly, included Lucas nearly dying of boredom), the dessert finally vanished, and Dumbledore stood up, once again. Instantly the hall fell silent, which was lucky for Lucas because he was just about to strangle the Slytherins.

  "Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.

  "First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

  Dumbledore glanced at Fred and George.

  "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

  "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

  "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

  A few people laughed, but Lucas bit his lip, waiting for an explanation. None came. Lucas noticed that some of the teachers' smiles became rather forced.

  "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

  Dumbledore flicked his wand as if he wanted to get a fly off the end and a long, golden ribbon flew out of it, where it rose above the staff's table and twisted itself into large words.

  "Everyone pick your favourite tune," Dumbledore instructed them, "and off we go!"

  And the school sang:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,
For now, they're bare and full of air, 
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."

  Everyone finished at different paces. In the end, only Fred and George were left, who were singing to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few notes, and when they were done, he was one of the ones who had clapped the loudest.

  "Ah, music," he declared, tears in his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

  The Slytherin first years followed a Slytherin prefect, Gemma Farley, out of the Great Hall, down a set of stone steps, and into the dungeons. She led them down the drafty corridor and in front of a stone wall.

  "Sacred Twenty-Eight," Gemma told the wall, and it swung open. They walked through and entered into the Slytherin common room, which was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and large windows that revealed the depths of the Great Lake.

  Gemma showed the girls into one door to their dormitories, and the boys in another. At the top of a staircase, they found their beds- five four-posters beds hung with green silk hangings. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to say much, the first years each chose a bed, pulled on their pyjamas and laid in bed. Lucas fell asleep at once.

  As soon as he fell asleep, Lucas found himself outside the third-floor corridor, with the door ajar. He could faintly make out three voices as something, presumably invisible, pushed the door open.

  The scene faded, and Lucas realized that he was now inside the corridor and a three-headed dog was sniffing madly at something in front of it. Lucas could now hear the voices clearly.

  "What's that at its feet?" a girl whispered.

  "Looks like a harp," someone else answered. "Snape must've left it there."

  "It must wake up the moment you stop playing," a voice that was unmistakably Harry's, concluded. "Well, here goes..."

  A tune rang out throughout the room. Well, it was more of a single note, and it sounded like an owl, but the three-headed dog's eyes had already begun to droop. 

  Lucas watched as Harry jumped down from the trapdoor, followed by Ron, Fred and George's brother, and then Hermione. As soon as Hermione went down, the three-headed dog woke up and glanced around looking for who had just left and its red eyes fixed on Lucas. For a second, the dog just stared at him, then it opened its drooling mouth, which came down on him, and the dream faded to black.

  Lucas sat up quickly, drenched in a cold sweat. It was clear that was the forbidden third-floor corridor and that Harry would go searching for it.

  "I love my life," Lucas mumbled sarcastically. "Cheery. Real cheery. All sunshine and rainbows."

  Lucas laid back down and rolled over, determined to at least have a good night's sleep. If not, well, his roommates would have to suffer with him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Slytherin Head of House

 "There, look."

  "Where?"

  "Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

  "Wearing the glasses?"

  "Did you see his face?"

  "Did you see his scar?"

  As Lucas passed by Harry and Ron in an attempt to get to his classes on time, whispers followed Harry the entire day. People waiting outside classrooms would stand on their tippy-toes to see him properly, and several people doubled back again, staring at him. Lucas almost felt sick. Didn't they have better things to do? Didn't they realize that they were making him uncomfortable?

  And that was only part of it.

  There were a total of one hundred forty-two staircases in Hogwarts. There were wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led to someplace different on a certain day, and then there were some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Some doors wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or unless you tickled them in exactly the right place, or doors that were only walls pretending to be doors. It was almost impossible to remember where everything was since everything seemed to move. Fred and George gave him the Marauders' Map, a map that would show a map of Hogwarts, the secret passages out, and everyone in Hogwarts.

  The ghosts weren't much help either. It was a terrible right when one of the ghosts suddenly floated through the wall in front of you and Lucas nearly killed one out of fright. Luckily no one saw. Some of the ghosts were alright, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if he caught you on your way to class. He would drop baskets on your head, pull rugs from underneath your feet, toss bits of chalk on you, or grab you from behind and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" It was terribly amusing if he did it to someone else, but not so much when it happened to you.

  And then, once you found the classes, it wasn't all wand-waving and magic words.

  They had to study the night sky through their telescopes at night every Wednesday and learn all the names of the stars and movement of the planets, which Lucas caught on pretty quickly, even if it wasn't his favourite subject. Three times a week they went to the greenhouses behind the castle to learn Herbology with a little witch named Professor Sprout, where they learned about all the different sorts of magical fungi and plants and their uses.

  Easily the most boring subject was History of Magic, which was the only class whose Professor was a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old when he fell asleep in front of the staff room fire, where he left his body behind as got up the next morning to teach. Professor Binns droned on and on, and Lucas could only keep up by scribbling the topic on a piece of parchment, then reading up on it later.

  Charms was also different. It was taught by Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard that had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. The spells were fairly easy to remember for Lucas, especially since most of them had Latin or Greek roots.

  Professor McGonagall was different as well. Lucas's impression that she was not someone to cross was right. Stern and bright, she gave them a speech as soon as they entered the classroom.

  "Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she informed them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

  She then transfigured her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed by this and couldn't wait to get started, but it was soon blatantly clear that they wouldn't be turning furniture into animals for a very long time. After making a long list of very complicated notes, they were each given a match, and by the end of the lesson, they had to succeed in making it turn into a needle. By the end of the lesson, Lucas had only managed to turn his match into half of a needle.

  The class every first-year was looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that turned out to be a bit of a laughing stock. It was taught by Professor Quirrell, a young man with pale skin, who sported a purple turban. His classroom had a strong smell of garlic, which was used to ward off a vampire he had met in Romania and he was afraid of it coming back to get him if you believed the rumours. He had told them his turban had been gifted to him from an African prince as a thank you gift for fighting off a difficult zombie, but everyone knew that it was a lie- even Crabbe and Goyle knew it, and they were the biggest idiots Lucas had ever encountered. For one, when Theodore Nott asked how he had fought the zombie off, he turned pink and changed the subject. For another, there was a funny smell coming from the turban, which Fred and George swore it was because it was also stuffed with garlic so Quirrell could be protected where ever he went.

  Friday was a very dreadful day. Sure, he had managed to get to the Great Hall without getting lost for once, but that was about it.

  "What've we got?" Blaise asked. Blaise Zabini was the dark-skinned boy he had managed to prod a laugh out of at the Start-of-Term feast, and they had quickly become friends. He was tolerable- when he wasn't talking about blood purity like the others, and friendly. He couldn't just be friends with the twins and Lee.

  "Double Potions with the Gryffindors," Lucas replied darkly. In truth, he was quite happy. While he knew that Snape, the Slytherin Head of House, favoured Slytherins, he wanted to be able to keep an eye on Harry, especially after the dream. He was pretty sure that having dreams about the future wasn't normal, but he didn't care. The warning was nice. He only had Potions with the Gryffindors and he hoped that Harry wouldn't be dead before Potions.

  The Potions classroom was located in one of the dungeons. It was easily much colder than anywhere else in the castle, including the Slytherin dungeons and would've been creepy even without the pickled animals floating in jars that were adorned all over the room.

  Snape had started the class by taking the register, and when he got Harry's name, he paused. "Ah, yes," he said quietly and softly. "Harry Potter. Our new- celebrity."

  Lucas heard Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. He rolled his eyes, careful to not let anyone see. Why did Snape have to do that? It wasn't as if Harry had asked for Voldemort to kill him.

  Snape finished calling the names and scanned the class. His eyes were black, and they were cold and empty, like a long, dark tunnel.

  "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. His voice was barely a whisper, but they caught every word. Like Professor McGonagall, he had the skill to keep a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

  There was a prolonged silence where nobody spoke- Lucas saw Hermione sitting on the edge of her seat, no doubt wanting to prove to Snape that she wasn't a dunderhead.

  "Potter!" Snape exclaimed suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

  Lucas watched as Harry looked at Ron, stumped, while Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

  Lucas shifted on his seat. He was sure he had read that somewhere, but he couldn't remember. 

  "I don't know, Sir," Harry replied.

  Snape's lip curled up in a sneer. "Tut, tut- fame clearly isn't everything." 

  He continued to ignore Hermione's hand.

  "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

  At this, Lucas was pretty sure he knew the answer. From the stomach of a goat. But surely Snape didn't expect Harry to remember every single detail in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?

  Lucas's question was soon answered.

  "I don't know, Sir."

  "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape asked him.

  Lucas swore internally. And it wasn't pleasant, either. Why did Snape hate so much? That wasn't the cause of favouriting Slytherins, that was hatred.

  Snape was still ignoring Hermione's vibrating hand.

  "What is the difference, Potter, between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

  Lucas glanced at Harry, hoping that he could at least know one of them. Hermione had stood up. Monkshood and Wolfsbane were the same. Lucas didn't need anyone to tell him that. He had overheard a debate on plants by the Demeter cabin, and he had learned that they were different names for the same plant. 

  "I don't know," Harry replied quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

  At this, a few people laughed and Lucas bit his tongue to keep quiet, though he soon regretted doing this when he accidentally drew a bit of blood.

  Snape, however, was not amused. "Sit down!" he snapped at Hermione. Lucas pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill assuming that Snape was going to reveal the answers. "For your information, Potter," he continued, "asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

  There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Lucas had already finished writing it down. 

  "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter," he told Harry as the other students were copying it down.

  Things got worse for the Gryffindors as the lesson progressed, and Lucas couldn't help but feel bad for the Gryffindors. Snape had put them all into pairs and set them to brewing a simple Cure for Boils potion. He swept across the classroom in his black robes, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone except for Lucas, who he seemed to like for some odd reason. Snape was just informing the class of how well he had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the room. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted lump and their potion was dripping onto the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds the whole class stood on their stools while Neville, who had managed to drench himself in the potion when Seamus's cauldron melted, moaned in pain as boils sprang up on his arms and legs.

  "Idiot boy!" Snape hissed as he vanished the spilt potion with one flick of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

  Neville whimpered in pain as boils started to emerge on his nose. It was a gruesome sight.

  "Take him to the Hospital Wing," Snape ordered Seamus. Then he turned to Harry and Ron, who were working next to them. "You- Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

  Lucas saw Harry open his mouth to argue but immediately closed it. Smart. From what he'd seen so far, Snape could probably be brutal when he wanted to be.

  As Lucas climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, he headed directly to the library. He figured it would be better to get homework out of the way so he could concentrate on the quest. Besides, nearly all the Slytherins hated the library. It would be an excellent place to hide from them, except for the fact that he seriously doubted that Lee and the twins would go there. 

  When he entered, he headed for a corner of the library that was in the Transfiguration section. He sat down and decided to do his Astronomy homework, which consisted of writing the names of the stars that were located in the constellation Cygnus.

  When he was done, he was putting the parchment away in his bag when he glanced up and saw Hermione looking for a book in the section he was in.

  "Do you need help?" he asked her. 

  She looked at him in surprise. "Sure!" she replied. "I just wanted a book on transfiguration for some light reading."

  Lucas shook his head. "Based on what I've seen so far, I wouldn't be surprised if you're the top of the class," he told her. "I'm pretty sure you could give Rowena Ravenclaw a run for her money."

  She blushed. "Well, I wouldn't put it that far."

  "It's the truth," Lucas replied. "Draco Malfoy."

  "Hermione Granger."

  "Nice name," Lucas commented. "So, what book do you want?" He had stood up and walked over to where Hermione was.

  "Transformation Through the Ages," Hermione replied.

  They soon found the book and chatted for a bit. Hermione strongly reminded Lucas of Annabeth, though Hermione wasn't as aggressive, nor did she look like Annabeth. Lucas almost laughed at himself. Of course, he would befriend more Gryffindors than Slytherins, with one of them being a bookworm. When she got up to leave, Lucas almost wanted to keep talking, even if he had homework to finish and the fact that she made him nostalgic for Camp Half-Blood. Then again, Fred and George reminded him of Connor and Travis.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Cerebus's Twin

When Fred and George told Lucas that their brother, Ron, became friends with Harry, Lucas didn't anticipate how hard Ron would make his quest.

  He could cope with the insults and name-calling. Sure, it hurt, but he always laughed it off and made a joke out of it. To make matters worse, Ron had successfully convinced Harry to hate him. But as Hecate said, if he decides he hates you, go out of your way to follow him. The fact that Lucas always had a retort available probably didn't help either.

  Then a notice was pinned up in the Slytherin Common Room stating that Slytherins and Gryffindors would have Flying Lessons together, which would start on Thursday. Most of the Slytherins groaned, but Lucas kept his expression neutral.

  "What do you think?" Blaise asked him.

  "Dunno," Lucas replied truthfully. True, he was excited to learn to fly, and the lesson would allow him to keep an eye on Harry, but he really wasn't in the mood for their insults. And name-calling.

  Blaise raised an eyebrow. 

  "I don't have an opinion," Lucas clarified. "I honestly don't care."

  Blaise snorted. "That's rich, considering you're the one that gets yelled at the most."

  "Since when do I care?" Lucas asked him. "They're terrible at insults. And their glares? It's like a puppy eating a marshmallow."

  Lucas and Blaise both burst into laughter.

  "I don't know how you do it," Blaise said.

  "Do what?" Lucas asked innocently, knowing the answer.

  "Make people laugh without trying."

  Lucas grinned. "It's inherited."

  Blaise rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "I can't wait for the lesson," he told him. "Just you wait. When it comes to our second year, I'll be the best Chaser the Slytherin Quidditch team has ever seen."

  Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I don't think you'd meet the criteria. Have you seen the team members?" He shook his head. "And, for the record, you talk about flying and Quidditch way too much."

  Blaise scoffed, which Lucas gladly ignored. Contrary to what Blaise believed, he did talk about Quidditch a lot. Lucas would often be forced to endure long talks of the different types of broomsticks and teams. More often than not, Lucas would zone out, than be brought out of his thoughts by Blaise scolding him for not listening.

  Blaise wasn't the only one. In fact, most of the Slytherins talked about flying. Possibly more than blood purity. Scratch that, they talked about flying all the time. Especially the Quidditch Captain, Marcus Flint. He would tell anyone who would listen about the Quidditch techniques and whether Slytherin would win the Inter-House Quidditch Cup again this year. Everyone in the school that came from wizarding families would talk about Quidditch. Even some of the insults directed to muggle-borns had Quidditch in them. 

  As he was eating breakfast in the Great Hall, he managed to hear Hermione's lecture about flying tips that she had gotten from a library book, Quidditch Through the Ages. Lucas almost felt sorry for the Gryffindors. Almost. But then, Blaise was talking his ear off with Quidditch, so he couldn't talk. Luckily Blaise's monologue was interrupted by the morning post.

  Lucas got post every day, much to his horror. The Malfoy family's owl, which was an eagle owl, brought packages of sweets every single day, which he would open, then stuff everything back in. He would usually give the packages to Fred and George to hex. Of course, he would also help and sometimes he would give it to them already hexed.

  As he slunk away from the Slytherin table to go for a walk on the school grounds before classes, he overheard a conversation occurring on the Gryffindor table.

  "It's a Remembrall!" he heard Neville exclaim excitedly. "Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red- oh..." Lucas watched as his face fell because the Remembrall had just glowed scarlet, "you've forgotten something..."

  Lucas walked over as Neville screwed his face up in concentration, trying to remember what it was exactly that he had forgotten. 

  "Maybe your Potions book," Lucas suggested. It was true- Neville's bag was slightly open, and from what Lucas could see, his Potions book was missing.

  Ron lept to his feet, seemingly determined to throw an insult at him. "Go stuff yourself, Malfoy," he spat.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, I'm so terrified," he said sarcastically. "Please take mercy on me- what did I ever do to you?" Lucas stalked off before anyone could reply, well aware of Fred and George's surprised looks, as well as Hermione's shocked expression.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At exactly three-thirty that afternoon, Lucas, Blaise, and the other first-year Slytherins walked quickly down the stone, front steps into the grounds as they made their way to their first flying lesson. Lucas was excited for the lesson, even if he tried to not let it show. The day was a clear, breezy day and the grass underneath their feet rippled as they marched down the sloping hills to a smooth lawn opposite to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swinging darkly in the distance.

  The Gryffindors had yet to arrive, and about twenty broomsticks were lying on the grass in neat rows. During the nights where Lucas would meet up with Fred and George, he had heard a lot about the school brooms, none of it good. Some would start to vibrate if you flew too high, or they would always fly slightly to the left.

  Soon after the Gryffindors had arrived, their professor, Madam Hooch had also arrived. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes not unlike a hawk.

  "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

  Lucas bit his lip as he glanced at his broom. It looked like something you would find in a museum and some of the twigs on the end looked far too short. 

  "Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch instructed them from the front. "And say, 'Up!'"

  Lucas's broom jumped up at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione's had simply rolled over, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Maybe brooms could sense when you were afraid, Lucas thought. It couldn't be plainer that Neville wanted to keep both feet on the ground, which was probably for the best. He managed to have an extraordinary amount of accidents with both feet on the ground. Theodore Nott's broom came up extremely fast and whacked him in the face, and Lucas hid a grin.

  Then Madam Hooch taught them how to mount their brooms without falling off- she walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Ron and Harry were extremely happy when Madam Hooch corrected Lucas's grip- they obviously thought that he'd been doing it for years.

  "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she told them. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

  She was cut by Neville, who was too afraid of being left on the ground- he had pushed off hard before the whistle had even touched Madam Hooch's lips.

  "Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising like a cork shooting out of a bottle. He rose twelve feet- twenty feet. Lucas watched as his pale white face look down at the ground in fear, and as he gasped and slipped off the broom.

  There was a thud and a nasty crack as laid face down on the lawn in a tangled heap, and Lucas winced in sympathy. Neville's broomstick was still rising higher, drifting lazily towards the Forbidden Forest.

  Madam Hooch was hunched over Neville, her face almost as pale as his.

  "Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy- it's alright, up you get."

  She turned to the rest of them. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

  Neville, whose face was streaked with tears, clutched his wrist and tottered after Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Blaise burst into laughter.

  "Did you see his face, the great lump?" Blaise asked.

  The other Slytherins joined in, while Lucas became annoyed. Why did he have to get sorted into the house of big bullies?

  "Shut up, Zabini," Parvati Patil snapped.

  "Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy asked. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry babies, Parvati."

  Lucas snapped. He would've taken on all of the Slytherins, if not for Hermione, who held him back.

  "Let me at them," he hissed.

  "No!" she hissed back. "You'll just get all of us in trouble."

  Eventually, Lucas relented, and for some miracle, nobody noticed their exchange.

  "Look!" Blaise exclaimed, running forward and picking up something off the ground. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

  The Remembrall shone in the sun as Blaise held it up.

  "Give that here, Zabini," Harry said to Blaise. The was a period of silence as everyone stopped to watch.

  Blaise smiled cruelly.

  "No, I don't think so," he informed Harry. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- how about- up a tree?"

  "Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Blaise had mounted his broomstick and taken off. Considering he talked about flying constantly, it was no surprise that Blaise could fly well. In a matter of seconds, he was hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak.

  "Come and get it, Potter!" Blaise called out.

  Lucas watched as Harry grabbed his broom, but Hermione held a hand out.

  "No!" Hermione scolded him. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble."

  Harry had ignored her. He mounted his broom and he rose effortlessly. Lucas heard girls scream and gasp and Ron's whoop of glee. Lucas couldn't help but feel the same. Harry was a natural on the broomstick.

  Lucas looked at Harry and Blaise, amused as he watched Harry turn his broomstick and Blaise's stunned look.

  "Give it here," Harry told Blaise, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

  Blaise tried to sneer, "Oh yeah?" but he looked worried.

  Harry leant forward and held the broom tightly between his hands and it shot towards Blaise like a lance. Blaise had only got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp u-turn and held his broomstick steady. A few people next to Lucas were clapping.

  "Nobody up here to save your neck, Zabini," Harry taunted. 

  The same thought seemed to have occurred to Blaise.

  "Catch it if you can, then," Blaise shouted, and he Remembrll high in the air- it streaked upwards then fell as gravity took hold of it.

  Harry had leant forward and pointed the broom handle down. The next second, he was gathering velocity in a steep plunge, racing the ball. He stretched out his hand and when he was a foot from the ground he caught it- just in time to pull out of the dive. He toppled gently onto the grass, the Remembrall clutched safely in his hand.

  "HARRY POTTER!" 

  Lucas flinched, hand instinctively going to his pocket as Professor McGonagall ran towards them. She was furiously glaring at Harry, who had gotten to his feet, trembling.

  "Never- in all my time at Hogwarts-"

  Professor McGonagall was almost voiceless with shock, her glasses glinting furiously. "-how dare you- might have broken your neck-"

  "It wasn't his fault Professor-"

  "Be quiet Miss Patil-"

  "But Zabini-"

  "That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

  As Professor McGonagall led Harry towards the castle, muttering under her breath, Lucas's heart sank. Would Harry be expelled? If so, how would Lucas be able to complete his quest? 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Lucas saw Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table looking quite happy, to say Lucas was relieved would be an understatement. He was overjoyed. 

  Then Blaise dragged him over to propose a Wizard's duel with Harry and Ron, and he immediately soured. At least he had proposed the Trophy Room. It was very close to the third-floor corridor. Hopefully, they'd find it and know not to go looking for the duplicate of Cerebus.

  To make matters worse, Blaise had set them up. He told them his magnificent plan to get them in trouble, and Lucas almost punched him in the face. Almost. If not for the fact that Gemma was there.

  "Smart, eh?" he asked him as they got into their dormitory.

  "Yeah," Lucas said sarcastically. "Just like a Slytherin."

  He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: The Troll

"What?" Lucas asked, annoyed. Blaise had been tapping him on the shoulder ever since they had entered the Great Hall, and it was irritating.

  "I don't believe it!" Blaise exclaimed. "Look!"

  Lucas glanced at where Blaise was pointing at, which turned out to be the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were fine, and they seemed to be talking about the three-headed dog quite happily, which sank Lucas's spirits. They seemed to be keen to get into more trouble if anything.

  "You'll have more chances to get at them," Lucas told Blaise bitterly. And he'd have a better chance to convince them not to go looking for the dog. But if they did, he'd do his best to help them, even if not directly.

  Blaise sighed wistfully. "True," he said.

  Lucas ignored him and continued eating. Ever since Blaise had pulled off that stunt in their flying lesson, Lucas had been acting cold to him. He found it was much easier than yelling at him, though that didn't work out. After that lesson, Blaise asked him what was wrong, and it had led to their first-ever row. No, it was Lucas's first row with anyone. He had never been mad enough at anyone to have a shouting match.

  All Lucas really wanted now was a confirmation that Harry was not going to be expelled. Luckily for him, the answer came two weeks later. 

  It had started with the owls flooding into the Great Hall as usual, along with Lucas's daily package of sweets, which he didn't bother to open. Immediately what caught his eye was a thin, long package, which was carried by six large screech owls. They had soared to the Gryffindor table, plopping the package in front of Harry.

  "Let's go cut them off at the stairs," Blaise said gleefully.

  Lucas gripped his fork tightly so that it was slightly bent. "Fine," he gritted out.

  Blaise jumped up and ran out of the hall, pulling Lucas along, who was just about to knock his teeth in. Why did he have to become friends with the biggest bully in Hogwarts?

  After a few minutes, Harry and Ron had exited the Great Hall and was heading towards the stairs to go upstairs, carrying the package. Blaise grabbed the package and felt it.

  "That's a broomstick," Blaise said gloomily as he threw it back to Harry. He had a mixture of jealousy and resentment on his face, which lightened up Lucas's day considerably. "You'll be for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

  "That's not any old broomstick," Ron interjected, not being able to resist it, "it's a Nimbus two thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Zabini, a Comet two-sixty?" Lucas watched with amusement as Blaise's face got angrier and angrier. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

  "What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Blaise retorted back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

  Before Ron respond with a retort or violence, Professor Flitwick appeared at Lucas's shoulder.

  "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

  "Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Blaise replied quickly, evidently hoping to get Harry in trouble.

  "Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick exclaimed, beaming happily at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

  "A Nimbus two thousand, Sir," Harry replied. Lucas snuck away from Blaise to laugh and went to find Fred and George. They hadn't seen each other much and Lucas wasn't about to give up the chance to laugh behind Blaise's back.

  "Hey," Lucas said, coming up behind Fred and George, who were in an empty classroom plotting on the best way to get rid of Filch. 

  They both whirled around. "Don't do that!" they exclaimed.

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. "I would've thought you'd have better reflexes."

  "Yeah, yeah," George said, rolling his eyes. "Usually the Bludger gives us a warning. You don't."

  Lucas scoffed. "If I was trying to kill you, why would I tell you I'm coming? Besides, it's not all Bludgers," he said.

  "You instantly know when someone's there!" Fred protested.

  "It's called inborn battle reflexes," Lucas corrected him. "Besides, I'm ADHD."

  "Which is?" George asked.

  "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I'm naturally hyper. And the three of us all have it."

  The last time they saw each other, he had snuck out with Fred and George. They were using the Marauders' Map, which even the Mist couldn't fool, so naturally, it showed Lucas Castellan on it, instead of Draco Malfoy. They had asked him what it was all about, and Lucas had explained. He had also accidentally let slip that he was a demigod, which he didn't bother to cover up since he found out they were his half brothers.

  Fred frowned. "What's with the happy attitude?"

  "What, I can't be happy?" Lucas retorted. "You should've seen Blaise's face at Harry's broomstick."

  Fred and George stared at him in surprise. "You're joking," they said simultaneously. 

  "Nope."

  "Harry has a broomstick?"

  Lucas nodded, failing to contain his laughter. "A Nimbus two thousand," he replied. "Blaise tried to get him expelled and instead landed him on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

  Fred and George burst into laughter.

  "Amazing!" George declared. 

  Lucas nodded. "I'd like to see the look on Flint's face."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maybe it was because of the quest, with Lucas trying to keep an eye on Harry 24/7 and him trying to covertly convince Harry not to go looking for the three-headed dog on top of his classes, but Lucas could hardly realize that he had already been at Hogwarts for two months. Hogwarts was like a second home to him after Camp Half-Blood. The lessons had become much more interesting, too, since they had already covered the basics.

  On Halloween morning, Lucas had entered the Great Hall to the smell of baked pumpkins in the corridors, save for the dungeons. It had lightened up his day considerably (he had never celebrated Halloween before), but by the end of the day, it had taken a bad turn. Just his luck. Why couldn't he have a nice day?

  The Halloween Feast was nice. It was simply wonderful. A thousand live bats swooped fluttered from the walls and ceiling while more swooped down onto the tables, making the candles placed in the pumpkins shake. The food appeared on the golden plates, just as it had on the Start-of-Term Feast. 

  Lucas was just helping himself to some pork chops when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, his turban crooked and his pale face full of terror. Everyone had their eyes on him as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, collapsed against the table in and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know."

  Then he fell to the floor as he fainted.

  The noise in the hall became much louder. It took many purple firecrackers from the tip of Dumbledore's wand for the Great Hall to become silent.

  "Prefects," he thundered, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

  Gemma lept up and began herding the Slytherins.

  "Follow me! Stick together, first years! Stay close together!"

  She led them down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. Before long, food was sent to the Slytherin Common Room, and Lucas started eating, trying to ignore Blaise, who was fantasizing about how wonderful it would be if the troll broke into the Gryffindor Tower.

  "Blaise, will you please shut up," Lucas hissed after a while. Lucas was worried that Harry and Ron might've gone to fight the troll and the fact that most of his friends were Gryffindors did nothing to help his anxiety.

  But, there was nothing he could do about it. He could only wait and hope for the best. Maybe the troll could be taken care of without anyone getting hurt.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: The Quidditch Match

As November came around, the weather became very cold. The mountains surrounding the school became icy grey and the lake looked like frozen steel. Every morning the ground was covered in a thin sheet of frost. Hagrid could be seen defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long, moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves and large beaverskin boots. Lucas would sometimes help him when he had time.

  To top it off, the Quidditch season had begun. Lucas found a new way to annoy Blaise- by cheering for Gryffindor. He never liked Slytherin in the first place, and he thoroughly enjoyed pissing Blaise off. Whether it was teasing him, saying his name multiple times or talking to Gryffindors, Lucas enjoyed the look on Blaise's face as it got redder and redder. 

  From what Fred and George had told him, Harry had become the Seeker. Oliver Wood, who was the Gryffindor Quidditch team Captain, had wanted to keep it a secret, so naturally, everyone knew. While Lucas kept his promise, Harry had told Ron, who told Hermione, which was overheard by Neville, and, well, by the end of the week, everyone knew. The fact that Blaise knew probably didn't help either.

  At least Quidditch would keep Harry's mind off the three-headed dog. Maybe. Chances are it wouldn't. Sometimes it seemed like Harry was a trouble magnet, attracting all sorts of trouble.

  The day before the first Quidditch match, Harry, Ron and Hermione were outside in the courtyard. Hermione had become friends with them since they had saved her from the troll on Halloween, and Lucas couldn't complain. The girl needed more friends. Besides, Lucas figured that she could help him keep them alive. 

  That day was freezing, like any other day. Hermione had conjured bluebell flames and carried them in a jam jar so she, Harry and Ron could be warm. Lucas was close to them, reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing with their backs to it, getting warm when Snape limped over. Lucas watched out of the corner of his eye as he stood closer to hide the flames. Unfortunately, their guilty faces caught Snape's eye, and he limped over, wanting to find something to get them in trouble for.

  "What's that you've got there, Potter?" Snape asked Harry.

  Harry showed him the book he was holding. It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Why he was so obsessed with Quidditch, Lucas would never know.

  "Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape snapped. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

  "Oh, that's just low," Lucas muttered as Snape walked (limped) away. "Making up a rule just to take points away from Gryffindor? Hope his leg falls off."

  Over by the bluebell flames, the trio was also thinking among the same thoughts. Harry was complaining about Snape's unfairness, while Ron was wishing that Snape's leg was bothering him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the next morning at eleven o'clock, the whole school seemed to be out there. Lucas had undone the Mist and snuck to the Gryffindors, not bothering to even pretend to support the Slytherins. After the courtyard incident, he went and had a conversation with Blaise, where he 'accidentally' let slip that he was supporting Gryffindor. He was also wearing the same thing he wore on the Hogwarts Express to fit in. He went behind Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder. 

  "Hey," he greeted her.

  She turned in surprise. "Hi," she said. Beside her, Ron was staring at the pitch, waiting for the game to start, so he hadn't seen Lucas. "Is it Draco?"

  Lucas grinned. "Yeah. I've decided to support Gryffindor."

  "But why?" Hermione asked, confused.

  Lucas shrugged. "Never wanted to be in Slytherin anyway," he replied. "Besides, I enjoy pissing off Blaise. You should've seen his face. Priceless."

  Hermione sighed. "He's going to murder you."

  "Let him try," Lucas said stubbornly.

  Hermione laughed in disbelief, and Lucas stared at her in surprise. That was the first time he had heard her laugh.

  "What?" she asked at his surprised expression. She crossed her arms. "Just because you never heard me doesn't mean I can't laugh."

  Lucas shook his head. "I think it's starting."

  And it was. The two teams, Slytherin and Gryffindor had entered the pitch, and the cheers were deafening.

  Madam Hooch was the referee. She stood in the middle of the pitch, talking to both teams about something that Lucas couldn't make out. Well, it was more towards the Slytherin team. 

  Then, the game started as the teams mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her whistle and the fifteen brooms rose high in the air.

  "And the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

  "JORDAN!"

  "Sorry, Professor."

  Lucas stifled a chuckle. Lee was commenting on the match, under close supervision from Professor McGonagall.

  "And she's really belting above out there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve- back to Johnson and- no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes- Flint flying like an eagle up there- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryfindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor takes the Quaffle- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH- that must've hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger- Quaffle taken by Slytherin- that's Adrien Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which- nice play by the Gryfindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes- she's really flying- dodges a speeding Bludger- the goal posts are ahead- come on, now, Angelina- Keeper Bletchley dives- misses- GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

  Lucas cheered along with the Gryffindors, drowning out the Slytherins' groans.

  "Budge up there, move along," a gruff voice said.

  "Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed.

  Lucas watched Hermione and Ron squeeze together to make space for Hagrid.

  "Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid said. He had a large pair of binoculars around his neck. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

  "Nope," Ron replied. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

  "Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid said. He raised his binoculars and peered upwards at the speck that was Harry.

  Lucas was glad that Harry did because from what he'd heard from Fred and George, there was a chance that anyone could be killed in the game. They had said that no one at Hogwarts had suffered anything worse than a broken jaw, but Lucas was still on edge.

  That was another reason he had cheered for Gryffindor- to keep an eye on Harry. No one would be suspicious of him if he was watching Harry while cheering for Gryffindor.

  Harry was gliding above them, squinting around for the Snitch. Lucas assumed that that was their game plan. Either way, he couldn't complain. It made his job easier. He was learning the Cushioning Charm in case Harry fell off his broom, but he hadn't mastered it yet.

  When Angelina had scored, Lucas watched as Harry did some loop-the-loops, then resumed searching for the Snitch. Lucas began wondering if he should've learned some Healing magic as the game continued. Once a Bludger came at Harry, and Lucas's heartbeat quickened. Luckily Harry dodged it, and Fred came chasing after it to pelt at Flint.

  "Slytherin in possession," Lee was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the- wait a moment- was that the Snitch?"

  A murmur went through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle (Lucas had laughed at this), too busy looking at the flash of gold that had just passed his ear.

  And then Harry saw it. He and the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, hurtled after the Snitch, neck to neck. All the Chasers stopped what they were doing to watch- it seemed that they forgot what they were supposed to do.

  Harry was much faster than Higgs. He put on a sudden burst of speed when-

  WHAM! A roar of rage came from all around Lucas, and he winced, though he felt the same. Flint had blocked Harry and Harry flew off course, nearly falling off.

  "Foul!" the Gryffindors all yelled. Lucas forced a calming breath into his lungs to calm down.

  Madam Hooch spoke furiously with Flint, then ordered a free shot at the goal post for Gryffindor. But amidst all that chaos, the Snitch had disappeared.

  In the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

  "This isn't football, Dean," Ron told him. "You can't send people off in Quidditch- and what's a red card?"

  Hagrid, however, was taking Dean's side, and Lucas could hardly argue.

  "They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

  Lee was finding it near impossible not to be biased.

  "So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

  "Jordan!" Professor McGonagall snarled.

  "I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

  "Jordan, I'm warning you-"

  "All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

  It was as Harry dodged another Bludger that disaster struck. His Nimbus two thousand had given a sudden lurch. For a fraction of a second, Lucas thought he was going to fall. He watched as Harry gripped the broomstick with his hands and knees.

  Then it happened again. It looked like the broomstick was trying to buck Harry off, as a horse might do to a rider. But that would be ridiculous. Broomsticks did not suddenly decide to buck people off. As far as Lucas was concerned, broomsticks did not have a mind of their own. Lucas watched as Harry tried to turn towards the goalposts, to no avail. Harry's broomstick was now zig-zagging through the air and occasionally making sudden swooshing movements that threatened to launch Harry off of the broom. Lucas silently pulled out his wand, gripping it tightly, keeping his eyes on Harry.

  Lee was still commenting, unaware of the problem with Harry's broom, like everyone else.

  "Slytherin in possession- Flint with the Quaffle- passes Spinnet- passes Bell- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose- only joking, Professor- Slytherin score- oh no..."

  The Slytherins were cheering loudly. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's Nimbus two thousand was acting strangely. It was carrying Harry farther from the game, convulsing and twitching as it went. Lucas felt like grabbing the megaphone and alerting everyone about Harry's situation.

  "Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. Lucas closed his eyes. Why was he so dense? It was obvious that Harry had lost control of his broom.

  "If I didn' know better," Hagrid continued, "I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can' have..."

  Suddenly, people all over the stands gasped and pointed up at Harry. His broom had just rolled over multiple times, with Harry just barely holding on. Then a loud gasp came from the crowd. Harry's broom had given a violent jerk and Harry almost fell off. He was now clutching his broom tightly with one hand. 

  "Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered anxiously.

  "Can't have," Hagrid replied, his voice quivering. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus two thousand."

  At this, Hermione seized the binoculars from Hagrid and hurriedly scanned the stands with it. 

  "What are you doing?" Ron moaned, his face grey.

  "I knew it," Hermione panted. "Snape- look."

  Ron took the binoculars, and Lucas scanned the crowd for Snape. He could faintly see that from the stands opposite of them, Snape had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. A few rows above him, Lucas saw Quirrel doing the same thing, but there was a strange expression- close to psychotic.

  "He's doing something- jinxing the broom," Hermione explained.

  "What should we do?" Ron asked.

  "Leave it to me."

  "Her-" Lucas cut himself off seeing as Hermione had already vanished. Lucas was pretty sure that Quirrell was the one that was jinxing the broom. Snape was just performing the counter-jinx. Lucas turned his gaze to Harry. Fred and George tried to pull Harry onto their broom to no avail. The Nimbus two thousand simply lurched higher every time they tried to grab him. Abandoning that tactic, they circled below him, seemingly hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times, unnoticed by anyone else.

  "Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered uneasily. Lucas gripped his wand to the point that he was sure it would snap.

  Hermione had fought her way to the stands opposite of them and was now rushing along the row behind Snape- she didn't even pause to say sorry when she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered a spell. Bright blue flames (bluebell flames) shot out of her wand and settled on Snape's cloak.

  It took approximately thirty seconds for Snape to realize his cloak was set on fire. When he did, he gave a sudden yelp. Knowing that she had done her job, Hermione scooped up the bright blue flames and into a jar. She then scrambled back over to Ron.

  It worked perfectly. Above the Quidditch pitch, Harry was able to hoist himself back on his broom.

  "Neville, you can look!" Ron told Neville, who had been sobbing into Hagrid's coat for the past five minutes. 

  Harry was rushing to the ground when Lucas noticed that he clapped his hand to his mouth as though he was going to be sick. When he reached the ground, he hit the ground on all fours, coughed, and something gold fell into his hands.

  "I've got the Snitch!" Harry yelled, waving it above his head, ending the game in complete confusion. Lucas almost laughed.

  "he didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint howled, as he was doing for the past twenty minutes, but it made no difference. Harry hadn't broken any rules as far as Lucas knew- the rules stated that a game would end as soon as the Seeker caught the Snitch, and Lee was still happily announcing the score- Gryffindor had won by one hundred seventy points to sixty. Lucas's mood quickly dampened, though. He was on the island located in the middle of the Black Lake, where Hermione was telling him her suspicions.

  "I tell you, it was Snape," Hermione said. "He was jinxing Harry's broomstick, wouldn't take his eyes off of him."

  Lucas sighed. "Look, I know some jinxes require eye contact but did you actually look more closely?" 

  This made Hermione stop her rant. "What do you mean?" she asked.

  "Quirrell was doing the same thing," he explained. "Don't you think he's a bit fishy? He used to teach Muggle Studies. Why would he suddenly show a desire in teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? Especially since he's terrified of the post? Besides, have you ever asked him about his turban? He claims he got it from an African prince as a thank you gift for driving off a troublesome zombie, but when Nott asked how he had gotten rid of it, he abruptly changed the subject. And you didn't see his expression. I'm sure that he was the one jinxing it."

  "Well," Hermione paused and thought about it. "Your reasoning does make sense. Seamus asked the same thing, but he turned pink and talked about the weather. It is suspicious. But Snape despises Harry."

  Lucas thought about it. "You're right," he agreed. "He does hate him. Making up a rule just to take points from Gryffindor? That's a sure sign that it's not the House rivalries. How about this- I'll keep an eye on Snape since he's my Head of House, and you can keep an eye on Quirrell. You have a better relationship with the professors than I do."

  "I wouldn't say that," Hermione said.

  Lucas scoffed. "Please. You're like, the best in our year. I heard you were the only one who was successful in turning a match into a needle."

  "Okay," she replied. "There's something else you need to know. On the third corridor-"

  "The forbidden one?" Lucas interrupted. "The one with the three-headed dog?"

  "Yeah." She looked surprised but didn't question it, which Lucas was fine with. He wasn't sure how he'd explain it to her. "It's called Fluffy," she explained.

  Lucas stared at her in disbelief. "It's. Called. Fluffy?" he asked. "Why the Hades is it called Fluffy?"

  "Don't know," she replied. She hadn't heard the word Hades. "All we know is that it's guarding something, and there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved."

  Lucas nodded. "Got it. So we need to keep an eye on Quirrell and Snape, and we need to find out who Nicolas Flamel is."

  "That's the gist of it," she replied.

  "Alright. Just don't tell Harry and Ron I'm helping, will you? I'm not sure they'd take too kindly."

  As they parted ways, Lucas couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. The dream was going to happen, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Christmas

Before long, Christmas had arrived. One morning in mid-December, the entire school woke to find the grounds covered in multiple feet of gleaming, white powder. There was a thick sheet of ice covering the Black Lake and Fred and George had gotten detention for bewitching snowballs so they bounced on the back of Quirrell's turban. Technically Lucas helped them, but he was more sneaky. The few owls that had managed to brave the stormy weather to deliver post had to be nursed back to full health before they could fly off again.

  Nobody could wait until the holidays. While the Slytherin Common room and the Great Hall, had great, roaring fires, the draughty halls had become incredibly icy and harsh winds clattered the classroom windows. The worst was the Potions classroom, where their breaths rose in a cold mist in front of them as they kept close as possible to their hot cauldrons. It made Lucas nostalgic for Camp Half-Blood, where bad weather never penetrated the magical borders unless they wanted it to.

  "I do feel sorry," Blaise said, one Potions lesson, as they tried to follow the instructions for their potions as best as they could, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

  The Slytherins laughed, but Lucas rolled his eyes and continued measuring his powdered spine of lionfish, resisting the urge to give him a few broken bones. Blaise had become increasingly nasty after the match, and Lucas was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself. Upset that Slytherin had lost the match, he tried to get everyone to laugh by spreading a rumour about how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry's position as a Seeker. Then he soon dawned on him that nobody found this funny because they were all in awe about how Harry had managed to stay on his broomstick. So poor, poor Blaise, who was furious and resentful, had gone back to taunting Harry about not having a proper family.

  True, Harry wasn't going back home for the holidays. And neither was Lucas. Of course, Blaise didn't know that, but Lucas wasn't planning on telling him. If Harry wasn't going back home, Lucas wasn't. He wasn't going to go back to Camp Half-Blood and unintentionally get Harry killed. Besides, the Weasley twins and their brothers were staying too- their parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley were going to Romania to visit Fred and George's brother, Charlie.

  At the end of Potions, Lucas followed Harry and Ron out of the Dungeons, where a ginormous fir tree was taking up the corridor in front of them. Two large feet stuck out behind it and a large puffing sound told Lucas all he needed to know. The person behind the tree was Hagrid.

