Archive of Our Own ^beta

Enjoy, review, ask questions.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

This is very AU, it will be much much more magical, more competent adults. Less people carrying idiot balls for no apparent reason.

Because of this canon will definitely be completely shot pretty quick. So if that's not your cup of tea - this story is probably not for you.

Hope you enjoy.

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It didn't come as a surprise to me. That I was magical that is. The first instant of experiencing accidental magic in the orphanage that I could remember; making a bully trip on his suddenly tied together shoelaces - did not shock me.

I might have only been six. An orphan with no friends - no belongings. Yet I remember another life. I have since birth, and yes that is as horrifying as anyone can imagine. The less said about feedings and such the better, I think. These memories of a previous me have ensured I am completely alien to the other children at the orphanage. I just couldn't, wouldn't, limit myself to hide my intelligence. To the other children I might as well have been an alien, I certainly wasn't like them, so they detested me.

As such when magic suddenly made itself known, for what else could it be? I immediately believed it. I had seen it myself, the shoelaces tying themselves into knots on their own, I felt drained as if something of me was used. I had been reincarnated. Of course it would end up being into some other world. People didn't just reincarnate to go and become a great librarian, or to redo high school - less embarrassingly this time, perhaps - It was for some purpose. I detested the idea of fate or a higher being. Of someone or something pulling my strings. Yet, what explanation is there for suddenly being born again, and in a world different from my own.

Although why on earth I would be chosen is something no amount of pondering could solve.

It was also the only explanation for why my tiny brain, upon birth, was able to hold my memories and thought processes. Magic. No normal brain at that age would have been able to keep even a tenth of me - fully aware and thinking at such a young age. A baby brain should not at any point have been able to handle it.

Of course there were plenty of so-called fictional worlds with magic. I couldn't automatically assume accidental magic ala Harry Potter. So I tested my hypothesis. I lived at an orphanage in London after all. At six I was already impressing and forcing myself into higher classes, preparing for high school within the next year if my trajectory followed projections. Although not allowed freedom of movement, it wasn't hard to gently convince one of the caretakers who usually picked me up after classes to swing by Charing Cross. All it took was one look at the Leaky Cauldron, and I knew.

I did not go inside. I returned to the orphanage and concentrated on my school work. As an adult in a child's body it was laughably easy. Yet now that I knew what world I was in. It would do well to continue my path. The label of prodigy or genius was one I sought to make something of myself in this poverty-stricken new life. While thinking I was normal, lacking a different description, I had sought academic excellence as my path. It was a tightrope to walk now, I still desired to achieve that excellence. A title of prodigy would explain any leaps in magic I might make due to a superior ability to focus and utilize my mind and effort over eleven year old children.

At least I hoped it would work that way, otherwise that would make me really pathetic.

Now that I knew the wizarding world waited, I did not want to be burdened with guardians. Not that they were clamoring to claim me, my attitude scared away all comers. As a poor orphan boy in London, set to graduate high school within the next few years, before hitting puberty, I was liable to be picked up by either a wealthy couple looking for good PR, or the kind of middle class couples looking for a further upward trajectory a genius child could bring them.

I would be a prop. A useful thing. No thank you, I'd rather be at the orphanage.

I would have to dumb it down, stagger my progress, drag it out. High school in two, perhaps, then graduate in three. Just in time for age eleven. Still prodigious, but not enough to have people knocking the door down for me, from across the globe, I hoped. Worst case, I could scare them away with a biting personality. I wasn't exactly a people person so far in this new life. The children hated me, the workers of the orphanage were mostly just collecting a paycheck. They wouldn't blink if I didn't come back tomorrow. File a report, sure. But no tears would fall. No one would miss me.

It was… Extremely lonely…

I longed to explore Diagon Alley, now that I knew it existed, really existed, I have magic! I can't reiterate enough how wild that is. Yet I was not stupid. A muggleborn child on its own walking down those streets, not even wand age yet. What purpose did I have in doing something that risky? Best case scenario, someone from the ministry takes me back to the orphanage after reports of an unaccompanied minor, with or without messing with my memories. Worst case scenario, someone grabs me for ingredients/ a meal/ revenge on muggleborns for stealing magic. Or something of the sort.

This was not a safe world by any stretch. Magic itself had many pitfalls. As much as I hungered to devour actual magic books. To study and learn magic! I knew it was best to wait until I had a wand, and was officially a student enrolled in Hogwarts. I did not have plot armor. A child on its own was already a target for unsavory normal people. I didn't need to compound it by poking my nose in where it will not be welcomed yet, if ever, by a dangerous part of society. With a wand I would at least be able to fight back.

To say that I sat idle because of this would be a lie. I still had school to shine in, a small workout routine to craft, now that I had reason to work on stamina for the future. I could not tell for sure whether such a thing did improve ones magic stamina as well, but at the very least it would make me dodge and run for longer if necessary. The rest of my time, not counting chores at the orphanage was spent on three main avenues of self study, all tied together.

Meditation, for an hour when I woke, and an hour before I went to bed. Concentrating on my breathing, clearing my mind. This to help identify the feeling of my magic, to start the path on Occlumency and to sharpen my focus and my memory.

Occlumency itself was the second. Hours a day spent, perhaps fruitlessly; I wouldn't know for years, building a setting in my mind. Focusing intent heavily on it, hoping my magic would naturally follow along. A vast forest of the mind, imagining it at all times of the day, sorting my memories into it, wrapping defenses around them, obscuration tactics woven into the fabric of my imaginary mindscape. I could feel my memory improve, my focus stronger than ever. Yet I had no idea if this was simply the progress of focusing my mind more often, or if I was actually successfully creating a mindscape. I was counting on fanon a lot when it came to this, I had no idea if it would work or not.

Thirdly and tied into the effort to find my magic, and using intent and concentration to attempt to build a mindscape through Occlumency. I spent the rest of my time attempting only two spells, trying to will into reality those two spells, to control my accidental magic, to learn and be able to use them wandlessly. The first - the most obvious one - Accio. The summoning charm. An ambitious project as it was not even a first year spell. It was a fourth year one. Even if I did not succeed before Hogwarts, this, I would keep working on. The use of a wand being so intrinsical to magic, losing it was too easy of a way to take it away from me. A wandless Accio could quickly fix that.

Secondly I focused on Revelio. A spell to unmask hidden things. Reveal hidden passages, messages, and unmake spells hiding a person. It had several variations as well which could also reveal information on objects, potions and spells. If I could learn Revelio wandlessly, I would not only be able to explore Hogwarts on the sly wherever I go, but reveal hidden or transformed people as well. Considering the problems plaguing those halls, I found it a priority to be able to unnoticeably perform this charm.

I had my plan. The next few years mapped out. The plan was focused on the most important thing to follow in this new world. Study magic, learn, live, eat, magic. The Harry Potter stuff takes care of itself. Just escape abroad for the seventh year and return for the eight. Problems solved.

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Severus Snape detested these outings. It's why he ensured he was never available to take them on in the summer. Usually he got away with it, Albus knowing better than to inflict him on unsuspecting muggleborns, then Minerva had to get sick this week of all times. If he didn't still respect her to the extent he did, he would have told her to stuff it, sick or not. Thankfully she had already gone through most of the incoming muggleborns, leaving him only a few.

He had already dealt with too many stuttering, incompetent weak willed children this week, it made him feel like the school year had already started and he was stuck watching the useless cretins blow up his classroom. At least he only had one left. He sneered as he approached the address for St. Mary's Hope orphanage. He didn't hold much hope for this at all. A dilapidated yellowed building, appearing more as some holding facility then one for children. As he walked through the gate, the children playing in the yard scurried away from him, Severus didn't give them another glance. Noting anyway, with disgust, that their threadbare clothes barely sufficed for the weather, even as muggy and warm as it was. Muggles! He thought with distaste, entering to find the matron of this lovely institution.

The memories brought up by this horrid building and downtrodden muggles made him even more acerbic than usual, the matron of the orphanage practically running ahead of him to show him to the muggleborns room. Disappearing after as if she had apparated, she moved so quick. Severus allowed himself a slight pleased sneer, even as he disapproved of how easily she allowed a strange man access to her ward. He took on a neutral expression before opening the door without knocking, taking in the room with a glance.

His eyebrows rose as he took in muggle photographs from their newspapers taped to the walls. Spelling competitions, chess competitions, national debates, mathematics tournaments. All had the child he had come to collect in the picture, proclaiming him the winner. He could see the trophies and plaques on a rickety shelf across from the tiny bed in the small room. So not a complete dunderhead.

He observed the child sitting on the bed, studying him at the same time. Healthy height and weight despite being an orphan. Severus' lips curled, special treatment perhaps for his achievements. The boy had dark, silky - Tch! Preferential treatment indeed - shoulder length hair, a fair face and cool gray eyes, which were even now observing him in turn. Severus sneered, the boy's looks reminded him of a young Sirius Black. Nothing good could come from this child. He decided immediately.

"Lucas Greenwood, I presume." Severus snapped out, throwing the spoiled child his letter. To think even an orphanage would bend over backwards for the rotten children as long as they had a good trick or two, it seemed everywhere was the same. Special treatment for the Potter's and Black's of the world!

"I am." The child said, frowning slightly as he read the letter. Severus waited impatiently. It would not do, he reminded himself, to give detentions yet, although he dearly wished to, as the child kept wasting his time reading slowly.

"I am expected to believe this, just on your say so?" The child said calmly, putting his letter aside and meeting Severus eyes.

Severus sneered, a simple transfiguration turning one of the child's trophies into a snake, "If that will suffice?" He drawled, turning it back. A furrow between his brows as the child simply nodded as if in confirmation, picking his letter up again and reading the list of supplies.

Severus might not have done this routine with a lot of children. But calm acceptance was not how any of them reacted. Ever.

"I don't have the money to purchase any of this." The child said quietly, meeting his eyes again. The confident and calm gaze not belonging to any orphan Severus had ever seen.

It did very much remind him of Sirius Black, however. Another mark against this irritant of a child.

"The tuition is paid for, and there is a modest amount of money put aside for your kind, to get supplies, Mr Greenwood." Severus explained with distaste.

The boy tilts his head, his lips twisting in amusement. "My kind? Due to being an orphan? Or am I not magic, like you?"

Severus bit back a retort that would have been beneath his position. Merlin, he was sick of brats, especially ones bringing back memories best left buried, "Orphan, but rest assured, you're nothing like me, Mr Greenwood."

"Fair enough, I thank you for taking the time to come and explain this, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, Professor?"

The child kept staring at him intently with those familiar gray eyes, usually children were not so calm under his scrutiny and dislike. There was something odd about this one. Unable to help himself he utilized Legilimency to skim the boys' surface thoughts.