  "Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, poking his head through the branches.

  "Nah, I'm alright," Hagrid replied. "Thanks, Ron."

  "Would you mind moving out of the way?" Blaise's voice came from behind them, and Lucas sighed. Perfect. Just what he wanted. "Are you trying to earn yourself some extra money, Weasley?" he continued. "Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

  Ron launched himself at Blaise just in time for Snape to see as he came up the stairs.

  "WEASLEY!"

  Ron quickly released his grip on Blaise's robes.

  "He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid explained, his huge, hairy face popping out from behind the tree. "Zabini was insulting his family."

  "Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said smoothly. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you." Snape walked off.

  Lucas sighed. He couldn't believe he was just about to do this. "Next time you should aim for the stomach."

  He pushed past the tree, grinning broadly at Blaise's stunned face and Harry and Ron's surprised expressions as he barged into the library quietly. He had promised to help Hermione find out who Nicolas Flamel is, and he intended to keep that promise. However, it still came with its complications.

  First of all, it's very difficult to find someone you don't know anything about. Lucas knew that he was famous- that much he was sure of, but he didn't know what Nicolas Flamel had done to make himself famous. He had already checked Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. Of course, there was also the fact that the library was ginormous- tens of books, thousands of shelves and hundreds of thin rows.

  After two full hours of searching to no avail, Lucas decided to go to Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic. Binns would most likely bore him to death, but Lucas couldn't see any other way to get information- he was getting tired of searching endlessly through books.

  Lucas knocked on Binns's office door. Lucas was dreading this visit, but he didn't know what else to do. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, Lucas heard Binns's voice.

  "Come in."

  Lucas took a deep breath and opened the door. It was nice, and not what Lucas had expected. It had a warm fireplace, with two bookcases and a teacher's desk. Binns was hovering slightly above the chair by the desk.

  "Professor?" Lucas asked.

  Binns glanced at him. "Mr. Maben."

  "Malfoy, Sir," Lucas corrected, though he knew it wouldn't change anything. When it came to names, Binns was almost as bad as Dionysus. "I was wondering if you could tell me about Nicolas Flamel?"

  Binns stared at him. "Of course," Binns replied. "Nicolas Flamel is an extremely famous alchemist and the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, a substance that can create the Elixir of Life and turn any metal into gold. He was born in the year 1326 and attended Beaxbatons Academy of Magic, where he proceeded to become one of the most famous alchemists to ever exist, and he is currently the oldest wizard in history, at 665 years."

  Lucas nodded. "Thank you," he told Binns. "It really helped me."

  Lucas turned and left Binns's office, making a mental note to inform Hermione of his discovery the next time he saw her. The dog was probably guarding the Philosopher's Stone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time the holidays came, Lucas almost forgot that he was here on a quest, but he couldn't help it. He had the dormitory to himself and the Common room was practically empty. Apparently, everyone in Slytherin had decided to go home for the holidays. Not that Lucas cared. Well, it got a bit lonely at times, but Lucas never liked the Slytherins anyway. Besides, he had set up a lovely surprise for Blaise that Lucas was sure Blaise would (wouldn't) like.

  Lucas also took the empty Common room to his advantage. He had charmed the chairs to turn red and gold and changed the banners hanging around the Common room to Gryffindor banners. He turned the green lamps to radiate gold light, giving a red hue to the Common room that blended with the green light that came from the Black Lake. It lifted his mood greatly.

  On Christmas Eve, Lucas went to bed that night anticipating the food and fun. While they did gifts at Camp Half-Blood, they never actually celebrated it. What he wasn't expecting, however, was a reasonable size pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

  Lucas scrambled out of bed and quickly pulled a pair of jeans on, complete with a green sweater. He didn't like Slytherin, but that didn't mean that green wasn't a nice colour.

  Lucas picked up the package on the top. It was wrapped in silver wrapping paper, with owls adorning it. Written very neatly in Ancient Greek was To Lucas, From Annabeth. Below it had the words Hermes Express stamped on. Inside it was a book on architecture. A Field Guide to American Houses: The Definite Guide to Identifying and Understanding America's Domestic Architecture.

  Lucas chuckled. Of course, Annabeth would send a book about architecture. She was obsessed with architecture.

  The second one was wrapped in a wrapping paper that changed colours. Black to violet to dark purple to dark blue and so on. Instantly Lucas knew that it was from Hecate. There was a wand in it, with a note wrapped around it, which Willow stole and started playing with.

  Lucas laughed. "Give it here, Willow," he said, taking the note from her.

  A spare wand, just in case yours snaps. I made it myself. Red oak and thunderbird tail feather, 11 inches, nice and supple.

  The next one contained sweets- a large box filled with cauldron cakes that were sent by Hermione.

  There was only one package left. Lucas unwrapped it to find a crystal ball in the package. It glowed silver briefly, then showed a vision of Harry entering a room that held a magnificent mirror with a gold frame.

  Lucas glared at the ball. The package said it was from Connor and Travis, but why did they have to send a crystal ball? Lucas knew it was a joke, but that didn't help him calm down.

  Lucas huffed. "Finestra," he muttered, pointing his wand at the ball. His wand gave off a blue light and the crystal ball shattered into minuscule pieces.

  Lucas shoved his wand into a pocket in his sweater and picked up the extra wand. As soon as it touched his hand, it turned into a rune with the word Μονομάχος carved on it. Duellist.

  Lucas's eyes widened. "Cool," he said. "But seriously? Duellist?"

  Sighing, Lucas put it in his pocket alongside his other wand and headed towards the Great Hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas had never had such an extravagant dinner in his entire life, much less a Christmas one. There were a hundred big, fat, roast turkeys, huge piles of roast and boiled potatoes, plates of fat chipolatas, huge bowls of buttered peas, silver boats filled to the brim with gravy and cranberry sauce and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the tables. These crackers were nothing like the ones Muggles used, with their tiny plastic toys and feeble paper hats. Lucas watched Harry pull a cracker with Fred (there was only one table because almost no one had stayed for the holidays) and it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them with blue smoke, while a Rear Admiral's hat and several live, white mice came out. Upon the High Table, Dumbledore had changed his pointy wizards' hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling heartily at a joke Flitwick had just read to him.

  Christmas pudding soon followed the turkey. Percy, who was Fred and George's brother and the Gryffindor Prefect, nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle that was embedded in his slice. Lucas watched in disbelief as Hagrid got redder and redder from drinking wine, finally kissing McGonagall on the cheek who blushed and giggled, her top hat crooked.

  When Lucas left the table, his pocket was full of things from the crackers, such as one of the live mice that he planned to give Willow later and leprechaun gold.

  Lucas spent the rest of the afternoon in the Forbidden Forest, where he met a centaur by the name of Firenze, with who he sparred until he was drenched in sweat. Then he walked a bit closer to the edge of the forest, where he was hoping he would find a rainbow to make an Iris Message.

  "Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me, Annabeth Chase, at Camp Half-Blood." Lucas tossed a drachma into the rainbow in front of him.

  Immediately, Annabeth's image appeared in the rainbow, along with her surroundings. She was sitting on her bed, reading a book (most likely architecture), in the Athena Cabin. Cabin #6.

  Lucas waited, trying to see how long it would take for Annabeth to notice him. Not long. After two minutes, Lucas gave up on waiting.

  "Annabeth," Lucas said.

  Annabeth instinctively pulled out her knife and nearly disconnected the call. "You scared me!" she scolded him, once she had calmed down.

  "Sorry," Lucas apologized. "But, I've been standing here for the last two minutes."

   She raised her eyebrows. "Just for two? Wow. How's the quest going?"

  Great. It was bad enough that Lucas failed to convince Harry to not go looking for Philosopher's Stone. Now the whole camp knew that he was on a quest.

  "Fine," Lucas replied. In his opinion, it really wasn't, but he had managed to keep Harry alive for three months, which Lucas considered an achievement, with all these dangers lurking around Hogwarts.

  "What is the quest, anyway?" she asked.

  "It's a- well, I have to protect a mortal," Lucas explained. He figured as long as he didn't tell her about the Wizarding World, it'd be fine. Hecate had only told him not to tell anyone of his status. Which he broke in the first two weeks, but...

  "A mortal?" Annabeth looked genuinely surprised, which Lucas figured was a first.

  "Yeah. A mortal. Not to mention I have to go to this boarding school in Scotland that's shaped like a castle for some weird reason."

  Annabeth's jaw dropped. "A castle?" she shrieked. Lucas could practically feel her excitement.

  He shook his head. "It's not that great," he said. "It's freezing inside. Not to mention it's huge. There are seven floors, in total. I mean, it looks amazing, but there are some bad parts about it. They use quills. And candles. And parchment."

  Annabeth gaped at him. "No technology?"

  "Nope," Lucas replied. "I mean, I don't really care about the technology part, seeing as it's like sending up a flare to monsters, but why can't they have a heater?"

  Annabeth laughed. "You only have a sweater on," she pointed out.

  "I was doing laps," Lucas defended. The truth had cast a Hot Air charm on himself before sending her an Iris Message. That and he had been sparring with Firenze.

  "Well, I have to go," Annabeth said. "Archery's next."

  "Alright," Lucas replied. He swiped his hand through the Iris Message, disconnecting the call.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. At least, by demigod standards. After a dinner full of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifles and Christmas cake, Lucas didn't feel like doing much but reading up on transfiguration. It wasn't his best subject, so it was probably for the best that he took advantage of the empty (but Gryffindor themed) Common room to his advantage.

  Then he accidentally fell asleep, which wasn't nice at all. In different circumstances, Lucas might've enjoyed the sleep, but that would be with dreamless sleep. At least this was less eventful than usual.

  It was more like a movie. He was alone in a deserted corridor, but he could hear loud footsteps running down the corridor. Occasionally he would see a flap of fabric, showing small feet that clearly belonged to a first year. Lucas didn't know too much about magic artifacts, but if there was one, it would mean that someone was using an invisibility cloak.

  A door swung open (possibly opened by the person running) and Lucas entered through the door. Well, technically the dream forced him to enter, but he still entered the room.

  The room looked like an abandoned classroom. There were dark shapes of desks and seats stacked against the wall and an upsidedown wastebasket, but there was something set on the wall that was obviously something that didn't belong there.

  It was a grand mirror, with an ornate gold frame and clawed feet on the bottom. It had a message carved into the frame around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. I show not your face, but your heart's desire.

  Lucas watched the person become visible as the invisibility cloak slipped off, and Harry inched closer to the mirror.

  Lucas willed himself to go towards the mirror, and what he saw surprised him.

  He probably shouldn't have been surprised. It was called the Mirror of Erised. Written properly, it would be the Mirror of Desire. But he didn't expect this.

  It was their old house in Westport, Connecticut, back when he and Luke still lived with their mother. It was exactly as Lucas remembered it, with the weathered porch, the chipped paint and the hills surrounding it, with a few trees dotted around. The only difference was that there was a picnic table on one of the hills, with his mother's cooking.

  Lucas bit his lip. His mother's cooking wasn't the best- mostly consisted of burnt food, but sitting around the table, was himself, Luke, his mother, and his father, Hermes. For once, his mother didn't look like she was about to spew green smoke. He instantly knew that the mirror was showing him his greatest desire- for his family to be whole.

  "Mum? Dad?" Harry whispered.

  Lucas flinched. Too caught up in the mirror, he had forgotten that Harry was there. It was almost laughable. The idea that he, who was severely ADHD, therefore had stronger battle reflexes than the average demigod, being startled by a mortal, was almost laughable. 

  The next few minutes were torture. Lucas didn't know how long he had been watching, watching Harry stare at his reflection and whatever the mirror showed him. Part of it was because he couldn't move. Part of it was because absolutely nothing was happening. After a while, Harry muttered a quick "I'll come back," and left the room, which ended the dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Lucas tried to keep a close eye on Harry. He knew that the excitement from seeing his greatest desire would be too much for Harry to handle. Harry would go find the room again. Heck, Lucas would, too, if he knew where it was. 

  Lucas shook his head, clearing his head of his thoughts. He stole a glance at the Gryffindor table. Everything seemed normal. Ron was stuffing his face with food as usual, and Harry seemed to be engaged in conversation. Nothing suspicious yet. Except for the fact that Harry wasn't eating, of course.

  Lucas finished the last few mouthfuls of his meal, then left the Great Hall. He didn't think the Mirror of Erised would do anything to Harry. It wasn't like it was going to come alive and attack him.

  Lucas groaned as he entered the Slytherin Common room. "Oh Styx," he muttered. "I shouldn't have thought that. Number one rule: Don't ever assume you or someone else is safe, and never tempt the fates by thinking it."

  He sighed and plopped himself on one of the seats brooding. Only later did he realize that he never checked if Harry was still alive. Styx.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: The Tip

All in all, Lucas probably shouldn't have woken up his roommates in the cruellest way possible.

  Okay, so it wasn't exactly the cruellest way possible, but to a bunch of stuck up Slytherins who couldn't tell a prank apart even if it bounced on their heads and dyed their hair pink, it probably was. Not to Lucas, though. He had experienced much worse from the Stolls.

  It wasn't even that bad. At first, he considered pulling one of the Stolls' cruellest wake-up pranks but eventually decided against it. He didn't want to expose himself too early. Instead, he settled with a classic one- to wake up early and yell at the top of his lungs, telling them that they overslept and were late for class. The redecorating he had done during Christmas didn't help either. But, their disgruntled expressions were more than worth it.

  Then Blaise retaliated in typical Slytherin fashion- he attacked Neville. Well, Neville wasn't hurt, so technically didn't count as an attack, but Blaise had performed the Leg-Locker Curse.

  Lucas was with Blaise at the time, so after making sure nobody was looking, sent a jinx Blaise's way.

  "Cantis," Lucas muttered, flicking his wand.

  Lucas watched as Blaise started singing "It's Raining Men" at the top of his lungs, attracting some very strange looks.

  Lucas laughed. He knew Blaise didn't like to sing, much less sing a song as embarrassing as this. Even Neville was laughing, albeit nervously. Smart. Even if Lucas did get Blaise for his cowardly act, it didn't exactly prove that he was on Neville's side.

  Speaking of Neville, Lucas turned around and muttered the counter-curse, and Neville's legs sprang apart.

  "Th-thank you," he said shakily.

  "No problem," Lucas replied. "Why don't you go report him?"

  Neville shook his head jerkily.

  Lucas sighed. "He's used to stepping all over people, but that doesn't mean you should lie down and give up."

  "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Zabini's already done that," Neville choked out.

  "You're worth twelve of Blaise," Lucas told him reassuringly. "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, didn't it? It knows what it's doing." Lucas grinned. "Tell you what, I'll teach you to fight the muggle way. Who knows, you might become good at it."

  Neville was becoming more at ease with him. "Thanks," he said, "but I'll have to think about it."

  Lucas nodded. "Sure," he replied, smiling at him. "While you're considering it, can you pass on a message to Hermione?"

  "Sure," he replied.

  "Tell her that I've found out who Nicolas Flamel is, and that I'll meet her on the island in the middle of the Black Lake this Friday." Lucas had been trying to find Hermione ever since the holidays ended, to no avail. 

  Neville nodded, confused by Lucas's words, but he walked away to find Hermione.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Well?" Hermione asked impatiently.

  "What's gotten into you?" Lucas asked.

  "What do you mean, 'What's gotten into me'?" she asked.

  "I mean," Lucas replied grumpily, "that you seem different. I have been trying to find you ever since the holidays have ended, and I can't find you."

  Hermione sighed. "Sorry," she apologized. "I was just busy, I guess. Harry and Ron have been hanging out with me more often, not to mention the homework. It didn't cross my mind that you would've found something until Neville informed me. Speaking of which, since when did you two talk?"

  "Ever since Blaise performed the Leg-Locker Curse on him," Lucas muttered angrily, but Hermione heard him.

  "He did that?" she shrieked, eyes widening.

  "Yeah," Lucas replied moodily. "I offered to teach him Hand to Hand Combat," he added. "We've had three lessons, so far."

  "No disaster?" Hermione asked skeptically.

  "Of course there was," Lucas replied. "I can't imagine learning something without disaster. Everything has its risks. Besides, weren't we here to discuss Nicolas Flamel?"

  Hermione nodded. "Right."

  "Well, I asked Binns."

  Hermione stared at Lucas. "That was really risky!" she yelled. "What if Snape heard?"

  Lucas scoffed. "Please. I doubt anyone, much less Snape, would want to talk to Binns. Besides, I got what I needed. He was born in the year 1326 and attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He created the Philosopher's Stone and is currently the oldest wizard in history, at 665 years old."

  "The Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione asked. She was practically bouncing on her feet in excitement. "That must be what Fluffy's guarding!"

  Lucas nodded. "I thought so too," he replied, "but we can't be sure unless we break-in."

  "You sound rather excited of the idea of stealing whatever Fluffy's guarding," Hermione commented.

  "I am!" Lucas said. "I love breaking rules! It's exciting!"

  Hermione groaned. "Now I know why the twins love you so much."

  Lucas grinned. "Anything else you need to tell me? I mean, besides the fact that Snape's refereeing?"

  Hermione looked at him, shocked. "How did you know that?"

  "He's my head of house," Lucas deadpanned. "Besides, Fred and George are Beaters on the team."

  "Well, I was thinking of learning the Leg-Locker Curse and performing it on Snape if he tries to jinx Harry's broom again."

  "Or Quirrell," Lucas reminded her. "I'm all for it. I'm pretty sure I've mastered the Cushioning Charm, so you can take care of Snape and Quirrell and I'll make sure Harry's still alive if he falls."

  Hermione nodded, determined. Hopefully, this match wouldn't be Harry's last.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the match drew closer, Lucas found him becoming more anxious, like the first match. The only difference was that he actually had a valid reason. In the first match, he was nervous because he thought Harry would fall off his broom and die, which was completely stupid. Now he was nervous because either Snape or Quirrell had jinxed Harry's broom during the first match. Just because Harry didn't die during the first match didn't mean that he wouldn't now.

  "And, there goes my daily happy thought for the day," Lucas muttered as he helped Fred and George with their latest product, Fever Fudges.

  "What do you mean by that?" George questioned.

  "Just thinking about the chances Harry'll die tomorrow," Lucas replied glumly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next afternoon, on the day of the match, Lucas was seriously contemplating if anything major would happen. Dumbledore was here, after all. No one would dare to do anything in Dumbledore's presence. Maybe. Lucas couldn't count on that.

  So here he was, bringing his wand to the match and standing beside Neville, wearing muggle attire. He was soon joined by Hermione and Ron, both of which had also brought their wands.

  "Remember, it's Locomotor Mortis," Lucas heard Hermione whisper to Ron.

  "I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

  Lucas frowned. That wasn't very nice.

  Lucas noticed that Snape looked furious, something that Ron also caught on. 

  "I've never seen Snape look so mean," he noted. "Look- they're off. Ouch!" 

  Someone had poked Ron on the back of his head. It was Blaise.

  "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

  Blaise grinned at his new acquaintances, Crabbe and Goyle.

  "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Does anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

  Ron didn't answer. Snape had just awarded a penalty to Hufflepuff because George had sent a Bludger his way. Lucas bit his tongue to not say something scathing to Blaise, while Hermione was staring squintingly at Harry, who was circling the pitch like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

  "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Blaise asked loudly a few minutes later after Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for absolutely no reason. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brain."

  "You know how I think they choose people for the Slytherin team?" Lucas intervened, sparing Neville from replying. "It's people that are special."

  Blaise turned to him. "What makes you say that?" he asked pleased. He had obviously interpreted it as a compliment.

  Lucas grinned. "Well," he began, "See, there's Flint, who's got troll blood, and then there's Bole and Derrick, who've got brains, albeit with an IQ of two."

  Blaise sneered. "Sticking up for Gryffindors, now, are you? What a disgrace."

  Lucas smiled broadly, "Why, thank you!" he told him. He had learned long ago that the easiest way to pretend to be fine when he was hurting from snide comments was to compliment them and say thank you.

  He grinned at Blaise's face of disbelief, turning his attention back to the game.

  "Ron!" Hermione suddenly called out, sparing Blaise from being attacked by Ron, whose nerves were already stretched to breaking point out of anxiety for Harry's life. "Harry-!"

  "What? Where?" Ron yelled.

  Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, which got gasps and cheers from the crowd; Hermione stood up, fingers crossed as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.

  "You're lucky, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Blaise said.

  Ron snapped. In a blink of an eye, he was on Blaise, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the seats, helping Ron.

  Lucas turned his head. Trusting that Harry wasn't in any danger and that Hermione could handle the situation if Harry was, he vaulted himself over the seats, taking on Crabbe. 

  Lucas ducked as Crabbe threw the first punch. True, Crabbe was much bigger than him, but Lucas had the skill and speed. He shot forward quickly, sending a blow to Crabbe's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. They fought for a while, Crabbe getting more irritated that he couldn't hit him. Lucas focused completely on the scuffle, not even hearing Hermione's cheer of "Come on, Harry!" 

  The game ended just as Lucas landed a blow to Crabbe's neck, knocking him out. The stands erupted. It had to be a record, Lucas was sure no one had ever caught the Snitch this fast before.

  Hermione was thrilled. Lucas could practically feel her happiness coming off in waves. "Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" she shrieked, dancing up and down with joy, hugging Parvati Patil in the front row.

  Lucas followed the Gryffindors onto the pitch, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape land on the ground, his face white and his lips tight. Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and said something quietly to Harry.

  Meanwhile, Snape spat bitterly on the ground nearby, and Lucas suppressed the urge to laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Lucas and Hermione met on the island in the middle of the Black Lake. They had dubbed it their meeting place. Well, Hermione had dubbed it their meeting place. Lucas called it the Ping Pong Island.

  "What is it?" Lucas asked Hermione, concerned. She had "accidentally" bumped into him in the hall, efficiently slipping him a note and vanished into the crowd. "Your note didn't say much, just to meet you here- our meeting place."

  Hermione took a deep breath and told him about the conversation between Snape and Quirrell that Harry had witnessed.

  Lucas stared at her. "So it is the Philosopher's Stone," he said. "But, that conversation doesn't make sense at all."

  "What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

  "This conversation would indicate that Snape is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but it doesn't click," Lucas explained. "But I think Quirrell might be innocent."

  Hermione frowned. "Maybe," she replied. "I just hope the Stone isn't gone by next week."

  "You and me both," Lucas said dully. He hated his life.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: The Norwegian Ridgeback

Things seemed to be going well since Hogwarts obviously hadn't fallen apart. Which Lucas assumed it would once the Stone was stolen. It wasn't that he was such a killjoy, he was just preparing for the worst. How else would he have survived all these years?

  By now Lucas was willing to look past his fear of Divination, even hoping to get something to tell him what was to come. He was that desperate. What if Snape or Quirrell waited until the Summer to steal the Stone? No student was allowed to stay at Hogwarts during the Summer, and Lucas had no excuse to stay. To everyone else, he was Draco Malfoy, the pampered Pure-Blood. What would he say to Dumbledore? "Sorry to bother you, but I think either Quirrell or Snape is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. Can I stay for the Summer?" That sounded ridiculous. He wasn't even supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone.

  Meanwhile, Hermione had taken to taking notes in class to study for the upcoming exams. Lately, their meeting place had become the Library, where they discussed Snape and Quirrell's movements and studied for the exams.

  "You take studying very seriously," he noted.

  "Of course I do!" she snapped. "You do realize that we have to pass to get into our second year, don't you? I don't suppose you fancy being the only first-year that's twelve? Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into me, I should've started studying ages ago..."

  "Calm down!" Lucas replied. "Of course I know, I'm just trying to lighten things up a bit."

  The professors seemed to be in the same mindset as Hermione. As they say, "Great minds think alike." They piled so much homework that the Easter holidays weren't as fun or relaxing as the Christmas ones. Not that Lucas minded. Years of hanging out with Annabeth made studying something he would do without question. It was also a good way to keep his mind off things, such as the fate of the Wizarding World. Lucas spent so much time in the Library that he barely slept, and he had to convince Snape to teach him how to make a Wideye Potion.

  One sunny afternoon, Lucas was sitting at a table near Harry, Ron and Hermione in the Library. Maybe he was being selfish, but he liked studying with Hermione. Unlike the Slytherins, she was actually smart, and he didn't feel like he was explaining things to a bunch of babies. Okay, so, not all Slytherins were like that. Daphne Greengrass was fine, as well as Pansy Parkinson. Theodore Nott was fine too. But, like the rest of the Slytherins, they were incredibly biased against Muggle-Borns. And thick-headed.

  "I don't get why you follow Harry Potter around so much," Theo complained. "I mean, I get you're very popular among Gryffindors, but Potter and Weasley don't even like you. Why bother?"

  "Because Hermione's their friend," Lucas told him irritatedly, not looking up from his Transfiguration essay. "You-Know-Who tried to kill Potter when he was one. Who knows what trouble he might attract this year? I'm simply looking out for a friend."

  "You sure?" Theo teased.

  Catching on, Lucas slapped his arm lightly, finally looking up. "Eleven's a bit too young to start fancying someone, don't you think?" He paused. "Of course, you wouldn't think so, would you? Maybe if you stopped staring at Pansy and actually went up and talked to her, you might find yourself going out with her a few years into the future."

  Theo turned red. "I don't fancy her!" he whisper-shouted.

  "Whatever," Lucas replied, returning to his essay. "I'm introducing you two soon. Maybe we can have a ball a few years later and you can ask her out," he joked.

  Theo opened his mouth to argue, but Lucas heard none of it- he was listening to the trio's conversation with Hagrid.

  "Hagrid!" Ron greeted him. "What are you doing in the Library?"

  "Jus' lookin'," Hagrid replied in an innocent voice that fooled nobody. He shuffled into view, holding something behind his back. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He suddenly looked suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

  "Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron replied. "And, we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St-"

 "Shhhh!" Hagrid whispered, looking around to see if anyone had heard. Lucas immediately looked down and pretended to be writing his essay. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

  "There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," Harry interjected, "about what's guarding the Stone asides against Fluffy-"

  "SHHHH!" Hagrid said again. "Listen, come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed to ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

  "See you later, then," Harry said.

  Hagrid shuffled off nervously.

  "What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione wondered thoughtfully.

  "Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

  Lucas looked at Theo triumphantly. "Told you," he whispered.

  "What?"

  "I told you!" he hissed. "He's a trouble magnet."

  Theo looked at him suspiciously. "How did you know about this, anyway?"

  Lucas sighed. "Theo, I'm friends with Hermione, who just so happens to be friends with Potter and Weasley."

  They both flinched as Ron slammed a pile of books onto the trio's table. 

  "Dragons!" Ron whispered furiously. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

  "Hagrid's always wanted a dragon," Harry said absentmindedly, "he told me the first time I ever met him."

  "But it's against our laws," Ron said, aghast. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden- anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

  "But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" Harry asked.

  Lucas snorted. Why wouldn't there be? Britain seemed like the perfect habitat for dragons: mountainous and chilly. Was it really that surprising?

  "Of course there are," Ron replied. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Black. The Ministry of Magic has a job shushing them up, I can tell you. Our lot has to keep putting spells on Muggles who have spotted them, to make them forget."

  Lucas turned back to his essay, tuning them out. What on earth was Hagrid doing? Surely he wasn't trying to raise a dragon?

  He rolled his eyes in exasperation. With his luck, Hagrid probably was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"He's mental!" Hermione said furiously.

  "Back up," Lucas said. "Who's mental?"

  "Hagrid!" she replied. "He- he-"

  "He has a dragon," Lucas guessed.

  Hermione stared at him. "You were in the Library." It wasn't a question.

  "Yes. I was studying with Theo."

  "Theodore Nott?"

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yes. How many other Theodores do you know?"

  Hermione laughed. "You just can't stop making friends, can you?"

  Lucas grinned. "I'm sure the Sorting Hat would've put me in Hufflepuff if it didn't pick up on my desire to not get a Howler. You know, those red letters that scream their message and burn up?"

  Hermione nodded. "I've read about those. They sound nasty."

  "Ever the bookworm," he teased. "So, what breed is the dragon?"

  "A Norwegian Ridgeback. Draco, Hagrid's lost his mind."

  "Anyone who tries to raise a dragon's lost his mind!" Lucas burst out angrily. "He lives in a wooden house! All it takes is one sneeze from the dragon to take his hut down! Where'd he get it anyway?"

  "He said he won it from a stranger in a pub while playing cards," Hermione said.

  "He's crazy," he decided. "Absolutely insane. Did you find out who else is guarding the Stone, asides from Fluffy?"

  Hermione nodded. "There's Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape. Dumbledore did something, too."

  "Okay, so assuming you three are going to try and face off either Quirrell or Snape when either of them steals the Stone, you need to be prepared," Lucas decided.

  "Are you always this paranoid?" Hermione asked.

  "I have a friend who loves planning," he told her. "Needless to say, she has successfully corrupted me."

  "Obviously," Hermione replied. 

  "I think the professors would have something in their area of expertise," Lucas reasoned. "So... Sprout would be Herbology, Flitwick; Charms, McGonagall; Transfiguration, Quirrell; Defence Against the Dark Arts and Snape; Potions."

  "There's also Dumbledore," Hermione pointed out.

  "Yes, but..." He hesitated. "Dumbledore's more of a wild card. He's like, the greatest wizard alive. Not to mention he taught both Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts before he became Headmaster."

  Her eyes widened. "Really?"

  "He taught Defence Against the Dark Arts during the time Newt Scamander attended Hogwarts and taught Transfiguration during the time Tom Riddle attended Hogwarts," Lucas confirmed.

  "I would've given anything to have gone to Hogwarts back then," Hermione said. "To be taught by Dumbledore? That would have been the best!"

  "Agreed."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So by this point, Lucas was very stressed. He had to protect Harry from being killed, with the added pressure of classes. Now, he had to worry about the Norwegian Ridgeback living in Hagrid's hut.

  "Pansy," Lucas addressed her as they were heading to Transfiguration one day.

  "Hmm?" she asked.

  "A few days ago, you mentioned you had a cousin who's a dragon keeper." He lowered his voice. "How quickly do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?"

  Pansy looked confused, but she still gave him an answer. "Give it a fortnight and it'll be the size of a small house. Why?"

  Lucas swore. "What the Hades?"

  She stared at him weirdly. "Since when do you have an American accent?"

  He decided to play dumb. "What?"

  "You swore with an American accent," she replied. "And that swear sounded Muggle."

  "You must have been hearing things," he insisted. "I don't have an American accent, and despite how friendly I am to Muggle-borns, I don't know how to swear with Muggle words."

  She shrugged. "Whatever."

  All of a sudden, they could hear the sound of Ron and Hermione arguing. Some parts Lucas wasn't able to discern, as their volume level would constantly change from loud to quiet, but he had a good idea based on the snippets of the argument that he had heard. The Norwegian Ridgeback was hatching, Ron wanted to see it, but Hermione refused to skive off Herbology.

  Pansy sighed as they entered the classroom. "Such a lovely day, ruined by such a temperamental couple."

  Lucas nearly choked on his saliva. "What?" he asked. "Pansy, they're too young to be a couple."

  "Oh, they will be," she responded. "You just wait."

  He opened his mouth to respond, but just then, McGonagall started the lesson. He closed his mouth and listened to McGonagall begin her lecture.

  In reality, he was only half-listening to McGonagall. Not that anyone noticed. Lucas was good at partially tuning out a lecture while acting like he was listening. It was especially helpful when he had to listen to a monster's monologue while devising a plan. Usually, it was Annabeth who came up with the plan, but Lucas wasn't completely helpless. He could very well devise a plan on the fly.

  When the sounded at the end of Transfiguration, he got up and quickly left the classroom, hoping to catch Blaise before he saw the dragon. Blaise had been listening to Ron and Hermione's argument, and Lucas was pretty sure that Blaise would go and try to see it. Most likely through the window. 

  Lucas followed Blaise, careful to stay out of sight. The relationship between Blaise and him had become increasingly strained over the school year. If he could stop Blaise, he would, but it wouldn't be wise for him to be seen. No sense in allowing Blaise to see him.

  He trudged down the hill towards Hagrid's hut swiftly, revelling in the exercise that it brought him. He hadn't had too much exercise during his time here. 

  By the time he had reached Hagrid's hut, Blaise was already peeking through the curtains that were drawn tight over the windows.

  "Of course he's already here," Lucas grumbled angrily as he stomped towards Blaise. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

  "Like you'd understand," Blaise sneered, turning around.

  "No, I think I understand just fine," he replied. "You are a big bullying prat who takes pleasure in tormenting people and making their lives miserable. I'm not a disgrace to Slytherin, you are. Being a Slytherin doesn't permit bullying."

  "What's done is done," Blaise pointed out. "I've seen the dragon and you can piss off, thank you very much." He pushed past Lucas and ran up the hill, towards the castle.

  "Well, that's one thing he's good at," Lucas commented. "Being a coward and not having the guts to actually confront me."

  "What are you doing here?" someone demanded.

  "Ron!" Hermione chastised as Lucas spun around. "Sorry, Draco, I don't know what's gotten into him-"

  "He's always been like this towards me," he replied nonchalantly. "You've never noticed? I even hinted at it."

  "You never-" She cut herself off. "You said they wouldn't take too kindly to you helping us find out who Flamel is, then left! How was that supposed to tell me that they hated your guts?"

  "You're talking to him?" Harry asked, evidently pissed.

  "Oh, please!" Hermione said. "It's only you two who don't like him! He's frankly quite nice and funny! Every professor likes him, he's friends with Fred and George, Neville, Lee Jordan, as well as me. And don't you dare say I'm fraternizing with the enemy Ron," she added at the look on Ron's face, "we've been friends since classes started."

  Ron looked like he was about to explode, but Harry steered him away before he could say anything scathing to Hermione.

  "At least he's more reasonable," Lucas muttered.

  "Why does Ron hate you so much?" Hermione blurted out.

  He raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?" he asked. "My father, of course. He was a Death Eater. But anyone with an ounce of logic in them would realize that I'm not my father. Something that your friend, fails to grasp."

  Hermione frowned. "Maybe I can knock some sense into him," she suggested.

  "You could try," Lucas agreed, "but you shouldn't waste your time on me. I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor. We aren't meant to be friends." There was a tone of bitterness in his voice.

  "Yet you've been tearing down the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor ever since you got sorted into Slytherin," she pointed out.

  "Fair enough."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

During the next week, something about Blaise seemed to give Lucas a feeling of dread. Maybe it was the smile on his face, maybe it was what he had said to him. He didn't know. There was just something that gave him a feeling of dread.

  During the time Lucas spent with Hagrid, he tried to convince him to let the dragon go.

  "Beats me how yeh even know," he replied gruffly.

  "Please." Lucas rolled his eyes. "Blaise saw him. He was even gloating about it. Give it a fortnight and Norbert'll be as big as your hut. Even if none of the professors find out, Blaise could go to Dumbledore at any time."

  "Yeh know, that's exactly what Harry said," Hagrid commented.

  "Don't try to change the topic, it's not going to work," Lucas said sharply. "I'm not asking you to set it into the wild, I know he'll die." He paused as a thought came to him. "I might be able to call in a favour with some friends."

  "Alright," Hagrid agreed. "Jus' give me an answer when yeh've made contact wi' them."

  The "friends" in question were the Hunters of Artemis. He wasn't on the best terms with them, but Artemis was the best option as of now. She was the Goddess of the Wild, so sending Norbert to her was his best shot.

  But first, he had to send an Iris Message to Hecate. He wasn't sure if the Hunters of Artemis knew about the Wizarding World, but he was about 90% sure that they knew. Artemis wasn't picky when it came to allowing people into the Hunt. Her only requirements were that they were female and that they swore to celibacy.

  "Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Hecate, Goddess of the Mist."

  Hecate slowly appeared, as well as her surroundings. 

  "Lucas," she greeted him. "To what do I owe this Iris Message?"

  "Lady Hecate." Lucas found that being respectful often came a long way with gods. "You know the gamekeeper, Hagrid?"

  "Yes," she replied.

  He sighed. "He has a dragon," he explained. "A Norwegian Ridgeback, to be exact."

  "Where'd he get it?" Hecate inquired.

  "According to Hermione? He won it off a stranger in a pub. They were playing cards. And it's times like this that make me wonder if the mortal adults are as responsible as they say they are."

  Hecate nodded. "You want me to do something about the dragon?"

  "Can Artemis take it?" Lucas asked. He decided not to sugarcoat it. "I mean, she's allowed, right? No Ancient Laws are forbidding it?"

  "No Ancient Laws are forbidding it," she replied, "but whether she wants to take it or not, is an entirely different story."

  "Can you ask her?" he requested.

  "Ναι. I can," she confirmed. "I'll owl you when I've got an answer."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The following week dragged by impossibly slow. Lucas had never been good at patience, even when he was waiting for a letter from a goddess. On Wednesday night, had anyone came down to the Slytherin common room, they would've found Lucas sitting in one of the seats near the fire, long after everyone had gone to bed. It had just turned midnight when a letter manifested on a nearby table.

  He unfolded the sheet of parchment to read the note.

Dear Lucas,

How are you doing? I hope nothing too serious has happened yet. Artemis says she'll take the dragon, but unfortunately, Apollo's got into a bit of trouble with Zeus and she needs to reason with him.

  Can you take the dragon to the edge of the Forbidden Forest at midnight on Saturday? There'll be a huntress waiting for you there.

Sincerely,
Hecate

  Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. That was that. He would have to borrow the Mauraders' Map, and he'd have to rely on his ability to sneak around. Anything to get rid of Norbert.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days made Lucas very nervous. He couldn't help but doubt the plan. What if Blaise found out? What if a professor caught him? What if Filch caught him? In the end, it got to the point where he had to go to the Hospital Wing to get a Calming Draught.

  Things took a worse turn when he found Blaise, of all people, in the Hospital Wing gloating over Ron.

  "What are you doing here?" Blaise asked.

  "I need a Calming Draught," Lucas replied. "I think the upcoming exams are getting to me."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By Thursday night, Lucas was absolutely freaking out. There was no denying it. The plan was as good as it could be, but the doubts were still there.

  He found Fang, Hagrid's boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail when he went in to talk to Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to him.

  "I won't let you in," he panted. "Norbert's at a tricky stage- nothin' I can't handle."

  When Lucas informed him about his success, his eyes watered, or maybe it was because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

  "Aargh! It's alright, he only got my boot- jus' playin'- he's only a baby, after all."

  Norbert banged his tail on the wall, making the windows rattle, and Lucas headed back to the castle, feeling as though Saturday couldn't possibly come faster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He would've felt sorry for Hagrid, come Saturday night, had he not been too busy fretting. It was a very dark, cloudy night. Lucas had been a tad bit late coming to Hagrid's Hut because Peeves was playing tennis in the Entrance Hall, and Lucas didn't feel like convincing Peeves not to tell anyone where he'd gone.

  Norbert was packed and ready in a large crate.

  "He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid explained in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

  From inside the crate, a ripping noise sounded through the air. It sounded as though teddy had just gotten its head violently ripped off.

  "Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid wailed, as Lucas lifted the crate with a grunt. "Mummy will never forget you!"

  How he managed to get to the Forest, he would never know. The rough edge dug into his fingers and palms; sweat made his grip slide. Midnight slipped closer as he got to the edge of the Forest.

  "Almost there," he told himself.

  At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a huntress was waiting for him. It would've been impossible to miss her. She was clad in a silver parka, camo pants and black combat boots. Her brown hair was tied into a braid and she had a quiver and bow slung over her back.

  "Right," she said. "The dragon's in there?"

  "Yep," Lucas replied.

  She stuck out her hand. "Forgot to introduce myself. Layla Lupin."

  Lucas set the crate on the ground on shook her hand. "Lucas Castellan. How are you getting it to Artemis?"

  "I'll apparate," she replied. "I may have left in the middle of my sixth year at Hogwarts, but I've had plenty of time to catch up."

  "Alright. A quick warning- he's a bit violent."

  Layla laughed. "Judging from the sound it's making and your description of violent, it's a girl."

  "Are the females more violent, or something?" Lucas asked.

  "Yep." She started bouncing up and down. "I'm going to try and convince Lady Artemis to let me keep her. I just love animals! What name did this Hagrid give her?"

  "Norbert," he replied. "But I suppose you'll have to rename her. I mean, Norbert's a male name."

  "I'll name her Norberta," Layla decided. "A beautiful name for a beautiful dragon."

  Lucas made a choking noise, and she gave him a look.

  "Oi, shut it!" she demanded. "You just don't understand the beauty of dragons! They're beautiful!"

  Lucas opened his mouth. "Maybe an-" The sound of a heavy creature hitting the ground was heard, and a weak neigh echoed through the air.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: The Slaying of an Innocent Creature

"Come on," Layla told Lucas. She produced a silvery camouflage tarp out of nowhere and she covered the crate with it. She unsheathed a silver hunting knife. "Take out your wand," she ordered. "Celestial Bronze weapons will draw attention."

  Lucas nodded and drew his wand. Quirrell's class had been absolute rubbish so far, but the tip of his wand was sharp. He could easily take out someone's eye with it if he wanted to.

  They headed into the forest to where the crash had occurred, trying to stay silent and get there quickly at the same time. Layla was much more successful- leaping gracefully over tree roots and dodging tree branches. It suddenly occurred to Lucas that Layla could see in the dark.

  After a while, Lucas's breath started coming in short pants. He had a feeling that something terrible had happened.

  He nearly crashed into Layla when she stopped, and he could immediately see why she had stopped. There, laying on the ground in front of them, was a unicorn corpse: it glowed bright white, with its legs stuck out at odd angles and its pearly white mane was spread on the dark leaves.

  But that wasn't the worst part. A dark, hooded figure was hunched over the body, drinking blood from a wound on the unicorn's side. It was disgusting, yet fascinating at the same time. Lucas stared at the figure in horror while Layla made a sobbing sound.

  The hooded figure heard her. It raised its head and looked straight at them, unicorn blood dripping from its mouth. And... it bolted.

  For a second there, Lucas just stared in shock. He could barely believe his eyes. 

  He turned to Layla. "Is it just me, or did that thing just run away?"

  "You saw correctly," she replied. "But... who would do such a thing? To slay a unicorn? It's just-" she choked on her words. "-cruel. But the motive?"

  Lucas quickly glanced around and headed towards the body, inspecting the body. "Maybe the blood?" he suggested. "The hooded figure was drinking its blood. What properties does unicorn blood have?"

  "I honestly don't know," Layla admitted. "I've never read of unicorn blood being anything special. I mean, I know Re'em blood gives the drinker superhuman strength for a while, but I don't know anything about unicorn blood. I always assumed that it was just blood, nothing special."

  There was the sound of something galloping towards them.

  "I don't suppose they teach that to you at Hogwarts, do they?" someone asked softly.

  Lucas turned around. "Firenze," he greeted him.

  Layla looked at them questioningly.

  "I met him at around Christmas," he explained. "He's nice, though I can't compare him to Chiron."

  Firenze nodded. "Certainly not," he agreed. "Chiron is... extraordinary. And he's much older."

  "From around the time, the Titans ruled," Layla informed them. "That's a long time. At least two millennia. So, unicorn blood?"

  "Right," Firenze said. "You've never heard of unicorn blood having magical properties, or used it in potions because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn. Only someone with nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would do such a horrid thing. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you're an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenceless to keep you alive and you will have a half-life, a cursed life from the moment the blood touches your lips."

  "But isn't death better?" Lucas asked. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death seems like a luxury, doesn't it?"

  "Unless you have something to counter the curse," Layla realized. "Bloody hell! What could counter it?"

  "The Elixer of Life?" Lucas suggested, looking at Firenze.

  "It would," Firenze agreed. "And it would be the most logical choice, as the Philosopher's Stone resides within Hogwarts. And can you guess, who has desperately clung to life, trying to become immortal?"

  Lucas gulped. He didn't want to believe it, but there was only one person who filled all those requirements. As the wind rustled the leaves, he could almost hear Hecate's voice: "Riddle's body was destroyed, but his soul is still out there, and he will want to kill Harry."

  "The Dark Lord," Lucas realized.

  "Who?" Layla asked.

  He stared at her. "Don't tell me you've never heard of him. You-Know-Who? Also known as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Has-Too-Many-Names?"

  She snorted. "My gods," she said. "I forgot who he was. It must be the age."

  Lucas snorted. "I doubt it. You must be out of touch with the Wizarding World."

  She looked thoroughly offended. "Stop it! Sorry Firenze," she told him, "if it seems like we're ignoring you."

  "No problem," Firenze replied. "I could give you a ride back to the castle."

  "Oh, no, thank you," Layla said. "It's fine. Besides, aren't the herd here very against letting humans ride on your species?"

  "Yes," he replied. "I'll be leaving now." He galloped away in a cloud of dust.

  "So..." Lucas shifted on his feet. "We should probably be heading back."

  "Yes, I should think so." Layla grinned. "I'm sure Norberta's very bored by now."

  "We should've brought her with us," he muttered as they headed back. "She probably could've blowtorched that person for us."

  "Then he or she would be dead," Layla pointed out.

  "At least we would've known who they were," Lucas retorted.

  She sighed. "True. Can't argue with that. Do you have any idea about who the person was?"

  "I have my suspicions," he told her. "Two candidates who're fishy. Snape and Quirrell."

  Layla stared at him. "I don't know this Quirrell you're talking about, but Snape? You don't mean Severus Snape, do you?"

  "I do," he replied. "Do you know him?"

  "Gods of Olympus, yes," she said. "We went to Hogwarts around the same time. But he was a year older than me- in my brother's year."

  "Was he always that greasy?" he wondered out loud.

  "Unfortunately, yes." She flipped her braid over her shoulder. "He looked better as a child, though. I suppose he's one of those people who look worse as they age. I can't believe he thought he had a chance with Lily. I read the Daily Prophet," she informed him, seeing his questioning look.

  Lucas shook his head. "I should've guessed." He paused, Layla's words registering in his head. "Wait. Lily? Do you mean Lily Potter? Née Evans? Harry Potter's mom?"

  "Yep." Layla looked positively delighted at the mention of her. "She was always nice to me, even after she found out Remus was-" She cut herself off, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "I mean, she was a great friend. I spent an entire month raging after I found out she had died. Zoe had to talk some sense into me."

  "Zoe... the lieutenant?" he asked.

  "That's the one." She lept over a tree branch as Hogwarts came into view. "Ahh, there's the edge! I thought we'd never arrive."

  He laughed. "I like your sense of humour." He brushed his hand on the silvery cloth covering the crate were Norberta resided. "For your sake, I hope Norberta behaves. I wouldn't want the only Hunter of Artemis who's friendly with me to have her death by a dragon."

  She shook her head, her green eyes flashing with amusement. She played with an arrow for a bit before sliding it back into her quiver.

  "She tries to kill me, I'll have her pinned before long," she promised him. "Don't worry. I won't die from something as silly as a baby dragon."

  "A female baby dragon," he reminded her. As if to prove his point, Norberta slammed her head against the crate.

  Layla eyed the crate nervously.

  "I'm starting to reconsider apparating," she announced. "I might splinch her."

  "Splinch?" Lucas asked.

  "Leave some part of myself or her behind," she clarified. "And by how restless she is, we're going to splinch if I apparate us back to the States."

  He nodded. "That makes-"

  "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try!" she interrupted, bouncing on her toes. She pulled out her wand. "You should go back before anyone realizes you're gone. It's one in the morning, you know."

  "Alright," Lucas agreed. "Wouldn't want to get a detention. Stay safe."

  Layla smiled slyly. "Oh, I will," she promised.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where were you?" Blaise asked him as he entered the Slytherin common room. Lucas had tried to evade Blaise the entire day, to no avail. Blaise always seemed to find him whenever he was in the Dungeons.

  "What do you mean?" Lucas asked him innocently.

  "I'm not stupid, you know," he snarled. 

  Lucas looked at him in mock surprise. "Really?" he asked. "That's news to me."

  By now everyone was watching them. It was no secret in Slytherin that Blaise and Lucas hated each other's guts. Some would say that their fights were exciting, entertaining, even. There also tended to be cheering, which usually prompted Lucas to bring it to another level, regardless of who was cheering for who.

  Daphne decided to join in. "I don't get it, either," she said cheerfully. "He's been in Hogwarts the entire time."

  Lucas smirked at Blaise's red face, and Theo, along with Pansy, chortled.

  "Losing a couple of brain cells, are you now?" Lucas said in a sing-song voice. "Think everyone will still like you after they see how much of an idiot you are? Though, I suppose, your looks'll save you. After all, you can't afford to be smart if you're concentrating on your looks all the time. Guess we now all know who the Evil Queen was reborn as."

  Most of the Slytherins looked confused, but some of the Half-Bloods, including Daphne, burst into laughter. Lucas shut the book he was reading and left the common room, followed shortly after by Daphne.

  "Merlin's beard," she said, choking on laughter once they had gotten outside of the castle. "The Evil Queen? Best comparison ever!"

  "It is, isn't it?" he agreed. "They're both incredibly vain and cunning."

  "Let's not forget that you covertly called him a girl," she said.

  "Anyone who spends that much time on looks is a girl," he declared. "Er, no offence."

  "None taken." She tied her blonde hair up in a ponytail. "Someone has to put him in his place. I'm just glad it's you. Nobody can compare to you when it comes to a duel with words."

  Lucas snorted. He didn't know where his cheekiness came from. It just came. "Well, I'm glad someone appreciates it."

  "And I do," she agreed. "Wholeheartedly. It makes you fun to be around with."

  "I think Fred and George are rubbing off me," Lucas said.

  "I hope not," she said, shuddering. "I don't want to imagine the amount of trouble you could stir up."

  "I already stir up enough trouble without them," he said, grinning broadly. "Who do you think gave our common room a makeover?"

  She stared at him in horror. "That was you?" she shrieked.

  "Yep. You know what? I need to go to the library."

  He left her, soon finding himself in front of the entrance to the library. Firenze hadn't disclosed too much on unicorn blood, and Lucas intended to find out more, and the library was the best place.

  Once he entered, he went straight to Madam Pince. Unicorn blood wasn't a particularly cheery topic, but seeing as he had no idea where to start, asking her would speed up the process significantly.

  "Er, Madam Pince?" he asked her tentatively.

  "Yes?" She gave him a stern look, silently warning him to not disrespect any of the library's books.

  "Er, I was just wondering if there were any books in here that explain the properties of unicorn blood." He tried to keep calm. If Madam Pince thought this was suspicious, he wouldn't last a chance. "I heard someone mention it," he explained, "and I wanted to know more about it."

  "In that case, you would have to check out the Restricted Section," she said, looking at him suspiciously. "More specifically, Moste Potente Potions. It gives an overview of the nastier potion ingredients, as well as how to make those nastier potions. However, to access the Restricted Section, you will need a signed note from a professor, something you don't have."

  Lucas sighed. "Alright," he said. "Thank you for your help."

  Madam Pince stared at him strangely. She looked like she was thinking something over.

  "I'll allow you to read it," she said slowly, "but you are not to read anything else but the part on unicorn blood, and you will read it here, under my watch."

  Lucas immediately brightened. "Thank you," he told her sincerely.

  She nodded and bustled over to the Restricted Section, plucking the book from the shelf and handing it to him.

  "Page twelve," she informed him.

  He nodded and headed to a nearby table, sitting down and flipping the book open to page twelve. There, at the top, were the words "Unicorn Blood" written in fancy print. Below it was an explanation and on page thirteen, there was a gruesome picture of a slain unicorn, with its blood pouring down its side at an alarming rate.

  "I can see why it's in the Restricted Section," he muttered. Returning his attention to the passage, he began to read.

The use of unicorn blood is a very inhumane thing to do, as to gather a unicorn's blood, the slaying of a unicorn is required. It is only used by the most desperate, the ones that have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Only one potion in existence requires unicorn blood.

  Unicorn blood, when used, has very severe consequences. The slaying of a unicorn alone will render you weak for a few days, giving you a pale complexion and lowering your immune system. Drinking unicorn blood creates even worse consequences.

  From the moment the blood touches your lips, a curse is activated. It is considered the most dangerous and ruthless curse to ever exist. It will save you even if you're an inch from death, but with a terrible consequence. You will have a cursed life, a half-life from the moment the blood goes into your mouth. It will not only affect you, but it will affect your descendants as it is a blood malediction, often striking when you least expect it. Eventually, those cursed will meet their end in a rather gruesome way.

  Lucas shut the book and made his way to the Restricted Section, placing the book back on the shelf. There was more, but he had enough information for a lifetime. He didn't want to imagine what kind of gruesome death that those cursed could meet.

  "At least there's a guaranteed chance that the Dark Lord'll die," he told himself. "I just don't know when. Hopefully by the end of this year."

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Gryffindor Victory

The next few weeks flew by very quickly. Lucas would never remember how he had managed to stumble through the exams when he was half expecting the professor to turn into a monster, like what had happened at his last school. He could scarcely believe that he had managed to go by the entire school year without blowing up the school or getting expelled (usually they were tied to one another).

  The temperature was scorching hot, especially in the large classroom where their written exams took place. For the exams, they had been given new quills that were charmed with an Anti-Cheating spell.

  They had practical exams, as well. Lucas supposed that to learn magic, one couldn't just rely on theory. Flitwick called them into the classroom one by one to try and see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across his desk. McGonagall's exam, however, was for them to turn a mouse into a snuffbox- points were given for how pretty and detailed the snuffbox was, while points were taken if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they wracked their brain to try and remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

  Lucas tried to do his best, but the truth was, he was very nervous. Not about the exams, but Harry. Lately, his dreams had been shedding light on what would happen under the trapdoor in the third corridor, which Lucas hadn't asked for. It was very annoying and made Lucas extremely tired.

  Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of writing down answers about batty old wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons and they could relax, at least until a week later, when their exam results came out.

  "History of Magic is literally the most boring subject to ever exist," Theo complained.

  Lucas nodded in agreement. "Who flipping cares about who invented what? I mean, if a different professor was teaching History of Magic, it might be more entertaining. Binns just reads off his notes. I learned more from 'A History of Magic' than I did from him."

  "That actually works?" Pansy asked.

  "Yep," he replied. "Binns always tells us what we're learning each class. All I have to do is to jot down the topic and read up."

  "If I remember correctly, you're ADHD," Daphne said. "I'm surprised you haven't walked out yet."

  "I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind," he agreed. "Why hasn't anyone replaced Binns?"

  Theo gave him a look. "You're the one whose father is the chairman of the Board of Governors!"

  "Well, I don't pay attention to those kinds of things!" Lucas shot back. The truth was that he had never interacted with the Malfoys yet, so he couldn't have possibly known that Lucius Malfoy was on the Board of Governors. Oh boy. He was not looking forward to meeting the Malfoys at all.

  They bickered all the way to, for some reason, the Quidditch Pitch, where Fred and George were dive-bombing each other on their brooms.

  Daphne laughed as George accidentally fell off his broom. "I can see why they're so likeable," she commented.

  "They can be unbearable at times," Lucas warned her. "And it's annoying when they try to convince you that George's Fred and Fred's George."

  Pansy shuddered. "I don't fancy having to deal with that."

  He shrugged. "They don't trick me," he said. "Besides, it is a bit funny."

  "Hi!" Fred and George had flown to the stands and hopped off their brooms.

  "So these are the lovely Slytherins who aren't like the rest of their house!" Fred exclaimed.

  "I think they need a gift!" George declared. He handed Theo a Puking Pastille.

  "Don't take it," Lucas advised him.

  Fred gasped. "Draco! I'm offended-"

  "-that you think-"

  "-we're trying-"

  "-to prank your friends," George finished.

  "I don't think that," Lucas said. "I know you're trying to prank them. There's a difference."

  Fred gasped once again and put a hand over his heart. "You wound me!"

  George nodded, pretending to wipe away a stray tear. "He's betrayed us," he said dramatically. "Ow!" he yelped. Lucas had just stepped on his foot.

  "What?" Lucas gave him an innocent expression.

  "You stepped on my foot!"

  Daphne laughed and was soon joined by the rest of them. Even George had joined in. Eventually, Theo ate the Puking Pastille (because, of course, he underestimated the twins), and Lucas had to force the other end of the chew into Theo's mouth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The end-of-year feast had gone with a surprising turn. Not that Lucas cared. In his opinion, it made for a fun end to the school year. The Great Hall was decked out in silver and green, to signify Slytherin's winning of the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. Behind the High Table, there was an enormous banner with a Slytherin serpent on it.

  When Harry entered the Great Hall, there was a collective hush and everyone started chatting audibly. Lucas could see that people throughout the hall were standing up to try and get a good look at him.

  Fortunately for him, Dumbledore soon came into the Great Hall, wearing his long robes and his half-moon spectacles, his pointy wizard's hat topped on his head. Everyone slowly quieted.

  "Another year gone!" he announced happily. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts...

  "Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

  Loud cheering erupted from around Lucas. Some Slytherins had jumped up and started stomping about and Blaise was banging his goblet on the table. Lucas simply clapped.

  "Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore congratulated them. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

  Everyone quieted down. The Slytherins' smiles faded a bit.

  "Ahem," he said. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes...

  "First- to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

  The cheers from Gryffindors nearly blew off the ceiling; the stars above them seemed to tremble. Percy could be heard telling the other Gryffindor prefects, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

  Eventually, the room quieted down again.

  "Second- to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

  Hermione buried her head in her arms; Lucas suspected that she had burst into tears and was furiously blushing. Gryffindors were ecstatic- Gryffindor was up by a hundred points.

  "Third- to Mr. Harry Potter..." The Great Hall was very quiet. "... For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

  The Gryffindor table exploded with sound. Those who could do the math while yelling themselves dry knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred seventy-two points- they were tied with Slytherin.

  Dumbledore held out his hand and the hall quieted once more.

  "There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore began, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

  If Lucas thought the cheering before was loud, it was nothing compared to this. If someone was standing outside the Great Hall, they might've thought that an explosion had taken place in the hall. Neville disappeared under a pile of people hugging him, white with shock. When he resurfaced, Lucas grinned at him and clapped loudly, happy for his friend. He knew Neville had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before. 

  "Which means," Dumbledore called out over the applause- even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the defeat of Slytherin; Lucas remained the only Slytherin to clap alongside them, "we need a little change of decoration."

  He clapped his hands. The green became scarlet and the silver became gold immediately; the huge Slytherin serpent disappeared and was replaced with a large, towering lion. Snape shook McGonagall's hand with a forced smile and Lucas could see Dumbledore clapping politely, looking at Neville with something that looked like admiration.

  This evening might've been horrible for the Slytherins, but not to Lucas. The House Cup didn't matter to Lucas. Besides, most of his friends were in Gryffindor. He was happy for them. Compared to his other memories, this might not've been the best evening in his life, but it was, without a doubt, one he would never forget.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas honestly forgot that they were still waiting for exam results. In his defence, he had other things on his mind. But they did come. Unsurprisingly, he passed with good marks- he suspected it was to do with the studying that Hermione forced him to do, as well as the late-night studying he did on his own. Nobody had failed, which was a relief to Lucas, but it was also a shame. He was glad his friends had passed, but he was secretly hoping that some of the Slytherins wouldn't. He wasn't one to judge on the house, but some of the Slytherins were a handful.

  Then, their wardrobes were empty, their trunks full, Lucas had found Willow in a corridor being friendly to Mrs. Norris, for some reason; notes were passed to each student, warning them to not perform magic over the summer. Hagrid was there to take them back over the Black Lake.

  "What're you going to do over the summer?" Lucas asked out of the blue. He suspected that his Slytherin friends weren't too happy about losing the House Cup.

  "I haven't really thought about it," Theo said. 

  "Mum's taking me to Cyprus," Daphne informed them. "It's in the Mediterranean. I invited Pansy."

  "That sounds nice," Lucas commented.

  "What are you going to do?" Pansy asked.

  "I'm going to the States," he replied. It was true, he was going to go to Camp Half-Blood and it was located in the States.

  "Interesting." Theo looked miserable. "Better than stuck at home, I suppose."

  "Exploding Snap, anyone?" Pansy asked suddenly. It seemed she had also picked up on Theo's unhappiness.

  "Sure!" Daphne exclaimed. She took out a pack of cards and shuffled them, then passing them around.

  They played for a bit, chatting and joking around; Lucas smiled. Yes, this was a great year. Harry was alive and he hadn't gotten expelled; most importantly, he had friends- friends who he knew he could count on, whether it was a joke or a secret.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Dobby

Lucas read the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. The note, which had been rolled up tightly when it arrived this morning, had now been read so many times, it had become completely flat. It had said:

Dear Lucas,

  How are you? Is your quest going well? I heard from Annabeth that you're at Hogwarts. How exciting! Of course, she didn't actually tell me the name, seeing as you didn't tell her, but it was kind of obvious. After all, there's only one school in Scotland that's a castle.

  How was your first year at Hogwarts? I hope you haven't been expelled yet. Although it would be incredibly hard to get yourself expelled. The castle is reinforced by magic so it stays up, not to mention the layers of wards surrounding the grounds.

  Guess what? I'm coming to Hogwarts! I just got my Acceptance Letter yesterday! Lady Hecate personally delivered it to me, actually. She said that I was joining you on the quest. It seems unlikely, but I'm hoping to get into Gryffindor. That way, I can keep an eye on Harry. If he decides to befriend me. Dad runs the Quibbler, which is utter rubbish. I mean, he's clear-sighted, but he's a tad bit insane. I'll probably get picked on.

  You should come to Camp soon. Annabeth misses you. As a matter of fact, I do, too. I think Luke does, as well, but he's been super cranky and secretive lately. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, anyway. But you know all about that, being his brother.

  See you soon!

  Luna

  To say that Lucas was surprised was an understatement. He was beyond surprised. When the realization that Luna was a witch had settled in, his surprise had turned into excitement and relief. He no longer had to do the quest by himself. Luna Lovegood, one of his friends, was coming to Hogwarts. When he first finished reading it, he had done a happy little dance that he most certainly wouldn't have done as Draco Malfoy and he would have only done it as Lucas Castellan if he was certain he was alone.

  There was a sudden crack, not unlike a whip, making Lucas drop the piece of parchment in shock.

  "Holy-"

  A little creature with large bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls had just appeared in front of him. It wore something that resembled a very dirty pillowcase, with holes for its arms and legs.

  Lucas took a deep breath, calming himself down.

  "Sorry." He felt mildly embarrassed. "You just scared me."

  "It is no problem, sir, none at all." The creature bowed down lowly, its long, pointy nose brushing the ground. His high pitched voice was much higher than any voice he had heard before. "Dobby has come to clean the room, sir. Dobby did not mean to startle you, sir."

  "It's fine." Lucas brushed off the apology. He shifted uncomfortably, deciding to pick up the letter. "I don't mean to be rude or to offend you, but what are you?"

  "Dobby is a house-elf, sir, bound to serve one house and one family forever."

  "And it's this family," he guessed. "The Malfoys."

  Dobby nodded, his large eyes staring at him unwaveringly. "Sir refers to his family as the Malfoys. Dobby wonders why. Dobby knows sir is a demigod but is sir not related to the Malfoys?"

  "No." Lucas figured it'd be best, to tell the truth. Dobby already knew that he was a demigod. What was the harm in revealing that he wasn't actually a Malfoy? "My name is Lucas Castellan. My mum was a Muggle-Born. I doubt there's any relation between the Castellans and the Malfoys."

  Dobby nodded. He walked over to Lucas's bed, going to make his bed.

  Lucas slid off the bed and placed the letter on the top of his dresser. "I'll just, er, get out of your way now."

  He walked out of his room, going down the stairs, deciding to go out to the grounds of Malfoy Manor to clear his head. 

  Unlike the manor itself, the landscape around the manor was much more lively and colourful. It was bordered by tall yew hedges and the landscape was filled with different types of trees and plants. Oak, birch, cherry, apple, chestnut; they were arranged in orderly rows. Rose bushes, peonies, aconite, daisies, lavender, daylilies, bleeding hearts, tulips, carnations, dahlias, chrysanthemums, marigolds and poppies were planted around the trees; in some areas, the flowers had been arranged to spell messages or simple pictures.

  "Draco!" Narcissa's voice rang in his ears. She had come up to him, in what was unmistakably a very good mood. She wore robes and gardening gloves. Her blond hair was carefully curled and tied up, so it wouldn't get in the way. "Do you want to help me? I'm planting Hydrangeas."

  Lucas brightened. "Sure!"

  He followed Narcissa down a path that led to a fat apple tree, pondering how Narcissa married someone like Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa was kind, compassionate and she admitted to not caring about blood purity. Lucius was arrogant, cruel and exceptionally Muggle-hating. He represented the worst of Slytherin, while Narcissa represented the better traits.

  In pots, there were hydrangeas in different shades of blue and purple. They were clearly waiting to be planted. One bush was already planted, its pastel blue petals contrasting against the rough, brown bark of the trunk behind it.

  "Let's start, shall we?" Narcissa suggested.

  Lucas nodded and they set to work. He noted the different variations of blue and purple. They fit in very well. Pastel blue, sky blue, cornflower, azure, blue, light blue, periwinkle, purple, lavender, orchid, violet, royal purple and wisteria.

  After a while, they were finished. Sweat was pouring down Lucas's back. The sun had moved directly above them, marking the time as noon. 

  "It looks beautiful." Lucas brushed his fingers on the periwinkle petal of one flower. "You're fantastic at gardening."

  "Thank you." Narcissa was panting. "Your father doesn't seem to hold the same adoration you do. He's always said that this is pointless."

  Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "Pointless? But aren't looks important? If the Minister of Magic came here to find the house in a complete mess, wouldn't that make him look bad?"

  "It would, but he expects a house-elf to do these types of things." She looked mildly upset. "But I'm used to it. He's traditional. My mother and father looked down at me for being interested in gardening. But not as much as Andromeda. They disowned her for marrying a Muggle-Born."

  "She's quite nice," Lucas commented. He had met her when Narcissa had dropped him off at her house because she and Lucius had to leave. Their house was much more cheerful and it had a Muggle style, courtesy of her husband, Ted Tonks, who was a Muggle-Born. He had enjoyed his time there and found their daughter, Nymphadora Tonks's company enjoyable.

  "And my parents weren't the nicest people." She sighed. "At least she didn't end up like Bellatrix. She's in Azkaban now."

  He didn't answer. If he was being honest, he was surprised, though he hid it well. Granted, he spent his time out of Lucius and Narcissa's way, so he couldn't know them too much, but he hadn't expected for Narcissa to be against Voldemort's way. As he heard her talk about it, he was more and more certain that Narcissa opposed Voldemort's way, while Lucius supported it.

  As Lucas left to go back to the house, he sighed. The sooner this quest was done, the better. He didn't know if he could stand to be in Lucius Malfoy's presence for six more years. At least he had Luna to look forward to.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Malfoys vs Weasleys

The rest of the summer passed by pretty quickly. And uneventfully, for the most part. Not that Lucas let that fool him. Something was going to happen. He just knew it. It was the way the Fates' minds worked. When things get a bit bland, add some excitement.

  It had happened when Lucius went with Lucas to Diagon Ally. All things considered, it wasn't as bad as it could've been, but something still happened. And in Lucas's opinion, that was bad enough.

  "Draco!" Lucius rapped on the door that connected to Lucas's room, with what sounded suspiciously like his cane.

  Lucas ran over to the door and threw it open. "Yes?" There, standing just behind the door, stood Lucius Malfoy in all his glory. He had his long, platinum blond hair brushed back and he wore long robes. In his hand, he held his cane- a long black pole, tipped with a silver snake head at the top.

  He tossed a letter at Lucas. "Your letter came today. We're going to Diagon Ally to get your stuff. I'm buying you a racing broom for your birthday, as well." 

  "Yes, father." 

  Lucius nodded once and turned away. "Don't forget to slick your hair back- it's a mess."

  Lucas scoffed quietly as he gently shut the door. A mess. Yeah, right. If his hair was a mess right now, then he was a karpos. His hair was ruffled, not "a mess."

  He went into the bathroom connected to his room, trying his hardest to keep his frustration in check. He hated having his hair slicked back, he hated Lucius Malfoy and he hated Voldemort. Not necessarily in that order.

  After slicking his hair back (READ: manipulating the Mist and pouring out a bit of Sleekeazy's Hair potion from the bottle), Lucas opened the letter and read it. It informed him that he needed to catch the Hogwarts Express like usual, from King's Cross station on September 1st. It gave him a list of the new books he would need to pick up, as well.

  Second-year students will require:

  The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
  Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
  Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

  Lucas stared at the sheet in disbelief. The Standard Book of Spells was surely for Charms- that he could understand. It wasn't as if he would learn the same spells over and over again each year, but the rest? That was most likely for Defence Against the Dark Arts, but why did they need so many books?

  Then there was the mystery of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Lucas knew that the post was rumoured to be jinxed- Hogwarts had never kept a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for more than one year for Zeus knows how long.

  He sighed. "Well, if they turn out to be rubbish, at least I won't have to deal with them next year."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So Lucas found himself following his "father" down the streets of Knockturn Ally, a place that Lucius had failed to inform him that they were going to.

  Knockturn Ally was easily distinguishable from Diagon Ally. It was a dingy ally that looked like it was made of shops solely dedicated to the dark arts. The one that Lucius was leading him to- Borgin and Burkes- looked like the biggest shop on the street. It looked like the wizarding equivalent of an antique shop, albeit with much darker items.

  Lucius pushed open the door and Lucas trailed behind him, wondering what they were doing here. Surely he wasn't buying his gift here? 

  He immediately dismissed the thought. That was ridiculous. He said he was going to buy him a racing broom, not a dark object.

  The inside wasn't much better. Personally, Lucas preferred the outside of the shop to this. A glass case nearby had held a withered hand on a cushion, a pack of bloody cards and a glass eye that was creepily staring at him. Evil looking masks were placed on the walls, where they leered down at people, an array of human bones laid on the counter and rusty, spiked objects hung from the ceiling.

  Lucius rang a bell on the counter before addressing Lucas.

  "Touch nothing, Draco." He looked around lazily at the assortment of objects in the shop.

  Lucas decided to play the spoiled brat. "I thought you were going to buy me a present." He had been eyeing the glass eye. He half expected for him to be attacked by something. It was unlikely, but being hunted down by monsters made him paranoid. 

  "I said I would buy you a racing broom," Lucius snapped, drumming his fingers on the counter.

  "What good is the broom if I'm not on the house team?" Lucas was enjoying this way too much. There was a certain thrill in acting. He also found that acting came to him easily. It most likely came from his audiokinesis. "Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead..."

  He looked over to see a flash of emerald green through the crack of a large, black cabinet.

  He continued talking, hoping that Lucius hadn't noticed him stop.

  "... everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter  with his scar and his broomstick-"

  "You have told me this at least a dozen times already," Lucius butted in, glaring at him, "and I would remind you that it is not- prudent- to appear less fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear- ah, Mr. Borgin."

  Lucas suppressed a snort. Truth to be told, he had not told Lucius this at all- it was the work of the Mist. The amount of stuff the Mist could do never ceased to amaze him. If he wanted to, he could've made a drakon look like a stuffed toy.

  A hunching man had come up behind the counter, pushing his oily and greasy hair out of his face.

  "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again." Mr. Borgin's voice was as oily as his hair. "Delighted- and young Master Malfoy too- charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-"

  "I'm not buying, today, but selling, Mr. Borgin." Lucius had an impatient look on his face.

  The smile on Mr. Borgin's face faded slightly. "Selling?"

  "You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids." From the depths of his robe, he produced a long roll of parchment and unravelled it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few- ah- items at home that might embarrass me if the Ministry were to call..."

  Mr. Borgin placed a pair of pinze-nez on his nose and looked at the list.

  "The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

  Lucius's lips curled in distaste.

  "I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever meddlesome. There are rumours about a new Muggle Protection Act- no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it-"

  Lucas felt a sudden desire to strangle Lucius.

  "- and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear-"

  "Can I have that?" Lucas pointed at the withered hand in an attempt to stop Lucius from blathering on about how wizards were superior to Muggles.

  Mr. Borgin abandoned Lucius's list immediately. "Ah, the Hand of Glory! Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."

  "I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Lucius said coldly.

  "No offence, sir, no offence meant-" Mr. Borgin hastened to reassure him.

  "Though if his school grades don't pick up, that may indeed be all he is fit for." Lucius's voice was still icy cold.

  Lucas didn't reply. He couldn't see what was so bad about being a thief. A plunderer was bad, sure, but a thief wasn't too bad. His dad was the God of Thieves, for Zeus's sake. His jaw clenched tightly in anger, though he was careful to hide it.

  "I would've thought you would've been ashamed and upset that a girl of no wizard family had beat you in every exam," Lucius snapped.

  "It's the same all over." Mr. Borgin's voice was as oily as ever. "Wizard blood is accounting for less and less everywhere-"

  "Not with me," Lucius interjected, his nostrils flaring.

  "No sir, nor with me, sir." Mr. Borgin sank in a deep bow.

  "In that case, perhaps we can return to my list." Lucius looked incredibly impatient. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today."

  They began to negotiate. Lucas let his attention wander, looking at the different artifacts in the room, but did not touch them. He wasn't stupid- he knew that it wasn't a good idea to touch things that were clearly filled with dark magic. He began to the objects close to the cabinet. He was pretty sure someone was hiding in it.

  He inspected a long coil of hangman's rope and paused to read a card propped against an elaborate necklace of opals: Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed- Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date.

  Lucas inched towards the cabinet, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever was in there.

  "Done," Lucius announced from the counter. "Come, Draco!"

  Lucas sighed as he turned away. So much for finding out who was hidden in the cabinet.

  "Good day to you, Mr. Borgin, I'll expect you at the Manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."

  As they left, Lucas could hear Mr. Borgin mumble under his breath, "Good day to yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Soon Lucas and Lucius came into the vicinity of Flourish and Blotts, which was packed. People were actually jostling each other at the entrance of the shop. When they reached the entrance, it became very obvious why by the large banner stretched across the higher windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of his autobiography 
MAGICAL ME
today 12:30 - 4:30 pm

  "Excuse me," Lucius snapped. Lucas couldn't believe how Lucius could make a polite phrase sound menacing and rude. He'd call it a talent, but it really wasn't. Lucas didn't actually know what to call it. 

  He shook himself out of his thoughts just as the crowd parted to let Lucius through. Lucas quickly followed him inside, which was even more packed than the outside. A long line snaked around the bookshelves to the back of the store, where Lockhart was doing his autographs. Lucas went to grab the books assigned on the list.

  Before long, Lucas heard Lockhart shout out, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

  Lucas rushed to the back of the shop, just in time to see Lockhart pull Harry to the front, while the crowd were whispering excitedly.

  Lucas's first thought was that Lockhart was way too full of himself. He was wearing robes in forget-me-not blue which matched his eyes perfectly. His pointed wizard's hat set on an angle on his wavy blond hair and he smiled as if he owned the world. 

  Lockhart held Harry's hand up for the photographer, a short, irritable man. He was clicking away madly, with purple smoke drifting lazily over a family of redheads.

  "Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart instructed Harry. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

  Lucas honestly felt bad for Harry. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in Harry's place, ogled at like a show dog.

  Finally, Lockhart let go of Harry's hand. Lucas saw Harry try to discreetly go back to the Weasleys' side, but Lockhart threw an arm around Harry's shoulder and held him to his side firmly. 

  "Ladies and gentleman!" Lockhart waved his arm to signal for silence. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

  "When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography- which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" the crowd applauded loudly again, "-he had no idea," Lockhart continued, acting as if he had not been interrupted, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolfellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

  The crowd applauded and clapped, while Lucas groaned and resisted the urge to slam his head into the nearest bookshelf. He wasn't as good at reading people as Annabeth was, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Lockhart would make a terrible teacher. The man was way too full of himself.

  "Bet you're jealous that you weren't the one up there, aren't you, Malfoy?" Ron called out.

  Lucas turned around. Ron was standing just behind him, a look of glee on his face. Harry was talking to his younger sister Ginny, while Hermione was frowning in disapproval. Behind Ron, Fred and George were silently miming hexing him, to which Lucas discreetly shook his head. He didn't want them to hex their own brother for him.

  "What Malfoy?" Fred plastered a confused expression onto his face. "I don't see one. Do you, Fred?"

  "Not at all, George," George replied, playing along. Lucas tried not to laugh. "Perhaps we ought to consider a room in St. Mungos for our dear brother."

  Lucas couldn't help himself. He started laughing. It was like a dam had broken and all of the water had come rushing out. At first, it was snickers, which gradually increased to chuckles, which then turned into full out laughter. The twins were right, of course. He wasn't a Malfoy. He was a Castellan.

  By the time Lucas had finally calmed down, Mr. Weasley had come over, and Lucas took note of the scene. The twins were grinning broadly, Hermione looked torn between amusement and disapproval, Harry looked like he wanted to defend Ron and Ron went scarlet. Lucas was sure that Ron wanted to hex him on the spot for laughing at George's joke. Mr. Weasley simply looked confused.

  "What are you kids doing?" he asked. "It's mad in here, let's go outside."

  "He laughed at me!" Ron exploded, pointing at Lucas.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Oh, sorry for laughing at a very funny joke. Am I not allowed to laugh?"

  Mr. Weasley looked even more confused. "You are?"

  "Draco Malfoy, sir."

  "He's very nice," George interjected. "Nothing like Lucius Malfoy."

  "Well, well, well- Arthur Weasley."

  Lucius had come over. He placed his hand on Lucas's shoulder, a sneer on his face.

  Mr. Weasley nodded coldly. "Lucius."

  Lucius's expression remained the same. "Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

  Lucius extracted a very old, battered copy of A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration from Ginny's cauldron, amidst the glossy Lockhart books.

  Lucius smirked. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

  Mr. Weasley flushed a darker red than Ron.

  "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

  "Clearly." Lucius glanced at Hermione's parents, who were standing to the side, watching cautiously. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower-"

  There was a loud clang as Ginny's cauldron went flying- Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Lucius, knocking him backwards until he crashed into a bookshelf. Dozens of large and heavy tomes rained down on their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd backed up, knocking down even more bookshelves in the process.

  "Gentlemen, please- please!" The assistant desperately tried to control the situation. Then, in a louder voice, he yelled, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up!"

  Hagrid surged forwards through the sea of books. With a single pull, he had broke Lucius and Mr. Weasley apart. Mr. Weasley had a split lip and Lucius had a black eye from an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. On one hand, Lucius still had Ginny's transfiguration textbook. Lucas saw him slip a small, black, tattered book into it and Lucius thrust it at Ginny, eyes gleaming with malice.

  "Here, girl- take your book back- it's the best your father can give you."

  He pulled himself out of Hagrid's hold and beckoned for Lucas to follow him, leaving the store.

  Lucas sighed as he exited Flourish and Blotts. He would have to tell Fred and George about the book, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: The Disappearance of Harry and Ron

The rest of the summer went by smoothly. Nothing much happened. Except for the fact that Lucius was in a very bad mood. But, if Lucas was being honest? It was kind of funny. It was certainly amusing. Apparently, Lucius's ego couldn't face being knocked into a bookshelf by a "Blood-Traitor."

  On Lucas's last day, he spent the entire day outside, only going in for meals and when called in. He wouldn't have a whole lot of freedom once he got to Hogwarts. At Malfoy Manor, nobody bothered Lucas. Lucas had snuck out of Malfoy Manor to Camp Half-Blood, as he promised to Luna, and no one noticed.

  Then, in the evening, Lucas spent his time packing. It was a good excuse to stay in his room, seeing as he didn't want to spend time with Lucius longer than he had to. He was okay with Narcissa, but his thoughts on Lucius hadn't changed one bit. 

  The next morning, Lucas didn't want to get up. It was early, the sun had just come up and he just wanted to sleep. Then, Narcissa sent Dobby. That made him get out of bed. There was nothing like being woken up by a dirty house-elf with a very high pitched voice. After he had gotten ready and went down, there was a large breakfast set up in the dining room, which Lucas found unnecessary. It was just Narcissa, Lucius, and himself. The feast, sorry, breakfast, looked like it could feed the entirety of Camp Half-Blood. 

  Lucas was very curious as to how they would get to Kings Cross, as he doubted that they would use the Muggle way. Not Lucius, at least. Narcissa would probably have some sort of self-preservation and at least pretend to agree with Lucius. So when Narcissa told him to grab her arm, as they were going on Side-Along Apparition, Lucas nodded and played along. He had no idea what Side-Along Apparition was, but he wasn't going to show it.

  Then, Lucas felt Narcissa spin on the spot and everything went black (not that the Manor was bright enough, to begin with). Lucas felt like he was pressed from all sides; he couldn't breathe, it was as if iron bands were tightening around his chest and his eyes, as well as his ear-drums, were being forced into his skull.

  Soon after, it stopped and as Lucas's vision cleared, he saw that they were on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They had travelled from the Malfoy Manor, all the way to Kings Cross. More accurately, they had travelled directly into the platform.

  Lucas glanced around, trying to find anyone he knew. The Weasleys had yet to show up and it seemed like Daphne and Pansy had already gone on the train- he saw their parents chatting. He looked around some more, hoping to maybe catch Luna in the crowd. 

  Then, Lucas spotted Luna in the crowd, standing next to her father, who was probably the most eccentric-looking wizard to ever exist. He was slightly cross-eyed; his hair a very pale white, cut shoulder-length and with a texture, not unlike candyfloss. He was wearing tattered robes the shade of ivory.

  Luna spotted Lucas looking at them and waved.

  "Those are the Lovegoods," Narcissa informed Lucas. "They're rather... odd."

  "Hi, Draco!" Luna skipped over to them, practically bouncing with excitement. "How are you?"

  "Good." Lucas glanced at Narcissa. It seemed like she didn't think there was anything unusual with him and Luna conversing as if they were very good friends. Which, of course, they were, but that, was beside the point. 

  Luna smiled. "Well, that's good to hear. I wouldn't know what to do if you were unhappy." She lowered her voice. "Calling you by, 'Draco' is going to take some getting used to."

  Lucas snorted. He turned to Narcissa. "Is it okay if I find my friends? I want to introduce Luna to them."

  Narcissa nodded, smiling. "It's good to make friends in other houses. I won't tell your father."

  "Thank you." Lucas led Luna into a compartment, which, luckily, was where Theo, Pansy, and Daphne were.

  "Draco," Theo greeted them. "Who's this?"

  "A friend," Lucas replied.

  "Hi," Luna said. She stuck out a hand. "My name is Luna, Luna Lovegood."

  Pansy shook her hand. "Finally! Another girl!" She stuck her tongue out at Theo and Lucas, just as Lucas plopped down beside Theo. "There are more girls than boys, now."

  Theo rolled his eyes. "As if we care." He paused, then turned to Lucas. "Right?"

  "Are you asking me, or are you forcing me to agree?" Lucas asked. After a pause, he added, "Or is it both?"

  Daphne laughed. "Pretty sure it's both." She turned her attention to Luna. "Lovegood, huh? Your father wouldn't happen to be-"

  "-Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler?" Luna interrupted. "Yes. Please don't give me that styx about how the Quibbler is rubbish. I know that better than anyone."

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd speak dirty. Isn't eleven a bit young, though?"

  "...Shut up."

  Lucas broke into uncontrollable laughter, while Luna continued to scowl at him.

  After Lucas had finally calmed down, the Hogwarts Express had taken off. Soon after, to everyone's surprise (most likely), Percy, Fred and George's older brother, stuck his head in their compartment.

  "Has any of you seen Ron?" Percy asked. "Or Harry?"

  Luna frowned. "No. Why would we? From what I've heard from Draco, they're not exactly a fan of Slytherins." She waited for Percy's words to sink in. "Wait. They're missing?" she practically screeched.

  "Ow." Theo rubbed his ears gingerly, wincing as he did so. "A little warning next time?"

  Luna took note of their expressions, ranging from mildly irritated (Percy), to in physical pain (Theo).

  "I think you caused lasting damage to Theo's ears," Lucas joked. He turned to Percy. "How come they're missing."

  "I don't know!" Percy looked just about ready to tear his hair out. "When it was their turn to go through the barrier, they never showed up! At first, I thought that maybe they snuck away when no one was looking..." He trailed off. "Oh, Merlin."

  Percy left abruptly, leaving them to ponder what he had thought of.

  "I thought you didn't like Potter and Weasley?" Pansy asked Lucas.

  "I don't," Lucas confirmed, leaning back into the seat. "Not much, at least. But Fred and George care about them. Consider it as me doing a favour for them."

  "Makes sense," Luna piped up. She shared a knowing look with Lucas, one that said that she knew exactly what he was doing. After all, they shared a quest. If Lucas couldn't keep an eye on Harry, then the quest was already doomed.

  They continued to chat for the rest of the trip until they arrived at the Hogsmeade station. They got off and followed the rest of the school (save for the first years) onto a rough, mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the students, each pulled by fleshless winged horses, with a dragon-like head and white, pupil-less eyes, as well as grand, black leathery wings that resembled a bat's.

  "What are those horses?" Lucas asked Theo, mainly because he thought Theo could see them. He didn't think the rest could.

  "I think those are Thestrals." Theo settled comfortably in the seat. "A breed of winged horses visible only to people who have seen death and have dealt with it."

  Lucas noted that the coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. As the Thestrals trudged over to a pair of magnificent, iron-wrought gates, bordered by two stone columns topped with winged boars, Lucas pondered over where Harry and Ron could've gone. He really couldn't care less about where Ron was, but this quest was about protecting Harry. What if he had missed the Hogwarts Express? 

  "Σταματήσει," Lucas told himself. "Η ανησυχία δεν θα σας οδηγήσει πουθενά."

  The carriage soon picked up speed on the sloping path up to the castle, until at last, the carriage stood to a halt.

  "We're here," Theo said, a little unnecessary.