"Severus Snape, I am the Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts." He said on autopilot as he encountered Occlumency shields, half built, shoddy and rudimentary, but there. In a muggleborn.

"Who trained you?" Severus hissed out lowly, "No muggleborn this young has mental shields." His fingers tighten on his wand.

The boy eyed him consideringly, "Are you familiar with Sherlock Holmes, Professor Snape?"

"Of course I am! Answer the question, child!" Severus bit out. This impudent boy, answering his question with a question. Ten points from Gryffindor, he thought viciously, instantly feeling better. He'd have the boy scrubbing cauldrons the day after the sorting, disrespectful brat!

"I simply believed an organized mind was essential for my studies, and attempted to construct a mind palace. I believe these might be the mental shields you're talking about?" The boy explained calmly, shrugging after, "I have not been trained in magic."

Severus eye's narrowed as he stared the boy down. His mind was thinking rapidly. He did indeed, now that the boy mentioned it, remember such a mention of a mind palace. He hadn't read muggle fiction for a very long time. Yet to succeed in creating Occlumency shields, even if only half built and shoddy... "Lying will not serve you well at Hogwarts." He says silkily, watching the boy.

The boy's eyes narrow in anger? Frustration? Severus watched as he calmed himself almost immediately, a sign of someone with heavy mental focus. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought furiously. This was unprecedented, perhaps there was something to the intelligence purported by the newspaper clippings. Then again, performing Occlumency without the aid of a teacher or a book did have its pitfalls… Does he care enough to warn the boy? One look at that face, so like his detested memories and Severus is decided. It's not his problem. The issues the boy might face is entirely of his own making, and as he's likely not becoming one of his snakes. It's entirely not his problem to deal with.

"I do not need to lie." The boy finally responded, coldly and with his chin tilted up.

"Perhaps." Severus answered clippedly. "I don't care, either way. I will be taking you for your shopping. Stand and hold out your arm." Whatever mystery lay here, he had all year at Hogwarts to figure it out. He would get hives if he continued this interaction. The boy's story was mildly plausible, if unlikely. There were some cases of highly intelligent purebloods developing Occlumency shields without training or books, never before a muggleborn that he knew of. Perhaps Albus would know. Then again if he told the Headmaster, he'd probably force Severus to tutor the boy, so no, there was no need for asking Albus.

He had already spent his limited patience on this boy, and he still had the damned shopping to go through. The most premier potions master in the British Isles, and he is reduced to chauffeuring insolent brats around. If the headmaster wasn't the wizard he was, Severus would curse him to within an inch of his life for this indignity.

"Now!" He snapped angrily, as the child loitered, appearing unwilling to hold out his arm. Either way, mystery or not, it was a small matter, not worthy of his energy, better to finish the day and return to his potions. At the end of the day it was still just a muggleborn orphan. Destined for mediocrity. Like the rest of the dunderheads.

Ever since Lily, not a single one of the damn cretins had the proper appreciation for the magic they so wastefully squandered.

Damn this child, his mind had fallen back into the past, a place he avoided whenever possible.

As the child held his arm out, Severus grabbed it and immediately apparated them both to Diagon Alley. He was not gentle about it.

He did not bother to warn the child.

Its intelligence had somewhat mollified him away from its likeness to Sirius Black who had been an absolute sickness to the species.

Yet Severus Snape sneered with a mild sense of victory as he walked away from the apparation point, the child vomiting loudly onto the cobblestones.

You had to take pleasure from the little things in life.

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When Severus Snape is the one to appear for my introduction I am admittedly disappointed. What was my luck exactly? I'd have preferred Hagrid.

The sneer of contempt on his face as he looks at my room and my small amount of possessions and trophies - the way his cold eyes assess me with immediate dislike. So much for a magical introduction. I think distastefully. The Potions professor is definitely one of my most disliked characters, bravery and sacrifice notwithstanding, he was an absolute asshole to the ninth degree. It seems the feeling was going to be mutual.

At least I have confirmation I have indeed begun crafting Occlumency shields. I have not yet been able to enter my mind space, so I wasn't sure if I was doing anything, or if it was all wishful thinking. I am not too worried about Snape's sudden suspicions, I am a muggleborn with no ties to the magical world. He could look wherever he wanted, he wouldn't find anything. I am somewhat bemused by his complete disregard for actually giving me any proper information. The man hasn't even explained what a muggleborn was. Actually he hasn't really explained anything.

I especially do not appreciate the sudden side-along Apparation. The feeling was just as I remember it being described - reading about in my past life. Like being sucked through a straw, at high speed, the landing is completely disorientating.

I promptly vomit. My head is spinning, as if in a wash cycle - as I fall to my knees. Bile rising in me as I almost get a face full of my own spew, making me vomit yet again.

Not the most pleasant introduction to Diagon Alley, all in all.

Fucking Severus Snape. Was literally every other faculty member incapacitated?

I take a few minutes to regain control of myself, turning away from my mess, taking deep breaths, my view is filled with my first sight of Diagon Alley. The movie and books don't do it justice. The cobblestone street is filled with colorful vendors selling anything beneath the sun, unlike muggle carts, these vendors are magical. And it shows, one cart is entirely made of water, somehow kept in solid state, drawing the eyes to its wares, floating happily inside. Another seems to be offering customers a game of chance, some sort of small furry creature scurrying in and out of obstacles in a rotating maze kind of vendor cart, customers placing down money, apparently on where the creature will be caught, of if it will make it through, the maze constantly reinventing itself as it goes along. It's absolutely amazing and mind boggling and I have trouble keeping my eyes off it long enough to see the rest of the alley.

The stores and buildings are so obviously magical, not two of them alike. Many do not appear to be made of regular building materials, and are instead made of what seems to be whatever picked the owner's fancy. I can see a store that actually appears to be made of clouds, somehow made solid enough, while still looking fluffy and like they might float away on a breeze. Madame Desantier's beauty products it proclaims in floating letters above the entrance.

Above me in the alley, several bridges of white almost iridescent marble, sculpted with magical beasts and flora - floats in the air over the street, connecting second and third storey buildings to each other. The buildings rooftops all appear to have gardens on-top, a light refreshing smell diffusing across the alley, no doubt flower gardens then, a smart decorative and functional addition to the buildings. It made me question if I was really in the right wizarding world, it just seems so much more magical.

Enchanted lights, or possibly fairies - it's too hard to tell - are fluttering around in the air, now and then shining upon a particular storefront's sign with a flashing display of colors. Before flying off, zig zagging around shoppers - just to explode in a spray of rainbows above the bridges, and then they'd return again to advertising the signs of the various businesses. I am sure I look like the outsider I am as I simply stand there and take it in, eyes wide with just the joy of seeing so much magic! I wanted to know how it worked!

Of course I haven't exactly arrived with the right person for such wonder…

"Stop gawking, you daft child, here is some money for your supplies, do not waste it!" Severus Snape returns and shoves a pouch at me, eyes full of distaste for the whole process or just me, I wasn't sure.

This man has absolutely no joy in his heart. How can he just ignore the wonders around us?

"Will it be enough?" I jiggle the pouch doubtfully, it's feeling very low.

Snape sneers at me, dark beady eyes meeting mine. "I only gave you enough for your wand and robes. I will gather the rest of your supplies while performing my own errands."

I could definitely hear the unspoken dunderhead and have to fight back a roll of the eyes. I hardly need to antagonize him if he was going to walk away and leave me be. "Where and when should I meet you again, sir?" I ask politely instead.

Snape simply turns around with a dramatic swish of his robes, "I will find you." He spits out, disappearing into the crowds.

I stand there for a minute, half of mind to go into muggle London and make the man eat his words. How hard is it to say one hour at the Leaky Cauldron or something. The man just has to be contrary and hard to deal with, no matter what. Unfortunately the bastard probably tagged me with a tracking charm. I sigh, shaking my head, it's not worth it to purposely mess with him. My day is already going much worse than I had hoped for my introduction. Was it too much to ask for McGonagall or Flitwick or even Sprout?

I look up at the absolute magic scenery around me, shimmering trees of no kind I've ever heard of reaching up all the way to the bridges above every dozen or so meters, their colors changing intermittently. I don't know what change has brought this, or if the world is simply more alive then what could fit in a book series. I like it even so. I look around as I slowly meander, keeping an eye out for Madam Malkin's but not rushing. Snape hasn't given me a time to meet up, so although I better be ready when he comes to find me, I only have two things to shop for, so I hardly need to rush.

I walk by so many stores I want to explore, if only I had the time, or the money for it! A store just for magical clocks and watches! The display window feature out of this world pieces, including a watch that promises it can translate up to 40 languages if attached to your wrist. Another measures the speed of your thoughts, which I have no idea what that even means or why? Yet, how cool is that? Not to mention the fact that the actual shop is shaped like a grandfather's clock! The clock at the top is visible across Diagon Alley.

The toy store is three storeys and absolutely bonkers, each layer looks like it's going to slip off the previous one, toy animals periodically poke their heads out of random parts of the building and roar. There is an actual slide from the third floor down to the first. Even without the mind of a child I am sorely tempted to go inside. Magic in all its iterations is just so interesting and above all fun!

There's an actual invisible store. I stand by the sign for a moment, just reading it. Taking it all in.

Shafir's invisible emporium

Only visible between the hours of 3pm and 7pm Monday to Friday. 1pm to 5pm Saturday to Sunday.

Do not attempt to enter during off hours.

It doesn't even say what they sell, but who cares. Just think of how amazing it is to have a store which disappears and reappears. A timed invisibility spell or ritual that affects an entire building? Is this what ancient runes and arithmancy can do? I can't wait! I'm kind of disappointed it's currently invisible. With a longing glance I move on.

Too soon I arrive at Madam Malkin's. Sending glances down the street at the far stretches of the road and the tantalizing sights I'm missing out on. I'd best not try Snape's patience however. I hardly need to ensure I get the Harry Potter treatment in class after all, that would be… Irritating.

"Hello dearie, Hogwarts?" A plump dark haired witch in magenta robes attacks me the second I step over the threshold. Not waiting for an answer before grabbing my arm and somehow having me up on a podium so fast I don't really realize how it happens. I guess it's obvious what with me being eleven and all. Yet I'm used to the muggle world where they have particular words for adults that just manhandle kids without a by your leave.

I look around me bewildered. Madame Malkin herself apparently helping another child next to me. She gives me an amused little smile, my confusion apparently endearing. "Sophie can be a little bit enthusiastic." She says and chuckles lightly, as Sophie smiles sheepishly at my side.

"Standard Hogwarts kit?" Sophie asks me with pink cheeks. I don't even answer and Sophie plows on, they really do take eleven year olds for granted as going to Hogwarts. I wonder what they'd say if I pipe up and say I'm a squib for a lark. Best not, I don't need to start trouble.

Madame Malkin is still chuckling at Sophie from behind the likely prospective Hogwarts student she is working on. The one glancing not so subtly at me.

"Hello, my name's Lucas Greenwood." I introduce myself politely.

The girl blushes at being caught looking, shrinking a bit, seemingly shy. I keep an open expression and wait. She's a cute kid, if a bit on the short side. Asian heritage, short bob of black hair and intelligent amber eyes.

"I'm…Su Li." She says softly when she realizes I'm still waiting patiently on her introduction.

"Nice to meet you, Hogwarts too?" I ask, purposefully going a bit extra cheerful. My sister had been the same once, showing how happy you were to talk to them usually helped. Or putting them in a headlock. But that would hardly work here.

Besides if she was anything like my sister she'd retaliate with a groin shot, and I'd prefer to avoid that.

"Yes… Umm.. Nice to meet you." She ducks her head shyly as she answers.

"What house do you think you'll go to?" I ask politely, as Sophie the enthusiastic sales witch starts measuring me, tapping her wand here and there, a measuring tape flying around me.

"Ravenclaw!" She enthuses, much more open, her eyes shining with excitement. Before she blushes and ducks her head again, looking at me through her eyelashes.

"That's great!" I give her a thumbs up, catching her small smile. "I think I'll be a Ravenclaw too to be honest, maybe we can study together sometime?"

Madame Malkin takes this opportunity to declare my new buddy done, and she hops off the podium, becoming even shorter to me as I have to look further down to catch her eyes.

She squirms slightly as she looks up at me, "Okay?" She squeaks adorably.

"Making a friend, Su?" A honeyed voice calls out. I turn as much as I can, Sophie giving me a tiny swat and a muttered "Stand still."

"Mooom!" Su Li doesn't quite whine, but her voice does reach a certain squeaky level that's just cute. I can't help but smile. I hope these kids won't end up disliking me as much as the orphans have. Maybe magic would be the equalizer to enable me to get along with people mentally younger than me.

As I spot Su's mom I almost drop my jaw. Long silky black hair, honey coloured eyes, a beautiful exotic face with just a bit of a hint of makeup in smoky accents around the eyes, I can't help but trail my eyes over her lithe, sculpted body, she's wearing a tight fitting dress and black heels instead of regular robes. I one hundred percent wish I had my adult body right now. I can honestly say I've never seen a woman that's so much… That!

I blush as she gives me a knowing look, having caught me staring. She must get it alot, but it's embarrassing to be caught out checking her out at my age.

"You'll meet your new friend at Hogwarts, spitfire, we have a reservation." She says soothingly to the embarrassed Su.

Su gives me a shy wave, ears burning red, no doubt from having her nickname just tossed out there. I want to know what exactly could have made this shy cute little girl earn the nickname spitfire.

Her mother looks just as good leaving as she did entering. At least I wasn't in puberty yet, that could have made this even more embarrassing.

I soon finish as well and I'm given my set of the Hogwarts starter kit, shrunken down for my convenience. So I saunter out of the store in search of Ollivanders.

The premier wand supplier of Britain has probably the most non magical building in Diagon Alley. Looking faded and unimportant mashed in between two larger magically extravagant buildings. The dusty display window only holds a faded purple pillow with one wand laying on it. Yet I'm still almost breathless as I approach. This is the moment.

I open the door, anticipation filling me as the jingly bell atop the door announces my arrival. The shop is barely lit, dark shadows dancing across the stacks of wand boxes. I jump slightly as suddenly Ollivander appears from one of the shadowed corners. He does this on purpose, what a drama queen! I think in delight. I almost expect musical accompaniment.

"Rarely do I see such delight at my appearance." The absolute troll deadpans at me.

"They just don't appreciate a good jump scare." I say politely. I'm almost vibrating with impatience and excitement however.

"An excitable customer, eh? I know just what to try then." Ollivander says, snapping his fingers theatrically, floating wax candles brightening and shining light on the room, measuring tape flying out from behind the counter to begin measuring me.

"Is that wandless magic or do you have the candles and measuring tape set to do certain actions when you give audio cues like snapping your fingers?" I ask curiously, the measuring tape going uncomfortably close up the lining of my leg. I slap at it and it flies up and taps me on the nose reprovingly. I stick out my tongue and the cheeky thing promptly measures it.

Ollivander just chuckles quietly, hands hovering over several wand boxes. The measuring tape flies back to him and circles him a few times. I wonder if it's actually giving him information somehow or if it's all theatrics. I don't ask, he's as unlikely to answer as my last question. I'll learn eventually. I have a whole life to study magic.

"Dogwood, 10 inches, unicorn hair, a wand for the creative and quirky." Ollivander says, eyes shining as he watches me grab the wand, I stare at it in disappointment, no reaction.

"Hmm, I would have thought dogwood was a match, nevermind, we'll find the proper match, never worry!" And so begins a half hour wand matching marathon.

Wand after wand being handed over, most ripped out of my hand before I can even begin to try and get a feel of it. To my annoyance Ollivander deftly dodges any questions I ask about the different properties of wand cores and its effect on a magic wand and a wizard. He's slightly more accommodating on wand woods, slightly.

Finally it seems I'm drawing closer to a match, or at least so Ollivander says, pretty sure on my core and attributes of my wand, still searching for a proper match with the wood.

"Ebony, 11 and a half inches, springy, dragon heartstring, give it a try." Ollivander hands me a wand and then immediately takes it away as soon as my fingertips touch it, "No, definitely not right, tricky. Hmm."

The measuring tape taps a wand box high above us, and Ollivander looks at it with thought before waving a hand, having it float down to me, the wandbox opening and the wand presented to me.

"Ah, maybe, I think it might… Here, 10 and a half inches, rigid, core of dragon heartstring from an Ukrainian ironbelly. Walnut wood." Ollivander steps back with an expecting look on his face as I reach out and grab the wand.

I feel a tingle racing through my spine, shooting through my arm, my entire body feeling energized as a multitude of colors explode out of the wand, into the air. Ollivander claps delightedly. The lights above us dance along with the claps, briefly drawing my mind to wonder if they are indeed controlled by audio cues.

I pay for my wand, mournfully looking at wand holsters but deciding I definitely can not afford them with my Hogwarts orphan funds. Perhaps with the small amount of money I've made in the muggle world when I come back.

Ollivander snaps his fingers and the store darkens yet again as I'm about to leave, Ollivander starting to slide back into the darkness. the man not even moving his feet.

"How do you do that?" I ask yet again, making a try at puppy dog eyes, although I think I lack the innocence needed to pull it off.

Ollivander winks at me, "A magician never reveals his tricks." Then he's swallowed up into the darkness of his store.

I leave Ollivanders, new wand in hand, having learned a valuable life lesson. I can not pull off puppy dog eyes.

Sadly I find Snape waiting for me. I don't even get to greet him before he turns around, dramatically flaring his cloak again, and stalking off towards the Apparation point, obviously intending me to follow. Wizards are drama queens. I muse to myself, trying to keep up with his long strides with my smaller legs. No sooner do we arrive then he grabs me and my world turns topsy turvy again, depositing me on my ass, back in my room at the orphanage.

On the plus side I do not vomit this time.

"Here is the rest of your supplies." Snape waves his wand, and a beaten up looking plain trunk shimmers into sight. "Do not use magic in the muggle world, do not tell anyone about the magical world." Snape sneers as he deposits the trunk onto the floor next to me with a loud thud. At least it sounded relatively full. "Here is your ticket to the Hogwarts Express and the information on how to get there." He tosses the ticket on my bed, I have still not regained my equilibrium when he gives me one last impressive sneer, and then he Apparates out of my room without a word of goodbye.

I can't help but feel he's not really doing his job in protecting the statue of secrecy, literally teleporting me in and out, the staff and other kids never seeing him leave, or our return.

I eye the heavy duty trunk, no wheels, no handle, how exactly is my tiny ass going to move this anywhere? I have plans and everything and this is really inconvenient. A quick push on it proves that I did not have a magically lightweight trunk, just a cheap old heavy one with all my supplies in it.

I really wish I could have gotten Hagrid.

He could have carried my trunk for me.

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My plans for the rest of the summer get a one day delay as I have to sneak out to the hardware store the next day and use some of my scholarship money and competition winnings to buy a handle, some wheels and the tools to put them on my trunk. It was such a waste to spend my money on something I could probably make float by magic within the week. But needs must.

Once my trunk is mobile, I lie to the matron about the school offering board early to first year students, and that the man from the other day will be here to pick me up the next morning. She promptly wishes me the best and scampers. Leaving me to go on the bus and head for Charing Cross the next morning without the matron showing her face.

I was fairly sure this carelessness was not how orphanages operated. Maybe Snape confounded her or something. Or possibly he was just that scary.

A hop and a skip later and I am at the Leaky Cauldron. I roll my trunk up to the counter. Having to wait a few moments for Tom the barkeep to notice me. He fascinates me. In a world of magic, he looks like a knobbly potato with no dental plan. Couldn't magic fix all that?

"What can I do for yeh, lad?" He asks kindly.

I put the last of my magical money on the counter, "Can I rent a room for a day with this, I'll need a room until September 1st too, but I have to go exchange my parents money at Gringotts first, I'm muggleborn, you see." I explain, keeping my expression open and honest. No lies here, yes siree.

"It sure is enough, lad." Tom says after a pause. "Yer parents' letting you stay 'ere rest of summer?" He continues disapprovingly.

I nod, trying to make my smile more genuine. "Yes, sir, this magic thing is new to me, see. So my parents figured it would do me good to experience it a bit before I go to school." The wizarding world doesn't have child safety laws. Please buy it you old barkeep! I think, mentally crossing my fingers.

Tom scops up the money on offer, giving me a sad smile with too few teeth, no doubt thinking my parents aren't comfortable with magic. If sympathy gets me a month in Diagon Alley, then I'll be the most sympathetic motherfucker in town.

"Hmm, 'rite, I reckon room twelve is free for a bit." He hands me a large metal key with ten printed on it.

I look up at him, brows furrowed, silently I turn the key around so the number ten is prominently displayed. Wizards can count, right?

"Ah, of course." Tom laughs, a scraggly scratchy kind of laugh. "Yeh, get used to it with magic, lad. Key ten only works for room number twelve fer some reason." He pauses for a moment, " 'Xcept on Wednesdays. Then you gotta use key six for yer room so don't forget to come get it on those days lad."