  "We know that," Daphne retorted.

  They got out of the coach, which was swaying slightly as the Thestrals fidgeted. They went up to the oak doors, heading in when it opened, and walked through the corridors.

  When Lucas got to the Slytherin table, he sat down and glanced at the Gryffindor table.

  All of a sudden, Lucas froze. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the Gryffindor table, but there was no mistaking it.

  Everyone from years one to seven was already here. Harry Potter, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Translations:

Σταματήσει. Η ανησυχία δεν θα σας οδηγήσει πουθενά. (Stop it. Worrying will get you nowhere.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: Luna's Sorting

Lucas was freaking out. Silently. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. Just because he was freaking out didn't mean that he had to subject everyone to his panic. Besides, the moment he made it public, his cover would be blown. After all, why would a Slytherin care about a Gryffindor?

  Lucas stared at the entrance to the Great Hall, hoping that Harry and Ron would come in. Maybe their coach was behind. Maybe they were late getting off the train and had to walk the distance. He desperately tried to keep his breathing level.

  "Draco." Daphne waved a hand in front of Lucas. "Draco? Earth to Draco?"

  Lucas snapped out of his thoughts, finally calming down. "What?"

  "You were zoning out." Daphne gestured at the entrance to the Great Hall. "The first years are going to be sorted any second now. All we have to do is wait to see what house Luna gets sorted in."

  "Which house do you think she'll be in?" Pansy leaned towards them.

  "Slytherin," Theo put in.

  Lucas shook his head. "She's a Ravenclaw, whether she likes it or not."

  Daphne shook her head. "No way. She's not that bookish. I'm not saying she's not smart, but she doesn't seem like the type to spend her entire studying. She's a Hufflepuff for sure. I mean, she's kind and patient. You know, on the Hogwarts Express, she was explaining about Ancient Runes to me!"

  "Hence why she'll be in Ravenclaw," Lucas retorted.

  "I'll have to side with Draco on this one." Pansy kept her eyes trained on the entrance. "She's pretty eager to learn." She paused, lost in thought, then added, "Why don't we bet?"

  "Ten Galleons to whoever wins?" Theo glanced at each of them for confirmation.

  Lucas shrugged. "Sure." He stopped for a moment, then snickered. "You know, if Pansy and I win, you'll lose double."

  "Which is why I hope either Theo or I win." Daphne had her eyes glued to the entrance, where McGonagall had just entered, followed by the first years, who were in a line. "Preferably me."

  Lucas snorted. "'Cause then you won't have to pay at all."

  "Hush." Daphne put a finger to her lips. "Luna's being sorted."

  Lucas turned his head to the front, and sure enough, Luna was sitting on the three-legged stool, with the Sorting Hat placed lopsided on her head so that it completely covered one eye and only covered half of her other eye. Her leg was bouncing at an erratic pace and she seemed to be fidgeting. A lot. 

  After what seemed like a whole minute, the hat seemed to have decided and yelled, "RAVENCLAW!"

  "YES!" Pansy clapped loudly- the loudest out of the four of them. "Theo, Daphne, you both owe me ten Galleons!"

  Theo groaned loudly. He turned to Lucas, with a pleading expression. "Murder me. Please."

  Lucas shook his head. "Nope." He gestured to the Ravenclaw table, where Luna was seated. "Ask the Ravenclaw."

  Pansy laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's his way of rubbing his victory in his face."

  "At least I don't yell at the whole school that I've just won a bet," Lucas retorted without any heat.

  "Where do you think Snape is?" Theo asked before Pansy could reply to Lucas's retort.

  Lucas glanced up at the Staff Table. Snape's seat was empty, and as he scanned the Great Hall, the greasy-haired Potions Master was nowhere to be found. His chair was pushed back, which suggested that Snape was there at some point, and then left.

  "Not here," Daphne deadpanned.

  Theo rolled his eyes. "Hence why I'm asking."

  Pansy giggled. "Oooh, look!" Pansy pointed at the entrance of the hall.

  Theo turned his head to look at where Pansy was pointing so fast that Lucas half expected him to get whiplash. 

  "What is it?"

  "It's just Weasley and Potter." Lucas had also seen what Pansy saw. Of course, he was lying (maybe to his friends, or maybe to himself. He wasn't quite sure). It wasn't just them. He noticed that they looked slightly dishevelled and he wondered just what were they doing, as well as how they got to Hogwarts in the first place if they missed the Hogwarts Express.

  "Wonder how they got here?" Pansy voiced the question that was on everyone's mind.

  Lucas smirked. "So you can add something to the rumour mill?"

  "No." Pansy rolled her eyes. "Okay, maybe. But you can't tell me that you're not interested as to how they got here. I mean, they can't have taken the Hogwarts Express. Even if they got off late and missed the coaches, they wouldn't be this late. The Sorting Ceremony is already over!"

  "What?" Theo turned to look at the staff table. The stool had already been carried away and the Sorting Hat was nowhere to be seen. On top of that, McGonagall was in her seat. Theo's eyes widened. "Blimey. Didn't think we were talking that long."

  Pansy sniffed. "Yes, well, not everyone ignores everything else but their own conversation."

  "Have you thought about being a detective, Pans?" Daphne asked. When Pansy gave her a confused expression, she added, "It's a Muggle job. Yes, we all know how much you don't like the so-called "Mudbloods," but Draco expressed hate about them and Half-Bloods, and he's friends with me, as well as Granger."

  "I was acting," Lucas corrected her, a bit miffed. "I don't care about their blood-status. Why should I? There are other things to look for in a person: their interests, hobbies and personality."

  Pansy thought about it. "True," she admitted. "I wouldn't want to be friends with someone who is a complete ass, even if they were a Pure-Blood." She turned to Daphne. "So, what exactly does a detective do?"

  Daphne seemed to brighten up, and she began to explain the profession to Pansy. Soon they had forgotten about Lucas and Theo.

  "Excluded out of the conversation," Theo joked.

  Lucas snorted and glanced back at the entrance to the hall to see Harry and Ron grudgingly follow Snape to the Dungeons. Their shoulders were slumped and their muscles were tensed up. Lucas turned to look at the Ravenclaw table to see if Luna had seen them. 

  Luna met his gaze; nodded briefly and mouthed, "Where do you think they're going?" Lucas just shrugged in response, careful to not let anyone see. Then, he went back to internally panicking. As well as eating, but he felt like his body was on autopilot. 

  The feast soon wrapped up and Lucas followed the rest of the Slytherins to the Slytherin Dungeon. Pansy suddenly ran up to Lucas and said, "There's a rumour going around about how Potter and Weasley came via a flying car." Then, she nodded once and headed to the Girls' Dormitory.

  Theo frowned. "What does she mean by that?"

  "That someone said that Weasley and Potter used a flying car to get here." Lucas couldn't help but continue to worry about Harry. By the time he got ready for bed, he flopped on the bed and drew the hangings tight, hoping that the next day would be better.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: Professor Lockhart

Despite Lucas wishing for the next day to be bland and uneventful, the next day was anything but that. From breakfast in the Great Hall, things became steadily worse, though it would be a lie if Lucas said that he didn't find breakfast at least a bit amusing.

  Breakfast started the same as any other morning. The four long tables were each decorated in their house's colours and piled with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon beneath the enchanted ceiling, which was a dull, cloudy gray. Theo, Lucas, Pansy and Daphne had sat together at the Slytherin table chatting, keen to ignore everything else. Well, Lucas was. 

  However, Lucas had just picked up a piece of toast when there was a rushing sound overhead, accompanied by about a hundred owls rushing in, circling the Great Hall; dropping letters and packages. The Malfoys' family owl dropped a package of sweets in front of Lucas then left, making sure to "accidentally" cuff Blaise on the head with its wing.

  Lucas sniggered at Blaise's shocked face.

  "What was that for?" Blaise yelled at the retreating bird. "Bloody bird," he added under his breath.

  "Did your family owl just-" Theo stared at Blaise, who was rubbing the side of his gingerly, and then Theo blinked. "Wow. He's awesome. Is it a he?"

  Lucas didn't reply. He didn't know himself. He couldn't very well say, "I don't know." It was the Malfoy's family owl. How would he not know?

  Suddenly, there was a sudden burst of sound that startled Lucas out of his thoughts, and he swore he saw the ceiling rattle.

  "... STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..."

  Lucas glanced at the Gryffindor table, trying to find the source of the sound. In front of Ron, there was a red letter screaming at him. Lucas guessed that the voice belonged to Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't met her, but who else would send something like that? He noted that Ron was very red.

  "...LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED..."

  Lucas felt the corners of his mouth twitch, but he tried to keep a neutral face. It wasn't funny at all. He shouldn't be amused, but in this situation, there were only two different emotions you could feel: embarrassed or amused. 

  "...ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

  Lucas's ears rang from the onslaught of sound. He rubbed them gingerly, while there was a sudden silence. Then, a few people started to laugh and soon after, people started talking as if nothing had happened. 

  After a while, Snape made his way down to the Slytherin table from the Staff table and started handing out their schedules. Lucas took his schedule and saw that his year had History of Magic.

  He groaned. By pure luck, Snape had already left.

  "What?" Theo inquired.

  "Look at what we have! History of Magic! First thing today. This is just-" Lucas cut himself off and gave a very frustrated huff.

  Theo stared disbelievingly at his schedule. "Why are we being punished? If anything it should be Weasley and Potter in our place - they were the ones that flew a car to school."

  Daphne laughed. "Come on. At least there'll be plenty of time to catch up on sleep!" She practically skipped out of the Great Hall, with Lucas, Pansy and Theo following her.

  "Man, why is she so cheerful this morning?" Lucas grumbled under his breath.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

History of Magic wasn't much different. Binns went on about Goblin Wars as usual- why couldn't he talk about something else? There were only so many Goblin and Giant Wars you could talk about. Why couldn't he talk about the history of Hogwarts or events that occurred in other countries?

  Lucas sighed as he absentmindedly drew on a scrap of parchment. One could hope.

  Theo prodded Lucas's shoulder. "Hey. Draco."

  Lucas gave him a very annoyed stare, then returned to drawing. "What?"

  "Wanna play Exploding Snap?" Theo reached into his bag. "I think I have a pack here."

  "Sure. What are we trying to accomplish? Get Binns to look up from his notes?"

  "YES!"

  Some people looked at them strangely, but unsurprisingly, Binns didn't give them so much as a glance. Instead, he continued to drone on and on. 

  "Yeah, I don't think Exploding Snap will get his attention. Spit?"

  "Okay."

  Theo shuffled the cards and set up the game. Spit was fairly simple: the objective was to be the first player to get rid of all their cards. The cards occasionally exploded, but none of them drew Binns's attention. Lucas briefly considered blowing up the classroom to see if Binns would notice, but ultimately decides against it. He didn't want to be expelled for property damage.

  The class flew by pretty quickly (time flies by when you're having fun), to Lucas's surprise. They left the classroom and headed to class, which was Charms. At least that was interesting.

  Lucas was pleased to find that Charms was still as easy as ever. Flitwick had given them a little lecture, refreshing their minds on how to cast a spell properly, then he started the lesson, teaching them how to cast an Engorgement and Shrinking Charm. By the end of the class, Lucas had succeeded in enhancing the size of his apple and reverting it to its original size.

  "Well, you were always the best at Charms out of the four of us," Theo sighed. He had overpowered his Engorgement Charm and caused the apple to swell to the size of a cannonball before it exploded, scattering its pieces across the classroom.

  Pansy patted Theo's shoulder. "Better luck next time. What do we have after lunch?"

  "Defence Against the Dark Arts!" Daphne piped up. "I'm so excited! I mean, have you read any of his books yet? He's so brave! The way he just zapped the werewolf after he was cornered into a telephone box?"

  Lucas just sighed, while Theo rolled his eyes. 

  "Οι θεοί με βοηθούν," Lucas muttered under his breath as they entered the Great Hall. "Γι ' αυτό είναι τόσο χαρούμενη."

  Theo stared at Daphne's schedule. "Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin, have you drew little flowers around all of our Defence Against the Dark Arts classes?"

  Daphne flushed furiously and stuffed her schedule back into her bag. 

  They finished lunch and headed into the overcrowded courtyard since they still had a few minutes until Defence Against the Dark Arts. Daphne opened Break With a Banshee and Pansy read along with her.

  "I don't get what's so great about Gilderoy Lockhart," Theo complained.

  Lucas nodded in agreement. "He's an arrogant toerag." Luckily, Daphne and Pansy were too engrossed in their book to hear him say that.

  "So you've met him?"

  Lucas huffed. "Yeah. In Flourish and Blotts. And I wish I hadn't. Why did Dumbledore ever employ him?"

  "Dunno."

  Suddenly, Lucas heard Blaise call out, "Everyone queue up! Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

  Lucas and Theo turned to look at Blaise just as Harry said, "No I'm not. Shut up, Zabini." He clenched his fists angrily and his face was tomato-red.

  "You're just jealous," a first-year piped up. He was a very small, mousy-haired boy, grasping a camera in his hand.

  Blaise laughed. "Jealous?" He no longer had to raise his voice- the entire courtyard had their eyes and ears on him. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

  Crabbe and Goyle were laughing like the idiots and brainless minions they were.

  Ron took a step forward and said angrily, "Eat slugs, Zabini." Crabbe stopped laughing immediately and rubbed his large knuckles threateningly.

  Blaise smirked. "Be careful, Weasley. You don't want to start any trouble or your mummy'll have to come and take you away from school." He switched to a shrill, high-pitched voice. "If you put another toe out of line-"

  Some Slytherins close by laughed at this.

  "Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter," Blaise continued. "It'd be worth more than his family's entire house."

  Ron pulled out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione, who Lucas had decided was the only member of the Golden Trio who had an ounce of logic, snapped her book shut and whisper-yelled, "Look out!"

  Gilderoy Lockhart was walking towards them, with his turquoise robes swirling about. "What's all this, what's all this? Who's giving out signed photos?"

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Like you weren't thinking about handing out signed photos to everyone you meet," he muttered under his breath.

  Lucas saw Harry open his mouth to speak but was interrupted as Lockhart flung an arm around Harry's shoulder and boomed jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

  Lucas saw Blaise slip back into the crowd with a large smirk on his face.

  "Come on then, Mr. Creevey." Lockhart beamed at the first-year. "A double portrait, can't say fairer than that, and we'll both sign it for you."

  Creevey smiled and fumbled for his camera, taking a picture just as the bell rang, signifying the start of classes for the afternoon. 

  "Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called as he dragged Harry into the castle, who was pinned to his side.

  "To be honest, I kind of feel bad for Potter," Lucas said to Theo quietly. "Stuck with Lockhart yammering in his ear."

  Theo made a noise of agreement as they headed to the classroom. "I dread to see what today's lesson is about."

  "Probably a 'Meet the Teacher Day.'"

  Theo groaned as they entered the classroom, where they (unfortunately) were shepherded to the front by Pansy and Daphne. As they were going to the front, Lucas heard Ron say, "Harry Potter Fan Club."

  Lucas snorted as he took his seat. He could always persuade Ginny to start one. He wasn't familiar with her, but maybe he could talk to her. He might be able to find out what that book was about, too.

  The class grew silent as Lockhart cleared his throat. He picked up Neville's copy of Travels With Trolls and raised it to show the class his own, winking photo on the cover.

  "Me." Lockhart pointed at the photo and winked. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award- but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

  He waited for them to laugh. Lucas gave him a very strained and forced smile.

  "I see you've bought a complete set of my books- well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about- just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

  When he handed the tests out, he walked back to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start, now!"

  Lucas looked down at his sheet. He had already decided to get the lowest mark just to spite Lockhart. Nevertheless, he began to read:

    1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?
    2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
    3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

  It went on and on, over three sheets of paper, until it finally ended at:

    54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

  Half an hour later, when everyone had filled out their tests, Lockhart shuffled through them in front of the class.

  "Tut, tut- hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year With a Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings With Werewolves a bit more carefully- I clearly state in Chapter Twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic people- though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

  Theo stared at Lockhart in disbelief, while Lucas had to bit his tongue to prevent himself from breaking into peals of laughter. Was Lockhart that blind? Surely he noticed that some people didn't like him?

  Then Lockhart mentioned Hermione.

  "... But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions- good girl! In fact-" he flipped her test over. "-full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

  From behind Lucas, at the very back of the classroom, Hermione raised her trembling hand.

  "Excellent!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Quiet excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business..."

  He bent down from behind his desk and set a large, covered cage onto it.

  "Now- be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourself facing your worst fear in this room. Know only that no harm will come to you whilst I am here. All I ask is for you to remain calm."

  Lockhart placed a hand on the cloth obscuring the cage. Lucas had stopped laughing, though he didn't really believe Lockhart. 

  "I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said dramatically. "It might provoke them."

  The whole class was silent. Then, Lockhart pulled off the cloth.

  "Yes. Freshly caught Cornish Pixies."

  Drama queen, Lucas thought, annoyed.

  Seamus Finnigan seemed to be thinking the same thing. He let out a snort of laughter that nobody, not even Lockhart, could mistake for a scream of terror.

  Lockhart seemed unfazed and smiled at Seamus. "Yes?"

  "Well, they're not- they're not - dangerous, are they?"

  Lockhart waved a finger at Seamus that made Lucas very annoyed. "Don't be so sure! Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

  Lucas had to admit that Lockhart's words made sense. Electric blue and six inches high, the pixies didn't look like much, but their size wasn't a guarantee of power.

  "Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" With that, he opened the cage, setting the pixies loose.

  All Hades broke out. The pixies scattered everywhere, flying through the air like rockets. Two of them grabbed Neville by the ears and hoisted him into the air. Several flew through the windows, showering the back with shattered glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom better than a rampaging cyclops. Within minutes, the whole class was taking shelter under desks.

  "He's mad," Theo hissed. "Off his rocker. Absolutely insane."

  Lucas sighed as he contemplated pulling out his knife and gutting a pixie with it. Surely Celestial Bronze would work. If not, he always had the silver pocketknife he picked up at Gringotts.

  Just as he reached for the knife, Lockhart yelled out, "Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies!"

  Then he rolled up his sleeves and waving his wand extravagantly, he yelled, "Peskipiki Pesternomi!"

  Nothing happened. No light or effect. Instead, a pixie flew over and grabbed Lockhart's wand, chucking it out a broken window. Lockhart swallowed nervously, his face paled, and he ducked under his desk, only to be crushed a minute after because Neville had fallen onto his desk.

  The bell rang and Lucas sighed in relief as he followed the rest of the class out the door.

  "What happened?" It was from Fred. "Why is everyone rushing out?"

  "Cornish Pixies," Lucas grumbled. "I didn't think Lockhart would be this bad."

  Pansy and Daphne both glared at him. Lucas hoped Hermione and Luna wouldn't be like this.

  Fred winced. "I feel you."

  "We had him first thing this morning," George said.

  "Ah." Lucas shifted on his feet. "Um, do you mind if I talk to you for a moment? In private, I mean."

  "No problem," the twins said at the same time. They dragged him into an abandoned classroom just down the corridor.

  "So," Fred began.

  "What do you," George continued.

  "Want to talk to us about?"

  "That really is a bit creepy," Lucas muttered. Then, in a much more audible voice, "I wanted to ask you if you could keep a closer eye on Ginny. I saw Lucius slip a black, tattered book into her Transfiguration textbook. It might not be anything, but he's been in a very bad mood ever since your dad made the new Muggle Protection Act. He might have chosen to retaliate by hurting Ginny."

  Fred and George looked grim, which was a new look on them. Lucas didn't think he had ever seen them like that before.

  "We'll keep an eye on her," George promised.

  "Yeah," Fred agreed. "No offence, but Lucius Malfoy is a slimy snake."

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm not too fond of Slytherins either. Most of them are prejudiced Pure-Bloods who think everyone's beneath them."

  They chuckled. "You can't say fairer than that," Fred said.

  "Well-"

  "-we'll see you later, Lucas."

  "Take care of yourself-"

  "-and try not to die-"

  "-before dinner."

  Lucas shook his head amusedly. "Will do." He slid out of the room and into the empty hallway, going to his next class.

Translations:

Οι θεοί με βοηθούν. Γι ' αυτό είναι τόσο χαρούμενη. (Gods help me. No wonder she's so cheerful.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: Nimbus 2001

Lucas spent half of his breaks re-reading the class materials. He didn't want to fall behind because he forgot everything over the Summer.

  Lucas had spent the other half trying to track down Ginny. When he had finally found her on Thursday, she had turned red and turned to flee, but Luna, who was accompanying him, asked her to hang out with them.

  "Are we that scary?" Lucas joked.

  Ginny smiled weakly. "No. It's just that Fred and George talk about you so much it seems kind of surreal that you're talking to me."

  "I bet your brother enjoyed that." Lucas rolled his eyes. "Honestly, what did I ever do?"

  Ginny plopped down on the ground leaning on a tree and they joined her. "I don't know. I think he doesn't like your dad, so he hates you, but that's just him. Mum and Dad were wary at first, but they trust Fred and George's judgement." She paused. "Even if it means another prankster. For the record, I'm not taking anything from you, and if you try to prank me, I'll make you regret it."

  Lucas laughed nervously. "Alright, I won't do anything. I believe you. You grew up with Fred and George, after all."

  Luna gave Lucas an incredulous look. "She's younger than you. I doubt she knows any hexes. Even if she punched you, I doubt it would do anything."

  "You're younger than me," Lucas pointed out. "Δεν σε εμπόδισε να μου σπάσεις ένα πλευρό το καλοκαίρι."

  She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You were distracted." Then her eyes widened. "Blimey. Did I just-" Luna huffed. "No wonder you're in Slytherin."

  "I didn't do anything!"

  Ginny snickered. Lucas noticed that she was making a daisy crown. Ginny placed it on Luna's head; then backed up, pretending to trip and fall on her back.

  Luna turned to look at Ginny. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." A big smirk played across Ginny's features. "I did that on purpose. It's fun."

  "Fun," Luna repeated. She followed Ginny's example and fell. "It's so fun!"

  Lucas shook his head in exasperation. "Ginny, I don't think she noticed the daisies."

  "What?" Luna swiped at her head, knocking the daisy crown onto the ground. "Oh. That's pretty. How did you make one?"

  Ginny launched into an explanation on how to make a daisy crown. Within minutes, Luna and Ginny were making daisy crowns. 

  Lucas stood up. "Well, I'm gonna go now, since you don't need me. Have fun!" He ran off towards the castle, but Luna blocked him.

  "Hold on. Can I ask you something?"

  "You just did," he pointed out.

  Luna rolled her eyes. "I wanted to ask how you pulled off burning your food without anybody noticing."

  "Oh. That. I go to the kitchen to burn them. I'll show it to you later."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The last thing that Lucas would ever expect was Marcus Flint marching towards with him in the Slytherin common room, telling him to come with him to the Quidditch Pitch.

  "Okay," Lucas said, once they got to the Quidditch Pitch. "Spill. What do you want with me?"

  Flint smirked. "You really shouldn't take that tone with your Quidditch Captain."

  The words caught Lucas by surprise. "Wha- Quidditch Captain? You're not- I never went to try-outs! And I definitely have no interest in playing Quidditch!"

  Flint gave him a look. "Your father donated Nimbus 2001s to our entire Quidditch team. Therefore, you are accepted as a Seeker." With that, he turned around and headed back towards the castle.

  "Lucius Malfoy," Lucas muttered under his breath. "βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας. Εσύ Αχθος αρούρης." He rolled his eyes. "Oh who am I kidding? Λούσιους Μαλφόι, ορκίζομαι σε όλους τους θεούς, θα σε κάνω να εύχεσαι να μην είχες γεννηθεί ποτέ!"

  He huffed and turned around, just as Neville made his way over to him.

  "Hello, Draco. Are you alright, mate?"

  "Yeah." Lucas resisted the urge to continue to holler at the top of his lungs. "Just frustrated."

  "I heard you yelling." Neville looked at him oddly. "Any other hidden talents? Besides combat and Greek, I mean."

  "Erm..." Lucas debated on what would be safe to tell Neville. Languages he could tell Neville and maybe his pickpocketing skills. "I know a bit of French," he admitted. "A cousin taught me." That was true. Silena had taught him French as thanks for tipping her off on who pulled the Golden Mango prank on her and her half-siblings. "And, um, I'm good at pickpocketing."

  That was all it took to make Neville nervous. In all honesty, if Lucas had known that would set Neville off, he would've never mentioned it. Neville scared/became nervous way too easily. What was so terrifying about being good at pickpocketing?

  "Why are you so nervous? It's not as if I'm a mass murderer," Lucas joked, trying to calm Neville down.

  Neville shrugged nervously if that was even possible. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe because stealing is bad?"

  Lucas stared at him. "Okay," he said in an indignant tone, "first of all, it's not stealing, it's pickpocketing. Second of all, I'm a kleptomaniac. It runs in the family. Not that I care, but..." Lucas trailed off, realizing that he let slip about his demigod heritage. Sure, it wasn't obvious, but he still let slip. He didn't think the Malfoys were thieves. Anybody with an ounce of logic would know that the Malfoys wouldn't steal. They were a very rich family.

  Luckily for him, Neville didn't pick up on it. 

  "Okay. Well, um, I-I'm just gonna go," Neville stuttered. He was obviously still nervous. "Give you some space and all that." With that, Neville turned and headed back towards the castle, occasionally tripping over tufts of grass. 

  Lucas snorted. How Neville was so clumsy, he would never know. If Neville was a demigod, Lucas wouldn't think he was a child of Hermes. Demeter, maybe, with his affinity for Herbology. Lucas admired him for that. There wasn't anything Neville didn't know when it came to Herbology. Lucas on the other hand tended to kill every plant he came across (by accident, of course).

  Then Lucas recalled why he was yelling in the first place and was sorely tempted to continue. Instead, he settled on muttering angrily under his breath as he headed back towards the castle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Come Saturday morning, Lucas was following the rest of his Quidditch team to the Quidditch Pitch. Lucas was still mad- wait, no. Lucas was still furious at Lucius. There was nothing he would like more than to go to Malfoy Manor and beat Lucius senseless. Unfortunately, he wasn't supposed to harm Mortals. So, Lucas restrained himself, brooding silently instead.

  "Flint!" A loud voice startled Lucas out of his thoughts. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

  It was from Oliver Wood. He was a well built and burly sixth year, who was obsessed with Quidditch, according to Fred and George. They also claimed that Wood breathed, ate, and slept Quidditch. Lucas had never believed them, until now. Looking at the maniacal gleam in Wood's eyes, Lucas could believe them.

  "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood," Flint replied. 

  "But I booked it! I booked the pitch!" Wood's face was red from rage. The hand that he had clenched on his broomstick was very white.

  "Ah," Flint said, with a look of cunningness on his face, "but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch Pitch owing to the need to train their own Seeker."

  That distracted Wood. "You've got a new Seeker? Who?"

  Miles Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, shoved Lucas forward. Lucas wanted to not move just to spite everyone, but he still went forward, muttering a Greek curse under his breath. 

  "Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Wood looked at Lucas in distaste, which Lucas was completely fine with. It wasn't Lucas himself that Wood didn't like. It could be either the name Malfoy or the fact that he was on the opposing team. Probably the latter.

  The whole Slytherin team smiled widely and Lucas rolled his eyes. Oh great. Here it comes. 

  "Funny you should mention Draco's father, Wood," Flint said. "Let me show you his generous gift to the Slytherin team."

  Lucas really didn't like what Lucius did. If he wanted to play Quidditch, he would've won the position fairly. He wouldn't want to bribe his way in. But, he had to admit that the Nimbus 2001 was a very good broom. The highly polished, brand-new handles, with fine gold lettering that spelt "Nimbus 2001" gleamed in the early morning sun.

  "The latest model. Only came out last month." Flint nonchalantly flicked a speck of dirt off of his broomstick's handle, which Lucas found unnecessary. "I believe it outstrips the old 2000 series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps," he smiled gloatingly at Fred and George, who both had Cleansweep Fives, "sweeps the board with them."

  None of the Gryffindors said anything, so Lucas muttered a "Very funny" under his breath for them.

  "Oh look," Flint said. "A pitch invasion."

  Hermione and Ron were stalking over to see what was going on. 

  "What's going on?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring the Slytherins. "Why aren't you playing? And what is he doing here?"

  Ron glared at Lucas, taking in his Quidditch robes. 

  "Flint's made me their new Seeker." Lucas practically spat the words out. "Because my father bribed him into it."

  "I do not take bribes," Flint protested.

  "Oh yes, you would, you ψεύτη μπάσταρδε," Lucas muttered under his breath.

  Hermione glanced at Lucas strangely out of the corner of her eye. She didn't understand any of the Ancient Greek coming out of Lucas's mouth, but that didn't mean that she was deaf. Most of the Ancient Greek that came out of his mouth sounded particularly insulting, and she didn't think this time was any different.

  "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," she finally said. "They got on with pure talent."

  "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Bletchley snarled.

  The effect was immediate. Flint had to jump in front of Bletchley to prevent the twins from jumping on him; Alicia shrieked "How dare you!"; Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Bletchley; Lucas gave Bletchley a very fierce glare that he was proud to say Bletchley had cowered from.

  Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a jet of green light shot out of the handle of Ron's wand and hit him in the stomach, sending him back a few feet.

  "Ron, Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione asked/squealed.

  Ron opened his mouth to reply, but slugs tumbled out of his mouth.

  Lucas grimaced. That was disgusting. He really didn't want to know how the curse works. Was it a type of conjuring spell? 

  Lucas seemed to be the only Slytherin who didn't find this funny. Flint was holding onto his broomstick for support and Bletchley was on the ground, banging his fists against the ground. 

  The Gryffindor team, however, were crowded around Ron, not doing anything. Lucas couldn't blame them. The curse certainly was nasty.

  Lucas looked at the Slytherin team and back at the Gryffindors. Then he smirked as he pointed his wand at Bletchley and cast the same spell Ron did, just as Harry and Hermione dragged him off.

  Nobody saw him cast the curse. Well, Fred and George caught on. After the Slytherin team stopped laughing and dragged Bletchley to the Hospital Wing. It was probably because he was grinning like an idiot.

  "You didn't," Fred said after he realized what happened.

  "I did." Lucas was still smiling. "I mean, that was a good curse. I couldn't resist." His smile faded and he turned to Wood. "I'd like to apologize for their pigheaded behaviour."

  Wood seemed unimpressed. "Hmph."

  "Apology accepted," Katie interjected. "Anyone who curses Slytherins is fine in my book. Er, bad Slytherins. Not all Slytherins have to live up to their house's reputation."

  Lucas laughed. "I think the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff at first."

  "You should have been put in Hufflepuff," George mumbled. "You act like a Hufflepuff. Asides from the fact that your insults are very... creative."

  "That's one way of putting it," Lucas agreed. "You should've heard me when Flint told me I was going to be on the Quidditch team."

  Alicia stared at me quizzically.

  "Just ask Neville," he replied hastily. "I should go before they find out I was the one who cursed Bletchley. Wouldn't want my reputation to be ruined."

  Fred gaped at Lucas. "You have a reputation?"

  "How could you do this to us?" George added. 

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have a reputation. Surprised?"

  "Very."

  "Shut up."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas couldn't quite believe that he had forgotten to IM Luke. He was probably the worst brother ever. He completely forgot last year, and Luke had to remind Lucas to call him this time. Which is how Lucas found himself in a bathroom, making a rainbow.

  Lucas dug out a Drachma. "Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me, Luke Castellan at Camp Half-Blood." He tossed the Drachma through the rainbow.

  The rainbow shimmered and showed Luke's image. He wasn't much older- only by three years. Most people claimed that Lucas was a younger carbon copy of Luke. They both were tall and had an athletic, muscular build. They also had blue eyes, a sharp nose, and like all children of Hermes, a sneaky look. The only difference was that Luke had a very thick, deep scar that ran from the bottom of his eye to his chin. 

  Personality-wise, they were very different. Both of them liked a good laugh, but Luke acted a lot like their dad, while Lucas was more like their mother. Luke was serious and sneaky, while Luke was more open and relaxed. 

  Luke was practising in the Sword Fighting Arena alone. He slashed at the straw dummies, never stopping for more than a few seconds.

  "Luke," Lucas called, hoping to surprise him. Luke spun around, nearly ending the Iris Message with his sword, before recognizing him and lowering his sword.

  "Lucas!" Luke exclaimed, grinning. "How are you?"

  "Good," Lucas replied. "Sorry that I took this long to Iris Message. Classes were a bit of a mess. I forgot a lot of it and uh, spent pretty much the entire catching up."

  Luke laughed. "It's fine. Things get busy when you're on a quest." He narrowed his eyes. "Even if you're not being completely truthful about the quest."

  "I-I wasn't-"

  He cut Lucas off. "I know you you're lying. That was one of the worst lies to ever come out of your mouth."

  Lucas glared at him. "Oh, thanks!"

  "It was more of the fact that you couldn't tell us most of the details," Luke admitted. "That rarely happens. And long-term quests weren't a thing before."

  Lucas crossed his arms. "Okay. Fine. You win. But I can't tell you the details."

  "Does it have anything to do with magic?" Luke asked innocently (which he should not be able to pull off, in Lucas's opinion).

  Lucas nearly choked on air. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

  Luke shrugged. "Kind of obvious. Hecate showed up to issue a quest and then you're not allowed to share details. I figured it had something to do with magic. Hecate is the Goddess of Magic."

  "Okay. How exactly did you find out that Hecate was the one who issued the quest?"

  "Annabeth told me," Luke replied in the casual tone that was slowly getting on Lucas's nerves.

  "Βλάκας," Lucas muttered. Of course, Annabeth told him. Who else? Annabeth was the only person who knew other than Chiron. 

  "Yeah," Luke agreed.

  Lucas stared at him. "Oh, you wound me. Ouch. That hurt. What kind of brother are you?"

  "The kind that kills everyone that spares so much as a glance towards you," Luke joked. 

  Lucas made a noise of agreement. "You did. At least they were all monsters. I wouldn't want my older brother to be a murderer. You'd be a terrible role model."

  "Technically, almost every demigod is a murderer," Luke pointed out.

  "Monsters don't count."

  "It's murder in the eyes of the Mortals."

  "That's because of the Mist."

  "Stop contradicting everything I say."

  "... Okay."

  Luke laughed. "I miss you," he admitted.

  "I miss you too." Lucas felt very awkward. "Um, I should go before a search party is launched."

  "Even if you could hide from them easily?" Luke teased.

  "Yeah. I mean, this is a school. And they have magic. And uh... a drachma can only last so long before Iris shuts the Iris Message down."

  "Fair enough." Luke raised his hand to swipe through the Iris Message. "IM me again when you have the time."

  "I will."

Translations:

Δεν σε εμπόδισε να μου σπάσεις ένα πλευρό το καλοκαίρι. (It didn't stop you from breaking one of my ribs in the Summer.)

βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας. Εσύ Αχθος αρούρης. (Go to the crows. You burden to the Earth.)

Λούσιους Μαλφόι, ορκίζομαι σε όλους τους θεούς, θα σε κάνω να εύχεσαι να μην είχες γεννηθεί ποτέ! (Lucius Malfoy, I swear to all the gods, I am going to make you wish you were never born!)

ψεύτη μπάσταρδε. (Lying bastard.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: Halloween

Soon, October arrived, bringing a damp chill over the grounds and dumping buckets of rain onto the castle. Colds became very common throughout Hogwarts, especially with the Slytherins. But that was to be expected since they lived in the Dungeons. Seriously, what were the Founders thinking? 

  Sometimes it was funny. Lucas remembered vividly the time he had to bully Theo into going to the Hospital Wing to get some Pepperup Potion and when he spiked Zabini's potion to make him breathe fire for a few minutes. It wasn't harmful, and Zabini still recovered from his cold. 

  Every time the Slytherin Team had a practice, Lucas would "let slip" of the date and time to the twins. He didn't think it mattered- even without anyone spying on the Slytherin Team, they were terrible. They counted on cheating, which wasn't a very good technique. The sheer number of fouls in every game the Slytherins played was insane. 

  As Lucas made his way into the castle after he came back from a hike in the Forbidden Forest, he bumped into Ginny.

  "What are you doing here?" Ginny asked.

  "Er, well, I may have snuck into the Forbidden Forest for a bit of a hike," Lucas admitted.

  Her eyes widened. "You what?" she shrieked.

  Lucas winced, then tensed as he heard a distance meow. "We should probably go," he said, dragging Ginny down the hall and into an abandoned classroom.

  "What was that?" she asked.

  "Right, it's your first year here," he muttered to himself. "That was Mrs. Norris. She's Filch's cat. Filch hates all students. If he catches you breaking a rule..."

  "Got it." She took a deep breath. "So, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

  "Told you, I was taking a hike." Lucas shrugged. "I'm ADHD."

  "Oh, don't remind me," Ginny sighed. "It was bad enough with Fred and George. Mum was going crazy. I think she was glad when they finally went here."

  "I can imagine," he replied. Turns out the twins weren't so different from the Stolls. "I have these friends, and they are an absolute pain to manage."

  "What are their names?" Ginny asked.

  "Travis and Connor Stoll," he said automatically. He smirked. "Their last name fits them since they're both pickpocketers."

  "Stole... as in the past tense of steal?" Ginny asked.

  "Yeah. But it's written as s-t-o-l-l."

  "Pretty funny."

  Lucas nodded. "What did you do in the Summer?"

  "Now? You're asking me now?"

  "Yes."

  She huffed. "It was bland for the most part. Then, near the end..." Ginny suddenly blushed fiercely. "Harry Potter appeared. In the middle of the night!"

  Lucas stared at her. "Do you have a crush on him?"

  "What?" Ginny spluttered, going even redder. "I-"

  "So you do have a crush on him," Lucas interrupted. 

  "And if I do?" Ginny asked him, crossing her arms. "What's wrong with that?"

  "It might become an obsession," he warned her. "At least think of him as a person, instead of the Boy-Who-Lived."

  She huffed. "Alright."

  "We could still have some fun with him," Lucas offered. "I heard your brother talking to Potter about a Harry Potter fan club."

  Ginny grinned. "You want us to start one?" she asked.

  "Not really." He grinned in return. "I was thinking that you start one. I'm sure Creevey would be eager to help."

  There was a sudden gleam in Ginny's eyes that sent a shudder down Lucas's spine, and he made a mental note not to anger Ginny. He didn't want to find out what would happen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You've been reading non-stop," Theo complained. "Live a little!"

  Lucas snorted. "What is your definition of 'live a little?'"

  "Well, it'll be Halloween soon," Pansy pointed out.

  "And we all know you love to pull pranks," Daphne added. "I expect someone to be scared to half-death one of these days."

  Lucas grinned. "Oh, someone has been scared to death." He paused. "Not... actual death. Didn't you hear about the Harry Potter fan club?"

  Theo stared at him. "That was you?"

  "Well, I gave Ginny the idea," Lucas replied. "I didn't actually start it."

  "I might just help," Pansy said. "Maybe they could sell action figures of Potter."

  "That dances ballet?" Lucas suggested.

  Pansy closed her eyes briefly as if she was trying to imagine a small figure of Potter come to life and do pirouettes and twirls. She snickered. 

  "Complete with a leotard and tutu," she added.

  Lucas grinned as he found a spell in his Transfiguration textbook.

  "I found a spell," he mentioned casually, looking up at them. "Piertotum Locomotor. Used to bring inanimate objects to life."

  "Does it say anything on the animation part?" Daphne asked, joining in.

  Lucas frowned as he read the passage. "Great," he muttered. "Just great."

  "What?" Theo asked.

  "The animation follows the wand's movement," he explained. "We'd need the wand to be next to the figure constantly."

  "Couldn't we tweak the spell a bit?" Theo asked.

  "Yeah." Lucas nodded. "I'll ask Fred and George. They have experience in tweaking spells. They do it all the time for their pranks."

   "Maybe the figure could be dancing to Swan Lake," Daphne mused, and there was a thump as Lucas failed to grab his textbook because he was too busy laughing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Halloween rolled around, everyone was very excited; anticipating the Halloween feast. The Great Hall was decorated with live bats just like the previous year, and Hagrid's large pumpkins had been carved into lanterns that could probably fit a young cyclops. There was also a rumour going around that Dumbledore had hired several dancing skeletons for entertainment purposes.

  "This year's decorations are better than last year," Lucas noted as they sat down at the Slytherin table.

  Theo snorted. "Magic keeps getting better. Did you hear about that potion? It was in the Daily Prophet."

  "You mean the one that made the drinker fly for a few minutes?" Pansy asked. "It was the one made by Blossom Degrasse, right?"

  "Yeah," Theo said. "I mean, a few minutes isn't impressive-"

  "The fact that she managed to create a potion that enabled flight is impressive," Lucas cut in.

  "It's not really impressive when the Muggles have done it," Theo retorted.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "Because you don't use science."

  "How do they make the aeroplanes fly?" Pansy asked.

  "The four forces of flight," Lucas and Daphne said at the same time.

  "Jinx," Lucas muttered.

  "What?" Theo asked.

  "Nothing." Lucas turned to Daphne. "You want to explain, or should I?"

  "I'll do it." Daphne paused for a moment, before elaborating. "There are four forces of flight. Think of it like this: they are like rules. To achieve flight, you must have these four forces. The first is lift. This is the force that keeps an aeroplane or anything that flies up. The second is weight, the opposite of lift. Weight is the force that pulls the plane down. It's also tied into gravity, which keeps us on the ground. The third force is thrust. This enables a plane or bird to go forwards, and the final force is drag. Drag is responsible for slowing an aeroplane down."

  Theo whistled. "Pretty impressive for Muggles. I mean, they don't have magic."

  "Are Muggles really that far behind?" Lucas asked him. "Sure, they don't have magic, but they're pretty advanced. They don't need candles or parchment. Or quills. They use lights, paper; pens and pencils."

  "... Fair enough."

  They moved onto other topics, and before long, the food appeared on the tables. It was the same as last year- not that Lucas minded. The food was good enough. There were all types of meat and dishes, though they were all British food. Lucas wouldn't have said no to a burger and some fries.

  At the end of the Halloween feast, everyone got up to leave, but instead of going to their respective dormitories, a crowd of people began to head down a corridor. 

  "What do you think they're doing?" Lucas asked no one in particular.

  "Maybe something's happening over there," Pansy suggested. "Let's go check it out."

  "Sure."

  The four of them (Lucas, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne) headed into the corridor, which was a dead end. When they reached the group of people, Lucas sucked in a breath and stopped.

  On the wall ahead, illuminated by the torches were foot-high words painted between two large windows. It read:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: The Message On the Wall

"What's going on?" Filch asked, hobbling over, his voice cutting through the silence. Lucas guessed that he was drawn over by trouble. He always seemed to find it, no matter what.

  Suddenly, he saw Mrs. Norris, and he clutched his face in shock, mouth hanging open in horror.

  "My cat!" he wailed. "My cat! My cat! What happened to Mrs. Norris?" His bulging eyes landed on Potter, who was standing at the front of the crowd.