I study the key, eyes intent, turning it over in my hands. Did these keys hold inherent magic, or was it the building that over the decades grew quirky. If the keys were melted down or remade would they still behave the same way, or was it just this set that did so and Tom hadn't bothered to change them. Did magical buildings gain sentience? And is that why Hogwarts staircases and other quirks were so abundant?

"A claw if I ever saw one." Tom chuckles. "Go on then lad, I reckon yeh got more interesting things to study then me keys." He shooes me off as I give him a distracted wave. Still pondering if magic was alive and could affect change just by being. And if so, did magic have a sense of humor? Or was it just enchantments and spells growing old and starting to act out?

As I reach the door to my room, and deposit my trunk inside, after carefully using the key to open the door. I put the key away in my pocket and refocus myself. I in no way had a fortune through my winnings and scholarship money. But it should be enough to pay for room and board for the month. So I'd need to visit Gringotts. I carefully take out the money I have saved and hidden away from workers and other children, just in case. My room has definitely been searched a few times, so my precautions did end up being useful. I put the envelope of money in my other pocket, with my wand. I am unlikely to lose anything from that side, considering I barely could stop myself from holding on to my wand at all times.

The streets are quieter now, as it is later in the afternoon then it was during my Snape induced shopping trip. It makes it easier to traverse the magical district. I still have to restrain myself from checking every interesting store front I see. Even if I get any spending money left over, it surely wouldn't be enough for all the things I could see and desire so strongly.

Gringotts is just as splendid as I imagined. The large marble building practically shines as a beacon leading you to it at the end of Diagon Alley. Its tall gates open and inviting, with its lovely warning written for all to see, showcasing that goblins do have some flair. Goblin guards peering distrustfully at all comers. There are plenty of queuing people inside, luckily and perhaps not surprisingly, the counter to exchange muggle money is empty, manned by a grumpy looking goblin who sneers at me as soon as I approach.

"I'd like to exchange this for wizarding money." I say politely but to the point, handing the envelope over, having to stand on my toes to achieve this - as the counters are not made with eleven year olds in mind. Anything I remember about goblins is not particularly nice, so I doubted there was any point in me asking questions.

"Where are your parents?" The goblin asks brusquely, one finger slowly dragging the envelope his way.

"Do I need them to exchange money?" I ask, eyebrows raised questioningly.

The goblin stares down at me piercingly. "No..." It finally decides to say slowly. Before ignoring me to check the money over, running a finger over the stack, before ringing a tiny bell that's atop his counter.

Another goblin dressed less business-like then the counter goblin appears suddenly. This one looks younger too, a page goblin? Apprentice goblin? I really want to ask questions, but hold back. Books will have to do. No one's going to take me seriously trying to find out anything at my age.

"Bring this wizard child 412 galleons, 13 sickles and 8 knuts." The counter goblin orders with a sneer. The other one quickly disappears again, and to my chagrin I can't catch how, even though I was looking right at it.

"That's a lot, can I open an account?" I ask, having had no idea on the exchange rate of money between the worlds. Having seen Tom's cheap prices, my month-long stay wouldn't put as much of a dent in my funds as I had thought.

"This is not the new accounts counter." The goblin glares down at me, tapping the sign for the exchange counter.

I sigh, having expected that answer really. I silently wait for my money, the goblin glowering down at me like my existence as a child in their bank was a personal offense. It appears my readings of the Harry Potter book were not incorrect about the goblins being douches so far. I'm not sure how much I can blame them when I remember how the wizarding world treats literally everyone. It is highly inconvenient when I am the one dealing with the bullshit though.

Considering the statue in the Ministry of Magic. I probably would be grouchy too if I was one of the lesser races, according to the law of the land.

The apprentice goblin reappears. My haul of money dropped in front of me. All of it. Loose money. On the ground. I close my eyes and sigh explosively. I open them and look up at the grumpy goblin, the apprentice having already disappeared off to wherever they go. "I assumed I would get my money in a way I could carry it." I say mildly. Cursing at goblins is not a viable strategy, do not curse. I think irritably.

"You can carry it." The goblin replies with a nasty smirk.

"I mean carried in like a bag, or a pouch." I point out, still remaining polite.

"Gringotts is a bank. Not a store. If you want to purchase a bag there is a store for that, not far from Gringotts." The goblin leers down at me. Well aware I can't just pick up some 400 galleons in my hands and walk off to the store. I have tiny pipsqueak hands.

"I did not think this through." I muse out loud staring at my pile of money. Then again who would quite expect the goblins to be this kind of petty dicks?

"I suppose I couldn't, for a fee, have someone go get me a bag or hold the money for me while I do so?" I ask resignedly, not really expecting anything.

"Of course, Gringotts offer many varied services for a fee." The goblin smiles at me, eyes lit up in sheer malicious delight.

I sigh, "Let me guess. The cost for all of them right at this moment, just happens to be 412 galleons?"

"And 13 sickles and 8 knuts… Seems wizarding children can learn." The bastard goblin chuckles darkly.

"Are you alright, lad?" A voice comes from behind me.

I turn slightly sideways and eye the very fat man. Jesus, that's Horace Slughorn! I think, mind spinning. I quickly paste a smile on my face and turn to face him fully.

"Me and my goblin friend are having a disagreement on the cost of getting my money in a way to actually carry it out." I say politely, then I squirm slightly, affecting a slight hitch to my voice. "You are… Horace Slughorn aren't you? The Potions master?" I make my eyes go big and wide staring up at him.

The voluminous spider of Slytherin strokes his silver walrus mustache. "I am, although I was unaware I was famous enough for newcomers to recognize me."

One hardly needed to be a genius let alone a Slytherin to figure out I am a muggleborn, considering where I'm standing right now.

I look down, affecting a blush to the best of my ability. "I have read everything I can about potions, it's just so fascinating!" I rush out, before looking up at him shyly. "You're like the top potions master in the world aren't you?

Slughorn smirks slightly, twirling the end of his mustache. "Well, I wouldn't say top, perhaps." He preens. Visibly pleased. You'd think a Slytherin would pick out a liar better.

"Even professor Snape didn't have anything bad to say about you when he escorted me for my shopping, so that must mean you're really great." I look around guiltily before whispering. "Because he had something bad to say about everyone and everything!"

Slughorn chuckles, "Severus you say?" He seems highly amused. No doubt imagining a poor muggleborn chasing after the dungeon bat. "What is your name, lad?"

"Lucas Greenwood, sir!" I say, standing straight at attention, making the man chuckle more.

With a wave of his wand Slughorn deposits my money in a pouch that he takes out from his voluminous robes, the gold spiraling through the air in a pretty little dance. "There you go lad, keep the pouch. And don't let Severus…hrm, attitude bother you, study hard and I'm sure you can become something in potions as well." He winks at me, "I have something of an eye for talent."

"Thank you sir!" I say, holding onto the pouch tightly, "I'll work hard and you'll see my name in a potions journal one day!" Maybe I'm laying it on a bit thick… I think bemusedly.

Nevermind, I think after Slughorn then spends another fifteen minutes talking to me and humble bragging a lot! The poor goblin is looking very chagrined, perhaps even regretting messing with me and making this scenario happen. I couldn't help but take advantage, Slughorn has a lot of connections, I would probably have my name in the paper within the year if my plans progress properly. This contact would be useful going forward. What a fluke.

Finally the goblin manages to draw Slughorn's attention for what he actually came here to do and I'm let go. With a free mokeskin pouch. Lucky day for me indeed. And how rich was Slughorn that he could just randomly dump mokeskin pouches on random orphans.

I don't bother making an account for my money today, having had enough of goblins for a day. Instead I return to the Leaky Cauldron, pay Tom for the whole month. And head up to my room. I have books to devour. And then. Then I have magic to practice.

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I'm barely in my room before I take my wand out, inspecting it reverently. Walnut wood, Ollivander had explained during the thirty minutes of matching, belonged to the intelligent wizard or witch, the magical innovator, a wand that bowed its head to those of brilliance and as long as one was on the path of brilliance would never lose loyalty or strength.

My wand was dark chocolate brown with a reddish tint throughout, the wood rising into three small spiraling rings starting close to the base and continuing into the middle of the wand before turning into smoothness for the middle end and tip. I love it already. I take a deep breath. I know the wand movement, I know the spell. Here goes nothing!

"Lumos!" I cast. Feeling elation even as I only got a sputter of light from the tip of my wand for a second.

No greater thought put into it, simply the words and wand movement, and I performed a minorly successful attempt. If I am correct about willpower and intent, it should greatly enhance a spells power or effectiveness.

I concentrate, imagining switching on a light to shine bright, to banish the darkness. "Lumos!"

I grin as a bright light appears from the tip of my wand. I focus my attention on it, mentally willing it to shine brighter. Slowly the light intensity rises. It truly is all about will and the ability to mentally project the outcome, imposing my will on reality. At least for such basic spells.

I will have a distinct advantage over the other students with this. Not to mention the fact I'm an adult that can write essays in my sleep. Thank you all my college professors!

I imagine it as if I'm switching off a light switch, wanting to plunge back into darkness. "Nox." I say, not at all surprised when the spell ends perfectly. My focus and ability to press my will is enough for a first year spell.

I tilt my head in thought, wondering, with the focus and mental acuity I have to my advantage with my mental age. Could I go even further, first years, even some purebloods, somehow struggle with Lumos. Can I, not even a student yet, utilize the Maxima variation? It is worth a try. I'd like to see if it feels different.

I imagine the power of the sun, bursting forth, vanishing all darkness in one bright explosion of light. I paint the picture mentally and I will it into being, "Lumos Maxima!"

"Nox!" I sputter out seconds later. Blinking heavily, tears in my eyes. The spell had worked, the sheer brightness shining out of my wand almost blinding me. I'd have to experiment with the spell and see if I could mentally adjust it so that I would not be blinded by the light of my own spell.

I take stock, it might be a trick of the mind, the flash of light affecting me, but I do feel slightly mentally fatigued. As if I've spent a session of intense studying. I'll have to try it at a later point with another spell that did not have the side effect of blinding me.

I put my wand away with a sigh. I couldn't help but try spells first, just to see. To feel it. To feel like a wizard. Now though it was time to study first. I need to read the magical theory book all first years bought, then perhaps spend some of my leftover money on some more specific and advanced magical theory books. I need to know the basics before I go too far in spellcasting and accidentally do damage to myself or learn bad habits that would impact me later.

I open the trunk, fishing around inside until I get the correct book. And then I lay down on the ridiculously comfortable bed, (Thank you magic!) And I crack open the page. One hand resting on my walnut wand. Just not able to completely leave it be.

I could do magic.

No one was going to take that away from me.

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Authors Note:

Note that the main character is an unreliable narrator, and that his views and ideas about magic or what he thinks people are doing does not always mean it's 100 percent correct.

Occlumency in fanfiction usually is this huge amazing thing. Allows perfect recall, to have almost no sleep and function. Supernatural focus. Even better eyesight in some fics. And allows perfect emotional control.

Yeah I call BS.

Take Severus Snape for example. The man able to fool Voldemort with his Occlumency. Does he usually seem emotionally controlled to anyone? The man's a basket case, losing his cool often and sometimes explosively.

So Occlumency might actually…. Be exactly as it's introduced. A way to protect your mind from Legilimency. No extra frills. 

In this, there will be reasons why Occlumency isn't taught to students. Why it's restricted, and why it works as it will work.

Too bad someone coming in with fanon misconceptions doesn't know that, eh?

Feel free to shoot a review, ask any questions you like, I'll try and answer if it's not too spoiler-ish.

One answer I have right now. It will not follow canon particularly closely. Adults actually being slightly competent makes canon an Impossibility.

This world is AU after all.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus

Enjoy, review, ask questions.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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By morning I wake refreshed, my before bed mediation and routine of sorting my memories having led me into a restful sleep. The super comfortable bed helps too, I cant even compare the scratchy lumpy orphanage bed to this majestic royal mattress.

I get out of bed, performing my morning rituals, before taking another hour to meditate. Focusing on my own body and mind. Having now had the feeling of a wand in my hand, the feeling of magic coursing through me to complete a connection for a spell. I feel that I am closer to managing the two wandless spells I have been trying so hard to make work. That last bit of missing information slotting in place.

How to channel my magic properly.

I take a deep breath, finishing my meditation. Opening my eyes. Concentrating on summoning my wand from the top of my pillow. Mentally willing and picturing it flying into my hand. I try to replicate the feeling of magic flowing through me for spellwork. "Accio!" I say, eyes tunneled in on my wand. My eyes narrow as I feel a slight pull. The wand twitches slightly, rolling my way by maybe an inch. I try to push it further, but I lose it. Letting out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding.

I unfold my legs and stand up, walking over to my bed and picking up my wand. That has been much more than I have managed before. As pathetic as that was. I do not bother trying Revelio yet, I have a feeling it might be better to focus on one spell until I can control it. Once I am used to it, I can manage my second. Unfortunate that it's unlikely I'll be able to use both by September 1st, but I have hope and belief in myself managing Accio by then. I have a month. If I can make it twitch an inch today, I'll have it flying to my hand by the end of the month.

Believe it!

I grab my money pouch and head downstairs, my rent also pays for three square meals a day, so I won't need to spend extra on meals. Today perhaps, I'll see what I can find that's worth spending my limited funds on for knowledge.

As I step into the Leaky Cauldron's dining area, I notice how full it is, almost every seat is taken, a varied eclectic amount of people enjoying Tom's breakfast fare while reading the Daily Prophet or chatting away with their companions.

Several magical chess sets are out, regulars who meet at the Leaky Cauldron on a daily basis playing each other and enjoying breakfast together, this all according to Tom - when I had asked.

I hesitate by the booths, it seems I might have to wait for breakfast or find it elsewhere, the few empty seats I had thought I had spotted were not in fact fully empty. The booth was half full, I just hadn't seen them from a distance as they were not tall enough to reach over the top of the seating. I don't want to interrupt what I incredulously think is Professor Filius Flitwick and a student. One with pink hair. That can't be right? Nymphadora Tonks is a seventh year this year, so she shouldn't be so…Tiny. And also she's a Hufflepuff. What is she doing with the head of Ravenclaw?

I am noticed in my perusal, the small professor giving me a small smile, "Looking for a seat? You can join us, we haven't ordered yet, and the more the merrier!"

His voice wasn't as squeaky as I imagined, it definitely was of a higher pitch then normal, but hardly noticeable. He looked like his film self - second actor, to clarify - and I gave him a thankful nod. Giving the pouting Nymphadora a searching look, before sliding into the booth. "Thank you for the offer, I had not expected it to be so busy."

Before Flitwick can answer, Tom bustles over, an apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry, Professor Flitwick, it's a madhouse in 'ere today, the usual?"

"Not to worry, Tom! A little wait never hurt anyone, and I'll just have a cuppa today, I shan't be around overly long I'm afraid." Flitwick answers politely.

Tom nods along, and scribbles the order down in a notebook. I stare fascinated as I can see a pot of tea and tea cups and condiments and everything, come dancing out of the kitchen, flying through the air above the heads of all the customers after he writes the order down.

I completely miss Tonks's order as I stare at the menagerie of tea and biscuits depositing themselves on the table in front of Professor Flitwick. How on earth is he late on serving anything if by writing down the order it is magically made right then and there and delivered without him. A connection between the notebook and whatever magic runs his kitchen? It's enchanted then? Or is it more complicated, does he have house elves? Or does he cook solely by magic? Could you set something so complicated? Like a magic programming language, like an AI that figures out how to cook and serve several dishes. Or am I overthinking it?

"I think this one 'ere gonna be one of yers, Professor." Tom says with a toothless grin. "Everytime the lad spots something, he goes like that, trying to figure it out, he is."

"Nerd." Tonks coughs, looking completely innocent as I come out of my speculations to throw her a dirty look, Flitwick giving her a chiding look as well. The girl is not surprisingly, completely undaunted.

"You should order, before you get lost in the mysteries of the universe again baby raven." She grins at me. I notice she has dimples in her cheeks when she smiles. It's cute.

"A traditional English please, Tom." I order, a bit disappointed to see that the actual meals take longer and aren't doing a conga line to our booth yet. As Tom jots the order down and runs off to serve someone else, I turn to my table mates. "I'm sorry, I've been impolite, my name is Lucas Greenwood." I introduce myself.

Flitwick smiles kindly at me, "A pleasure to meet you Mister Greenwood. My name is Filius Flitwick, I am, as you might have surmised, a professor at Hogwarts."

"The best one too, without a doubt." Tonks says cheerfully. "You'll be lucky to have him as your head, little ickle claw."

"You'll make me blush, Miss Tonks." Flitwick chuckles. "Perhaps you should introduce yourself, instead of finding new ways to infer youth with different iterations of Ravenclaw."

She huffs, puffing her cheeks out, it honestly looks so adorable on eleven year old Tonks. "Alright firstie, my name's Tonks just Tonks, got it?" She glares at me briefly. "Seventh year Hufflepuff." She glares at me more intently.

She does realize as a muggleborn student not yet sorted I don't have quite the same prejudice against Hufflepuffs? Well normally it would be that way anyway.

"Is it usual for people my age to be in their seventh year?" I ask, acting confused. I realize of course that for whatever reason she's used her metamorph powers to appear younger, but it's also impossible for me to know that so I can't ask about it.

Tonks briefly focuses, body growing, face maturing, hair lengthening and, wow. She can fill out a robe. I stare in amazement. Tonks slowly shrinking back down again with a smug grin.

"I love magic!" I breathe out.

Tonks blushes slightly, "That is honestly too adorable. Professor, when did firsties become so cute?"

Flitwick chuckles, "When you grow older Miss Tonks, you'll find that not much beats the innocence or fascination of a child."

I blush slightly, ducking my head. "I'm sorry, this is all new to me and I don't mean to just blurt out things."

Tonks looks at me and sighs, "Professor, I'm literally melting here, do something about the cuteness!"

"I'm not cute." I mutter, as I stick my lower lip out. Having fun acting the shy new muggleborn. I almost giggle as Tonks throws her hands out my way as if to say see! Cute!

"You have nothing to apologize for, being new to magic is an amazing experience that you should treasure." Professor Flitwick says firmly.

Our food arrives and puts a stopper in the conversation, Professor Flitwick drinking his tea as myself and Tonks ravenously attack some traditional English breakfast foods. The fare compared to the orphanage… It's like having been fed cardboard all your life and suddenly eating five star restaurant food. Magic makes everything better?

I admit my table manners might have somewhat slipped in my new discovery of how not gray and bland food was. I was not kidding about the cardboard quality of fare in the orphanage.

"You eat like you've been starved." Tonks shakes her head, "Or like a Gryffindor." She eyes me skeptically, "Will I lose a hand if I try and grab the gravy?"

I slow down, averting my eyes, "I'm sorry, I've just never had food so…" I search for words and come up short. The difference is like night and day, no not even that describes the magnitude of difference. "The orphanage doesn't have a lot of funding, so food…." I trail off again.

Professor Flitwick looks sympathetic, and not surprised. While Tonks grimaces, giving me an apologetic look, "I sure put my foot in my mouth, huh? Sorry baby claw, I didn't know."

I shrug, I realize I better move this conversation away before Tom can hear, as he is under the impression my parents know I'm staying here for the month. "Not your fault. Besides, I have magic now, so it's all better." I eye her with a critical gaze, "Why are you pretending to be my age anyway?" I change the subject.

"Had to meet with the Professor about something career related for this year." Tonks says with an easygoing smile, relief at the subject change obvious on her face. "Some people make trouble if a seventh year girl meets up with their professor outside of school." She finishes delicately.

"I will reiterate that I believe this is unnecessary and that no one will impugn my honor either way, Miss Tonks." Professor Flitwick says mildly, hands laced together.

I tilt my head questioningly, "Didn't you make that charade pointless anyway when you changed earlier to show me?"

Tonks grimaces, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't think of that, I just did it. But you're right, I suppose." She morphs back into her correct age, the robes must be more than usually magical to be able to shrink and expand to fit the different bodies of an eleven year old and seventeen year old girl. I stare at her robes in thought.

Tonks pulls a hand through her pink spiky locks, smirking down at me, "You know, usually they're a bit older before they start staring at my knockers like that!"

Professor Flitwick chokes and sputters on his tea, "Miss Tonks!" He says reprovingly. Cleaning up the mess with a swish of his wand.

"I was wondering about what difference there was in the enchantments on your robe compared to a normal one to allow for the varied body differences transforming between a prepubescent girl and a young woman!" I protest, ears red.

Tonks eyes me skeptically, then after a moment appears to believe me to be genuine and lets out a tinkling laugh. "Oh, this one's definitely a claw! I can actually believe him!"

"As the head of Ravenclaw I would absolutely welcome you, young Mister Greenwood." Professor Flitwick says with an amused tilt to his voice. "Don't let Miss Tonks settle you on that path; however, you still could do well in any house."

"Please! If he's anything but a claw I'll eat my knickers!" Tonks laughs, her pink hair briefly changing into purple before morphing back.

I wonder if that's a tell on the mental control aspect of her powers, she thought of her knickers, then her hair turned purple, is she wearing purple ones. I wish I could ask without coming off as completely creepy. I think, knowing that the excuse of; I'm just wondering how the magic works - wouldn't fly with this question.