  "You!" Filch pointed a shaking finger at Potter. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

  "Argus!"

  Dumbledore had arrived. He was tailed by Lockhart, McGonagall, and Snape. They all had different expressions. McGonagall looked concerned, while Lockhart looked positively delighted (probably from the glee that he might become a hero again). Snape, had his usual expression: a sneer. Very surprising.

  Dumbledore passed the crowd and swept Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

  "Come with me, Argus," he told Filch. "You too - Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss. Granger."

  Lockhart came forward eagerly, close to bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  "My office is the nearest, Headmaster - we can use mine - it's just upstairs-"

  "Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore interrupted. 

  The crowd parted to let them pass. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lockhart passed by them; Potter, Weasley and Hermione followed them.

  "What do you think happened to Mrs. Norris?" Lucas wondered out loud.

  "Who cares?" Theo asked. "It'll make Filch miserable, that's all we need to know."

  "Theo!" Pansy snapped. "It's serious! What if what happens to Mrs. Norris starts happening to us? What then?"

  Theo fell silent. Lucas guessed that he didn't know what to say. However, he was still curious as to what happened. Did Mrs. Norris get attacked by a spell or a creature? Lucas thought that a spell would be more likely, as no dangerous creature ever got into the castle. The grounds, sure. But not the castle itself. 

  "I think it might be a curse." Lucas voiced his thoughts. "What else could do that? No dangerous creature can get into Hogwarts."

  "That sounds like the only likely possibility," Daphne agreed. 

  "Who would be that powerful?" Theo asked. "I mean, it must be some seriously dark magic to make Mrs. Norris like that. It was like she was a statue!"

  "Me?" Lucas pointed to himself. "You're asking me? Why?"

  "I don't know," Theo replied. "Because I feel like it?"

  Lucas rolled his eyes and saw Gemma come over to them. 

  "Let's go back to the Dungeons," Gemma said. "It's getting late. Wouldn't want to sleep in, would you?"

  "Yeah," Daphne replied. "Let's go."

  The four of them headed back to the Slytherin Dungeons, each of them lost in thought. Lucas didn't know what the others were thinking - he wasn't telepathic after all - but he was thinking upon the lines of, Not again. When will I get a break?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the next few days, the attack on Mrs. Norris was all anyone would talk about. It was all Lucas would think about. (Maybe except for his school work. That was important).

  Filch, had begun to take his anguish and anger on students. He would yell at students in the hall and give them detentions for stupid reasons, such as breathing loudly or being happy. Lucas had received five detentions in a few days. Well. Lucas had received more in Muggle schools. Five detentions were nothing.

  "Are you doing this on purpose?" Luna demanded. "I swear, every time Filch walks past, you do something that ticks him off. That's it. You're doing this on purpose."

  Lucas shrugged. "What's life without a few detentions?"

  "The term is 'what's life without a few risks.'"

  "A question, Luna. It's supposed to be a question, not a statement. Besides, I want some normalcy. If we're in a magic school, at least I can get detentions. That's normal."

  "... You are so weird."

  "No." Lucas adamantly shook his head.

  "Yes. Normal people try to not get detentions."

  "Well, I'm not normal. Neither are you."

  "More normal than you."

  Lucas threw up his hands. "We're demigods and wizards!"

  Luna's eyes widened and she clapped her hand over Lucas's mouth. "Don't say that in public!" she hissed. "If you have to, you use Ancient Greek!"

  Lucas licked Luna's palm.

  "It's funny how you think that disgusts me." Nevertheless, Luna removed her hand from his mouth.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. I could scream at the top of my lungs and no one would notice. Typical of mortals. They never notice anything. The Mist is amazing."

  Luna just huffed and returned to what she was doing before - trying to see if she could make a rainbow appear above the Black Lake even though it was cloudy. It was just barely working.

  Okay, so maybe Lucas was doing it deliberately. Very, very deliberately. But in his defence, he wanted to see if he could get Ginny out of her silence/shock. She had been very quiet lately. Fred and George claimed that it was because she liked cats, but Lucas wasn't so sure. Ginny acted like she was on a guilt trip. Lucas would do anything to get her to snap out of it.

  Well, maybe not everything. Lucas wouldn't commit suicide. 

  "Oh, who am I kidding," Lucas muttered in the library. "That wasn't funny."

  "What isn't funny?" Hermione asked from beside him. They (meaning Hermione) were trying to find the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. Lucas didn't think that he had ever heard of it. Or maybe he did and he forgot about it.

  "It's nothing." Lucas cleared his throat. "What exactly are you looking for?" Hermione had been scouring the shelves for some time, searching for information on the Chamber of Secrets.

  "Hogwarts: A History," she replied. "I can't find it! I should've brought it with me. Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

  "If I had a copy, I'd give it to you," Lucas said. "But I don't have one. Why don't you check other books?" It was probably their best bet. "Hold on," he said, realizing that they could probably ask the person who built the chamber, as there was probably a painting of them. "Who built the chamber?"

  "Pretty sure it was Slytherin," she replied. "I think he built the chamber to contain a monster or something like that. Why?"

  Lucas's jaw dropped. "Slytherin?" he parroted. "You've got to be kidding me. There's a portrait of Slytherin in the Dungeons!"

  "Shhhh!" Madam Pince exclaimed suddenly. Lucas jumped and rolled his eyes at Hermione's quiet giggles. 

  "So," she said after she had calmed down. "There's a portrait of Salazar Slytherin in the Dungeons?"

  "Please." Lucas gave her a look. "Don't tell me you don't have a portrait of Gryffindor in your Common Room." Noticing how Hermione stayed silent, he said, "Seriously?"

  "Yes, seriously. I guess we can't all be cool like you Slytherins."

  Lucas scowled. "That's an insult. That sounds like an insult." Well, two could play the game. "I guess Gryffindors are just lame."

  "Oh-" Hermione huffed and grabbed a book. Then she stalked towards Madam Pince to borrow the book. When she came back, two minutes later, she grabbed Lucas by the ear and dragged him out of the library.

  Lucas hissed in pain and slapped her hand away. "Ow! What the Hades! The hell did you do that for?"

  Hermione smiled innocently, which didn't quite work. It looked wrong, coming from someone who had no practice.

  "You need to work on your innocent look," he noted, rubbing his ear. "And dragging me out by my ear? Really?"

  "You insulted me."

  "You did it first. It's called karma." He stuck his tongue out at her. 

  "You're so immature."

  "Yep. So, about the chamber. Should I ask Slytherin?"

  "Would he really answer?"

  Lucas grinned. "Hey, I'm a Slytherin. If he's anything like Snape, I'll have him talking in no time. If that doesn't work, well, I can just befriend him and get what I need to know."

  "Alright."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas scanned at the walls, trying to find the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. He knew that it was in the Dungeons. He hadn't lied to Hermione - he had seen the portrait at one time - but he couldn't seem to find it.

  "Where's the portrait of Slytherin?" Lucas asked Theo.

  "It's, uh, beside the portrait of Merlin," he replied distractedly. "Why?"

  "I wanna interrogate him," Lucas said. "Later."

  He walked over to the portrait. Luckily, the Common Room was mostly empty, so no one was going to ask him what he was doing. 

  Lucas came to a stop in front of the portrait and took a deep breath. Calm down, he told himself. Why so nervous? It's just a portrait. Not like it can do anything.

  "Um, are you Salazar Slytherin?" Lucas asked tentatively. 

  "Who's asking?" the portrait responded.

  "My name is Draco Malfoy," Lucas said. He must've not done a very good job of lying, because the portrait narrowed its eyes, and said, "No, it isn't."

  "Alright, it isn't," Lucas agreed. He bit his lips, wondering if he should tell him his actual name or not when something Hecate had told him came up to the surface of his mind: I had a bit of a problem, and these four mortals helped me. The founders of Hogwarts knew that the gods existed.

  "It's Lucas Castellan," he continued. "I'm an, uh, demigod. Son of Hermes. But I go by Draco Malfoy here."

  Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "A demigod, eh? Haven't seen many in my house, what with you all being self-sacrificing and selfless. Some of you are a bit ambitious, but never to the point that you land in my house. The last one... let's see... it was Merlin, I think? Of course, there might have been others between you and Merlin, but..." He shrugged, which surprised Lucas. Who knew that someone as old as Slytherin knew a gesture like that? Not to mention that Slytherin was supposedly anti-Muggle, which Lucas thought shrugging was a Muggle thing. He hadn't seen many people doing it in Hogwarts.

  "Merlin was a demigod?" Lucas questioned.

  "Yeah." Slytherin nodded. "Son of Hecate. Best wizard I ever had the pleasure to teach. He's right beside me. Say hi to him."

  "'Hi to him,'" Lucas deadpanned.

  Slytherin stared at him. "That's not what I - you know what? Forget it. What do you want."

  "I wanted to know about the Chamber of Secrets. The one you made."

  "My chamber?" Slytherin asked. "I didn't think students knew about them. Back when I built it, only Godric, Helga, and Rowena knew."

  "It's known as an, uh legend," Lucas explained. 

  "Legend," he repeated. "Well, I'd hate to hear the legend. Bad enough what they say about me. Add that with the legend of my chamber and I might just... ask for destruction."

  "The chamber?" Lucas prompted.

  "Right. Well, Lucas, despite what you might hear about me, I am not, in fact, an evil, Muggle-hating, wizard. I don't care about blood purity. If you have magic, you have magic. Also, I did appose of having affairs with Muggles, but not in the way you think. The way Rowena said it... it just sounded wrong, like we were to use them for the sole purpose to make sure that there would be students to teach. Like a means to an end. So, of course, like any sensible person, I disagreed."

  "Right." Lucas wondered if what Slytherin said was true, then why did Hecate say the exact opposite? Could Hecate be wrong? But... she was a Titan. The Titan of Magic. Nothing in her domain could be hidden from her, right? Which left only one option left: Hecate had lied to him for some reason. Lucas chose to voice a different question. "What does this have to do with the chamber?"

  "I want to clear things up," Slytherin exclaimed. "I'm tired of being described as an evil, dark, and callous blood purist. I'm tired of being acknowledged with my heir, Tom Riddle. I built the chamber to protect students, not the other way around! Tell me, does that match up with what you've been told?"

  "N-no," Lucas said shakily, caught off guard with his sudden outburst. "How was the chamber supposed to protect students?"

  "A safety feature," Slytherin replied. "A reinforcement, if you will. Of course, there are multiple wards surrounding Hogwarts - most of them were designed by Rowena herself. You might as well be trying to crack a boulder open with your bare hands. The wards have weakened significantly because it hasn't been renewed for a long time, but... they're still pretty strong. Right now, I'd compare breaking the wards to cracking a boulder open with a wooden hammer. Unlikely and tiring, but possible. 

  "Anyway, if you managed to break through most of the wards - the last one, which, arguably, isn't actually a ward - would sound an alarm throughout the castle. That ward has to be gone by now - it was way too weak when I cast it. So, once we were alerted to the threat, we would usher everyone into the chamber. I also hid a Basilisk in there, also to protect."

  Lucas noticed that Slytherin didn't really move. Of course, he had to notice the most stupid things. 

  Slytherin pursed his lips. "Another thing. Have you ever talked to any snakes?"

  "Um, yeah?" Lucas said. "I talk to George and Martha. They're the snakes on my dad's caduceus."

  "You might be able to get into the chamber," Slytherin replied. 

  "Might?" Lucas asked sarcastically.

  "Might," he confirmed. "I designed the chamber so that only a Parselmouth could get in. The password is in Parseltongue, you see."

  "Which is..."

  "A Parselmouth is someone who can talk to snakes. Parseltongue refers to the language that snakes speak. There's a secret passage between the Dungeons antechamber and Entrance Hall side room. It looks like a blank wall with a tapestry over it, but once you say the password, you'll be able to walk directly through the tapestry and into a corridor. At the end of the corridor, there's a set of stairs that leads directly to my office."

  "You're telling me the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," Lucas said, feeling a bit numb. "Why?"

  "Because I know that you'll find out who is behind the attack," he replied, without an inch of doubt. "And if I have to give you the keys to my library to do it, then I will."

  "Li-" Lucas cut him off in shock. "You have a freaking library?"

  "I do," Slytherin confirmed. "The password's Lyra. Remember say it in Parseltongue."

  "How am I supposed to know what it is in Parseltongue?"

  "It'll come to you. And for future conversations, call me Salazar. Or Sal, if you'd like."

  Lucas grinned, feeling like bouncing on his toes. Salazar Slytherin had just told him the password to The Chamber of Secrets. That was worth celebrating. "Of course," he told Salazar, and he walked over to Theo, plopping on the chair beside him.

  "That was a long conversation," Theo noted. "You got what you needed?"

  "Yeah." Lucas still felt giddy. "Oh, my gods. I can't believe he did that. I can't believe I just talked to Salazar Slytherin."

  "Okay?" Theo looked creeped out. "Can you keep your ramblings to yourself?"

  Lucas gave him the finger. "My gods Theo, you are so rude. I'm going for a walk." He got up and walked towards the exit.

  "Suit yourself!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas stilled to a stop in front of the tapestry. Amusingly, it was the crest of Slytherin. How subtle. Of course, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets would be covered by a tapestry bearing the crest of Slytherin. 

  "Okay, the password is Lyra," Lucas mumbled. "How in the name of the twelve Olympians am I supposed to say it in Parseltongue? Come to me naturally my ass." He sighed. He might as well try. 

  "Lyra," he said. But what came out of his mouth wasn't English. It was a raspy hiss. The tapestry shimmered and seemed much paler. It seemed to have worked, so Lucas took a step through the tapestry and entered a corridor like the rest of the castle's, but there was a green and silver carpet covering the floor.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. Typical. But, Slytherin was a proud wizard, so...

  He headed down the corridor, following Salazar's instructions. When he got to the stairs, he drew a shaky breath and darted down the winding stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, he froze, taking in the chamber.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: The Rogue Bludger

Lucas sucked in a breath as he gazed, amazed, at the chamber. Despite its age, it held out well. Some areas had a bit of mould, but overall, it was well kept. 

  There was a lot of green and silver. Of course. Because it was the Slytherin house colours, and probably Salazar's favourite colours. The walls and floors were stone, like the rest of the castle, but it seemed warmer, somehow. Maybe a warming charm or just the fact that it was underground, therefore preventing any cold drafts. 

  The room looked like some sort of a lounge. It had a similar theme to the Slytherin Dungeons, with green and silver couches and chairs. Covering the floor, there was a green and silver carpet with a snake on it. There was also a fireplace, with crackling green flames that Lucas identified as Greek Fire. Wild and unextinguishable. Perfect for staying forever warm. Even if you burn up.

  Lucas walked past the room and entered another one. It looked like an office of some sort. There was the theme of green and silver again, but there was a dark oak desk, with parchment and quills on top. To the side, there was a large bookshelf set against the wall, filled with journals and textbooks. Candles were set on two corners of the desk, to provide light. Lucas wondered if it was possible to bring a lamp into the room to lighten it up.

  Lucas walked towards the bookshelf and carefully pulled a journal off the shelf, feeling as though the delicate binding would fall apart in his hands. The journal was just several pieces of parchment tied together, with a cover. On the cover, it was titled Construction of the Chamber, in neat handwriting.

  He flipped the book to the first page, being careful not to damage the book. Scrawled in neat handwriting, it said:

  Day One: Dug out space for the Chamber with the Gouging Charm. Planned out the layout and got materials. Included an office and space for Lyra.

 The writing continued, in what Lucas assumed was Salazar's handwriting. Lucas wondered who Lyra was. It must've been important if Salazar would put her name as the password and keep her in mind while constructing the Chamber.

  Lucas shook his head. "I should get back before they start looking for me," he mumbled. "Not they'd find me. It'd be a pain to explain, though. I'll come back on the weekend. More time."

  With that thought in mind, Lucas turned around and made his way out of the Chamber, taking great care in not getting caught.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas had completely forgotten that there was a Quidditch Match on Saturday. Theo had to remind him about it.

  "You nervous?" he asked in the morning.

  "No."

  "Excited?"

  "To lose? Yes!"

  Theo gave him a very unimpressed look. "Draco."

  "Theo," he mocked.

  "Oh, for the love of-" Theo sighed. "You are very infuriating."

  "Why, thank you!" Lucas smirked around a mouthful of eggs. He swallowed them, and said, "But really. I'm fine, Theo. Peachy."

  Theo stared at him. "I have no idea what that means."

  Lucas gasped in mock surprise. "Oh, you poor, uneducated child." He snickered at Theo's expression. "It's a Muggle expression, Theo. It means I'm fine."

  "Okay." Theo gave him a pointed look. "At least try. Because if you don't..." He paused for a dramatic effect. "... I'll kill you."

  Lucas rolled his eyes as he saw Flint gesture for everyone on the Quidditch Team to get up. "You can try," he told Theo.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Near eleven o'clock, what seemed like the whole school made their way down to the Quidditch Stadium. It was a steamy day, with a hint of electricity in the air. As the Slytherin Quidditch team put on their emerald green Quidditch robes, Flint began giving them a pep talk. Lucas would've rather called it a rant.

  "Okay." Flint started pacing. "We're bound to win this match. We have better brooms than them. They're quick, agile, and the best model out there. No matter what they throw at us, we will win. We have to. At all costs."

  "At all costs." Lucas scoffed internally. No wonder the Slytherin team had a reputation for cheating. He wondered how many were talked into cheating, and how many would do it without asking. 

  They were the first to come out onto the pitch. Boos from the Ravenclaws, Hufflpuffs, and Gryffindors rang out. It stung a bit, but Lucas quickly shoved it into the corner. It didn't matter whether they liked him or not. Why should he care about what people think of him? If he tried to please them whenever he could, he would never be happy.

  Cheers erupted when the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch, bringing Lucas out of his thoughts. The entire school seemed to be cheering for Gryffindor. Lucas couldn't blame them. With how the average Slytherin treated the other houses, no wonder the entire school hated them. Nobody likes a bully.

  Madam Hooch asked Wood and Flint to shake hands, bringing Lucas out of his thoughts. Again.

  Guess my mind wandered, he thought.

  "On my whistle," Madam Hooch told them, "Three... two... one..."

  The whistle, accompanied by the roar of the crowd, spurred them upwards; Lucas shot under Potter, yelling, "All right there, Potter?"

  Potter had a very disgruntled expression. Well. If Lucas had known he would hate him that early on, he wouldn't have bothered. Still, Quidditch allowed him to keep a closer eye on him. Even if he hated the sport, he'd take it. Made his quest easier.

  Lucas's broom hovered in the air, and he scanned the air for the Snitch while keeping an eye on the Bludgers. He knew his team's Beaters would take care of any that came his way - and the twins wouldn't send one to him. On purpose, at least. Still, it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out for any.

  Suddenly, Lucas saw one of the Bludgers rush towards Potter, and he rushed out of the way. It was a narrow miss - the Bludger had ruffled the hair on Potter's head.

  George rushed towards Potter, ready to block the Bludger if it came back again. Sure enough, the Bludger came back and George swung his bat hard, sending it towards Pucey, but the Bludger turned back midway.

  Lucas frowned. Bludgers weren't supposed to do that - they were supposed to fly around, knocking as many players off their brooms as possible. This Bludger wasn't. It seemed to only focus on Potter.

  Lucas flew near Fred, pretending to be searching for the Snitch without noticing that Fred was there. "Do you need help, or have you got it?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

  "We've got it," Fred replied as Lucas dropped down to avoid the Bludger sent his way. "It's only one."

  Lucas was beginning to believe that Bludger was magnetically attracted to Potter. No matter how far the twins hit it, it always came back, ignoring all the other players. Lucas began frantically searching for the Snitch. If he caught the Snitch, the game would end much earlier, and lessen the chances of Potter getting hurt.

  Rain was now starting to fall, getting into his eyes and making it very hard to see. His eyes stung.

  "Why do we have to play Quidditch in the rain?" Lucas asked himself. "Kind of want glasses now. I mean, sure, it'll be blurry, but my eyes won't sting and I can always charm them to repel water."

  Lucas couldn't see. He blinked several times to get the water out of his eyes, to no avail. He had no idea where the Snitch was or what was happening. It was a miracle that no one had been unseated. Yet.

  Then, Lee Jordan said, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

  Well. Slytherin was in lead. There was no way Flint would yell at him if he caught the Snitch.

  Lucas shook his head. What was he thinking? Why did Flint matter? Potter's safety was more important. Potter's life could be in danger. Quidditch wasn't a safe sport. He had nearly been tossed off his broom the previous year.

  As Lucas searched the air for the Snitch, Madam Hooch's whistle rang, and he followed his team onto the ground sighing with relief.

  "Wood called for a time out," Flint sneered. "Guess the Gryffindors can't handle a little rain."

  Lucas stared at him. A little rain? "It's pouring," he said, stressing the last word.

  Flint said something, but Lucas ignored him, staring at the other end of the Pitch. He hoped Potter wasn't about to do something stupid.

  After a few minutes, Madam Hooch's whistle rang again. Lucas stared at the Gryffindor team in disbelief and horror. Why in the name of the twelve gods were they resuming the game? Wasn't safety more important? Why-

  Lucas gripped his broom tightly until his knuckles were white and swung his legs over, soaring into the air. He once again searched frantically for the Snitch. He really didn't want the game to continue.

  "Gods dammit," he muttered. "Is it that hard to find one stupid Snitch?"

  Lucas could've sworn his heart was about to stop when he saw that Potter was forced to dodge the rogue Bludger, on his own. Fred and George were taking care of the other Bludger.

  "Oh, my gods," he bit out angrily. "There are two Beaters. Why can't they get one to take care of one Bludger and the other person to take care of the other one? Hello! There are two Beaters, not one! Get a grip, people!" He was so busy talking to himself that he didn't notice the Snitch next to his ear.

  But Potter saw the Snitch. His eyes fixed towards him, but Lucas saw the Bludger coming towards Potter. Eyes widening, he surged forward, faster than he had ever flown before and shoved Potter and his broom to the side, away from the Bludger's path. He hung in midair for a bit, which proved to be a very bad idea.

  WHAM! Unable to change course, the Bludger slammed into the side of his chest, knocking the wind out of him. There was a loud crack as one hundred forty-nine pounds of solid iron hit his chest, cracking some of his ribs in the process. Then, it headed for Potter.

  Lucas groaned in pain. He felt like he was going to black out, which wasn't a good idea, considering how high he was. The last thing he wanted was a broken ankle along with his broken ribs.

  He noticed, though, that Potter had managed to catch the Snitch and dodge the Snitch.

  Good riddance. The game can end now. Good thing he didn't get hit. I'd hate to have gotten hurt for nothing. OhFuckItHurtsSoMuchOwWhyDidILetMyselfGetHitStupidStupidStupid-

  "Draco!" Fred rushed towards him on his broom. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah," he groaned. "I've been through worse. I mean, it could be worse. I think my ribs are just fractured."

  Fred winced. "You need to get on the ground. Now. How much pain are you in?"

  "Could we do this on the ground?" Lucas snapped. "I'll feel much better."

  Fred gave him a face that said he was surrendering. They rushed towards the ground, with Lucas's face pinched in pain. When they got to the ground, Fred helped him off his broom.

  "Okay." Fred looked at him worriedly. "How much pain are you in?"

  "I feel like I've been hit with a battering ram," he replied, wincing, just as George landed next to them.

  "Lucas, are you okay?" George asked. "Can you walk?"

  "It's my chest, not my legs!" Lucas snapped. He immediately sucked in a breath. "Ow. Uh, one thing?" he asked as he saw Lockhart coming over, as well as some Slytherins. "If Lockhart tries to fix my ribs, tell him to fuck off. I don't trust him. You two are going to help me to the Hospital Wing, where there's someone who is proficient in healing magic."

  "Yeah, okay." Fred yelled to Madam Hooch, "WE'RE TAKING HIM TO THE HOSPITAL WING!" Somehow, Madam Hooch heard him.

  "C'mon." George slung his arm around Lucas's shoulders, making sure to not grab him too hard. "Let's get you to the Hospital Wing before Lockhart accidentally removes your bones or something like that. Besides, we have something that we swiped off Ginny. I don't think she noticed yet, but... well, she might soon."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"That was stupid," Luna informed him, for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

  "Yes, I'm aware of that, Luna," Lucas replied, careful not to move too much. "I can deal with it. Not the worst I've gotten." His mind wandered to his time on the run.

  "You've- you've dealt with worse injuries?" Hermione stuttered.

  "Oops," he muttered. Then, he raised his voice. "Yeah, I've dealt with worse. I'm a bit, uh, clumsy." That seemed like a plausible excuse. "There was this time when I was lying on a couch and I... I fell off. Crashed into the coffee table too. Got some small cracks in my skull and a concussion." The injuries were true. What Lucas didn't tell her was that he had actually been tossed into a wall.

  "Um, could we get a moment alone with him?" Fred asked, gesturing to him and George. 

  "We have something to tell him," George added. "In private."

  "Yeah, okay." Hermione opened the curtains. "I think they're throwing a party in the Common Room. Wouldn't want to miss all the good food."

  Pansy nodded. "We'll be back tomorrow." She turned to Theo and Pansy. "Right?"

  They agreed with her and the three of them left.

  Luna sighed. "Guess that includes me, huh?" She smiled. "You can always give me the details later. Don't do anything stupid." With that, she left.

  "Don't do anything... I'm bed-bound!" Lucas protested.

  "Please stop talking," Fred muttered. "You'll attract Madam Pomfrey's attention, and then we'll be kicked out so you can have your 'rest.'"

  Lucas glared at him. "I thought you had something to tell me?" he demanded.

  "Yeah." George produced a tattered, black diary from the inside of his Quidditch robes. He placed it on the bed. "We swiped it from Ginny."

  "It's the book I saw Lucius slip into Ginny's cauldron," Lucas noted.

  "So are we worthy?" George asked. "Of being children of Hermes?"

  "You already are," Lucas complained. "You're worse than the Stolls, and that's saying something. Um... could you like, trick Ginny into coming to the Hospital Wing? To like, um, be checked by Madam Pomfrey?"

  "We could," Fred replied.

  "It might be suspicious, though," George added.

  Lucas frowned. "What if you got Luna to do it? She and Ginny are the same age, and they've gotten along with each other quite well."

  Fred and George exchanged grins.

  "It could work," they said at the same time.

  "We'll go ask her, get her on board with the plan," Fred said.

  "Take care," George said.

  "And don't-"

  "Exert yourself."

  "Yeah, yeah." Lucas gave them a long stare. "Shoo. I want my rest."

Chapter Text

Chapter 23: Parseltongue

Lucas honestly felt sorry for Ginny. She had been tricked by Luna into coming to the Hospital Wing, then forced to be examined by Madam Pomfrey. Lucas was sure that Ginny had bruises from where Luna grabbed her. He would've felt guilty if not for the fact that it was necessary. The book could've been cursed, and Ginny had carried it with her for a few months.

Lucas sighed and looked at Ginny. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible," she admitted. "Look, Draco, I..."

"You what?" Lucas prompted gently.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Really sorry." Her eyes welled up with tears. "B-but I didn't want to! I s-swear, I didn't w-want to. H-he forced me!"

Lucas stared at her with confusion. "Wait, wait, wait." He held up his hands. "Back up. Can you explain? You're not really making any sense. Is this from the book?"

Ginny nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I th-thought that someone f-forgot it. T-then, I started writing in it. And T-tom, he... he m-made me do those things. It w-wasn't me, I swear! I-It was all him!"

"Tom," Lucas repeated. "Who's Tom?"

"H-he's the owner of the diary," Ginny explained, calming down. Talking it out had seemed to help her. "He seemed so nice, but..."

"He was manipulating you," Lucas finished. He grabbed the diary and flipped through it. It was blank, but the first page had the words, T. M. Riddle. It was faint, no doubt faded from age, but still discernable. "T. M. Riddle." It seemed vaguely familiar, but Lucas couldn't put his finger on why.

Ginny nodded. "He said his name was Tom. H-he made me attack Mrs. Norris on Halloween and Colin." She looked at the bed beside her, where Colin lay there, gripping his camera.

"I could probably find something on him," Lucas mused. "Poke around, see if I can find anything on him. Um, speaking of finding stuff on him, what house do you think he's in? He might've been a student here or something."

"He was very charming," Ginny said. "And manipulative, but you already knew that. A Slytherin, maybe? But... I mean, he could also be a Ravenclaw."

Lucas sighed. "So, I have to check students in two different houses. Great. Super fun. I should probably ask Luna for help. She's in Ravenclaw, after all. It might be a bit shifty if I ask for a list of Ravenclaw students." Not that asking for a list of Slytherin students was shifty at all. Nope. Not at all.

Ginny nodded. "Tell me who he is when you've got his identity, okay?"

"I will," Lucas promised. He turned to leave the Hospital Wing, as he had already been discharged, but Madam Pomfrey came out of her office.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she exclaimed. "You are not leaving until I give you a full check-up!"

Lucas groaned. Yep. He was screwed. Absolutely screwed. How was he going to get out of this one?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Turns out, he doesn't, because check-ups are tests used to see the history of injuries acquired throughout your life and to check your health; to see if any other problems were missed. Lucas wondered if the Mortals had their own version of one. They never did anything like that at Camp Half-Blood, and they couldn't exactly walk into a clinic to get one. That would raise all sorts of questions. Besides, the thought of having a check-up never occured to him. If he did, it would be when he was still living in a house, but that was unlikely. For as long as he could remember, his mom was insane.

Lucas gulped as he watched Madam Pomfrey read through the long roll of parchment that had appeared when she cast the diagnostic spell. Her expression was becoming more concerned as she made her way down the list. Lucas really didn't want to know what she thought of his health history. Most of them would be old - nectar and ambrosia were good like that - but the old ones weren't healed well. Sometimes they couldn't be treated in time, and they got infected. Granted, that rarely happened, but it still did. And the fractured bones were never actually treated. They just stole aspirin and hoped that it would heal. Lucas wouldn't be surprised if they healed incorrectly.

Madam Pomfrey rolled up the roll of parchment when she finished reading it and fixed Lucas with a stern gaze. "You have quite an impressive list of injuries," she noted.

"I- uh, yes, ma'am," Lucas stammered. He was so not ready for this conversation. He could almost imagine the nervousness radiating from him.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. "You have a few broken bones that were healed incorrectly. Now, that is an easy fix" - she waved her wand, and Lucas felt a tingling through his body - "but the fact that you have them in the first place is very concerning. You've also had septicemia." She paused. "Multiple times. Of course, none of these are new - according to this, the last injury was a few years ago.

"These are very concerning." Madam Pomfrey glanced at him, concerned. "A child as young as you are shouldn't have these injuries. So, of course, I need to know more. Can you tell me a bit about your childhood?"

Lucas stared at her. Oh no. No, no, no. She did not just imply that. Why would she-

He stopped that train of thought. Of course, Madam Pomfrey would connect it with child abuse. What else was she supposed to think? Oh, he must've been chased by psychos for the better part of his life?

He could just picture Madam Pomfrey's face if he said that. That would surely get his mental health checked.

Lucas straightened up and met Madam Pomfrey's stare evenly. He couldn't tell her. He had to make her back off. What people would do if they found out... No.

"I don't see any reason to tell you," Lucas said in what he hoped was a steady voice. "I hardly think that what happens outside of Hogwarts is of your concern."

"We could get you help-"

"I don't need help," Lucas snapped. "I'll thank you to not poke around in my life."

He got up and left the Hospital Wing, taking the diary with him. Madam Pomfrey was left staring at him in shock. Maybe that was a bit overkill. Well, at least it did the job. Lucas didn't think that Madam Pomfrey would be bothering him about this anytime soon.

Lucas stopped in the middle of the corridor. He needed to find Luna. They needed to find out who Tom M. Riddle was yesterday. He had already forced Ginny to attack Mrs. Norris and Colin. Who knew who he was going to attack next? Sure, Ginny was now being treated, but the book could fall into someone else's hand.

He shook his head. What he needed right now was the Maurader's Map. He had no clue as to where Luna was. With that thought in mind, he started walking to the Slytherin Dungeons as quickly as he could.

"Ashwinder," he muttered as he got to the entrance. The stone wall opened, and Lucas darted in. He ignored everyone inside, for the most part, making a beeline to the Boys' Dormitories.

"Well, hello to you too," Theo said as Lucas rummaged through the trunk. "Can't make time for your friends?"

"Sorry," Lucas apologized as he grabbed the map. "I just have some stuff to do."

Theo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what? I'm tired of this."

"Of what?" Lucas asked.

"All this!" Theo looked like he didn't know who to point at. "You disappear for times at once, and you're never honest about what you were doing! I mean, I thought we were your friends? Or is it because you think you can't trust us?"

Lucas stared at him. He obviously hadn't been doing a great job at hiding it. But it wasn't as if Lucas wanted to keep secrets from everyone. True, he had Luna and the twins - and back at Camp, he also had his brother - but that didn't make it any easier. Lucas wanted to just tell everyone - no secrets involved. But he didn't want to imagine the backlash. He knew how the Wizarding World treated people who were different. How would they take the fact that demigods exist? There had to be a good reason why Hecate told him to keep both worlds apart.

"I can't tell you all of it," Lucas said, looking down. "I'm sorry, but I can't." He stressed the word.

"Just tell me a little bit," Theo replied heatedly. "That's all I'm asking for. At least let me know what's going on."

"Okay." He could do that. He just had to tell him about Riddle. Maybe Theo would know something. "Um, so, when I was getting my books at Flourish and Blotts, we met the Weasleys."

"That was in the paper," Theo noted. "What does this have anything to do with you disappearing doing... Merlin knows what?"

"I'm getting to it," Lucas said impatiently. "Anyway, I saw my father slip a black, tattered diary into Ginny's cauldron." He walked over to his bed and picked up the diary. "This book. I was worried since my father was in a bad mood earlier - and we have a ton of dark objects in our manor, so I asked Fred and George to keep an eye on her. They did, and yesterday night, after they asked to talk to me in private, they gave me this." He waved the book in the air. "They nicked it off Ginny," he clarified. "I told them to get Luna to trick Ginny into the Hospital Wing because I didn't know what the book could've done to her."

"And now..." Theo trailed off. "Okay, I'm guessing you got her into the Hospital Wing. What are you going to do now?"

"I need to find Luna," Lucas replied.

"Luna," he repeated. "Luna Lovegood, daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood? Who people have started to call Loony Lovegood?"

Lucas chucked the diary at him, which bounced off his forehead. "Yeah. I want her to help me find out more about Tom Riddle."

"Tom... Riddle?" Theo asked.

"He was the one who cursed the diary," Lucas explained. "He made Ginny attack Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey."

Theo whistled. "That's some seriously dark magic, alright. Shouldn't you turn it in or something?"

Lucas snorted. "What would the professors do about it? No, what would Dumbledore do?" He shook his head. "Last year, a troll got in. Something happened with Quirrel that no one informed us about. What's next? I mean, there's already been attacks going on, and they won't do anything!" Lucas took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated."

"It's fine." Theo bit his lip. "Maybe you should go out for a bit. Calm down."

"Yeah." Lucas picked up the Maurader's Map, tapped it with his wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." Lines appeared on the previously blank parchment, and Lucas grinned, seeing Luna's name near the library. "Yeah, I'll definitely do that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas had ended up asking Luna to help, and then, they had snuck out to the Forbidden Forest to spar. It was the only place suitable for sparring without anybody noticing, and they weren't too worried about the monsters. They had Celestial Bronze weapons, and they were pretty good in a fight. It took his mind off what was happening lately.

They sparred for a few hours until they were covered in sweat and were aching all over.

"Ow," Lucas muttered as he sat down on the ground. "Forgot how much it hurts when you land on the ground multiple times."

"Forgot?" Luna asked.

"Oh, give me a break. I haven't sparred for a while." Lucas plucked a few blades of grass.

"Yet you still beat me a few times."

Lucas shrugged. "Luck? I mean, every time we spar, one of us wins. It's never a tie, but there's no certainty as to who wins."

Luna hummed in agreement. "True. Hey, do you think there are Plimpies in the Black Lake?"

"I don't know." Lucas looked at her. "Why?"

Luna smiled. "Well, I'd like to try my hand at a bowl of freshwater plimpy soup."

"That..." Lucas didn't want to know what it'd look like. "That, uh, sounds... nice."

"It is." She narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I do!"

"Bullshit." Luna tackled him, starting another sparring match.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A week later, a new message had been tacked to the notice board in the Common Room. Slytherins were huddled around the piece of parchment that had been pinned onto the board. As Lucas and Theo headed over, Pansy bounced over to them.

"There's a duelling club now!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I wonder who's teaching it. The first meeting's tonight. Oh, it'll be useful..."

Lucas noticed that Daphne was staring at the note with a look in her eyes that he didn't like. Her lips curled into a grin that was close to feral. Lucas made a mental note to never face her in a duel. He wasn't a coward - but he had self-preservation. He had a feeling that Daphne would be brutal.

"It'll definitely be useful," he agreed, tearing his eyes from Daphne. "I mean, with the attacks, it'd be smart to know how to defend yourself."

The four of them all wanted to go, so they headed up to the Great Hall at eight o'clock. The long dining tables had disappeared, replaced with a long, gold stage that was lined against the side of one wall. It was lit with thousands of floating candles above, and the ceiling was pitch black. Most of the school seemed to be there - all of them clutching their wands and looking very excited. None of them were as hyped as Daphne, though.

"I think it might be Flitwick who'll be teaching us," Theo guessed. "He used to be a duelling champion before he taught Charms."

"He's small," Lucas noted. "Bet that makes it hard to hit him."

Pansy cuffed him lightly on the back of his head. "Be nice."

"It was a joke!"

Lockhart walked onto the stage with deep plum robes, and Lucas groaned. His mood brightened considerably, however, when Snape walked on, with his usual robes of black. If anyone could set Lockhart straight, it would be him. Lucas was pretty sure Snape hated Lockhart with every fibre of his being.

Lockhart waved one of his arms for silence. "Gather round, gather round!" he called out. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has permitted me to start this little duelling club, to train you all up in case you ever need to protect yourself as I have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape." Lockhart flashed a huge smile, and Lucas nearly choked. Assistant. If looks could kill, Lockhart would already be dead. "He tells me he knows a tiny bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a brief demonstration before we all begin. Now, I don't want any of you, youngsters, to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"I'd pay for Snape to kill him," Lucas mumbled to Theo, knowing that Pansy and Daphne would disagree.

Snape was glaring at Lockhart as if he had destroyed his classroom. His lip curled up in such a way that should've sent Lockhart running.

Snape and Lockhart turned to face each other and bowed. Well, Lockhart did, with a lot of hand twirling. Snape jerked his head irritably. Then, they raised their wands, both like how you would hold a sword.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative condition," Lockhart explained. "On the count of three, we will cast our spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"Really?" Lucas drawled. Snape looked like he was about to murder someone. Lucas really hoped that it would be Lockhart.

"One, two, three!"

The two of them swung their arms above their shoulders. Snape shouted the Disarming Charm, and Lockhart flew backwards, smashing into the wall.

Lucas snickered. Some of his housemates cheered. The crash wouldn't have killed Lockhart - he hit the wall with his back, not head, but it would give him a nasty bruise.

Lockhart unsteadily got to his feet. His hat had fallen off, and his hair was sticking up in different directions. Even so, he still looked ridiculously handsome. It was infuriating.

"Well, there you have it!" he exclaimed, stumbling onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss. Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was obvious what you were about to do. If I wanted to stop you, it would only be too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Lockhart stopped talking, which was good. Snape looked like he was a second away from actually casting the Killing Curse on him. Instead, he said, "Enough! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

They worked through the crowd, pairing up students. Lockhart paired Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape made a beeline for Potter and Weasley.

"Time to break up the dream team, I think," he sneered. Lucas was surprised he even knew the words "dream team." His eyes glittered coldly. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter-"

Lucas watched Potter move automatically towards Hermione.

"I don't think so," Snape said with a cruel smile on his face. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss. Granger - you can partner Miss. Bulstrode."

Lucas's mouth dropped. What? He had no problem with being paired with Potter - if it was Weasley, he might've complained - but Hermione with Millicent Bulstrode? Hermione would be in some serious trouble. They might be the same gender, but Bulstrode had to be at least twice her weight.

He walked over to Potter, mumbling "Good luck" out of the corner of his mouth to Hermione. Hermione looked at Bulstrode nervously and gave her a weak smile, which was not returned.

Lucas looked at Potter, who looked at him warily.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart instructed, "and bow!"

Lucas and Potter barely bowed, choosing to incline their heads, keeping their eyes on each other.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents. One... two... three..."

They both swung their arms over their shoulders, but Lucas managed to cast his spell first.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted. The spell wasn't as powerful as Snape's, but Potter's wand flew out of his hand and clattered to the ground.

Potter scowled and grabbed his wand from the floor, yelling, "Rictusempra!"

Lucas dodged the jet of silver light - it hit Zabini, and Zabini doubled over, gasping. His partner, Adrian Pucey, stared in confusion but didn't do anything.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart cried over the heads of the duelling crowd, but it was no use. Lucas noticed for the first time that the entire place was a disaster. Lockhart tried to defuse the problem again. "Stop! Stop!"

Snape came forward and yelled, "Finite Incantatem!" A haze of green smoke hovered over the scene. Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, breathing heavily; Weasley was holding up a pale Seamus, apologizing for what his wand had done. However, Hermione and Bulstrode were still moving - Millicent had Hermione in a headlock who was whimpering in pain. Both of their wands were left on the floor, forgotten. Lucas went over and pulled Millicent off Hermione, which was hard since she was at least twice his size, but it was easier than it might've been.

"Dear, dear." Lockhart swept through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you get, Macmillan... careful there, Miss. Fawcett... pinch it hard, it will stop bleeding in a second, Boot...

"I think I better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart decided, standing in the middle of the hall, embarrassed. He looked at Snape, who looked at him with a gleam in his eyes, and Lockhart looked away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley - how about you?"

"A terrible idea, Professor Lockhart." Snape glided over, his black robes making him look like an oversized bat - or maybe a vampire. Lucas had heard rumours about that. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest of spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox." Neville's face turned even pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" he asked with a cruel smile.

"An excellent idea!" Lockhart announced, gesturing to Lucas and Potter to go into the middle of the hall while the crowd backed up. Lucas had a feeling that something was going to go wrong, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Now, Harry," Lockhart said, "when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

Lucas wasn't sure what the spell was supposed to be. Lockhart raised his wand, made a complicated wiggling action that Lucas was sure would be impossible to memorize, and he dropped it. Lucas snorted as Lockhart quickly snatched it back up, saying, "Whoops - my wand seems to be a little over-excited."

Snape moved closer to Lucas and muttered, "Conjure a snake."

"What?" Lucas hissed. "Conjure a snake? I don't know how to conjure a snake!"

"The incantation is Serpensortia," Snape murmured. "Just point your wand at him and say the word. It's one of the easiest spells to conjure living things."