"Miss Tonks, I'm suddenly reminded of how many detentions you serve yearly, do not make me give my first ever summer vacation detention." Professor Flitwick says firmly.

I hide an amused little smile. Apparently knockers are fine but knickers is where the professor draws the line, I think, swallowing a chuckle.

"I made the firstie smile, so pretty please no detention, mom would kill me!" Tonks says pleadingly, putting her hands together in a prayer.

If I'm not mistaken she's morphed her eyes to be bigger and shinier and her face has definitely taken on a younger innocent look. This girl was definitely a pro at getting out of trouble. And Flitwick quickly folds, warning her about her language.

I finish my breakfast soon after, the rest of the meal being simple small talk, I politely excuse myself from the table as soon as I'm done. Knowing they have something to discuss that I have interrupted. Tonks promises to see me as a baby claw in September. I give her a small wave and the professor a nod of respect, before I take my leave. Heading for the portal to Diagon Alley. For the first time I am able to tap my wand and open the brick passageway. The quintessential wizarding experience.

I wonder what the odds are of running into Severus Snape, Horace Slughorn and Filius Flitwick within a 48 hour period. Even in the small magical community that can't have been high odds.

Again as I walk down the street I am drawn to the watch store and toy store, but regretfully pass them by in the end. I will not be getting any more scholarships or money from academic competitions in the muggle world. So my funds are limited, and better spent on necessities rather than wants. Even when it comes to books I'll be buying them rather sparsely, I have Hogwarts library to look forward to after all. I just need some magical theory books to study, to evaluate if I'm going about things properly.

Flourish and Blotts is as busy as expected this rush up until September, I can barely move through the throngs of families, easily spotting those few uncomfortable muggle raised and their families gawking at everything. I certainly hope that is not how I had looked like on my first visit to the Alley just two days ago. It really does give off somewhat of a hillbilly visit to the city for the first time vibe.

Luckily for my own comfort about personal space, the magical theory section is by far the most sparsely populated section in Flourish and Blotts. Unluckily it does not offer a great selection. Mostly dealing with each year of Hogwarts and the theory compatible with a students year level. It seems magical theory is not a popular subject, could explain why so many wizards and witches were so… dull. I mean, if you like clothes, then sure make a career of magically altering clothes, I guess. But what about people like Stan Shunpike, conductor of a bus, that's what magic can do for him? Even with the absolute basics of a seven year education any wizard should be able to build themselves a nice cottage, with a garden to see to their needs, and then live fairly comfortably. Perfect for continuous study without the hassle of a menial job. Yet people shy away from learning more magic, and instead seek out the menial jobs, for some small amount of money. When they have magic!

I shake my head still not able to understand the reasoning of the majority of the population eschewing improving their magic. With a lack for a better option and not wanting to waste the money to buy another six years worth of books, I pick up the fifth and seventh year magical theory books. They'd likely hold the most important chapters out of all seven years of theory anyway. As I make my way past the throng, all trying to squeeze into the aisles for the defense section, I pass by a bargain bin. I stop and look, and almost continue walking. It's filled to the brim with divination books. All basically being sold for knuts and still they're not selling.

I'm stopped in place by a stray thought, I know prophecies are an actual real thing. I shouldn't let prejudice from my own reading of a fraud of a teacher prevent me from investigating a whole field of magic. Just because Trelawney was a horrible teacher, did not mean the whole subject was garbage. I have some faith in the magical world, they wouldn't still be studying it if there wasn't some worth to it.

I rummage around in the bargain bin, discarding book after book after finding they're the same useless dross that focus on being a seer, which is pointless to 99.9 percent of the population. Finally at the bottom I find something that might actually be useful.

A History of Divination and its Usage by Cassiopeia Black

Unless she was one of the batshit nuts Blacks, it was unlikely the book would be useless dribble like the rest. A quick peek at the chapter titles confirm that the book seems to actually discuss solid uses for divination. I add it to my sad pile of purchases. I must resist temptation. I have a whole library to access for most of the year. It would be pointless to purchase more books. My gaze slides across another aisle, stopping on a heavy, leather bound tome.

A Comprehensive History of Magic in the British Isles and Beyond by Batilda Bagshot.

The book is expensive. A quick look confirms the book somehow holds over 20 000 pages inside. This was the real history of magic. Not just goblin rebellions. My fingers twitch. I really shouldn't. They might have a copy at Hogwarts. I absolutely should not….

As they ring up my purchases I wince as my Divination and Magical Theory books go for literal knuts in the first case and 3 galleons each for the second. While my guilty pleasure purchase rings up for 40 galleons. To be fair I'm surprised it isn't much, much more, so I can't really complain.

I march back to my room at the Leaky Cauldron. Avoiding any chance of any other spur of the moment purchases. It has nothing to do with the 20 000 page book I'm dying to read.

Who am I kidding? I was the kind of nerd that would play a game like World Of Warcraft and spend all my time on the history and lore, reading all supplementary books and barely bothered with the whole fighting thing. I would devour this book. Even if it would take me probably months or all year to finish due to all the other studying I still have to do, and will need to do once I arrive at Hogwarts.

Well. Best get started then.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

The first few chapters of the History of Magic book are absolutely fascinating. Detailing the Druidism that came to being in Britain and the ritualistic magic they practiced. How they were so entwined with nature that some Druids literally turned into trees instead of passing away normally. How some still existed today, preserved in magical nature sanctuaries, protected from muggle logging efforts.

Batilda Bagshot is a very dry and factual writer, I can understand why Hogwarts students did not particularly enjoy the subject. To someone like me who just wanted to know. Her no nonsense factual take to writing was perfect. She describes the early days of magic, touching on the facts they knew first, then what they could reasonably suggest based on conversations with ghosts from the time and other evidence dug up centuries later. The fact that historians could actually speak to someone from a time period so far back was absolutely fascinating. It's a bit sad to imagine someone fearing death to the extent they lingered on for a Millennium or two.

As Batilda does not deal in pure speculation, something she mentions several times in the first chapters alone. There is nothing on how magic came to be. Batilda only mentions it as one of the great mysteries we'll likely never know.

So life goal right there. Discover the root of magic.

Eventually I have to put the book aside, it had given me much to think about and I decide to crack open the divination text for a brief respite from my swirling thoughts.

Cassiopeia Black has a dry wit as a writer and several times sarcastically points out how the topics she is writing about would not work for those too dimwitted to understand the basics of magic. Although she does not point out what she means, I have a feeling she's talking about willpower, intent and belief.

Several times in the introduction to her text she mentions how Divination is an art that can not be performed by those with hesitation. She's definitely not like Batilda. Who lays out the facts simply as that. Cassiopeia teases the answer, and you have to understand the meaning behind her words to truly understand the subject she's speaking of. No wonder her book ended up in the bargain bin. Not because of a lack of quality. She's honestly a superb writer, and the book is fantastic on explaining Divination and how I could use it. The average wizard and witch from just what I've read in the Harry Potter books - are just way too simple to catch her real meaning.

And really. Trelawney was an absolute moron. There were dozens of ways to utilize divination that she could have taught in her class. Then again perhaps they were on NEWTs level. If OWLs only covered palm reading and crystal balls then that's what Trelawney taught. She could have still moved beyond that and gotten some real adherents to her subject. Well, she'd still managed to enthrall those silly girls hadn't she? Parvati and Lavender, that's the names. Thank the Lord, or Merlin now -I guess I have to get used to that. Anyway, thank Merlin I am unlikely to be a Gryffindor. I always hated those kind of gossipy flighty girls.

Back to the subject of Divination. I have only read a few chapters and already I have started to practice real divination. Sure, it was for everyday things, not a see the future manual. Yet, how useful could even a small divination each morning be to prepare you for the day.

Cubomancy, divination with dice. A practice that has been in place for over two thousand years, the ancient Wizards using things like knuckle bones. Until harvesting of magical creatures became safer and commercialized. Now bone dice made from an assortment of magical creatures were used in Cubomancy.

The dice have several numbers on each side, each representing letters of the alphabet, so you'd ask your question, or divination, and roll the dice. Then interpret what the numbers meant in letters, then again have to interpret what the letters would combine into depending on things like the cycle of the moon, what month you were in, and whether you were a wizard or witch. Because all those would give different meanings to the letters.

I hadn't been able to help myself, finding a small tucked away divination vendor not too far away from the magical menagerie that sold bone dice. I did not think of where most of their supply came from, I definitely avoided any trinkets made of owl bone. My own dice were made of Mooncalf bones, they were a shimmering ethereal silver color with tiny black numbers and came in a royal purple pouch I could tie to my belt.

It had sounded like a lot of work when I'd read it, but honestly figuring out what moon phase I am in, what month it was and whether or not I am a wizard is not exactly hard work. If I make it a daily routine it would hardly take more than a few minutes. It was a bit more involved then just that. Still, not a difficult endeavor.

Following Cassiopeia's instructions, I focus and throw the dice, mentally asking my question. It was not hard for me to believe in the process. This was magic, like I had always imagined it. And I focused my will on receiving an answer. My question is simple. Should I go down to the Leaky Cauldron common area tonight?

I would have to study Latin at Hogwarts as the numbers were only associated with the Latin language. Yet studying my dice, and with my limited understanding of Latin, my answer appeared to be some variation of Do not.

Of course, the best way to find out why, was to actually go down anyway.

That night a pub fight broke out and I had to be healed by Tom with a quick Episkey, having received a broken nose from a banished beer tankard to the face while trying to avoid the brawl.

Divination works. I love magic!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Studying more about divination over the rest of the week continues to show me that it was an actual useful field of magic that Hogwarts was teaching incredibly improperly.

Take Tarot card readings for example. The general popular belief was that you were reading the future when you used them for divination. That was completely incorrect.

Tarot cards were indeed capable of magic, if you got real cards, magically made and treated. But they did not predict the future. They read you! Tarot cards were used for an increased self awareness and to reflect on yourself. The readings are based on you and the forces around you as you are now. Not the future. It's a guideline to your own soul, your mind, your feelings and actions. Unfettered and absolutely truthful, no blinders. It was magic you used to get an honest opinion on how you are doing, without the personal blinders and assumptions people make about themselves in their own insecurities or hubris.

I already had the dice for cubomancy, so I forced myself to not go visit the vendor for a deck of Tarot cards. It could wait. I was already pretty self aware.

Tasseomancy was used almost exclusively in the Harry Potter books, the art of reading tea leaves. Yet Trelawney never did explain all the ways to properly utilize it. For one the absolute barebones way to attempt it was to simply drink your tea and then try and interpret the dregs. Pretty useless for a class of students with no knowledge of divination and not yet practiced in their belief. If anything they come into the class with disbelief. Further making the class pointless.

In Tasseomancy everything makes a difference. What kind of material your cup is made of, what time of the day you're drinking. Is it dawn? Noon? Evening? It all changes how you use it and read it. What kind of tea is it? How long did you spend drinking it? Are you swirling it clockwise or anticlockwise? Tasseomancy is the most complicated and difficult to get right practice of divination. And that's what Trelawney focused on.

Then once you have managed all the fiddly bits, you now have to interpret the dregs, which means that before you did all that, you'd have to learn how to interpret them. Something again that Trelawney apparently didn't teach properly.

While Tasseomancy, once mastered, was absolutely spot on in predicting your immediate future, it was one act of divination I would not practice. It was just an enormous hassle. Way too much work.

Cubomancy and Tarot cards would have to do. And I felt there was promise in scrying, using a crystal ball and pendulum divination. Yet I was mindful of not picking too many things to focus on, especially in a subject that I honestly probably would not use much. It was a temporary pleasure and diversion into a field I had a prejudice against and wanted to explore, because it was still magic. Yet further exploration was probably best for when I had a solid grounding in the wand arts. Besides, from what Cassiopeia wrote, the highest levels of scrying and pendulum divination required blood, something which wasn't quite legal in most cases, although it had never been banned in divination. Probably because literally no one uses it anymore.

Also, Cassiopeia was a Black, if they were still using those blood based divinations, of course they put pressure on to keep it legal. Until Voldemort happened and the family basically imploded, the Blacks were the kind of people that said jump, and the Ministry of Magic was a thousand feet in the air before they thought to ask, why?

I put the divination book on my nightstand. My fingers rolling my Mooncalf bone dice between them. What an interesting subject it was, divination. Too bad I'd get zero use out of the class at Hogwarts. I couldn't even ask questions of the professor in the subject due to her incompetence. I frown minutely, the same goes for another favorite of mine, History of Magic. Binns probably wouldn't even realize he was in this decade, let alone get my name right. So asking questions would hardly get a coherent educational answer.

I was used to normal education where most teachers actually wanted to teach. Hogwarts did have that fantastic library and I am an adult and capable of self study. It does burn me slightly however. To have Snape who either hates kids, teaching, or both. Binns who probably wouldn't notice if his entire class had an orgy, something to plan for seventh, make that eight year? Perhaps?

Then there's Trelawney who somehow manages to teach Divination the most asinine ineffectual way possible. And eventually Hagrid, who while nice and a font of knowledge on Magical beasts is not a competent teacher and definitely should not be responsible for student safety around beasts capable of killing students. The man's last completed grade was as a second year!

If I was actually paying tuition I'd demand my money back. I think wryly, sliding my feet off my bed and standing up, stretching slightly, hearing the pops of a body that has perhaps spent too long curled up with a book this morning.

I've been in Diagon Alley for a week so far. Having already burned through my first year textbooks. They honestly were not complicated, although the potions book really should come with a supplementary book on ingredient reactions, because the information in the text book did not clarify enough. No wonder first year students were dunderheads. I certainly never saw Snape explain it to Harry's class.

I roll the dice in my hand, pondering my question. Should I explore Knockturn Alley or not? I could already cast several spells like Flipendo, the knockback jinx and Expelliarmus, which wasn't in my first year book, but a Harry Potter nerd could hardly forget his favorite spell. It should be safe to explore in daylight, surely. I didn't believe for a second that it was a dark magic district full of evil. No government would allow that. Sure it definitely had shops dealing in shady shit, like Borgins Burke's, who sold dark magic books and artifacts illegally. Yet more than likely, the district was the kind for more esoteric and specialty shops that could not afford the rent in Diagon Alley due to having a more diverse clientele.

It was those esoteric shops I was curious about exploring. Even if I didn't buy anything, I wanted to know for future exploration. I focus my mind on the question, is it safe for me to explore Knockturn Alley today?

I roll the dice, then take a minute to read the results and translate. Bonus Fortuna. Well that's easy enough. Good fortune. It seems I am indeed exploring today. I pick my dice up and put them away in my pouch, then I slide it inside my mokeskin pouch for safe keeping together with my money. Slide my wand so that I am holding it hidden under my wrist and the length of my robe, and I walk downstairs to exit into Diagon Alley, and ahead, towards Knockturn.

No one tries to stop me or even give me a second glance as I march down into Knockturn Alley. And to be honest in the beginning stretch there isn't much of a difference. Less shouty colors perhaps. A narrower street makes it seem more cramped. Not as many tall buildings so not as many bridges or trees around to light things up. I don't bother with the shops in this first bit, the much narrower street filled with shops that don't appear that different from Diagon Alley.

The further down the alley I go, the more it leans into its reputation. A building to my right seems built entirely out of dark ominous smoke, the surface of it swirling as it's constantly moving in the wind. I peer closely at it, ignoring a hag vendor nearby selling nails and bits and bobs of bones. It's a cigar and pipe store, Bletchley's cigars and pipes to be exact. I walk on amused and pleased at the effort to create such a striking and interesting store front for such a normal kind of store.

Curious suddenly of why anyone would sell them, I walk up to the hag I had previously ignored. "What's the fingernails for?"

She gives me a yellowed grin, "Polyjuice potion, fingernails works just as well as hair, and you ain't about to lose em easy like."

"Huh, you learn something new everyday. I assume it's from random muggles?" I ask, getting an agreeing nod. I give the friendly hag a wave as I continue walking. That hadn't been too bad.

I walk by an optometrist store, or whatever a wizard equivalent would be called. Two apothecaries who amusedly are right next to each other, both with signage with disparaging language about their obviously defective competitor next door - Both stores have the same last name, Inheritance dispute? I walk by a veterinary clinic for your magical pets and beasts, slightly surprised this isn't a shop in Diagon Alley. And a candy shop shaped like a gingerbread house, seemingly taken right out of a story. All this makes it seem like Diagon Alley is for the Hogwarts bound and the upper class, while Knockturn has the nitty gritty businesses everyone uses. While still making sense of the don't send your kids down here idea; as I walk by an obvious brothel - placed next to a bar/inn on one side and a used book store of all things on the other side.

I forcibly make myself keep exploring. If I go into a used book store I will no doubt stay too long and spend money I shouldn't be spending. The alley was not lit well, it was dirtier but not by much, more of a rugged type of working class street rather than obviously criminal. So far I had not been accosted at all. Although I've spotted a hag or two. I'd wager it would be much more dangerous at night. Yet that's why I was exploring this early in the day. I wouldn't be coming down at night anytime soon, if ever.

Although just like muggle nightlife, I bet certain areas of the Alley would be an absolute experience at night.

I soon find a store that piques my interest, it's shaped like a giant old boot, because of course it is. The signage declares it McGonagall's Knicks and Knacks. Below it in bolded and underscored text is.

Not to be confused with professor Minerva McGonagall, no relation!

I wonder bemusedly if the proprietor got a visit from the old transfiguration professor about people believing she owned a knick knacks store. To be a fly on the wall for that discussion, it's an amusing thought. I enter, a bell jingling above me. The store is filled from floor to ceiling with just stuff. There's barely a pathway through, and most of it is defying gravity. Sticking charm? Or something more robust?

I walk around, perusing the stacks for anything that looks interesting, wondering if this store would be my good fortune today. Or just my entire experience in Knockturn Alley going well, without problems, could be viewed as good fortune. Divination was useful. But it wasn't terribly precise.

The proprietor is completely ignoring me, dozing away in a comfortable looking leather lazy boy chair. I almost let out a chuckle at its obvious muggle origin. I think I can still see a price tag on the side. I look around, figuring that even if I can't tell, there's all kinds of anti theft spells to explain the proprietor's lack of care. In this mess it was too easy to take something to not have it be well protected.

I spot a shelf filled with nothing but wands. I walk over with interest, having a second wand is only common sense. Unfortunately the Ministry does not allow Hogwarts students to purchase more than one wand, or I would have gone to Ollivander's to find another good match for a second wand.

From what research I've managed to do on wands, which honestly comes by asking around in the Leaky Cauldron and reading the provided free pamphlet on most common wizarding laws broken by students, given to me by a grinning Tom. Apparently the ministry gave him stacks of the things at this time of the year. I did note with exasperation that while it was illegal to purchase a second wand as a student. It was not illegal to own one. No doubt a loophole for the pureblood wanting to use grand daddy's wand as backup.

Unfortunately none of the wands in the stacks and stacks of them feels very receptive to me. There's no point in a back up wand that is not at least halfway willing to work with me. I move on from that endeavor slightly put out.

I find several things that look somewhat interesting but not for me. Including what honestly looks like a beginner's ritual kit marketed for kids. I take its placement in this little shop to mean it wasn't a very successful marketing campaign. Too many toddlers sacrificing the family house cat perhaps. Wizards! I think, shaking my head. Although I am surprised it's even here. The ministry tightly regulates rituals apparently. Considering what Voldemort came out looking like after one. I don't think I can rightly disagree with them. Banning it completely would be a mistake in my opinion - just based on the history of ritualism and its druidic roots. However, let researchers and Professors study, or whatever the department of mysteries does. Just keep it out of the hands of the morons of the wizarding world.

I spot a flash of silver, I have to bend down to look in the middle of a trash heap worth of useless items. But I see a small cage. The word Animagus is still visible even though all other lettering has faded with age. The cage is hardly big enough for even a cat. My mind starts to whirl… It is however big enough for a rat. I reach into the pile, carefully extracting the cage. Studying it closely, I'm pretty darn sure this is actual fucking goblin silver. No way does the owner know what this is.

I bring it over to the counter. The small old man that was dozing there, gingerly getting up, grumbling all the while, and putting on glasses so thick it's a wonder he doesn't tip forward.

"That is a real Animagus cage that is. 15 galleons." He says with a car salesman's smile. The wrinkles on his face make him look like a very unattractive bulldog when he smiles.

I scoff, unimpressed. "It's the size to maybe hold a grasshopper Animagus, not very useful. 3 galleons." I counter. Although in the worst case I'll pay the full amount. It's worth probably fifty times his price just for being goblin silver.

"Alright, it's a bit on the small side, innit? But it's the real deal, will keep any small Animagus locked away, no way to transform, easy to transport at that size too eh?" The old man scratches his chin, eyeing me, sizing me up. "10 galleons, and it's me final offer."

I purse my lips, pretending to think about it. I doubt I can haggle him down too much more. And I don't want him to start paying too close attention to the cage. "Alright. Ten galleons." I sigh, and make a put upon face.

I count out ten galleons from my mokeskin pouch, the proprietor eagerly grabbing the money, looking like he's just had one over me. Oh if only he knew. I slide the small cage into my pouch feeling a pang of gratitude to Slughorn. He's really made life easier for me with his gift.