Lucas wanted to point out that conjuration wasn't taught until much later, but he knew Snape wouldn't listen. Well. It wasn't like he would get in trouble for conjuring a snake. Besides, it'd be fun to mess with Potter.

Potter looked nervous. "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" Lucas teased. He tried not to think about his doubts. One of the first rules of casting spells: the spell will only work if you believe it will work. You can have the word and wand movement correct, but it won't work unless you tell yourself you can make it work.

"You wish," Potter retorted out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Potter cheerfully on the shoulder. "Just do what I did?" Lucas wanted to throw up.

"What, drop my wand?" Potter had just earned himself a new level of respect from Lucas.

Lockhart wasn't listening. Lucas took a deep breath and prepared to cast the spell.

"One... two... three!"

Lucas swung his arm over his shoulder and yelled, "Serpensortia!"

There was a little recoil from the wand as the end exploded. A thick black snake shot out of it and landed loudly on the floor. It raised its head, ready to strike. The crowd screamed, backing off, and Lucas stared at the snake in surprise. Well, that worked. He wasn't expecting it to.

"Don't move, Potter," Snape said lazily. He was obviously enjoying the sight of Potter's discomfort. "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" Lockhart declared. Lucas groaned internally. Yep, things would start to go downhill. Lockhart raised his wand and pointed it at the snake - there was a loud bang; the snake flew ten feet into the air instead of vanishing and landed back on the ground with a loud smack. Furious and hissing loudly, the snake slithered towards the nearest person - Justin Finch-Fletchley - and raised itself, exposing its fangs.

At this point, Lucas wasn't sure what had happened. He ran towards Justin, pulling him out of the way, but he didn't realize that he had run several feet in two seconds. He could feel the stares, but the snake was still getting ready to attack. Then, Potter strode forward and shouted, "Leave him!" The snake suddenly turned docile and slumped to the floor. Potter grinned and turned to Justin, but suddenly the smile slid off his face.

Lucas realized that everyone was still whispering. Only, they were talking about Potter, and they were afraid of him. His superspeed had been forgotten for the moment. Lucas supposed that was a good thing, but the thing was, he didn't know what Potter had done.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin yelled at Potter, storming off.

Snape walked towards the snake and vanished the snake in a puff of black smoke.

Theo, Pansy, and Daphne had walked over to him. "How'd you do that?" Daphne asked. "That was so cool!"

Lucas frowned. "Do what?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," Theo said. "No secrets, remember? Oh, and I also told them about our conversation earlier."

Lucas stared at them. "I honestly don't know what you're asking about." Before they could yell at him, he added, "There are two things you could be asking about!"

"The way you ran," Pansy said. "How'd you do it? One second you were on the stage - and the next, you were pulling Finch-Fletchley away from the snake."

Lucas hesitated. "Not here," he said. "I'm not talking about it here. Not with this many people."

"Alright." Theo led them out of the Great Hall and into the corridor outside, but upon seeing Hermione, Potter, and Weasley there, they headed to the Dungeons.

"So." Theo gave him a look. "How'd you do it?"

"I honestly don't know," Lucas replied truthfully. He had never gone that fast before. Sure, Lucas could outrun a mortal easily, but that was usual for demigods. He was nowhere as quick as Luke, who could run an entire mile in a minute. "I've never done that before."

"Oh, wonderful," Theo said sarcastically. "You're lucky Potter's a Parselmouth. Otherwise, the entire school would be focused on you."

It took a second for that to register in Lucas's mind. "What?" he asked. "Parselmouth. As in someone who can speak Parseltongue?"

"Yes!" Pansy looked at him in concern. "How come you don't know what a Parselmouth is?"

"I do!" Lucas sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Things were starting to become more and more complicated. "I just..." He looked at them. "You can't tell this to anyone. I mean it. You can't tell them about it until I say you can."

"Okay?" Daphne looked at him quizzically. "What's going on, Draco?"

"I didn't realize he was speaking Parseltongue," Lucas told them. "I thought he was speaking English. I... I'm a Parselmouth." It felt good to get even more things off his chest. He knew that they wouldn't think that it would change anything.

Theo's eyes widened. "Yeah, we definitely don't want anyone catching wind of that. If they reacted that bad to Potter, who knows how they'd react to you?"

"Start a witch hunt?" Lucas suggested. "A one-man witch hunt?"

"That's really not funny," Pansy said. "They'd probably accuse you of being the heir of Slytherin. You are a Slytherin."

"Yeah, that'd make sense, if not for the fact that-" Lucas cut himself off. "Nevermind. Hey, did you know that was my first time conjuring something?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How will you stop me?" A pale man with black hair and a blurred figure smiled coldly, twirling Lucas's wand. His green and silver tie shimmered. "You can't. You're only a second year."

Lucas hated him immediately. "I will." He clenched his fists. "I will stop you."

"You can't," he mocked. "How would you stop me, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin? As a Pure-Blood, you shouldn't be stopping me." Riddle leaned forward and whispered, "You have to let the Basilisk purge the castle of the Mudbloods."

The scene faded, and Lucas was enveloped in complete darkness. He spun around frantically, trying to see where he was, to no avail. He felt like he was blind, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Hello?" he yelled, still whirling around. "Anyone?" There was no answer, but a low hissing echoed around him, and there was the sound of something heavy dragged across the ground.

The hissing gradually became louder. "Must kill... must remove the threat... must KILL!"

Lucas jolted awake, covered in a cold sweat and his heart thumping erratically. He sat up quickly, scanning the dark dormitory, almost expecting to be attacked. He eyed the shadows. They seemed like they were moving - monsters that were out for his blood. One seemed like a Cyclops holding a large club, the other almost seemed like a hellhound-

Lucas shook his head. What was he thinking? The wards around Hogwarts would keep any monsters away. Besides, he had a knife with him. He could take on any monster. Maybe not an entire group (if that's what they were called), but a few? No problem.

He snorted as he wondered what his friends would think if they knew he slept with a knife under his pillow. They'd probably think he was a psycho or something like that.

Lucas rubbed his face. He wasn't sure what he was dreaming about. It just didn't make sense. The first half could happen, but he was pretty sure that no place could be in total darkness. Unless he shut his eyes, but his eyes were open in the dream. If he even had eyes when dreaming.

He sighed. "Why can't just have a normal life?" he mumbled. "Away from all of this danger. I should've said no while I still could."

Lucas bit his lip, thinking about what had happened. At first, there was a man, telling him there was no way he'd beat him...

Lucas turned to the black diary lying on the bedside table as he remembered what the man had called himself. Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin. Salazar had complained about Riddle. He had even said his full name.

He shook his head. "I'll check to see when he came to Hogwarts tomorrow after classes." Lucas laid back down and pulled the covers over him. Within a few turns, he was sound asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas stared at the large book. He was lucky that he only had to search through a bit. The diary didn't seem too old - maybe a century or two, which narrowed it down significantly. That meant he only had to look at male students in the 19th and 20th centuries.

He sighed. It had been hard enough to convince Madam Pince to lend him the book. Apparently, it was "super old" and had to be treated with great care. Eventually, Lucas made her cave by promising that he'd be very, very careful with it. Anyway, it wasn't like he would toss it in the air while doing cartwheels or make origami out of its yellowed pages.

Lucas stared at the book. There was no way he was going to flip through it, one page at a time, regardless of how less it already was. What was that spell again? Lucas recalled that Flitwick had said something about a charm that would help you find the part you needed in a book the previous year. He drummed his fingers against the table, trying to think.

"Anazitisi," he muttered. "It was Anazitisi. To seek." Lucas drew his wand and pointed at the book, muttering, "Anazitisi Tom Riddle."

The cover of the book twitched but didn't move.

Lucas glared at the book. "Are you kidding me?" Of course, it wouldn't work. The book was much larger than the book Flitwick had given them to practice the spell on. He pointed the wand at the book again and said with more force, "Anazitisi Tom Riddle." This time, it flipped open and stilled after a few seconds. He looked at the page. Written at the top was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Below it was a brief overview and a picture of him.

Tom Riddle, born on December 31st, 1926. He began attending Hogwarts in 1938 and was sorted into Slytherin. He is an English half-blood wizard. Riddle was given the position of Prefect and Head Boy during his time at Hogwarts, as he was a model student who got perfect marks in every test.

Lucas stared at the page. 1938. Not quite as old as he thought, but he managed to get a date and some background. He noticed the linking word. Is. That meant that Riddle was still alive.

"If he's alive," Lucas muttered, "why does Lucius have his diary? No - why is his diary empty in the first place?"

He shut the book (lightly - otherwise, he'd probably never be allowed to set foot in the library again) and returned it to Madam Pince. He was about to leave when he heard a few Hufflepuffs talking in whispers.

"Yeah, I heard that Potter's a Parselmouth," a blonde-haired boy said.

"You weren't there?"

"No, Cyrus. I was in detention, remember?"

Cyrus nodded. "Right. Forgot about that. It's probably for the best that you weren't. I mean, you're a Muggle-born, right?"

"Shhh!" The boy glanced around worriedly. "Not so loud. Remember when Potter came over to Ernie's group this morning?"

Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes. Why was Parseltongue considered to be an evil ability? It was a tool, like a knife. Would a knife be considered evil? It all depended on the user.

He turned around, only to bump into someone. The book they were holding fell out of their hands, and Lucas caught it out of reflex. It was a transfiguration book.

"Sorry," he apologized, handing the book to the person.

"It's fine," he apologized. "I shouldn't have walked so near you."

"I should've been more careful," Lucas countered. His eyes widened, recognizing him. "You're Diggory?"

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd prefer it if you called me by my first name, though."

"Cedric, then." Cedric Diggory was the most popular boy of his year. He was very tall, with chiselled features, dark blonde hair, and bright grey eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Returning a book." He waved the book in the air. "Seems pretty obvious. You?"

Lucas snorted. "I was looking at this book. It was pretty old - must've been here since Hogwarts's founding. I had to convince Madam Pince to let me borrow it."

Cedric grinned. "She's pretty strict," he commented. "Sometimes it does more bad than good."

"Which is why studying in the Common room is better," Lucas muttered. "Only, I usually study with my friends, and a majority of them aren't in Slytherin."

"Any of them in Hufflepuff?" Cedric asked casually, returning the book.

"You?" Lucas suggested. "I mean, I know we're technically not friends... maybe acquaintances?"

"Friend is fine," Cedric said. "You seem nice enough. Is it too much to ask you to cheer for Hufflepuff?"

Lucas stared at him. "Definitely. How am I supposed to choose who to cheer for? Now, I'll have three houses."

"Three?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not cheering for Slytherin," Lucas said. "Bit of rebellion on my part. Besides, I play for Slytherin."

"Right. The... Seeker."

"Yeah."

"Okay." The conversation was turning very awkward. "I guess I'll see you around?" Cedric asked.

"Yeah." Lucas turned to leave but turned back as a thought hit him. "Does this mean I can ask you for help on my homework?"

Cedric chuckled. "Sure."

Lucas walked out of the library with the intent of finding Ginny. He had promised to tell her when he had found out more about Riddle. Reaching a corner, Lucas stopped. He felt like he shouldn't go down the corner, but he ignored it. It wasn't like anything was going to kill him, right?

When he passed the corner, he was met face to face with a pair of blurred yellow eyes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24: Imposters

Lucas stared at the snake, to whom the eyes belonged. It must've been about forty or fifty feet, if not more. Its scales were a vivid, poisonous green, and it looked much firmer than an average snake's. Around its neck, there was a pattern of white spikes.

  Lucas wondered how the snake got around without being noticed. It was too large to hide. Unless it lived in the Chamber?

  The snake peered at him curiously. "What are you?" it asked.

  "What are you?" Lucas retorted.

  The snake stared at him. "You're a Parselmouth. Maybe an introduction is in order? My name is Lyra."

  "Lyra," Lucas repeated. "Like the password to the Chamber."

  "Yeah." Lyra sounded amused if that was possible. "He always had such high regard of me, unlike Godric. Godric was terrified of me. Rowena thought I might hurt someone, accidentally or not, but Helga thought I was adorable."

  Lucas's lips twitched. "Gryffindor was scared of you? What happened to the brave and chivalrous?"

  "Draco?"

  Lucas turned around. "Cedric?" he asked, recognizing him. "What are you doing here?"

  "I was going to ask if you would be up to some flying on the weekend," Cedric explained. "Then I heard the hissing. Wait." Cedric looked at Lyra. "How are we still alive?"

  Lucas frowned. "What do you mean?"

  Cedric gawked at him. "That's a Basilisk!"

  "What?" Lucas's head swivelled between Lyra and Cedric. "No. No, that's not a Basilisk. There's no way that's a Basilisk. Basilisks are supposed to be small and-"

  "-cute?" Cedric guessed.

  "What? No! Why would you- Basilisks are poisonous and breathe fire. Why would they be cute?"

  "I don't know," Cedric said slowly, "but what you're describing sounds like the Basilisks from Greek Mythology, and those don't exist." He sighed. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if they did," he muttered.

  "Why would you say that?" Lucas asked, furrowing his brows.

  Cedric shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."

  "Try me," Lucas retorted. "You might just be surprised."

  "I... see things," Cedric finally said. "Things that no one else does. Once, I was outside with the twins, and I saw a cyclops. I tried to tell them, but they thought I was joking. No one ever believes me."

  Lucas bit his lip. Could Cedric be a demigod? But, Cedric was in his fourth year. He was fifteen. There was no way he would have survived this long and not have known that he was a demigod. Besides, this close to the Ancient Lands? There was no way an ignorant demigod could survive.

  "He doesn't have the scent that you have," Lyra inputted helpfully. "He seems normal. Tell him. He could help."

  Both Lucas and Cedric jumped. They had forgotten she was there.

  "What?" Lucas asked. "I shouldn't-"

  "You're a Parselmouth?" Cedric interrupted.

  Lucas froze. Oh, Styx. What was he supposed to say? Everyone started looking at Potter negatively because he was a Parselmouth. Lucas was only half-kidding when he said that everyone might begin hunting him down.

  Well. There was no denying it now. Parseltongue sounded like creepy hissing. There was no way Cedric would've missed it.

  "Uh... yeah?" Smooth, Lucas. Real smooth.

  Cedric blinked. "Okay?" He seemed to be okay with it, which was a surprise. Lucas wasn't sure what he expected. Maybe for Cedric to ditch him on the spot?

  "You're taking this better than I expected," Lucas noted.

  "Well, you don't seem like the type to go around killing people," Cedric retorted. "What, should I go around screaming that you're the Heir of Slytherin?"

  Lucas snorted. "That doesn't sound like you," he pointed out. "Screaming is not something I'd associate with you."

  "Okay," Cedric said. "What was it telling you?"

  "Okay, first of all, it's a she," Lucas said. "Second of all, her name is Lyra."

  Cedric nodded. "What was Lyra telling you?"

  "Um, so here's the thing." Lucas tapped his leg, creating a rhythm. "You're not crazy. I'm going to out on a limb here and assume that you know of the Greek Myths." Cedric nodded. "So... uh, these myths exist." He was not good at this. He had never actually had to tell anyone the Greek Gods were still around. "It started in Greece. But the Olympians, their influence moves around. We call it Western Civilization."

  "We?" Cedric asked.

  "Yeah." Lucas started playing with the hem of his shirt. "I'm a demigod. My dad is Hermes. Anyway, Western Civilisation moves around. First, it was in Greece. Then, when the Romans attacked, it moved to Rome. And at the fall of Rome, well, you get the idea. Now, it's in America." Lucas shrugged. "I probably could've explained this better, but I don't listen to this stuff. Probably a bad idea."

  "And how do I fit into this?" Cedric questioned.

  "How do we stay hidden?" Lucas said. "We don't have magic as witches and wizards do. Well, only children of Hecate do. She's the reason the Wizarding World exists. Anyway, she's the Goddess of Magic. But she's also the Goddess of the Mist. That's what keeps us hidden."

  "Like fog?" Cedric looked like he was about to laugh.

  "No, no, no," Lucas said, shaking his head. "Not that kind of mist. The magical kind. It manipulates mortals' sight, so they brush off mythological occurrences and replaces the memories with things that they can comprehend. It can even affect demigods.

  Some mortals can see through it," Lucas explained. "Naturally, children can see through it since they have a more vast imagination-"

  "Are you saying most don't?" Cedric interrupted.

  "What? No! It's just you're very narrow-minded. No offence," he said quickly. "But there are also Clear-Sighted mortals. According to Lyra, that's what you are."

  Cedric stared at him, unimpressed. "According to Lyra?"

  "Well, demigods have this smell. Magical creatures can smell it. Lyra didn't smell it on you, so you must be Clear-Sighted."

  "Okay, then," Cedric said.

  "You're taking this way better than I expected," Lucas noted. "Most people try to deny it."

  "Well, most people haven't been told they were crazy for years," Cedric said. "I'll take the existence of Greek gods over being crazy. Makes sense, anyway."

  Lucas laughed. "Seeing things walk straight out of the myths does make it easier to believe." He turned to Lyra. "Speaking of believing things, is there like, a book on Basilisks?"

  "There might be one in the library," Cedric interjected. "But it would be very suspicious. Madam Pince always seems to ask too many questions."

  "I suppose I'll have to risk it." Lucas sighed. "Not that I'm particularly looking forward to it," he mumbled. How was he going to explain his interest in Basilisks?

  "Salazar had a journal on my kind," Lyra piped up. "It'll probably be in his office. You may have to search through the bookshelf, though. I remember it being brown with gold accents."

  "Thanks," Lucas said. "Hey, uh, Lyra? Why were you attacking Muggle-borns?"

  Lyra tilted her head to the side. "I was told they were a threat and must be purged from the castle."

  "Okay, that's really creepy," Cedric interrupted. "What are you two talking about?"

  "Lyra suggested getting a book on Basilisks in the Chamber," Lucas said. "She explained what it looks like, too, so it should be much easier to find. Then, I asked her why she was attacking Muggle-borns. She said she was told that they were a threat."

  "A-" Cedric choked. "A threat? What- who told her that?"

  "It was a girl," Lyra said. "About eleven. Long red hair and brown eyes."

  Lucas repeated what Lyra said to Cedric in English. "But that sounds like Ginny," he said, frowning. "Ginny's not a Parselmouth. She's doesn't hate Muggle-borns, either."

  "Maybe it's not her," Cedric said hopefully. "I mean, it could be someone who looks like her but isn't her."

  Lucas bit his lip. "Looks like her, but isn't her." Ginny had been writing in the diary at the attacks. She had practically confessed to being influenced by Riddle and forced to attack. What if Riddle was a Parselmouth?

  No, that was wrong. Riddle had confessed to being the Heir of Slytherin in his dream. Lucas didn't see how Riddle would influence Ginny, but magic could do a lot of things.

  "I'm going to check out that book," Lucas decided. "I'll see you later. And Lyra? Please stop trying to kill Muggle-borns. They really aren't a threat."

  "Alright," she replied. "I can do that."

  "Lyra isn't going to be attacking anyone anymore," Lucas told Cedric. "I'm also open to a friendly Quidditch Match. Αντίο!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas pulled the journal from the bookshelf. True to Lyra's words, the journal was brown, with gold accents. However, the word Basilisk was silver.

  He opened the cover and began to read the first page.

  The Basilisk, nicknamed the King of Serpents, is the most fearsome and deadly beast known to witches and wizards. This snake, first bred by Herpo of Corinth, Son of Hecate, is a cross between a Basilisk and a Drakon. It is born from a Basilisk's egg, hatched underneath a Lydian Drakon. It can reach gigantic size and live to be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. Its methods of killing are dangerous, as its fangs carry a potent poison that kills within minutes, and its sight alone can kill instantly when the victim is fixed with the beam of its eyes. Spiders flee from the Basilisk, as it's their mortal enemy, and Basilisks retreat from roosters, whose crowing is fatal.

  Lucas shut the book and placed it back on the bookshelf. "That's just lazy," he muttered. "Why would you keep the name the same? I mean, it looks like a larger version of the Basilisk, but it can't be that hard to give it a different name."

  Shaking his head, Lucas headed back up. At least no one was actually going to be attacked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Christmas Break neared, everyone was scrambling to book seats on the Hogwarts Express to go home. Lucas wouldn't have thought that everyone was that nervous, but he supposed the long period without anyone being attacked would make anyone nervous. Soon, it was just him, Theo, Pansy, the Golden Trio, the twins, Ginny and Percy.

  "I would stay," Daphne said. "I mean, I know there's no threat anymore, but I have something to do that I think would work out better if I was accompanied by my mother. Besides, it's been a few months since I've seen Astoria."

  "You'll tell her we said hello, right?" Pansy asked.

  Daphne grinned. "Definitely."

  Part of Lucas was glad that people were giving their attention to Potter. They would whisper and point at him as if he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison.

  The twins, however, started joking around with the matter. They would escort Potter around, yelling, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."

  Lucas found it very amusing. It meant that they didn't think Potter was the Heir of Slytherin and chose to make it a laughing matter. Others, however, didn't find it so funny.

  Percy was disapproving of the twins' actions and would take every chance to tell them to stop.

  Zabini wasn't too happy, either, often standing to the side and scowling whenever Fred asked who Potter would attack next or when George pretended to ward him off with a clove of garlic. In fact, he looked incredibly sour.

  "I wonder how many lemons he's eating," Lucas often joked whenever he caught the look on Zabini's face. "He looks like he has eaten at least three."

  "Doesn't look too good on him, does it?" Theo said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When the term finally ended, a silence described as almost peaceful descended on the castle. Lucas enjoyed how the Slytherin Dungeons became nearly empty. It meant that he could do things with Theo and Pansy without disturbing anyone. Part of him wished that Luna was there too, but she had gone home for Christmas to visit her dad. Lucas understood it. If he could, he would go to Camp Half-Blood during the holidays. Unfortunately, that would raise all sorts of questions. Lucas really didn't want to deal with that. He didn't want to come up with lies for the entire camp, plus his friends at Hogwarts. They'd ask for details on what he was doing during the holidays.

  On Christmas morning, it was close to freezing. Lucas was glad that he had worn his sweater to bed, or he would've been frozen to death. Maybe. He would hate to go out that way.

  Lucas was still debating whether to get up or go back to sleep when Theo woke up and falls off his bed.

  He snickered, sitting up. "You fell off?" he mumbled. He tried to hold back a yawn but failed.

  "It happens," Theo grumbled from his position on the floor. "Oh damn, that's cold."

  Lucas stared at him, bleary-eyed. "You're only finding that out now?" Part of him wondered if Theo's nerves were frayed. Either that or his reaction time was slow.

  "Yes." Theo's voice was still muffled. "Not sure if I want to get up, though."

  Lucas kicked off the blankets and slid off the bed. "Do you need help?" he asked, putting on his sneakers. "It's Christmas." After a few moments, he added, "By the way."

  That seemed to be all that was needed to get Theo to sit up. He got up as fast as he could and quickly changed into robes. "Are you changing?" Theo asked.

  Lucas glanced down at his clothes: a blue sweater and jeans. "Nah," he said. "I'm fine." He paused and said, "This is considered regular clothes."

  "Which you sleep in," Theo said.

  Lucas shrugged. "Why do you insist on wearing robes? They're clumsy and hard to move in." Wearing clothes that he would wear during the day was an old habit that he had never managed to shake. It allowed him to get up quickly and leave at a moment's notice.

  "Not sure," Theo replied. "Daphne got me cookies. They're homemade. Wait, homemade?" he practically screeched after a pause. " She went home for Christmas to make bloody cookies!" He looked at Lucas, a goofy grin on his face. "She made cookies! Sugar cookies."

  "I hear you," Lucas said. He rubbed his eyes. "Is it wrong that I want to go back to sleep? I think it is. I don't think I got enough sleep. You know what? Right now, I want a big fluffy blanket that I can wrap myself in." He yawned again. "My current one isn't warm enough."

  "Maybe one of your presents will have a blanket," Theo joked.

  "Maybe," Lucas agreed, barely glancing at the pile of presents in front of him. Instead, he headed towards his trunk to dig out his gift for Theo and Pansy. "Here," he said, handing one of the gifts to Theo.

  "Thanks," Theo replied, taking the gift and unwrapping it. Inside was a book on magical objects since Theo liked learning about the different things and how they were made.

  "No problem." Lucas tossed the other present onto his bed and started opening his presents. The first one was from Lucius and Narcissa, who had given him new robes. They looked pretty expensive, which he would expect from them.

  The second one was from Luna, who had given him an amulet with a black cord. The talisman was a small silver snake coiled around a thin golden sword. The snake had scales etched on it and emerald green eyes. Included was a note:

Hey Lucas,

  I saw this in a muggle jewelry store, and I thought you might like it. The snake is for your house; the sword for your godly parent. I also jinxed the pendant so it would knock back anyone who tries to attack you. It's not too powerful - only a simple Knockback Jinx, but it'll give you a chance to see whether they're a threat and if so, you'll be able to take care of them.  😃

Skittles

"To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; but where there is true friendship, there needs none." -Timon of Athens.

  Lucas huffed, shaking his head and put on the amulet. "Shakespeare," he muttered. "I swear, sometimes I feel like you've read every single play."

  The next one was from Daphne. She had sent a box of homemade triple chocolate brownies, which were decorated with chocolate icing. On the top of each brownie, Daphne had also used vanilla icing to draw a Thunderbird.

  Fred and George had sent a box of Dungbombs. Lucas didn't know what he'd use them for, though. Technically they were banned, but since when did Lucas let rules stop him? Maybe he could set one near Filch's office or in it.

  The next one was from Hermione, who sent him a journal to take notes in. It was helpful, but Lucas doubted that he would be taking notes in it. Well, class notes, anyway.

  Ginny's was a set of Gobstones, along with a long letter thanking him for stopping her. Lucas glossed over most of it, as it kept repeating, but couldn't help himself from smiling as he read it.

  The following gift was from Luke. He had given Lucas a set of bronze and grey ballpoint pens along with a note telling him to please stay alive and that as Luke was writing this, their siblings were drawing lots to see who would get to send a present to Lucas next year.

  Lucas had just finished opening Annabeth's gift (one of those practice books that allowed him to keep up) when Pansy decided to enter and toss his present at him. Theo had also done the same thing, so Lucas had to catch both of them. At least he had actually grabbed them. Well, barely.

  "Nice reflexes," Pansy commented, sitting on Lucas's bed. She tossed Theo's present to him and picked up her own, ripping off the wrapping paper carefully.

  "Thanks." Lucas opened the package, which contained Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and Treacle Fudge. "Next time, could you two not throw them at the same time? Or, you know, hand them to me like a civilized person?"

  "I'm sure we will," Theo replied distractedly, opening his gift from Pansy. "Thanks, Pansy. I love the candy."

  "You're welcome," she said. "How much did you pay for these bracelets?" she asked Lucas.

  "About one Galleon and one Sickle, I think?" Lucas began cleaning up the wrapping paper on the ground. He had seen it at a jewelry store during the summer and thought Pansy would like it but refrained from giving it to her immediately. They were gold, and each looked different. He had also stolen it from the store, but she didn't need to know that. "Pretty cheap, but it's real gold."

  "Wow." Pany slipped all four of them on. In order, one of them had a knotted heart, one of them had olive leaves, the next had a feather, and the last one had an arrow. "They're pretty."

  "I almost got you a bracelet but decided against it," Theo commented. He gave Pansy her present. "I got you a dress."

  Pansy opened the package and grinned. "I love it! Thank you so much!"

  Lucas glanced at the dress and scoffed. "Green? Really?" The dress was emerald green and knee-length, with lace at the top.

  "House colour," Theo said as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. Either way, green did look good on Pansy. "Besides," Theo said, "it goes well with the bracelets you gave her."

  Lucas hummed in agreement. Green and gold did go together well, especially emerald green and gold.

  "Too bad I can't wear it now," Pansy said. "I mean, it does have sleeves, but it's too thin. I'll freeze to death."

  Lucas snickered. The sleeves stopped at the elbow. Forget being too thin - the sleeves just weren't long enough.

  "Lucas, could you help me-"

  "I'm not helping you clean up your mess," he warned Theo. "So don't ask."

  "And if I leave the mess?" Theo asked, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Lucas flipped him off. "I hate you," he announced. "Now you're trying to manipulate me into cleaning up after you. I really hate you."

  Theo stared at him. "Riiiiiiight."

  That seemed to be all that was needed to set them off. The three began laughing, not planning on stopping anytime soon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If he was being honest, the thing Lucas most enjoyed about Hogwarts was probably the feasts. No matter what was on someone's mind, there was no way anyone could fail to enjoy them. It was even better on the break, where there were fewer people to compete with. The feast had the same amount of food, with fewer people.

  Like always, the Great Hall was decorated so that it looked magnificent. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung across the ceiling, and a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees were placed behind the Staff table. In addition to that, warm and dry enchanted snow drifted down from the dome.

  Dumbledore had led them in a few of his favourite carols during the feast - Hagrid sang louder and louder with every goblet of eggnog he drank. Personally, Lucas didn't like eggnog - it smelled and tasted horrible.

  "Where did you get that?" Pansy asked, pointing at the amulet Luna gave him.

  "Huh?" Lucas glanced at his chest. "Oh, that. That was Luna's present for me. She also jinxed it with a Knockback Jinx so that anyone who attacks me will get knocked back."

  "An amulet," Theo guessed. "That's cool." He shook his head. "Ravenclaws. They only teach the Knockback Jinx in our second year."

  "Reading ahead isn't necessarily a bad thing," Lucas countered. "Whether you understand it or not is a whole other thing. There's no use in parroting the textbook."

  "Hermione does that a lot," Pansy mused.

  "She has?" Lucas asked. "Huh. I never noticed. Then again, I'm not the one who has memorized all of our textbooks cover to cover."

  Theo snorted. "You've been her friend longer than us, and you haven't realized? How 'bout when you're staring at the textbook she's quoting from? Do you still gloss over it?"

  "Yes." Lucas glared at them. "Okay, I'm unobservant. So what?"

  "So, you were complaining about the thing Granger does," Pansy replied.

  "I wasn't complaining!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Lucas had finished eating, he headed to the Owlery to send a letter to Luna. He wanted to thank her for the gift. Hopefully, she liked the present Lucas gave her, too. He had given her a sketchbook since she often drew/sketched.

  When he had sent the letter off with one of the school owls, the family owl swooped in and dropped a letter off. Included with it was a newspaper cutting from the Daily Prophet.

  Lucas opened the letter. It said:

Draco,

  I have enclosed a cutting of the Daily Prophet. This should make your day.

Your father

  Short and brief. Lucas wondered what the point in sending the newspaper cutting was and how it would make his day. The Daily Prophet wasn't that interesting. At least, that was what he thought. It turns out that the article was of importance.

ENQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was fined fifty Galleons today for bewitching a Muggle car.

  Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry governor, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.

  "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw upon laws, and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

  Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off, or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

  Lucas swore colourfully under his breath. Of course, Lucius would think that it would make his day. He had probably heard of his rivalry with Weasley, even if Lucas had never told him about it. That wasn't to say that he wasn't upset because he was. Lucas was friends with the twins and Ginny. It would be hard to not feel upset on their behalf.

  Lucas shoved the clipping into his pocket. He very much wanted to rant. Theo and Pansy probably wouldn't appreciate it, but he just needed to let some steam out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas found Theo and Pansy wandering in the Dungeons, seemingly lost. That was weird because they wouldn't be lost, especially not after a year and a half.

  "Hey," he said, walking up to them. "Lost your way?" He noticed that Percy was there. "Sorry, Percy... Can I call you Percy? I'll just drag these two idiots to our common room." Without waiting for Percy to reply, he grabbed Theo and Pansy by the arm and dragged them unceremoniously to their common room, saying the password ("pureblood") as they entered.

  Lucas gave a laugh that felt very strained. "You two are so lucky I found you. He looked like he was about to give you two detention!"

  "Haha," Theo said bleakly. Lucas stared at him, trying to figure out why it felt so wrong. Maybe it was because they were acting weird? They could take a laugh and joke, but they just weren't the type to appear odd just for laughs. Which meant that they weren't Theo and Pansy. Lucas wasn't sure what they used to accomplish that. Transfiguration? Polyjuice?

  Nevertheless, Lucas played along. "So, what were you doing there? Did you really get lost?"

  "Yeah," Pansy said. "What's wrong with that?" She sounded very defensive, which wasn't like her. It made Lucas even more suspicious.

  "Nothing," he muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled cutting, thrusting it at them. "My father just sent this to me. Take a look." Their reaction would confirm who they were. If one of them (or both - most likely one) was a Weasley, they would be upset at the article. The twins weren't likely to pretend to be his friends - they were more likely to just sneak in, as Lucas wouldn't bother to keep them out - and Ginny just wasn't the type to do that type of stuff. Percy was out of the question. One, Percy was patrolling the corridors. Two, he would never break any rules, even if his life depended on it. Which left the youngest brother.

  Pansy took it and read it over. Her eyes widened, and she forced out a laugh, handing it to Theo. Theo took it with barely a glance, and when he was finished reading, he handed it back to Lucas.

  Lucas grimaced. "I feel bad for them. I mean, their father enchanted the car, yeah, but I don't think he was planning on using it. Weasley and Potter had to get him in trouble by stealing it." Lucas noticed that both Theo and Pansy were glaring at him, though he pretended not to see. "Although," he continued, "if I were them, I would definitely steal a car." Ignoring their shocked expressions, he plowed on. "Maybe not a Ford Anglia. I'd steal something flashier, of course. A Pontiac or a Ford Shelby Mustang. I wouldn't object to stealing a Cadillac, either." Lucas took in Pansy's bewildered expression and Theo's open mouth. "What?"

  "Nothing," Theo said quickly while Pansy stared at him like a deer in headlights. That was fair. It wasn't every day that he was that harsh with them. Besides, he suspected they were Potter and Weasley. When he had "blamed" Potter and Weasley, Theo and Pansy looked furious. They had good reason to be if they were Potter and Weasley.

  Lucas shook his head. "Poor Ginny. With the attacks and the diary, and now her father's been fined." He pursed his lips. "She just can't seem to catch a break."

  "So, do you know who's behind the attacks?" Theo asked.

  Lucas frowned. "Yeah," he said. "We've discussed it, remember? I told you the morning after I came back from the Hospital Wing. Ginny was being manipulated by that diary, remember?" He watched as they struggled with the new information. Pansy's mouth hung open in a very unladylike manner, and Theo's brows were furrowed.

  "Wha- oh, yeah!" Theo exclaimed in a poor attempt to cover up his confusion. Lucas saw straight through it. Well, it was a good attempt. If Lucas didn't realize that they weren't his friends early on, he might've assumed that Theo had just forgotten.

  Lucas eyed them both, enjoying how they squirmed under his gaze. He smirked. "I suppose you two will be leaving, now that you've received the information you need. Potter. Weasley." He laughed at their wide eyes. "What, you thought I wouldn't notice? Please. Theo, Pansy, and Daphne the friends I spend every day with. I know them more than I know anyone else. Well, except for Luna, but she's not in the same house as me." He also knew Luke and Annabeth pretty well, but he couldn't exactly say that, could he?

  He brushed past them and turned back around. "You wouldn't happen to know where you stashed my friends, would you? I'd like them back, thank you very much"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas snickered as he woke Theo and Pansy up. "You two were slipped a Sleeping Draught," he cackled. "By Potter and Weasley, no less."

  Theo groaned as he sat up, dazed. "Merlin's beard," he muttered. "I would not recommend being slipped a Sleeping Draught. It's just... not nice."

  "Not nice," Lucas mocked, a big grin on his face. "That's all you have to say?"

  "What time is it?" Pansy asked.

  "Eh, it was pretty late," Lucas replied. "What?" he spat, seeing their annoyed expressions. "It's not like I keep an eye on a clock 24/7."

  "Okay," Pansy said, holding her hands up. "How about this: is it past curfew yet?"

  "I don't think so?" Lucas said. "We should be careful, either way. Not everyone knows the attacks have stopped." He frowned. "They'd probably find three Slytherins wandering around at night suspicious."

  "We're going to get caught, aren't we?" Theo muttered.

  Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You have so little faith in me. This is what I do! Sneak around and not get caught. Have you actually seen me get detention? Or heard?"

  "Continue being that loud, and we will get caught," Theo hissed. "There could be a prefect right outside!"

  "We're not going to get caught," Lucas assured them. "Just relax. Keep eyes and ears out for Prefects and professors. When necessary, run. Especially if Mrs. Norris sees you. Otherwise, just hiding is fine. If we're lucky, we won't run into anyone and our reputation will be fine."

  All in all, it went pretty smoothly. Lucas, Theo, and Pansy had nearly run into a prefect, but the prefect had turned to go into a different corridor, so they made it back to the common room in one piece. Pansy had decided to turn in for the night, as she wanted her "beauty sleep."

  Theo flopped onto his bed. "I am never sneaking around ever again. I don't know how you stand it."

  Lucas laughed. "C'mon, it's exciting! Even you have to admit that. You never know who's around the corner or who you'll have to run from. That's what makes it fun!"

  Theo groaned. "Mental, you are."

  Lucas suppressed a smile as he took off his amulet and aimed it at his trunk. It was slightly off - it hit the edge and fell in, but at least it got in the case. He wasn't about to sleep with that on. It would press into his skin and cause marks.

  He glared at the trunk and climbed into his bed. He closed his eyes, hoping that this time, he wouldn't receive a dream/vision.

Translations:

Αντίο! (Bye!)

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: Theft of the Diary

Lucas really should've kept a closer eye on the diary. At the very least, he should've stashed it in his trunk. But, no. He had to leave it on the bedside table, where anybody could've stolen it. Why it took so long, Lucas would never know.

"I'm stupid," Lucas muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Anyone could've taken it. Well, any Slytherin. Students from other houses wouldn't know the password, and they certainly wouldn't know about the diary. Why would they break in just to steal the diary, anyway? It had to be a Slytherin.

"Lucas, what..." Theo's eyebrows were furrowed. "What are you doing?"

Lucas gave up trying to search for the diary. He wasn't getting anywhere. "I was trying to look for the diary. It's gone."

Theo sighed and levelled Lucas with a look, lips tightened. "I can see that. How did you lose it in the first place?"

"I was being stupid." Lucas huffed. "And before you say it, no, I didn't misplace it. It. Was. Stolen. There's nothing else that could've happened to it."

For a few moments, Theo didn't talk. Then, he said, "... We're in serious trouble, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Lucas replied, wincing. "That diary started compelling Ginny to tell Lyra to attack Muggle-borns. Someone writes in it - the attacks start again."

Theo frowned. "Lyra?" he asked.

Lucas glanced at him. "Yeah, Lyra. Didn't I..." He trailed off once he saw Theo's expression. "Oh, Styx." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, so I forgot to tell you. Lyra... she's a Basilisk. The Basilisk that lives in the Chamber, to be exact."

Theo stared at him. "Lucas, please tell me you're joking."

"Nope!" Lucas grinned. "Don't worry, Lyra isn't attacking anyone. She just thought the Muggle-borns were a threat to Hogwarts. But I've got it sorted out. No more attacks." He sighed. "Well, until someone else gets manipulated by the diary. We need to find that diary, like, yesterday."

Theo frowned. "Okay," he said. "I have no idea what that means, but... okay. Just... calm down. You're not alone in this. I'll try to find Pansy and Daphne, and you can go get... your other friends."

Lucas nodded and darted out of the dormitories, passing many Slytherins in the common room. He decided to go get Ginny, the twins, and Hermione first. They were all in the same house, and it was early, so he didn't have to run around the castle looking for them.

When Lucas arrived in front of the Fat Lady, he just stood outside and waited for someone to come out. He didn't know the password, and he wasn't about to guess. That would be taken as breaking and entering, and he really didn't want Slytherin's reputation to become even lower. It was bad enough as it is.

"Are you coming in or not?" the Fat Lady asked. "I haven't got all day, you know."

Lucas flinched and turned to look at the painting. He could hear and feel his heart pumping wildly. "Oh my gods," he muttered. "Don't do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," she apologized. "But are you coming in?"

"Oh, no, no." Lucas shook his head. "I... I'm a Slytherin. I'm just going to wait until someone comes out so I can ask them to tell my friends to come out."

"Inter-house relationships." She smiled, nodding. "Excellent. Inter-house relationships don't occur often enough, much fewer ones between Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"Er, thanks." Lucas scratched the back of his head. He backed up to the wall, waiting for a Gryffindor to come out.

Lucas tapped his foot and started playing with the hem of his sleeve. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the painting swung open, and Neville came out.

"Hey," Neville said. "Haven't seen you much."

"Asides from those lessons," Lucas added. They weren't too close, but Lucas had promised to teach him some self-defence in their first year, and he had kept it. It had boosted Neville's confidence, but Neville was still pretty timid and jumpy.

Neville nodded and cleared his throat. "Er. Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah." Lucas tapped a rhythm on his knee. "Um, if it's not too much trouble, could you get Ginny, Hermione, Fred, and George?"

Neville inched back towards the painting. "Sure," he said. He paused in front of the Fat Lady. "Um." He blinked. "What's the password again?"

Lucas sighed, rolling his eyes. The Fat Lady pursed her lips, staring at him.

Neville frowned, biting his lip. After thinking for a while, his eyes lit up. "Uh, I think I got it! Is it Bowtruckle?"

The Fat Lady smiled, and her portrait swung open. Lucas watched Neville climb through, stumbling, and walk towards someone (presumably the twins, Ginny, or Hermione).

"I hope you aren't planning on giving me the same password to break in," the Fat Lady said as her portrait swung close, frowning.

Lucas's head snapped towards her. "Uh, no, ma'am," Lucas said quickly, wringing his hands. He cracked a small smile and added, "If I was going to break in, I would've done so already."

"That's not a very good thing," Hermione noted, climbing through the portrait hole. She was followed by Ginny and the twins.

Lucas clamped his mouth shut, trying not to laugh, but failed. He chuckled, eyes gleaming. "Do you even know me?" he cackled. "Doing not good things is what I do!" He grinned. "Anyway, the diary's been stolen."

Ginny stared at Lucas with an expression that reminded Lucas of a deer in headlights. Her face was pale, and her fists were tightly clenched - so tight that they were white. "What?" she whispered. It was like if she said it any louder, it would be true.

Lucas grimaced. "Yeah..." he sighed. "I woke up this morning, and it was missing. It might be nothing, but just in case... well, I want to discuss it, try and see if we can narrow it down. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's a Slytherin, but other than that..." Lucas shrugged.

"Okay," Hermione said. "Is there anyone else that's coming along?"

"Well, there's Luna, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne," he replied. "Luna's probably outside right now, running laps around the school or searching for creatures." He didn't mention that her hunt for creatures would most likely take place in the Forbidden Forest. That wouldn't bode well.

"I could lead them to that island," Hermione volunteered. "That was where we met up and talked last year."

"Yeah, okay." Lucas smiled and nodded. The five of them headed outside, and when they stepped foot outside of the castle, Lucas split off to run around the grounds trying to find Luna. He hoped she wasn't in the Forbidden Forest. That would take way too long to find her.

Eventually, Lucas found Luna by the Great Lake, doing Zeus knows what. She seemed to be just sitting there, not really moving.

"Luna?" Lucas moved towards her, laughing nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Huh?" Luna's head snapped towards his, shoving something to the side. "Oh, I was just doing something."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Something," he repeated. "Is there a reason as to why you're being very evasive?"

"Uh..." Luna fiddled with the edge of her bronze and blue Ravenclaw scarf. "No. Nothing. Nothing at all." She smiled at him.

"Right," Lucas drawled. "Well, we're having a... well, meeting of sorts. Um. I may have done something stupid."

"What did you do?" Luna asked, looking very calm. That was one of the things Lucas liked about Luna. She was almost always civil. You could say whatever you wanted, and Luna wouldn't judge you or get mad. She would give you her honest opinion - she had a knack for telling the truth, even when no one wanted to admit it.

"I..." Lucas cleared his throat, looking at the ground. "The... uh, I may have left the diary out in the open. And... it, uh... it may have been stolen." He scratched the back of his head.

Luna looked at him. "How do you steal from a kleptomaniac? I really need to take notes. I mean, I've been trying this for years, and now some random person does it?" She shook her head.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Maybe it's your ineptitude to steal anything." After a moment's pause, he added, "Or lie."

"Using big words now, are you, Lucas?" Luna teased, getting up. She had a large grin on her face. "Okay. Where are we meeting up?"

"The island," Lucas replied, pointing at it. "Hermione and I would have chats on that island last year."

Luna stared at him. "But how would we get there? There aren't any bridges or anything that we could use to get there."

Lucas snorted. "That was what Hermione said. C'mon, I'll show you how we got there." He grabbed her hand and dragged her a few meters left of where Luna was previously sitting. Noticing that he was holding her hand, he quickly dropped it and pulled out his wand.

"So," Luna said. "What are we trying to do?"

"The merpeople actually showed it to me," Lucas explained. "You know how the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons? We have this 'window' in the common room. Well, it's basically a slab of unbreakable glass that takes up nearly an entire wall, but it, uh... it gives us a view directly into the lake." He grinned. "It was put there sometime after the founders, but..." Lucas smiled again. "The merpeople weren't too happy about it at first, but when sign language started to be used in Europe - around the 1600s or so - some Slytherins taught the merpeople it, and, well... they started communicating with BSL. It's now a tradition for every Slytherin to learn and know BSL."

Luna huffed. "Why do I never get to see you like this?"

Lucas snorted. "Yeah, well..." He chuckled. "I never really got to get into detail about some stuff. Annabeth talked everyone's ear off with architecture facts. I decided to spare everyone the pain." He tapped his wand to the water and muttered, "Dissendium." The water split, just enough for one person to slip in. Beneath it was a wooden trapdoor and a rusted ladder covered in dust. There were footprints and handprints, but it wasn't enough to get rid of the dust entirely.

"I like it when you get like that," Luna commented. "It's adorable."

Lucas ducked his head, feeling his cheeks burn. Instead of replying, he dropped down into the tunnel, not bothering to use the ladder. It was rusted, and touching rust was never a good idea.

Luna dropped down behind him. Turning around, she muttered a quick, "Reparo," before turning back and following Lucas. "You should've fixed that," she scolded him. "What if someone had gotten hurt?"

"Well, we're not all people who are eager to learn," Lucas bit back. "We can't all be that good at reading ahead and actually being able to understand it."

Luna chuckled, skipping along. They made their way down the tunnel, and when they got to the end, there was another ladder. This time, Lucas got rid of the rust.

"We should probably touch this tunnel up," Luna said, frowning. "Give it a little maintenance. Who knows how long since this has been used before you were told about it." She waved a hand through the stale air. "The dust is everywhere."

Lucas sighed. "Yeah, well..." He shook his head. "Right now, we have a thief to find." He gripped the sides of the ladder and began climbing up. The trapdoor was already open, and this time, it opened up right onto the island.

"Where're your Slytherin friends?" Ginny asked. "Do they know how to get here?"

"I left the passage open," Lucas replied. "They'll figure it out."

The twins snickered. "Ten Sickles says they won't find it," George bet.

"I'll take the bet," Lucas said, smirking. He chuckled. "You're going to owe me ten Sickles. There's no way they won't find it."

"Well, you wouldn't have taken the bet if you weren't sure you would win," Luna said, shaking her head. "Τυπικό για εσάς και τα αδέλφια σας."

Lucas snorted. "Just wait and see."

It turns out Lucas was right. Theo, Daphne, and Pansy had spotted the opening and went through the tunnel.

"How did you find out about this tunnel?" Theo asked. "I doubt it's in that map of yours."

"The merpeople," Lucas deadpanned. "Duh."

Ginny cleared her throat. "So! The diary's been stolen?"

Lucas nodded. "I'm pretty sure it's a Slytherin. No one else has the password to the Dungeons. Well." He paused, huffing out a laugh. "Except for Potter and Weasley, of course, but we change the password every week."

Theo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. "How could I forget," he mumbled sarcastically. "You were teasing us about it for days."

Lucas snorted. "Yeah, well, I couldn't resist. If our roles were reversed, you'd do the same."

Theo rolled his eyes. "We're getting off-topic. It's a Slytherin. Okay, then. But who? Do you have any idea?"

Lucas opened his mouth and closed it. "Why are you asking me?" he asked, throwing his hands up. "How am I supposed to know? If anything, you should be asking the Ravenclaw or the Know-It-All."

"Thanks a lot," Hermione muttered, while Luna said, "Very funny."

Lucas snorted. "You're welcome," he said to Hermione. "Anyway, it's probably someone who has a grudge against me. I mean, the only Slytherins who know about what the diary does are me, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne."

"Theo, Pansy, Daphne, and I," Luna corrected.

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered. It wasn't as if Lucas was checking if his grammar was correct 24/7. Sure, with writing essays, he would, but not when speaking. If he did, he would probably have to constantly backtrack.

"Okay, what does the diary even do ?" Hermione asked. "All you've said is that it's been stolen and nothing else."

"We'd like to know that, too," George said, gesturing between him and Fred.

"Considering that we only know that it's dangerous and nothing else," Fred added.

"When I started writing in that diary, it talked back," Ginny explained. "I thought it was pretty cool at first - kind of like a friend I can carry around in my pocket.

"But the night Mrs. Norris was attacked, I... I, uh, I don't remember that night. Not what I was doing, how I got to where I was. I got paint down my front, though."

"So, the diary is what was behind the attacks?" Hermione frowned. "How does it do that?"

"Beats me," Lucas said. He sighed. "I really should've looked into it."

"Okay." Luna waved her hands around. "Getting back on track. Who hates you enough to steal the diary?"

"Maybe Zabini," Daphne suggested. "I mean, you've embarrassed him multiple times before. He would probably want to embarrass you back. You know, since diaries are stereotypically for girls."

Lucas snorted. "There are so many faults within that idea. I could say it's a journal and save my dignity. But... Zabini is the most likely one."

"Okay!" Fred announced. "Now that this is finished, Fred and I have to go. You know, pranks to plan, people to mess with."

Lucas sighed. "Who are you trying to deceive? You're Fred."

Ginny's head swivelled between Lucas and the twins. "You can tell them apart?" she exclaimed.

"Yeah." Lucas looked at them. "Oh, come on. It isn't that hard. Fred's voice is deeper."

"Of course, you can tell them apart," Luna muttered, sighing. "It's because of the Stolls, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Lucas grinned. "Useful, isn't it? I don't have to look like a complete idiot. And I get to watch everyone else suffer."

Luna huffed, rolling her eyes, which Lucas ignored. He missed having nothing to worry about except for potentially being killed while training. This was a bit much. Not that it was the first time he had complained.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite his internal complaints about his current situation, Lucas was quite pleased. Even with the diary stolen, nobody had been attacked. He hadn't had the opportunity to steal the diary back - Zabini had kept away from him and didn't nag at him. Lucas wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but it almost felt too silent. He could actually study in the common room in peace. It was nice, but it left him on edge. He didn't like not knowing when Zabini would start nagging at him.

Lucas could almost put up with Lockhart. Sure, he was cocky, and Lucas just wanted to punch his perfect teeth in, but Lucas didn't really listen to Lockhart's class anyway. He doubted that there would be a difference.

In fact, Lucas would be fine with attending Defense Against the Dark Arts if Lockhart hadn't pulled that idea on Valentine's Day. It was terrible.

That morning, at breakfast, the Great Hall had been decorated for the occasion. The walls were filled with large, vivid pink flowers, much to Lucas's horror. There was even pink heart-shaped confetti drifting down from the domed ceiling.

Lucas walked over to the Slytherin table, scowling. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded. "I don't like this. There's too much pink."

Pansy grimaced. "I'm never going to look at pink the same way ever again. This is horrifying. Just..." She trailed off, seemingly unable to find words and pointed at the Staff table.

Lucas turned his head and resisted the urge to gag. He wanted to leave the Great Hall immediately. At the Staff table, Lockhart was sitting in his seat, wearing bright pink robes, matching the decorations. None of the teachers looked very happy, either. Snape looked like he would sooner drink poison than be there. Lucas could make out a muscle jumping in McGonagall's cheek.

Lucas opened his mouth and closed it again. He shook his head, getting the confetti out of his hair. "Lockhart was the one who orchestrated this, wasn't he? As if I needed another reason to hate him."

Theo opened his mouth to talk, but before he could, Lockhart started talking.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart announced. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands, and to Lucas's horror, a dozen harp-carrying dwarves with scowls on their faces and golden wings on them came through the doors.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" Lockhart exclaimed, a broad smile stretching across his face. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to help you whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Lucas watched as Flitwick covered his face with his hands, turning red. Snape, however, scowled. Lucas was pretty sure the first person to ask him would get hexed. Maybe if he asked Snape to give him a vial of poison?

"Why are you so quiet?" Theo asked as they exited the Great Hall.

"Well, no one plans a murder out loud," Lucas replied. Maybe he could push Lockhart out of a window. That would be fun. But shoving people out of windows causes them to scream, unlike when they commit suicide. But if he dumped poison... well, he would probably get sent to Azkaban. But, Lockhart would die slowly, which would be worth it. Or maybe he could ask Lyra to help. There were other options, of course, but they'd be messier.

Daphne frowned. "That's against the law!" she burst out. "Besides, that's not very nice."

"Well, it's not like he means it," Theo said. After a beat, he added, "Right?"

Lucas smirked, watching the sudden horror appear on Theo's face. His humour was usually light-hearted. Lucas had told them he wanted to commit murder before. Then again, no one had ever annoyed him as much as Lockhart.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dwarves get barging into their classrooms for the rest of the day, annoying their professors tremendously. Luckily, Lucas hadn't received anything, and if he had anything to say about it, he wouldn't. He didn't need to be handed anything. This surprise was torture. The faster the day ended, the better.

Things became slightly better in the afternoon. Well, Lucas got a good laugh out of it. Maybe he shouldn't have laughed, but he did anyway. Laughing at others' embarrassment was what the children of Hermes did.

He was heading for Herbology with Theo, Pansy, and Daphne when they heard the sound of cloth ripping. Naturally, Lucas went to check it out, and his friends followed. They weren't going to wait around for him.

"What's going on?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. Potter was on the ground picking his stuff up, and it wasn't as if he'd talk to Lucas, even if he wasn't occupied. Besides, a dwarf was right there. Lucas wouldn't speak to anyone either if a dwarf was about to give him a valentine.

"What's all this commotion?" Percy asked as he arrived, only seconds after Lucas.

Lucas's lips twitched as Potter tried to make a run for it but was brought down by the dwarf, who grabbed Potter by the legs and brought him crashing down, sitting on his ankles.

"Right," the dwarf said, "here is your singing valentine:

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

 His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

 I wish he was mine: he's really divine,

 The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."

Lucas snickered. The valentine wasn't bad for being written by an eleven-year-old, but it was downright embarrassing. The rhyming was good, though. And the look on Potter's face was priceless.

Meanwhile, Percy had begun to disperse the crowd, most of whom had tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class now," he called. "And Zabini, hand that over."

Lucas hadn't even realized that Zabini was there. He had been too focused on Potter. But now that he was looking at him, he could see that Zabini was holding Riddle's diary.

Ginny looked nervous. She met Lucas's gaze, turned to look at Zabini, and finally stopped at Percy.

"Why?" Zabini asked. "It's mine."

"I happen to know it's not," Percy replied. "And as a school Prefect..."

"Well, you'll have to make me," Zabini taunted, waving the diary around. He turned to Lucas. "It's a shame, really, that you haven't written in it."

Lucas scoffed. "Well, you be sure to tell me when you've learnt Greek." He laughed at Zabini's open mouth. "I'm Dyslexic, you dumbass. Greek just happens to be one of the languages that I have no problem with."

Zabini stared at him. "Y-you're lying."

"Όχι, " Lucas said, " δεν είμαι. Και πάλι, δεν θα ξέρατε τίποτα για δυσλεξία. Τώρα, με συγχωρείτε, θα το πάρω πίσω." Lucas took a few steps toward Zabini and grabbed the diary roughly.

As they walked to Herbology, Lucas turned to Ginny and grinned. "Nice poem," he mouthed.

Ginny's face flushed red, and she covered her face, running to class.

"Greek, huh?" Daphne said. "You sound like a native. Wish we'd dragged you along to Cyprus. You could've translated for us."

Lucas frowned. "Don't they also speak Turkish?" Besides, Ancient Greek and Greek weren't the same languages. They used the same alphabet, but the words were different.

"Well, they do," Pansy replied, "but it'd be nice to know what half of them are saying."

Lucas laughed. "True," he admitted.

"I hope you're not putting it out in the open again," Theo interrupted. "We're not helping you if you lose it again."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'm not, I'm not." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll put it in the Chamber after Herbology. Not many people can get in there."

"Potter's a Parselmouth," Theo pointed out.

Lucas scoffed. "Please. As if Potter, of all people, would find the entrance. That's like trying to find a needle in a haystack."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Herbology, Lucas had gone down to the Dungeons to put his bag away. After that, he headed directly to the Chamber of Secrets. However, when he got to the tapestry, he bumped into Luna.

"Hi!" She grinned. "Thought I'd find you here."

"Well, you know me well," Lucas commented. "Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less. We've known each other for a long time, after all." He glanced at the thing sitting on her head. It looked vaguely like sparkly, multicoloured glasses. "Nice glasses," he mentioned.

Luna scowled. "You're making fun of me."

"No!" Lucas exclaimed. "I swear, I'm not. Okay, so they look weird. Yes, they do. But they look nice on you!"

Luna chuckled. "You talk fast when you're confronted with something."

"I should probably work on that," Lucas admitted. "What are those for?"

"Yeah, you should. You might get even better at lying." Luna smiled. "These are Spectrespecs. They make Wrackspurts visible."

"Wrackspurts," Lucas repeated.

"Yep. They're these creatures that float into your ears and make your brain go all fuzzy."

"Okay..."

They stood in silence for a while, not knowing what to say. After a while, Luna broke it.

"Here!" She shoved a box of chocolate at him. It was a black and flat, rectangular box with a purple lid. On the cover were a few words in a large and fancy font.

Lucas squinted his eyes. "Does that say... Hnoe..." He sighed. "I can't read that. Too fancy. Something Best Cho... Chocolate. Does that say chocolate?"

"Yep!" Luna confirmed. "It says 'Honeydukes Best Chocolate.' Honeydukes is pretty famous here. It's in Hogsmeade, which is pretty much right next to Hogwarts. You'll get to go next year."

"Another motive to stay alive," Lucas said dryly.

"You're welcome."

Lucas snorted. "I'll smuggle you out," he suggested. "I'll drag you along with my friends. We can give you a Slytherin scarf, and the teachers will be none the wiser."

"I'll think about it," Luna replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Putting this away," Lucas replied, holding up the diary. "No one knows how to get into the Chamber, so I might as well put it there. I mean, Potter might be able to get in, but he's... well, he's oblivious. I doubt he'll be able to find it."

"Ah." Luna tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ears. "I'll see you later."

"Please get a haircut!" he called after her, watching her waist-length hair bounce up and down as she skipped away.

"No thank you!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

" Hey, " Lucas said, walking up to Lyra. He had put the diary in a metal box that he had locked with the Locking Spell.

" Hello! " Lyra slithered over. " What are you doing here? "

" Putting this diary away, " Lucas replied. " It was controlling Ginny - the girl who told you to attack the Muggleborns. "

" Oh. Good to know it wasn't actually the girl. Someone that young shouldn't have that much hatred towards Muggles. "

" Yeah. " Lucas blew out a breath. " Um. Speaking of hatred towards Muggles, has the Chamber ever been opened before? "

" Well, there was that time when Salazar was still here, " Lyra replied. " And it was opened again... um, what's the year? "

" 2005 ."

" Oh. It's been that long? " Lyra looked very upset. " The last time was sixty-two years ago. That's when... when I killed a Muggle-Born girl. "

Lucas pressed his lips together. " Well, it's not like you meant to. I mean, someone must've told you to. "

" There was someone, " Lyra confirmed. " He told me to attack the Muggle-borns. "

" He? " Lucas parroted. " Was his name Tom Riddle? "

" I don't know, " Lyra admitted, " but he was around sixteen, I believe. Very handsome and tall. He had pale skin, jet black hair and dark eyes - I believe they were brown. "

Lucas gaped at her. He really shouldn't have expected anything else. Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin. He hated Muggle-borns. In that dream, he had even told Lucas to let Lyra continue the attacks.

He sighed. He should really try and find out what dark object the diary is.

Translations:

Τυπικό για εσάς και τα αδέλφια σας. (Typical for you and your siblings.)

Όχι, δεν είμαι. (Νο, I'm not.)

Και πάλι, δεν θα ξέρατε τίποτα για δυσλεξία. (Then again, you wouldn't know anything about Dyslexia.)

Τώρα, με συγχωρείτε, θα το πάρω πίσω. (Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll take this back.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 26: Another Attack

Despite his decision to find out what type of Dark object the diary was, Lucas ended up forgetting about it. Maybe it was because he was ADHD, or it was because of schoolwork. The point is, Lucas forgot about it, only to remember it again while working. Sometimes he really hated having ADHD. Sometimes it was handy, like in a fight, but usually, it was an inconvenience. He hated his inability to sit/stay still (more so his inability to keep friends due to accidentally annoying them).

And his inability to remember things. Especially his failure to remember things. If he actually managed to remember things, he would've got this done ages ago. He certainly wouldn't be thinking of this while writing his essay.

Lucas groaned lightly, letting his head fall on the sheet of parchment. At least he didn't have to worry about getting the ink smudged on his forehead. The ink from pens dried fast. It was  almost instantly.

"Lucas, are you alright?" Hermione asked, peering at him.

"Peachy," he grumbled, lifting his head from the table. "I'm fine, really."

"You don't seem fine," Cedric noted.

"I am!" Lucas exclaimed. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Hermione asked, frowning. "It must be something serious for you to have a reaction like that."

"It's not." Technically, finding out what the diary was was very important, but it was locked up. No one would get attacked. "I'm just annoyed at myself. Well, my memory. I don't have the best memory."

"Well, what is it?" Hermione asked.

"The attacks," Lucas said.

Hermione frowned again. "Do you know anything else about them?"

"Well, uh, the diary," he said, "the one that was controlling Ginny, it had a name on it. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Anyway, I had a dream around the time of Duelling Club. I think it was in December? Um, I'm pretty sure I'm a seer? I mean, I get these dreams that always come true."

"Really?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I saw you, Potter, and Weasley going down the trapdoor last year," Lucas stated bluntly. "So yes, I'm pretty sure I'm a seer. Anyway, the Chamber of Secrets was opened sixty-two years ago by Tom Marvolo Riddle - who happens to be the owner of that diary."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

At the same time, Cedric said, "Did you get this from Lyra?" However, he had spoken too loud - Madam Pince had heard him and held her finger to her lips.

Lucas snorted. "Yeah," he said, making sure to keep his voice low. "She basically described him to me. Black hair, pale skin, dark eyes, the whole shebang."

"The what?" Cedric asked.

Lucas sighed. "The whole nine yards? Have any of you heard of these phrases before? No?" He huffed out a breath. "Έτσι, αυτό δεν χρησιμοποιήθηκε στο Ηνωμένο Βασίλειο," he muttered. "It means the whole thing."

"Oh," Cedric said. "Haven't heard that slang before."

For the third time that day, Hermione frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "Who's Lyra?"

Lucas gulped. No. No, no, no. He was not going there. He was not explaining who Lyra was, and he certainly wasn't going to tell her that he was a Parselmouth. Nope, not doing it. He would rather face every single monster in the world at once before admitting he was a Parselmouth. Maybe a few years later, he would, but not this year. He'd say it when no one would accuse him of being the one to open the Chamber and starting the attacks.

Instead, he said, "She's a friend."

"Hmm," Hermione said. "Okay. When you're ready to talk about her, I'll listen." After a moment, she muttered, "It's not like I've been your friend longer than him. "

"What?" Lucas asked sharply, drawing Madam Pince's attention to him. He lowered his voice, repeating what he said. "What? No, no, no. Please tell me you're not mad. Don't be mad at me. Cedric wasn't even supposed to know. I didn't plan on telling him. I didn't plan on telling anyone. I just..." He put his face in his hands, letting out a groan. "It's not you, okay? I just... I can't. I'm not talking about this." He turned to Cedric. "Don't. Bring. This. Up. Again," he hissed. "I'm not ready."

With that, he turned back to his essay. Cedric and Hermione didn't bring up the attacks or Lyra for the rest of their time there, and neither did Lucas.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

During the Easter holidays, the second years were given more motivation to continue learning. The time had come to choose their subjects for the upcoming year. Lucas found that this was taken very seriously by all Slytherins. Though really, what else did he expect? Ambition was one of their key traits.

"I'd suggest that you think very carefully about what classes you choose," Gemma advised. "Some careers require a certain amount of NEWTs, and some require NEWTs in certain subjects. Of course, it's important to play to your strengths and take subjects that you enjoy, but we all do things we don't enjoy. Chances are, an ideal job of yours calls for a NEWT in a subject you don't enjoy." She smiled. "It's never too late to start thinking about the future, but start too late, and there will be consequences. In your fifth year, our Head of House will talk to you about career choices. If you only start thinking about it then, your choices will be limited. Maybe you'll get lucky, and you chose the right subjects. But not everyone has the same luck. Start thinking about your future now, and your future will become easier."

In the end, they borrowed Gemma's collection of leaflets instead of crowding at the large table that held the pamphlets for the different careers.

"I suppose being a Curse-Breaker would be nice," Theo said. "Or an Auror."

"If you don't fancy sitting at a desk all day," Lucas agreed. "But the scars that come along with being an Auror..." He shook his head. Lucas had already fought too much than he was comfortable with. After a while, things got depressing. "Being an Unspeakable seems nice."

"Except for all the secrets you have to keep," Pansy pointed out. "I can't imagine keeping that many secrets. I mean, there must be a lot."

"Yes, but no one would ask you, so you wouldn't slip up," Lucas countered. "A Historian also seems nice. Or maybe an Activist. But there's also a lot of writing as a Historian."

Daphne stared at him. "You like History of Magic?"

"I like the topic, just not the subject," Lucas said. "The problem is that Binns can't teach. His voice is just... it's very bland. He makes giant wars sound boring."

In the end, Lucas had decided to keep his options open for a Curse-Breaker or an Unspeakable and chose Care of Magical Creatures, Study of Ancient Runes, and Divination.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the afternoon before the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Ginny approached Lucas.

"Hey!" She skipped over to him. "How are you?"

"Bored," Lucas replied. "Very bored. On the other hand, Theo bet that I couldn't pull a prank on Snape without being caught, so here I am. Still thinking about what I'm going to do. Maybe the balloon one? I mean, it'll take a while, but it'd be worth it."

"What's the balloon one?"

"It's where you blow up a bunch of balloons and fill a room full of them," Lucas explained. "I'm thinking maybe his office? It's close to the common room, so... oh, my gods, I should not have said that."

Ginny scoffed. "You know where our entrance is," she pointed out. "It's only fair that I know where the entrance to your common room is."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Whatever. As long as you don't snitch on me, we're cool."

She smirked. "I can deal with that." After a few moments, she spoke up again. "So, who are you cheering for? Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? It better be Gryffindor."

Lucas shook his head. "I'll be cheering for Hufflepuff, actually." He smirked. "Does that mean we're not friends anymore?"

"Oh, come off it," she replied. "You know I'm joking. I'm not going to stop being friends with you just because you're not cheering for Gryffindor."

"And you should've known that I was joking, too," Lucas said, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't stop being friends with you either."

"Well, in my defence, sometimes you're joking, and sometimes you're completely serious," Ginny retorted. "I have to guess, every time."

He snickered. "So, I'm unpredictable. Awesome."

"Yeah. Awesome." She smiled. "Well, I have to go. Good luck with your prank!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He expected the next day to be very relaxing and fun. It wasn't. It was very stressful, and Lucas didn't like it. He might as well as just not go to any matches anymore. But this would've probably happened either way.

He had headed to the Quidditch Stands with somewhat low expectations. The diary was locked away, so logically, it shouldn't be able to harm anyone. But Potter was playing. Potter had the luck of a demigod - maybe even worse.

The point is, wherever Potter went, trouble followed. At this point, Lucas wouldn't be surprised if Potter was actually a demigod. Not that Lucas wanted him to be a demigod. That would just make things much harder. But he couldn't deny that Potter was a trouble magnet.

Lucas was watching Wood take a warm-up flight on the Quidditch Pitch. Lucas would never admit that it was entertaining, but it was. He flew around the perimeter of the Quidditch Pitch and wove through the goalposts. The Hufflepuffs huddled together discussing tactics, their canary yellow robes standing out from the green grass. Everything was fine. At least, until McGonagall half-marched and half-ran across the pitch, with an enormous purple megaphone.

Lucas sighed. "There go the last few uneventful months of this year," he muttered. "Why did I even bother?"

"This match has been cancelled," McGonagall announced, her voice blaring through the megaphone. Boos and shouts rang across the pitch and stadium. "All students are to make their way back to the house common rooms," she continued, "where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Lucas pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to regret his decisions. Maybe if he had just destroyed the diary, then he would've actually been able to stop the attacks entirely. Or you know, if he actually remembered to do something for once in his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas flipped the butterfly knife, occasionally switching to the other hand. It was a bad idea, but he never thought clearly when under stress. Well. Maybe if he had actually told a teacher that there was a bloody Basilisk in the castle, then he wouldn't be so stressed.

"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening," Snape read. "No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed, and there will be no evening activities."

He rolled up the parchment and said, "I hardly need to remind you that this is a serious matter." Snape looked at them, scowling. "It is very likely that the school will be closed if the attacks continue. I would urge anyone who knows anything about the attacks to come forward and say what they know."

Lucas bit his lip, continuing to flip the knife. He could say something. Or Lucas could just stay silent. Surely he could handle Lyra. On the other hand, having the staff know would be helpful. Probably. They weren't much help the previous year. But if he did tell them... well, then he'd have to explain how he knew. What would he even say? Oh, I'm a Parselmouth, and I talked to the Basilisk - who, by the way, is named Lyra - and she told me that she was told that the Muggleborns were a threat by Ginny Weasley, who was being controlled by Tom Riddle's diary which is locked up in the Chamber of Secrets? Yeah, right. He'd probably be accused of attacking the Muggleborns and be expelled. He wasn't taking that chance.

"It's a Basilisk," Lucas burst out. He instantly regretted it as he felt everyone in the room look at him. Lucas flipped the knife shut for the last time, shoving it into his pocket and hoping that no one saw the blade. "Um, it's a Basilisk that's been attacking people," he explained.

Snape's eyes bore into him, making Lucas fidget. He didn't like that look. It made him feel as though Snape was slowly picking him apart, piece by piece, revealing all his secrets. Even so, he kept still, meeting Snape's eyes. Maybe that would make Snape believe him. If one member of the staff believed him, then the situation might become better.

Still, Snape seemed unconvinced. "A Basilisk," he repeated. "And how, pray tell, did you come to this conclusion?"

"I... saw the tail," Lucas said. He wasn't entirely sure if they'd believe him, but it was worth a shot. Sometime during the last minute, Lucas had stopped looking Snape in the eyes. Instead, he kept his gaze on the wall behind him. It was quickly becoming a habit, with the many times that Lucas had lied to people. Lucas liked to believe he was getting better at lying, but he wasn't too sure. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and said, "It was a few days ago. It was covered in green scales. I was..." He paused. "I don't remember what I was doing in the corridor. I think I was... I think I was going to the library? Or did I leave the library?" Lucas shook his head. "I don't think that really matters. Anyway, I went back to the library sometime later to try and find out what it was. It makes sense. The Basilisk only kills if you stare at it in the eyes, but if you look at its eyes indirectly - such as a reflective surface - then you'd only get Petrified."

Snape nodded, and Lucas tried not to show any relief. That would just tip Snape off. It did give him the courage to meet Snape's gaze again, though.

"Very well," Snape replied after a while. "I will inform the Headmaster of this." He turned around and stalked out of the Dungeons, his robes billowing dramatically behind him. As soon as he left, the room burst with noise.

That went well. At least Snape hadn't outright said he was lying. Still, Lucas had the feeling Snape knew that it wasn't the whole story.

"Merlin's beard," Pansy muttered. "You lied to him. You lied to our Head of House. And he didn't call you out."

Lucas frowned. "Are you saying that he knows that I lied?"

"Why did you even lie in the first place?" Theo demanded. "You know he's a legilimens!"

Legilimens. What even was that? Lucas thought he knew enough about the Wizarding World to convince people that he was a pure-blood. Evidently, not.

"You know, people who can look into in your mind?" Theo pressed on. "C'mon, you can't have forgotten about your godfather being a legilimens. You told me when we were kids, remember?"

"Right." Lucas grinned, although it felt a bit forced. He hoped that Theo wouldn't notice. "Uh, sorry. My memory's bad." His mind was racing. Snape was his godfather, and Lucas and Theo were friends when they were kids. The Mist was amazing. He once again hoped that Theo didn't notice his surprise.

"That still doesn't explain why you lied to him," he grumbled.

"Well, what was I supposed to say?" Lucas demanded. "Tell the truth? Next thing you know, the whole school would know, and I'd be accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"He does have a point," Daphne pointed out.

"Thank you," Lucas huffed. "But what I don't get is why they were attacked. I remember putting the diary away. I locked it in a box."

"Perhaps it became strong enough to control people without getting near them."

Lucas flinched, turning in the direction of the voice. It was from a painting - Salazar's painting.

"Oh my gods," he muttered. "Please don't do that. Though, I probably shouldn't be so caught off guard." One would think that he wouldn't continue to jump at every sound. It wasn't like he was in any danger. Apparently, he was still very jumpy.

"Wait." Pansy sat forward. "What do you mean by that? How would it be able to control people without getting near them?"

"Well, the Chamber has a Dark aura surrounding it," he explained. "A side-effect from my experiments from when I was still alive. But the aura may have... strengthened the diary."

Lucas scowled. "So, what you're saying is that by putting the book in the Chamber of Secrets, I accidentally strengthened it?"

Sal looked a bit guilty. "Well, yes," he replied, shifting in his large seat. "I believe so."

"That's..." Theo tried to find a suitable word. "... awesome," he finished lamely. "Is there a way to stop the attacks?"

"There is," Salazar replied. "You'll have to destroy it. However, first, you'll have to figure out what type of dark object it is, as they all have different methods of destroying. Something that could destroy one thing could strengthen another."

"That sounds fun," Lucas joked. "You wouldn't happen to have any books on Dark magic, would you?"

"I do," he said. "But you'd have to sneak away without anyone noticing to get to there. Once you get there, you'll have to go through the door on the left side of the lounge. That opens up to a corridor. At the end of the corridor is a large door. That leads to the library. At the very back of the library is a section of books dedicated to the Dark Arts. Books on Dark objects should be at the very bottom row."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Lucas decided.  

"Absolutely not," Theo protested. "What if you got caught? You can't just sneak around the... mmph!" Theo made a muffled cry as Lucas shoved his hand on his mouth. Theo pulled Lucas's hand off, scowling. "What was that for?"

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the entire room that I'm planning on sneaking out!" he hissed. "I don't need anyone running to Snape."

Theo scowled. "Fine. Don't blame me when you're Petrified or dead."

"Of course I won't," Lucas said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like I can blame you if I'm dead." He scoffed. "Oh wait, I can. But I'm not going to because the reason I'll be dead is because of my own impulsiveness."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, when everyone else was asleep, Lucas made his move. It was too easy to sneak around. It might have to do with the fact that he was used to harpies as the patrol. With Mrs. Norris Petrified, it was much easier to sneak around. 

Still, Lucas's heart pounded heavily. He ignored the sweat on his hands, glancing around as he snuck to the tapestry. It was too silent for his liking. Even when he snuck out at Camp Half-Blood, well. At least the harpies screamed. The teachers and Filch wouldn't. Peeves probably would, but Lucas could easily talk him out of it.

It wasn't really a surprise that he let out a sigh of relief as he entered the corridor to the Chamber of Secrets. Lucas headed down the stairs and walked through the door opposite the other one and through the hall. It had many doors, but Lucas ignored them and went through the door at the end of the hallway.

And the library was huge. Lucas had been expecting something much smaller. Maybe the size of those libraries in those mansions that rich people owned. Definitely not this. It wasn't as large as Hogwarts's library (which was absolutely enormous), but it was still grand. Probably the size of a public library, which was still very big.

Even though it was most likely hidden from the rest of the world for centuries, the shelves, books, and furniture were still in perfect condition - probably the effects of some kind of spell. The library still kept up the green and silver theme, which was shown on the furniture. The seats were made out of English Oak. The green cushions on the chairs had silver designs on them, and some had snakes on them, while others had trees or other things. Besides the seats were small, circular tables and green tapestries hung on the walls, with the silver snake on them. Each snake had different markings and different postures and would move about and hiss. Along with the tapestries, there were paintings of people - descendants of Salazar, probably. And, of course, they were the magical kind.

However, one of the tapestries did not fit the theme. It was red, and there was a gold lion sewed on it. Lucas wasn't sure if it was supposed to be there, but it most likely wasn't. It was noisy, and the lion's roar was easily heard over the hisses. There was no way anyone could concentrate with the lion.

"Okay," Lucas muttered. "The back. Sal said the back."

Lucas made his way past the Oak bookshelves, casting a Lumos. He could've lit the torches that donned the walls, but Lumos was quicker. All the bookshelves were quite similar: tall, with several arches and miniature towers on the top. Each bookcase was separated into three sections, and each had seven shelves. On the bottom, it was split into four sections and had two shelves.

When Lucas got to Dark Arts section, he dropped down, aiming his wand at the books. His heart sank. Each book was very thick and old, and there were dozens of them. It wasn't the old that was the problem, but the weight. He supposed he could do an Undetectable Detection Charm, but he didn't have the time. It was very complicated and tricky, and Lucas needed the diary destroyed yesterday. Maybe later, after these attacks ended.

Lucas brushed his fingers against the spine of Soul Splitting and Its Many Uses. It would take a long time, but it'd be worth it. He'd do anything to end the attacks.

Translations:

Έτσι, αυτό δεν χρησιμοποιήθηκε στο Ηνωμένο Βασίλειο. (So, this wasn't used in the UK.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 27: Horcrux

Lucas ended up spending hours carrying two or three books to his dormitory each trip. It took a while, but it was only four trips, as Lucas didn’t want to lug all those books to the dormitory and then back when he was done with them. Those books were heavy.  And there were stairs. Stairs. It was extremely tiring to sneak through the hallways carrying those books.

And so, Lucas ended up reading the books in his spare time with his friends (at least, those in Slytherin).

“Dumbledore’s been sacked,” Pansy informed them on their first day reading through the books. “Yesterday evening.”

Well. Pansy was always good at gossip. It might not always be reliable, but they always managed to get the gist of it.

“Don’t they need an Order of Suspension?” Lucas asked, frowning. “It has to be signed by all twelve of the governors, right?”

“What, do you think that it’s that hard?” Pansy snarked. “A bit of manipulation and cajoling, and they’ll all give in.”

“But it’s…” Lucas waved his arms around, nearly flipping the book that was balanced precariously balanced on his seat’s armrest. “... it’s stupid!” he exclaimed. “I mean, isn’t Dumbledore supposed to be the only person Voldermort… no, wait, You-Know-Who feared?”

“Well, yes,” Pansy said slowly. “But who knows what goes on in their mind? But they have to do something.  I think they believe that there might be something that Dumbledore’s successor will be able to do.”

“They’re idiots,” Lucas decided. “Dumbledore may not have done anything last year, but he's still a very powerful wizard.”

“Um… Draco,” Theo said. “You do realize that by insulting the governors, you’re also insulting your father?”

“So?” he asked. “Just because he’s family doesn’t mean I can’t insult him.” Well, he wasn’t actually his father, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Daphne cut in. “This is why we need to find out what that diary is and how to destroy it. If we’re lucky, no one will have died by then.”

“If,” Lucas muttered. “If.” He paged through the book, finding a section on Black Quills. It was interesting and a bit horrifying but was more grey than Dark. It definitely wasn’t what they were looking for.

But Daphne was right. They did need to destroy the diary as fast as possible. With the possibility of another attack at any moment, the atmosphere of the school was incredibly tense. The safety measures probably didn’t help to ease it. Yes, it was for their safety, but it served to make them more anxious.

They weren’t allowed to wander off on their own anymore. Instead, they were herded together from class to class with other Slytherins. Most people seemed to be pleased that they were being herded from class to class, but Lucas found it very useless and tiring. It wasn’t as if a teacher was going to be able to protect them from Lyra. She was the embodiment of the saying, “If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now.”

One student who seemed to be enjoying it was Zabini. He acted like he owned the school and would loudly voice his opinions. Like now.

“How do you feel about your father getting rid of Dumbledore, Malfoy?” Zabini taunted. “‘Course, if you were a  true  Slytherin, then you’d be happy.” He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. “My bet’s on that you’re upset, like those Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors.” Half the Slytherins in the room roared with laughter and jeers. “He was always the worst Headmaster the school has ever seen. Maybe we’ll get a decent Headmaster now. One who won’t want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in, after all.”

Lucas clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool.  Don’t fight him: just stay calm. Just stay calm. He’s not worth it.

“To be honest, I’m not quite sure why the Mudbloods haven’t packed their bags and left already,” he continued, smirking. “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity, it wasn’t Granger…”

Lucas snapped his book shut and stood up, glaring at Zabini, fists clenched. That’s it. He was going to make Zabini regret the day he was ever born. He was going to… 

Theo held him back. “Don’t do it,” he hissed. “You’ll just get yourself in trouble.”

“I don’t care,” Lucas snarled. “Just let me at him, I’m going to kill him for saying that…”

“Why beat him up when you can humiliate him?” Theo reasoned. “We’re all Slytherins. You may not care much about reputation, but Zabini does. You can hex him or something like that.”

Lucas huffed, relaxing. He drove his elbow into Theo’s chest, who made a small, “Oof.”

“Let go of me,” Lucas muttered. After Theo did, Lucas plopped back down, ignoring the jeers. “Alright then, genius,” Lucas said bitterly. “What do you propose I do?”

Theo pointed at himself. “Me?” At Lucas’s glare, he said, “Right. Okay. Well, I don’t know.  Anteoculatia? The Hair-Loss Curse? The Stickfast Hex? Do you even know how to cast these spells?”

Lucas huffed. “I might do something less complicated. Maybe the Tickling Charm. Or  Cantis  again.” He sighed. “I really need to brush up on my hexes and jinxes.”

“You definitely do,” Daphne agreed. “Dark magic may be considered bad by many people, but it’s useful. You could use it to protect yourself.”

“I suppose,” Lucas said. “Wait. Is  Anteoculatia  the one with the antlers?”

“Yeah,” Theo said. “It’s the one with two big antlers sprouting out of your head.”

Lucas grinned. “Awesome,” he said. “I can do that one.”

It was a bit complicated, but Lucas was a determined and stubborn person. Fred and George had decided that as a fellow prankster, Lucas had to be able to hex and jinx people. It paid off at times, even if Lucas never had to defend himself with them. Curses would probably work better as defensive spells, with what they cause. Pain, a big head, extra limbs… the list just went on. Despite some of the gruesome results, Lucas couldn’t deny that it would be of great use in a duel. Besides, it wouldn’t be too bad if he used it to protect himself… right?

Lucas huffed. He’d deal with that later. Right now, he had someone to hex.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Isn’t Lockhart just the most infuriating person you’ve ever met?” Theo hissed. 

“You’re not wrong,” Lucas whispered back. “He’s so full of himself. And why does he have to look so happy all the time?”

“Makes me want to punch him.”

Lucas snorted. Lockhart had bounced into the classroom with a chipper smile on his face, unlike his colleagues, who seemed to be nothing but grim these days. Upon noticing their annoyed faces, he had said, “Why all these long faces?”

They all swapped annoyed glances. Lucas was ten seconds away from actually murdering Lockhart, and he didn’t think he was the only one. Lockhart just had that effect on you.

Lockhart continued on. “The danger has passed! The culprit has been caught and taken away!”

“Really?” Adair sneered. At least, Lucas was pretty sure it was Adair. It certainly looked like zir, with the long, curled blue hair styled in a ponytail and green eyes. Or was that zir twin, Áine? No, Áine was a Ravenclaw. Damn it.

“My dear young lady,” Lockhart said, “the…”

“Person,” ze said.

“Pardon?”

“Person,” Adair repeated. “I’m not a lady.”

“O-of course,” Lockhart said, looking a bit red in the cheeks. “As I was saying, the Minister of Magic wouldn’t have taken Hagrid if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that he was guilty.” Lockhart had regained his composure a bit too quickly. Was he always filled with such confidence?

Probably. Lucas could believe that.

But despite Lockhart’s cocky and disgustingly cheery attitude, it was still helpful. The urge to throw a knife at Lockhart’s face or fill his chest with buckshot became steadily harder to ignore, which only stiffened his resolve to find out what item the diary was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas wasn’t sure if he really needed to talk to Annabeth. But, it was nice to see someone that he didn’t see every day. 

“Oh, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering. Show me Annabeth at Camp Half-Blood.” He tossed a golden drachma in the mist that he had created with his wand. 

Annabeth hadn’t noticed, too busy reading a book on the history of the dagger. It wasn’t as common as seeing her read about architecture, but it was still very predictable.

“Hi!”

She cursed, nearly upturning her book and spun around to glare at him. “You almost made me lose my page!” she hissed. “Lucas Aethalides, don’t  do that  ever again!”

“Ah. Yes. Interrupting your reading. What sacrilege,” Lucas said. “How shall I be punished, Lady Annabeth? Shall I be…”

“Okay!” Annabeth said. “Just stop.”

Lucas pouted. “Fine,” he said. “I need your help.”

“Alright,” she replied. “What is it?”

“I need help,” he said. “With researching.”

“Researching,” she repeated. “Okay. Well, first, you’d need to know what topic you’re researching.”

“I have that.”

“And then you’ll want a more basic book detailing the topic,” she continued, “so you can find out what specific thing you want to research.”

“Right,” Lucas said. “Thanks, Annie.”

Annabeth glared at him, but Lucas could tell that she didn’t mind. “Don’t. Call. Me. That,” she hissed.

Lucas smirked. “Sure, Annie.”

“I will call you Aethalides from now on if you don’t stop,” she threatened.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Lucas threw his hands up. “Alright! Fine.”

Annabeth smiled. “That was easy, wasn’t it?” she said. After a few moments of silence, she added, “I’ll go get Luke. He’ll want to see you.” 

She left and came back with Luke, a few minutes later. He was smiling, but Lucas could see that it was a bit strained, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. 

“Hi,” Lucas said. “Have you been sleeping well?”

Luke stared at him. “Straight to the point, huh?” he commented, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Just the usual. You know. Demigod dreams.”

“Ah.” Lucas was pretty sure that wasn’t it. He knew Luke like he knew the sky was blue and that you needed oxygen to live. It was hard for them to lie to each other, especially when they weren’t really trying. Right now, Luke was playing with the hem of his shirt.

Annabeth coughed. “Awkward,” she said. “You two can… talk, or whatever; I have an Archery lesson to get to.” With that, she left, not bothering to hear their response.

Luke sighed. “She’s not subtle,” he noted.

“I know,” Lucas agreed. “She flat out told me that she was going to get you. Not that I’m complaining.”

“No.”

Lucas’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean,  ‘no?’ ” he demanded. “Are you messing with me? You better be messing with me.”

“... Maybe?”

Lucas huffed. “You’re mean,” he said. “What have you been doing lately.”

“Nothing much,” Luke replied. “Little bit of this, a little bit of that. Some camp activities, mostly.”

“Boring,” Lucas scoffed. “What, have you done nothing fun? No pranks or near-death experiences?”

“Near-death experiences are not fun,” Luke said indignantly. He sighed and said, “Well, fine. Maybe a little bit. But no, there have been no near-death experiences. As for pranks, no. Travis and Connor pissed off Cabin 7 a few weeks ago. The couplets curse just wore off yesterday. Not eager to piss off someone. You do remember what happened with Cabin 10?”

Lucas snorted. “Of course I do,” he replied. “Hard to forget what happened to Travis.”

“Permanent makeup did make him stand out,” Luke agreed.

“Forget making him stand out,” Lucas said. “He looked like a clown for weeks. ”

“A month,” Luke corrected him, but he was smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes. Still, he couldn’t help but smile along with Luke. It was a nice break from the stressful and emotionally draining year. Things might not be good right now, but Lucas believed that it would get better. It had to. Lucas was already very high-strung. He didn’t know what he’d do if it didn’t get better.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I think it’s a Horcrux,” Theo said.

“The hell is a Horcrux?” Lucas asked. And if he sounded a bit rude, sue him. He was tired and exams were approaching and there was only so much studying you could do until you got sick of reading and writing notes, even if you usually liked reading and homework. And reading through thick, old books for what magic was used on the diary was really testing his patience.

“It’s…” Theo trailed off, scanning the book he was reading,  Soul Splitting and Its Many Uses . “... hold on. Um, here:  ‘The Horcrux is the wickedest of magical inventions. First used by Herpo the Foul, the Horcrux conceals part of a person’s soul. Then, even if one’s body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged.’  It’s quite horrifying, and this is coming from someone with Death Eater parents.” He stared at Lucas. “I’m sure you understand. This is despicable. ”

“... okay?” Lucas said. “Could you explain  why  you think it’s a Horcrux?”

“Honestly, Draco, give him a break,” Pansy snapped. “Yes, it’s exhausting to flip through these books, but you shouldn’t act like that towards him.”

Lucas’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just… a bit high strung.”

“ Just  a bit?” Daphne teased.

“Yep.”

Theo cleared his throat. “Excuse me? I was going to explain!” he said.

“No one’s stopping you,” Lucas quipped, holding up his hands in an act of surrender.

“Okay,” he said. “Well, it says that the fragment of the soul is capable of thinking for itself, and it has certain magical powers, one of them being the ability to mentally influence and affect those in its vicinity. And if you’re more emotionally vulnerable, then the soul inside the Horcrux can take control of the person.”

“People tend to write about their insecurities and worries in a diary,” Lucas said. “And… Well, I’m not saying it is the soul of a Slytherin, but, you know. It most likely is.”

“You’re still saying it,” Theo grumbled.

“I’m not!” Lucas insisted. “I’m just saying. We tend to go to the dark side because of our ambition, and we are cunning and resourceful. I’m just saying that if Riddle is a Slytherin… oh wait. He is a Slytherin. I looked him up.” Lucas sighed. “Stupid me. Anyway, if Riddle listened to Ginny, and comforted her, then she’d be inclined to keep confiding in him, which would make her more vulnerable.”

Daphne pursed her lips. “Merlin’s beard,” she sighed. “Okay, does it say anything about how to destroy it?”

“It says for a Horcrux to be destroyed, it has to be destroyed beyond repair,” Pansy piped up. “So… no ripping it to pieces.”

Lucas groaned. Celestial Bronze might work. If it didn’t, Greek fire would. And if it didn’t… well. They’d be utterly screwed. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 28: Tom Marvolo Riddle

Lucas buried his face in his hands. He had to fix this. He had to. It was partly his fault they were in this mess, after all. If he hadn’t put the diary in the Chamber of Secrets, it would never have gotten strong enough to repossess Ginny. The diary was still in the Chamber. Fuck. How was he supposed to get there? During the night, maybe? It usually worked. And he had Celestial Bronze. If that didn’t work Greek fire definitely would. Granted, he’d have to make some, and some of the ingredients were hard to get. Like bitumen, also known as asphalt. Or sulphur.  

“Are you okay, Draco?” Daphne asked. 

“We’re screwed,” Lucas declared.

“So… you don’t have anything that can destroy it beyond repair?” Theo asked hopefully.

“Well,” Lucas said, “I do, but I’m not sure it will work. I also have another solution - Greek fire, but I’ll have to make it, and some of the materials are crazy hard to get.”

“What are the materials?” Pansy asked, setting down  Soul Splitting and Its Many Uses. 

“Well, there’s nectar, which is a type of healing potion;” Lucas listed, “alcohol, which shouldn’t be too hard to come by; a pitch from old torches, which is basically a resin that comes from torches; quicklime, which is created from burning a source of calcium carbonate, like chalk; bitumen, which is basically asphalt; sulphur, which requires sodium thiosulphate, which requires sulphur; and a catalyst, such as electricity,” he finished. “And those are just some of them. There are more.”

Theo stared at him. “Do I want to know why you know how to make these ingredients?” he asked.

“I had a chemistry textbook that I borrowed from a friend,” Lucas said. 

“Chemistry,” he repeated.

“It’s the study of matter and its behaviour,” Lucas explained. “It’s similar to potions and alchemy.”

“But isn’t that supposed to be hard?” Daphne asked. “I mean, don’t they start teaching it in 9th or 10th grade?”

Lucas shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “I just never found it particularly hard. Come to think of it, Potions isn’t too hard for me, either.”

“And you won’t burn down the castle with this ‘Greek fire?’” Theo asked.

“Um.” Lucas thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so?”

“You don’t think so,” he repeated flatly. “How sure are you that it won’t burn Hogwarts down?”

“Twenty-five percent?”

“Try your first solution first,” Pansy interrupted, sighing. “Whatever you do,  don’t burn the castle down. ” 

Lucas huffed, rolling his eyes. “Arson is half the fun, Pans!”

“Don’t call me that,” she said. “My name is short enough; I don’t need you shortening it even more.”

“Fine.” He grasped the handle of his pistol. It had to work. If it didn’t… Well, the Muggle-borns might as well as already be dead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If he was being honest, Lucas didn’t like exams. They were long and draining, and they required a lot of patience, something Lucas had very little of. However, they were always at the end of the year, which made it much better. But, still. Exams were horrible. 

So Lucas kept studying. And studying. And at breakfast, three days before the exams would start, McGonagall made an announcement.

“I have good news,” she announced. Instead of falling silent, as they should have, the Great Hall erupted with even more noise.

“Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people exclaimed.

“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” Áine squealed.

“Quidditch matches are back on!” Wood roared vigorously.

The yelling continued for a bit, but instead of telling everyone to calm down, McGonagall merely waited until everyone had quieted down on their own.

“Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”

Cheers exploded, but Lucas, like the rest of his fellow Slytherins, did not clap, if not for an entirely different reason.  “I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what attacked them.”  Seriously? Didn’t he already tell them it was a Basilisk? He gave them proof and listed the reasons why he thought knew it was a Basilisk. Was his word not enough? Why wouldn’t they even consider it? Was it because he was only a child? Or was it because he was a Slytherin?

“What is it, Draco?” Daphne asked, frowning.

Lucas started. “Nothing.” He tapped a rhythm on the table and sighed. “I just… I told them it was a Basilisk! Now they’re saying that the ones Petrified might be able to tell them what attacked them? What, is my word not enough? They said that if anyone knew anything about the attacks, then we’d be advised to come forward. And I did! What do I need to do to get them to believe me; drag it to McGonagall’s office and tell her it’s attacking the students?” He took a deep breath, taking in his friends’ stares. “Sorry. It just frustrates me.” Calling Lyra it pained him, but they were in public. Anyone could hear what he was saying.

“You do have a point,” Adair interrupted. Ze speared a sausage onto zir fork. “The other houses don’t like us, just because of a few bad apples. I mean,  I  have it bad, but you guys must have it worse, especially you two.” Ze pointed at Lucas and Theo. “Your parents are Death Eaters, and in their eyes, that’s worse than being a Slytherin.”

“Well, you’d understand,” Lucas said. “We often overlook you, but you have it bad, too.”

Adair smiled bitterly, nodding. “I say that being ignored is worse than being mocked or being taunted,” ze agreed. “If they’re not mocking us or accusing us of being evil, they’re ignoring us. And for me… well, I feel that being ignored is worse.” Ze looked at them. “I remember my sorting. After I got sorted into Slytherin… it was silent. Everyone knew that I was a Muggle-born. It’s my surname.”

“Kelly,” Pansy filled in. Lucas immediately felt bad. He hadn’t even known zir last name, too caught up in the belief that every Slytherin was bad, and he was the only exception. The other houses accused them of being prejudiced, but were they really different?

“Yeah,” ze said. “Of course, in their eyes, I could’ve been a half-blood, but I wasn’t exactly subtle. Everyone knew that the idea of magic was foreign to Áine and I. Nobody would talk to me other than Áine. You have the luxury of talking to other Slytherins. Malfoy, you walk up to people and you’re not afraid of being rejected.”

Lucas snorted. “I’m sure,” he drawled. “At first it was a desire not to be associated with other Slytherins.”

“And now?” Daphne asked.

“Now, it’s more about proving the others wrong,” he admitted. “Maybe if I can get the other houses to accept that not every Slytherin will turn out evil, then we won’t be forever stuck in this cycle of hate and prejudice. If I can get them to stop assuming things, maybe we won’t turn evil because it’s easier to be what they think we are than to convince them that we aren’t.”

Adair beamed. “Well said,” ze declared. “You know, you four were the first ones to talk to me in my three years here. Sure, you didn’t talk to me in your first year, but that’s alright. The first year can be overwhelming, regardless of blood status, I’m sure. But you still talked to me.”

Lucas nodded, returning to his meal. That was true, but he never understood how hard ze had it. He just assumed that Adair was just a Slytherin trying to blend in. But both of them were disliked among their housemates, and they both grew up ignorant of the Wizarding World, even if ze didn’t know the latter part. But, at least ze had never dragged zir friends into being hated by nearly all of Slytherin. He still felt guilty over that, even if they might’ve become much worse people if he hadn’t befriended them.

But there was still the problem of Lyra. She couldn’t control attacking Muggle-borns any more than Ginny could wrest control from Riddle, but she wasn’t going to die, either. Not on Lucas’s watch. 

It was funny, he mused, a smirk tugging at his lips. He spent his entire life fearing and fighting monsters, and here he was, trying to keep one alive because she was a dear friend. If anyone had told him that he’d become friends with a monster and try to keep her alive, he’d have laughed in their face and called them crazy.

“What’s so funny?” Theo asked.

“Nothing,” Lucas replied. His shoulders slumped. The only way he’d succeed in keeping Lyra alive was if he stopped the attacks himself. Fortunately, it would be easy. All he had to do was to destroy the diary. Then, the Horcrux would be destroyed, and Riddle wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again. Hopefully. That was if he didn’t have any other Horcruxes.

Hopefully, he didn’t. That would make his job much more difficult. But nobody in history had ever made more than one Horcrux. Anyway, it was much too dangerous. According to  Soul Splitting and Its Many Uses,  the more one split their soul, the more unstable their soul became. Lucas wasn’t sure if it were possible, but the book had hinted that too many Horcruxes could destroy the soul beyond repair. 

The soul was pretty fragile, after all. It didn’t take much to corrupt a person, and Lucas suspected it was the same for souls. 

But, he’d just have to sneak down to Chamber and try to shoot the diary. The Chamber would disguise the sound, and if it didn’t work, he had Plan B.

… Would there be a room where he could set up a shooting range to practice his shooting? Preferably with moving targets?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, classes passed on as usual. Lucas had tried to sneak out during the night, but Peeves had seen him, much to his chagrin. After seeing Lucas, Peeves had caused a huge ruckus, and Lucas had immediately fled. Normally Peeves liked him, but Lucas supposed that he was trying to help him in his own way. It was heartwarming to see, but it wasn’t what Lucas needed. He’d have to try again.

But as Professor Flitwick was escorting them to Potions, they passed by the corridor where Mrs. Norris was Petrified. The message was still there, though it had faded a bit, courtesy of Filch’s efforts. But underneath it was another one. It was hard to read, but Lucas was pretty sure it said,  Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.  In truth, it looked more like this:  Her solekten lliw lei in the Cehambr feorevr.  It should’ve been very hard to read, but Lucas had gotten very good at unscrambling words. Usually, he used a spell to help him read, but he wasn’t about to cast it in the middle of the corridor. The context also helped.

Immediately after reading the message, Lucas’s mind jumped to Ginny. Who else would Riddle take? He halted, tapping Daphne.

“What?” she asked, turning around. 

“Could you make a distraction,” he requested. “Please? I’m going down. It really can’t wait. Please, Daphne.”

“Okay,” she said, though she was frowning. Even so, she flicked her wand and cast the Smokescreen spell, allowing Lucas to slip away unnoticed. 

Lucas crept along the halls cautiously, watching for any teachers. Not for the first time, he wished he knew how to make himself invisible, but those spells were fairly advanced. Despite that, he wanted to learn how to cast those spells. It would certainly make his life much easier. Maybe he could steal Annabeth’s hat. Or maybe not. He’d be killed, leaving an unfinished quest.

Eventually, Lucas decided to make a run for it. He was close enough - close enough that it didn’t matter whether anyone saw him. He skidded to a stop in front of the tapestry.

“Lyra,” he gasped out, not wasting any time before he charged into the tapestry. He darted down the corridor and down the stairs, not stopping as he kept running. 

“Ginny!” he bellowed, scanning the living room. No sign of her. Right. He was the only one to come into this section of the Chamber in centuries. She would be in Lyra’s part of the Chamber. He turned around and ran in the opposite direction of the lounge, which was a storage room. Lucas kicked and shoved items into corners, revealing the brass trapdoor, with seven snakes carved into it, all of them facing the same direction. To the right.

Lucas hissed out the password, barely giving the trapdoor enough time to slide to the left, before sliding down the chute that was below it. The chute was rather clean. Despite charms being cast on the Chamber, they had faded over time, filling the Chamber with dust and cobwebs and rust on some areas.

The chute wasn’t very practical, despite being clean. It opened up about fifteen metres above the ground, and pure instinct was the only thing that kept him from spraining his ankle. He tucked in his head and hit the ground rolling, coming up standing. 

Lucas scanned the room. Well, he says room. It was more of a ginormous cavern. Unlike most of the Chamber, the room was devoid of most furniture. The ground and walls were uneven, and a layer of dirt caked the floor, giving it a dirty feel. Even so, it was easy to see that Ginny wasn’t there. Her red hair would’ve been very obvious amongst the dark dirt. Walking to the section of wall bulging out that marked the entrance/exit to the cavern room, he hissed out the password and peered out.

He had done this several times before, but he was never in a hurry. He couldn’t be. If he was too fast, then he could easily plummet down. It might not kill him, but he would probably break his foot or twist his ankle. He was in a hurry, and he had no time for that. But he also had no time to make his way down slowly.

Lucas shrugged. What the Hades. He could easily heal those with ambrosia or nectar. What he couldn’t do was resurrect Ginny if she was dead.

With that, he jumped out of the mouth of Salazar Slytherin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite what Lyra would say later, Lucas most definitely did not scream like a girl and flail around. Nope. What screaming? He didn’t scream.

What he did do, was plummet down to the ground, with his robes flapping around him. By some miracle, he didn’t break or sprain anything when he hit the ground. Okay. Maybe his arm and shoulders hurt a bit. But even though he hit the ground rolling, he expected to get worse injuries. A few bruises were nothing.

Lucas scanned the floor, pulled out his wand and cast Lumos to make it easier to see Ginny. Not that he needed to. Behind him, laid Ginny, with her red hair casting a fiery halo around her head.

Lucas dropped to his knees, flinging his wand aside as he cradled Ginny’s head with his hands. “Ginny!” he muttered, releasing her head to check her pulse. He could still feel the rhythm of her pulse, but it was weak and her face was white as some of the statues that were scattered around Camp Half-Blood. Lucas nudged her shoulder lightly, trying to wake her. No such luck. 

“Ginny, you’ve got to wake up,” Lucas pleaded quietly. There was no point in being quiet when no one would hear him, but in the dead silence, even his whispers sounded deafening. But she couldn’t die here. What would he tell the twins? How could he ever look at himself again, knowing that he had once again failed a friend? Several, even?

“She won’t wake,” a soft voice said. 

Lucas spun around, getting to his feet. Before him was a tall, familiar black-haired boy who looked a few years older than him. He was leaning against one of the pillars, watching him. But there was something different about him. His sides were blurred as if he was standing on the other side of a frosted window. 

Lucas gaped at him. Memories of a vision featuring the boy and a photo of him looking a year older came loose as he remembered why he was familiar. What was his name?

“You’re Tom Riddle,” Lucas realized, gaining back control of his speech.

Riddle nodded, continuing to stare at him.

Lucas frowned. “How old are you?” he asked. It was blunt, but maybe if he distracted Riddle enough, he would be able to destroy the diary without getting hurt in the process.

Well, it worked. Riddle looked very taken aback. “You know, that’s very rude,” he said. “Didn’t your mum teach you not to talk to your elders like that?”

Lucas smirked, knowing it would infuriate him. “Well, I wouldn’t know. I ran away from home when I was eight,” he said. Nothing he said would get out of the Chamber, so there was no point in hiding it. “She couldn’t string together a piece of advice with her state of mind, anyway.” And so what, if he was a bit bitter? Her fits had scared him half to death. Some nights he felt nothing but guilty for running. He was allowed to be bitter about his life.

Riddle’s high, cold laugh cut through Lucas’s thoughts, sending a shiver down his spine. Lucas thought that it didn’t suit him at all. “Very interesting,” he said. His gaze made Lucas feel like a specimen being dissected and he realized with a jolt that his wand was in Riddle’s hands. “You know, you’ve caused me a lot of trouble, Draco Malfoy. Keeping Ginny Weasley away from me?” He smiled cruelly. “Well, I’m glad that it worked out in my favour. Keeping my diary here? That was the best thing you’d ever done. In the end, it doesn’t matter that you kept my diary away from little Ginny.” He flicked Lucas’s wand carelessly, twirling it as sparks came out of the tip. “How will you stop me? You can’t. You’re only a second year.”

Lucas clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. This was starting to sound familiar. “I will,” he said. “I will stop you.” That was a promise, not a threat as he thought it was when he had that vision. He had everything he needed to destroy Riddle, to destroy that Horcrux. Riddle was nothing more than a fragment of his soul.

“You can’t, ” Riddle mocked, smiling broadly. “How would you stop me, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin? As a Pure-Blood, you shouldn't be stopping me." Riddle leaned forward and whispered, "You have to let the Basilisk purge the castle of the Mudbloods.” He tilted his head, a pensive look on his face. “Though it wouldn’t be a surprise if you were a disappointment. After all, you ran, didn’t you? No self-respecting Pure-Blood would run away from home like you did.”

Lucas clenched his jaw. It wasn’t true, he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t even a Pure-Blood. His mother was May Castellan, a Muggle-Born witch. He was a Half-Blood. The claim wasn’t even true. Then why was he so upset over it?

“Riddle’s a Muggle surname,” Lucas pointed out. “Which would mean that you’re a Half-Blood. What would you know about what a Pure-Blood is supposed to do?”

“More than you would,” Riddle hissed, with a pink tinge in his cheeks. “Though, it’s interesting, isn’t it? How does a Pure-Blood with no respect for his heritage and no relation to Salazar Slytherin manage to convince a Basilisk to stop attacking the Mudbloods?”

“Why do you care?” Lucas retorted. “Yes, I’m a Parselmouth. So what? You can control Lyra, I can only talk to her.”

Riddle raised a thin, black eyebrow. “So that’s its name,” he murmured. “It may not matter to you, but it does to me. Why should you, a disrespectful Pure-Blood with no extraordinary magical talent, be able to speak to snakes?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “You tell me. You think Slytherin was the only Parselmouth at the time? Why do you care if I’m more powerful than you, anyway?”

“You are not!” he snapped. “I am. I am the greatest Dark wizard of all time.”

“I thought that was You-Know-Who?” Lucas asked. 

“At least you know respect,” he muttered.

“Names have power.”

“Nevertheless,” Riddle continued, ignoring him, “Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Draco Malfoy.”

Using Lucas’s wand, he traced it through the air, creating three glimmering words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then, he waved it, and the words rearranged themselves, creating a sentence:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

“You see?” Riddle whispered. “It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father’s name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Draco. I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

Even through his shock, Lucas managed to chuckle, and said, “Pretty sure that’s Dumbledore, but we’ll have it your way.”

A very ugly look had started to creep onto Riddle’s face, and if Lucas concentrated, he could see that Riddle’s eyes almost seemed red.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed.

“You sure?” Lucas asked. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure a wizard as old as him wouldn’t be driven out of the castle by those Ministry idiots.”

Riddle scowled. “Regardless, he won’t be able to get here. It’s just us. Dumbledore can’t help you.”

“I don’t need him to help me,” Lucas shot back. “I don’t want him to. You think I want to be protected and coddled by a loony old man with a tendency to favour Gryffindors? I survived on my own without adults and I can do it again. You think you’re so powerful? You don’t have the experience that I do.”

“I’m sure,” Riddle scoffed. “Now, Draco, I’m going to teach you a little lesson. Let’s match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against Draco Malfoy and his so-called experience.”

Riddle gave him an amused look and walked away. Lucas watched him stop in front of Salazar’s statue and Riddle opened his mouth and hissed, “Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”

Lucas muttered a few curses in Ancient Greek that would’ve surely gotten him expelled from any school if he had been caught by a teacher. Riddle was getting Lyra to kill him. He was trying to control her. Feeling a surge of rage for his friend, he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Riddle. He wasn’t even sure why he kept it on him at all times, but it sure came in handy. Besides, he had used it for years. It was his favourite, though a knife came in second. Without thinking, Lucas aimed it at Riddle and pulled the trigger. The bullet punched through Riddle. 

But there was a downside to it. He now had a smoking muzzle, which meant he had to run while holding a gun. Which was a terrible idea, but what choice did he have?

However, he had waited too long - while he was deciding what to do, Riddle had healed from the bullet. “Kill him! ” he hissed, sounding furious.

Lucas didn’t hesitate: he immediately ran to the right, hoping that Lyra would miss him. He screwed his eyes shut, running along the wall. He didn’t want to get Petrified, with the numerous puddles there. What he needed at the moment was the diary. If he shot it, Riddle would be destroyed, and with him, his hold on Lyra would relinquish.

The gun was still in his hand. Tripping would cause him to burn himself, which he didn’t want. He had burnt himself several times via the muzzle before, and he really didn’t want to reenact it. So, opening his eyes, Lucas looked at the ground, searching for the small, black book.

It hadn’t moved from its previous place. However, he could see Lyra’s tail next to it. So, what he did next was something that could very possibly be the most stupid thing that Lucas had ever done: he acted as bait and then left as soon as he could.

The whole idea was to lead Lyra away from the diary so he could run back to it and shoot it without fear of getting killed.

It started out okay. Lucas darted to the other side of the Chamber, and Lyra followed. He had kept his eyes closed for that bit, but at that point, he opened them, keeping his gaze on the ground. He’d rather get Petrified than go down without a fight. Then, he ran back to the diary, leaping over her tail as he did so.

But Lyra was also quick. As soon as he leapt over her tail, her tail whipped across the floor and sent him flying. Lucas crashed into Salazar’s statue sideways.

Lucas groaned, wincing as he picked up his gun. Luckily, it had landed near his feet and he didn’t burn himself. Ignoring the excruciating pain and the bruises and cuts that were surely forming on his face, Lucas once again aimed the trigger and pulled the trigger.

Riddle screamed. Actually, he wasn’t sure if it was coming from Riddle or the diary. He was too busy trying to push back the wave of pain that surged through him from the recoil. It had been a long time since recoil had given him pain, but shooting after being beaten up would probably do that, even if his gun had low recoil. He was lucky to not have accidentally shot himself. He didn’t really aim, having been in a rush.

But there was still screaming. The ink was streaming out of the Horcrux like blood, and Riddle was flailing and twisting in the air, screaming bloody murder. Then, Lucas’s wand fell to the ground with a scatter and it was silent. Eerily so. There was no sound except for the steady dripping of ink as it continued to pour from the diary and Lucas’s laboured breathing.

Lucas heaved a sigh of relief, even if it hurt his ribs. Actually, it hurt to breathe. Lucas felt like someone had slammed a battering ram into his chest. Repeatedly. Okay, so, maybe he was exaggerating. So what? He’d just been slammed into stone. He deserved to have the right to exaggerate.

Lucas stood there for a few minutes, trying to regulate his breathing and make the pain less painful when he heard a faint groan. Ginny had woken up. About time. As Lucas limped towards her, grimacing in pain, she sat up. Her eyes traced over Lucas and his wounds, and she let out a gasp.

“Draco!” she cried out. “I… I don’t know what happened! One moment I was in class and the next I was here. And wh… where’s Riddle? The last thing I remember is him coming out of that diary.”

“He’s gone,” Lucas reassured her. “Destroyed. He won’t hurt you ever again.”

Ginny sighed in relief, but her eyes remained glued to his face. “What happened to your face?” she asked tentatively.

“It’s… uh, nothing,” Lucas said. “Doesn’t hurt too much.” He tried to smile but broke off in a grimace. “Really. I’m fine. I just took a hard hit. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can’t fix.”

She nodded, but she still didn’t look convinced. Lucas was sure she’d be even more concerned if he told her it hurt to breathe. Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, loud footsteps could be heard. Both of their heads turned towards the sound, and Lucas huffed in annoyance once he saw who it was.

It was Potter. His timing couldn’t have been any better. Why couldn’t he have come earlier? Lucas was not in the mood to deal with Potter. He’d be more likely to kill him, and that was not what he needed.

Instead, Lucas glared at him as hard as he could.

“You’re late.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 29: Ginny’s Story

Potter gaped at both of them. If Lucas wasn’t in so much pain, he might’ve laughed at him.

“I-is that a gun?” Potter demanded. “Why do you have a gun?”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “It’s a SIG Sauer P226,” he drawled. “And why can’t I have a gun? I can shoot it, and that’s enough. I know how to handle one.” He added to Ginny, “You don’t want to know.”

“What did you do to her?” Potter continued to demand when he saw Ginny nod at him. “Don’t deny it; I know you’re the Heir.”

Lucas threw his hands up, not caring if the gun fired or not. Maybe it’d intimidate Potter. Why did he have to deal with such stupidity? “What proof do you have that I’m the Heir of Slytherin?” Lucas snarled. He was absolutely done. He really didn’t want to deal with Potter when he had broken ribs. “I  told you  I’m not the Heir. Here’s what happened. I saw the message, I rushed down here, and I got rid of Riddle. Is that enough for you?”

“He’s telling the truth,” Ginny piped up. When Potter still looked suspicious, Lucas rolled his eyes.

“Does she look like she’s under mind control?” he demanded. “Does she? Someone under mind control doesn’t act this lively. And I’m  flattered  that you think so highly of my magical prowess, but I’m sorry to break it to you, St. Potter, but it takes  years of study  to master curses! So you can get off your high horse, accept that there are good Slytherins and that just because You-Know-Who came from our house, it doesn’t mean that we’re all evil. I have a friend who’s a Muggle-born, and the only reason she’s shunned is because of her house! Do you know how hard it is to be alone, to have your words ignored? I told Snape that it was a Basilisk, and he told McGonagall. But did she listen?  No!  You know what? I’m sick of your attitude. You call us prejudiced but are you really different? We’re only evil as long as you tell us we’re destined to be evil. I came down here to save Ginny and got knocked into a  stone statue in the process,  but do you acknowledge that I can have good intentions? No! Because according to you, as a Slytherin, I can only have bad intentions! How is that fair?”

“He’s really friendly,” Ginny insisted. “Nothing like you think he is. And he’s hurt. It’s not fair to be mean to an injured person.” Getting up, she reached for the diary and gave it to Lucas. “I think you’ll need this.”

Lucas smiled, but it was more like a grimace, with the amount of pain he was in. Starting a rant with broken ribs was not helpful with pain management. “Thanks,” he said. He walked over to his wand, picking it up and tapped the tip to the gun, cooling it off. He tucked it away. “Can we go now? I want my ribs healed.”

“Can you walk?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“I just did,” he deadpanned. “Besides, I hit my ribs and my face, not my legs. Well, there’s probably a few bruises on my legs, but bruises are nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

They made their way to where Weasley was waiting for Potter, with Potter in the lead, since only Potter knew the way and there was no way Lucas was showing Potter the other entrance. He was petty like that.

“I’m going to be expelled,” Ginny whispered anxiously. “I’ve been wanting to go here ever since Bill came, and now I’ll have to go home! What’ll Mum and Dad say?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucas said. “It wasn’t your fault. It was Riddle’s. They’ll understand. And if they don’t, I’ll yell at them.”

Ginny giggled. “Thanks,” she said.

“Well, that’s what friends are for.”

Eventually, Lucas heard the distant sound of shifting rock. Potter had heard it too since he surged forward and yelled, “Ron! Ginny’s okay! I’ve got her!”

Lucas heard Weasley give a strangled cheer, and he saw Weasley’s eager, freckled face in the hole he made in the wall of crumbled stone.

“ Ginny! ” Weasley thrust an eager arm out and pulled Ginny through first, much to Lucas’s amusement. It seemed that all siblings were the same. “You’re alive! I don’t believe it! What happened?”

He hugged her, and Ginny let herself be embraced, but she made no move to return the hug. She seemed to still be in shock.

“She came into contact with a Horcrux,” Lucas explained, squeezing through after her. 

“Why are  you  here?” Weasley demanded, scowling. “And what the hell is a Horcrux?”

“I found him there,” Potter said, crawling in after Lucas. “Dunno what he was doing there. He claims he was helping Ginny.”

“Oh, stop it, you two,” Ginny said, pushing herself away from Ron. “Draco helped me, simple as that. He’s right, you know. There’s the stereotype of evil Slytherins that it’s all we see them as. I think Draco’s proof that that stereotype doesn’t apply to all Slytherins.”

Potter and Weasley were still scowling, but they made no accusations toward Lucas, which was fine by him. Lucas scanned the area, walking forward, but froze as he saw Lockhart sitting on the ground humming happily.

He spun around. “What…”

“His memory’s gone,” Weasley explained. “The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn’t got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He’s a danger to himself.”

“Good riddance,” Lucas scoffed. “One more day with him, and I might’ve actually killed him. Maybe amnesia will humble him.” Even as he said it, Lucas didn’t believe it. He still wanted to punch Lockhart in his perfect teeth.

“Hello,” Lockhart said, smiling at them. “Odd sort of place, this, isn’t it? Do you live here?”

“No,” Weasley said, glancing back at Potter. He asked Potter, “Have you thought about how we’re going to get back up this?”

Lucas peered at the chute. “I doubt they built a chute and left it at that,” he reasoned. “Maybe it turns into a staircase?” He poked at the wall with his wand with no success. But when he tapped the chute with it, something happened.

There was a loud rumbling, and the chute changed into a rickety wooden staircase. It didn’t look too stable, but it was better than trying to climb up a grimy chute. Lucas smirked at Potter and Weasley. “You should really use your brains more often,” he said. “It does wonders for your intelligence.” With that, he made his way up the stairs, careful not to make too exaggerated movements. He didn’t need to be in any more pain. 

The rest of them followed behind him because apparently, he was in charge. As Lockhart came up, the sink closed behind them, and it was then that Lucas realized where they were.

“A bathroom?” he demanded. “Seriously?” He stared at the ghost standing (floating?) next to them. The ghost was unmistakably a girl. “A girls’ bathroom, no less.”

The ghost goggled at them. “You’re alive,” she said to Potter blankly. 

“There’s no need to sound so disappointed,” Potter replied, wiping the slime off his glasses. 

“Oh, well… I’d just been thinking. If you died, you’d have been welcome to share my toilet.”

Lucas pressed his lips as they left the bathroom, which turned to laughter, then a grimace as he felt white-hot needles poke his chest. “Ow, ow, ow,” he said. “Note to self: don’t laugh with broken ribs.”

“I think Myrtle’s gotten  fond  of you, Harry!” Weasley exclaimed. “You’ve got competition, Ginny!”

Ginny didn’t reply, but Lucas couldn’t help but feel amused. “Shall we find McGonagall?” he asked them. “She’s your Head of House, after all.”

The rest of them agreed, and Potter led them to McGonagall’s office. They strode after him, and when they got there, Potter knocked on the door, walking in with them trailing after him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For a moment, there was nothing but silence as Potter, Weasley, and Ginny stood there covered in muck and slime. In Lucas’s case, he stood there covered in dirt and torn robes, with cuts and bruises littered all over his face. Then, someone screamed.

“ Ginny! ”

It was a woman with fiery red hair and warm brown eyes who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, who he had met in Flourish and Blotts at the start of the school year. If he had to guess, he would say that the woman was Ginny’s mother and Mr. Weasley’s wife. The two of them flung themselves on their daughter, holding onto her as if they weren’t sure if she was really there.

Lucas scanned the room. Dumbledore was standing next to the mantlepiece, beaming, while McGonagall was standing next to him, taking big gasps of air, clutching her chest. Lucas stared at them for a few seconds before he found himself being squeezed by Mrs. Weasley’s embrace.

Lucas choked, feeling the pins and needles coming back, poking at his chest and his lungs. His eyes burned with the pain. His ribs weren’t broken, Lucas decided. Just fractured. If they were broken, he would’ve died already. That didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

“You saved her! You saved her!  How  did you do it? Oh, you poor thing, what happened to your face?”

“I think we’d all like to know that,” McGonagall said, her voice weak.

Mrs. Weasley let go of them, and Lucas thought for a moment, wondering how to tell them and what he should tell them. But as he was thinking, Potter had started speaking.

Potter told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione realized that he had heard a Basilisk in the pipes and how he and Weasley had followed the spiders into the Forbidden Forest. He told them that Aragog told him and Weasley where the last victim of Lyra had died; how he guessed that the last victim was Myrtle, the ghost in the bathroom, and the entrance might’ve been in the bathroom.

“Very well,” McGonagall said, once Harry paused, “so you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on  earth  did you all get out of there alive, Potter?”

Potter glanced at Lucas. With a jolt, Lucas realized that Potter was trusting him to speak. Potter was trusting  him  to speak the truth and not twist it. Maybe his rant had gotten through to his thick skull.

So Lucas put the diary on the desk, and he spoke of his own side of the story. He told them how he saw his “father” slip the diary in Ginny’s cauldron and how he asked Fred and George to take it from her. He told them how he went to the library to search for who Riddle was and how he had also researched what could possibly have attacked the students. He told them how he had realized that the diary was a Horcrux (telling them that he read about it in one of the books in the Manor) and explained what it was. He told them about how he made some Greek fire and rushed down to the Chamber of Secrets when he passed the message. He told them of his encounter with Riddle and how he revealed that he was Voldemort, though he didn’t say his name. He told them of how Riddle called Lyra and sent her to kill her, and he told them about how he got thrown into the statue and how he dipped a stick lying around in Greek fire and burnt a hole in the diary.

When he finished, everyone was staring at him, stunned. Dumbledore picked up the diary with its soggy, burnt pages and peered at it. “Brilliant,” Dumbledore said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts had ever seen. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… travelled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”

Mr. Weasley turned to Ginny, looking very shocked. “Haven’t I taught you  anything ?” he asked her. “What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself  if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.  Why didn’t you show the diary to me or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was  clearly  full of Dark magic!”

Ginny looked up, and Lucas noticed that her eyes were glistening. “I… I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it…”

“Miss. Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interjected firmly. “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He walked towards the door and swung it up open, adding, “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the Basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment.”

“So Hermione’s okay!” Weasley exclaimed. 

“There has been no lasting damage done,” Dumbledore told them. “Mr. Malfoy should take a visit as well to check his injuries.”

Lucas sighed. Great. More fussing. Nevertheless, he let Mrs. Weasley herd him and Ginny to the hospital wing, with Mr. Weasley trailing after them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucas woke up during the middle of the night to Dobby jumping on the foot of his bed. He jerked up, muscles tense until he realized it was just Dobby.

“Dobby,” he greeted tiredly. “How’d you get here?”

“Master came by earlier,” the house-elf said. “Master told Dobby to keep watch over you.”

Lucas took a closer look at Dobby. The house-elf was wrapped in bandages, and bruises littered his face, much like how they had covered Lucas’s face earlier before Madam Pomfrey had made them disappear with a flick of her wand.

“Dobby,” he said slowly, “if I gave you my tie, would it free you?”

Dobby nodded cautiously.

“Great!” Lucas exclaimed, taking care to keep his voice low. “Have this, then.” He picked up his green and silver tie, which he had left dangling on the headboard. He gave it to Dobby and watched with great satisfaction as Dobby’s entire demeanour changed.

Dobby stared at Lucas’s tie as if it was the best thing in the entire world. “Master Lucas has given Dobby his tie!” Dobby shrieked shrilly. “Master Lucas has set Dobby free!”

Lucas winced. “Could you keep it down?” he asked. “I don’t want you to wake Ginny up. And you can call me Lucas, but not in public, okay?”

Dobby nodded eagerly. “Draco Malfoy has set Dobby free,” he corrected himself. He repeated this a few times before announcing, “Dobby is forever in your debt!” and hugged him.

Lucas patted Dobby’s head awkwardly. “It’s the least I could do,” he said. “I don’t like seeing anyone being hurt.”

Dobby squeezed him even harder. “Draco Malfoy is greater by far than Dobby knew! Farewell, Draco Malfoy!”

With a loud crack, Dobby disappeared.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Lucas woke up with several different dishes on his nightstand and a long, white beard in his face.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Dumbledore cried. “Excellent, excellent. Your friends came by earlier. I believe the food was courtesy of Miss. Lovegood. She has such a talent in Charms.”

Lucas stared at him, unsure if he was dreaming or not. What was Dumbledore  doing here?

“I have already informed Mr. Potter and Weasley of this, but I see no reason why you should be exempt from this,” Dumbledore continued. “Your actions yesterday have proved that you don’t have to be a Gryffindor to be brave. Thus, you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - yes, I think two hundred points for Slytherin.”

Lucas gaped at him. Two hundred points. That was more points than he had ever won for Slytherin. “Gryffindor’ll still win the House Cup, won’t they?” he blurted out.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Unfortunately,” he said. “I know how much you wish to win the House Cup. You’ll also be pleased to know that exams have been cancelled as a school treat, and Professor Lockhart is leaving to try and get his memory back.”

Good riddance,  Lucas thought.  Though he was really starting to grow on me. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the term passed in a blur. The school was back to normal, though there was a lack of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes (not that they were useful that year in the first place), and his “father” had been sacked as a school governor, which was fine by him.

Time flew by, and soon, it was the end of the school year. Ginny had somehow managed to convince him to join her and the twins, Hermione, Potter, and Weasley. Though he would deny it. He convinced people, not the other way around.

“Hey,” Lucas said, poking his head in. “Ginny invited me?”

Potter blinked at him. “Since when do you wear Muggle clothes?”

“They’re more practical,” Lucas replied, scowling. He had changed his clothes immediately after boarding the train. “I  hate  robes. It’s a tripping hazard.”

Ginny giggled. “Of course,” she said. “The Pure-Blood wizard with a hatred for wizard robes.” Lucas glared at her, but that only made her laugh harder.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, plopping down on the seat. “Laugh it up. So. Anything new happen?”

“Just the usual,” Hermione said. 

Ginny, however, stunned them speechless. “Percy has a  girlfriend ,” she said, still giggling. 

“ What?"  Fred demanded, dropping a stack of books on George.

“It’s that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” Ginny explained. “That’s who he was writing to all last summer. He’s been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was - you know - attacked. You won’t tease him, will you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fred said, looking as if it were Christmas.

“Definitely not,” George agreed.

Lucas snorted. Of course Percy had a girlfriend. He was what, sixteen? Seventeen? It was only natural that he’d have one.

“You’re much nicer than I thought you’d be,” Ron told him.

Lucas couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes. “Which you’d know if you decided to treat me normally instead of like vermin.”

Ron turned red and opened his mouth to say something, but Ginny interjected.

“Please stop,” she said. “He’s in the wrong, yes, but that’s in the past. He’s trying to make up for it.” She glared at him. “Aren’t you?”

“Fine,” Weasley said. “I, um, I think you’ve got really nice hair. Draco.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said.

The rest of the train ride passed in a blur as they chatted. Potter and Weasley weren’t as hostile to Lucas anymore, but at least they weren’t enemies anymore. More like frenemies. Lucas was proud to say that he had made Weasley and Potter laugh thrice.

When the Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped, Potter pulled out his quill and wrote something on a piece of parchment.

Lucas turned to Ginny and the twins. “I’ll write to you over the summer,” he said. “Hermione, too.” With that, they walked off the train, and Lucas went over to Luna, who had just come off the train.

He tapped her on the shoulder. “See you at Camp?”

Luna beamed. “Definitely,” she agreed. “See you then!”