I exit the store, feeling in a grand mood. Good fortune indeed. I have no intention of saving the plot or some such nonsense. But there were other reasons why having a little rat captive could be very useful.

"Wotcher, Ickle baby claw, what are you doing down here?" I hear, and I swivel my head to find Nymphadora Tonks striding up to me.

"Having a look around, Tonks? Was it? What are you doing here?" I explain and then fire back cheekily.

She comes up to me fully, rolling her eyes at my cheek. "I'm fully capable of defending myself, you couldn't scare away a house elf." Her eyes slid to the brothel nearby, "Let's go, I'll escort you out."

A group of young adult wizards come stumbling out of the brothel. It's fairly obvious they've spent the night, I've seen their kind before, young and dumb, with money.

"Merlin! Wait until I tell Ophelia you were at a brothel, Fawley!" Tonks hisses quietly to herself in malicious satisfaction. The group not noticing Tonks and myself.

"What's a brothel?" I ask with big eyes. Inwardly cackling. I can't wait to tell her head of house all about the brothel Tonks took me to in the summer. Not quite factually correct. But she did take me right by it. No matter that I was already there. Now how public should that be…

Tonks does a double take, looking away from the students as if she's forgotten about me in the 30 seconds after she decided she'd escort me. "Never mind about that. And don't you dare ask a professor!" She tells me a pink tint to her cheeks. She gives me a little gentle shove. "Move it, baby claw."

"I won't ask." I say politely with a cherubic smile.

"I know that fake innocent look, you little shit." She growls at me, she marches me up towards Diagon Alley, "What's it gonna take to keep your trap shut?"

"Lunch, somewhere other than the Leaky Cauldron." I decide to be magnanimous and give her an easy out, plus I want to try some more excellent food, without impacting my money pouch.

"Fine, you can come with me to lunch with my parents." Tonks says, and I am having second thoughts, because what?

She chuckles, "It's perfect!" She cheers, her hair sparkling suddenly, "They won't nag at me if I bring a sacrif- I mean guest!" She leers at me somewhat threateningly.

"We can have lunch another day!" I say hurriedly as we enter Diagon Alley. I don't need anymore encounters with people liable to want to know where my guardians are, or how I'm staying in Diagon Alley instead of the Orphanage.

Tonks grabs my shoulder and steers me purposefully forward. "Nah, ickle baby claw. You're stuck with me now, a deal is a deal."

"You are a cruel and evil mistress of magic." I quip, not looking forward to the twenty questions game over lunch. Hopefully the food would be good.

"Aww, you already know me so well." She coos. Turning me right, we're two alleys behind Flourish and Botts now, heading towards a restaurant that seems to be a hollowed out giant tree trunk, laying on its side. The seats appear to be flower buds and the tables are blooming flowers, petals spread, amazing colors on display. The smell is just divine and I'm not talking about the food. The whole feel of the place is natural, and the smell is like being out in flower meadow on a nice summer's day.

The sign above the restaurant proclaim it Amare Naturae, Latin, but not anything I can fully translate off the top of my head, except something about nature obviously.

Shining flower buds in the ceiling and on the walls provide light, the sound of running water adds to the ambiance, as there are little waterfalls coming out of the walls everywhere. The restaurant only has room for ten tables. Not surprisingly they are all occupied. Tonks takes the lead now, grabbing my hand to drag me towards a table in the middle of the restaurant. "Mom, Dad, I hope it's okay that I brought someone."

Ted Tonks is a fair haired man with a definite dad bod. He has an open and honest face, the kind of man you'd trust on a first meeting. Andromeda Tonks is his complete opposite in every way. A classical beauty with well managed light brown hair, soft eyes in an otherwise aristocratic face.

"Dora! I never expected that when you'd bring a boyfriend to a meal it would be one so young." Ted Tonks says teasingly. "Of course he's welcome, best to train them young, eh darling?" He ribs his daughter.

"Dad! He's not my boyfriend!" Tonks face flushes, and her hair briefly flashes red before she regains control. "Mom, make him stop!" She whines.

I interject putting on a dejected look, "You're already breaking up with me?" I say pathetically, looking up at Tonks sadly.

Tonks gapes, staring down at me as her father breaks out laughing and her mother hides a smile behind her hand. "You're so dead when we get to Hogwarts!" She promises darkly.

"Nymphadora, no death threats at the table!" Andromeda says sharply. Turning kind eyes to me, "You're of course welcome, dear. Don't let my daughter's brazen mannerisms put you off."

"Thank you, ma'am." I say with a smile, turning mischievous eyes on Tonks, who's glaring at me with a don't you dare look. I'm glad I have in universe knowledge of her first name now.

"I'm so glad Nymphadora brought me, Nymphadora owes me lunch you see, and I'm honored to join a luncheon with Nymphadora's parents." I say sweetly, taking my seat on one of the flower buds at the table.

Dead! Tonks mouths to me, eyes sparking, as she takes the seat next to her chuckling dad, right across from me.

"It's unusual for you to bring someone Dora, but I'm glad you did. Where did you find this lad, he's got your number alright." Ted says with a wide smile, teasing his daughter.

"Should have left you at the brothel." Tonks mutters, shooting me a dark look. I give her a deadpan one back. Her supposed clumsiness must be in regards to her mouth as well. She doesn't even seem to realize what she's said until her mom gasps. Tonks eyes flying wide open as she tries to think of a defense.

"Nymphadora what on earth were you doing at a brothel!" Andromeda hisses quietly. "Ted, don't laugh, this is serious!"

"Dromeda, she's an adult now, if Dora needs companion-" Ted starts, still sniggering.

Tonks interrupts him, "Merlin dad! No!" Looking disgusted. "I do not need to pay to get laid!"

"There is a child at the table!" Andromeda snaps at her daughter and Tonks blushes beet red, ducking her head and mumbling apologies, while still glaring murderously at me.

I might have miscalculated, but how could I expect some light teasing to come to this? Tonks surely would have to blame her own clumsy mouth. The server arriving stops the brewing argument and saves Tonks from turning full body red in embarrassment, for now.

I admit to having no idea what anything on the menu is, it's apparently a vegetarian restaurant. But all the names of the dishes sound fancy and don't really describe well what it is. I graciously bow to superior knowledge and let Andromeda order for me. The server leaves soon after with our orders and Andromeda immediately turns to me with a polite smile.

"Apologies for my daughter, we never did get to introduce ourselves. My name's Andromeda Tonks, and this is my husband Ted. You of course already know Nymphadora…" Andromeda fishes for my name by leaving a polite little silence after her introduction. I oblige.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Lucas Greenwood, a muggleborn orphan that Nymphadora has been kind enough to look after a bit before Hogwarts." I decide to throw Tonks a bone, in the benefit of avoiding having a witch out for my head at Hogwarts.

"Oh, Nymphadora, why didn't you say something? That's really sweet of you, dear." Andromeda says, reaching out and grabbing one of Nymphadora's hands, squeezing it.

Tonks blushes and mumbles something noncommittal, giving me a look of somewhat less absolute murder. Ted looks over us all shrewdly, no doubt understanding exactly what's going on, but ultimately shrugging, finding it funny and letting it all go on.

I nod along with the saturation of sweetness at the table right now, and add some more. "She calls me her baby claw."

Ted starts laughing again as Andromeda practically melts, holding onto her daughter's hand and giving her a sweet smile. "You'd make such a good mother." She says, freaking Tonks out by the wide eyed panicked look she's sporting. Oops, I might not actually be helping.

I almost blurt out to Tonks; can I call you mom, but realize that might actually be suicidal and so refrain. She already looks completely freaked out from her mom mentioning babies and her in the same breath.

The food arrives soon after, finally allowing Tonks some peace as we all slowly start eating, the subject moving to Hogwarts instead of more dangerous ground.

"So, you'll be joining Hogwarts soon, got any favorite subjects yet?" Ted asks me.

"Yes, two so far, but from what everyone tells me, and my own reading, the teachers will be useless in the subjects." I grouse.

Ted hums in thought, "Well I'd take a wager one of those classes is History of Magic then, Binns was always dreadfully boring, wasn't he Dromeda?"

Andromeda daintily puts down the goblet of wine she had been sipping, "I must agree he wasn't much use as a teacher, I never did understand why Dumbledore refuses to hire a proper professor for the subject."

"It's probably the Hogwarts board or the Ministry educational department keeping him, because of traditions or because they approve of how he only talks about goblin rebellions." I mutter, dejected that such a fantastic subject had fallen so low.

Andromeda raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow in surprise. "For a new entrant to the magical world you have managed to gather a lot of information in such a short time." She sounds mildly approving. She was a Slytherin wasn't she?

"Binns is great, he doesn't care if you duel in the back of the classroom or if you nap. You can't get rid of Binns." Tonks says with a cheeky grin to her parents.

Ted just chuckles again, he really is a cheerful man isn't he? Andromeda sends her daughter an exasperated look, "Dueling in class? Really?"

"It's better then listening to Binns!" Tonks shrugs. Sharing a smile with her dad.

"History should not be a subject destroyed like this! History is how you learn, what your ancestors tried and failed at, tried and succeeded at, how a society and culture learns to not repeat the same failures!" I say passionately. "Not to mention it's a History of Magic! Learning about Druidism and the Summer Solstice, Samhain and the Winter Solstice and how all these rituals and traditions and ceremonies came to be, it's something wizardkind should all share as a culture and with Binns as a teacher it's dying out!"

I blush as not only are my tablemates staring at me after that passionate declaration, so is the rest of the restaurant. I sink in my seat with a red face trying to disappear. Tonks is looking thoughtful, frowning at me, like she's never thought about History as a subject before.

"Too right lad, I haven't seen such a passionate young man in quite awhile, keep that fire, don't let old Binns extinguish it." One of the wizards at an adjacent table says to me approvingly. I nod my head at him quietly not wanting to open my mouth and let it run off again.

"Now you see why I call him baby claw." Tonks jumps in snickering, lightening the mood. Sending me a wink, her eyes still thoughtful and considering.

"You do seem well suited for Ravenclaw, dear." Andromeda acknowledges, giving me a tiny approving smile.

Ted gives me a rueful grin, "Nothing like me at that age are you lad? All I cared about was where my next sweet was and fooling around with my mates."

"Not much has changed." Andromeda says dryly, sending him a sweet look. Ted just chuckles, patting his belly.

"What's the second subject?" Tonks wants to know, pointing her fork at me, a glazed carrot pierced onto it.

I scratch my chin somewhat self conscious, I don't want to get drawn into a rant again. "Divination." I say, leaving it at that.

All three of my tablemates react exactly the same, the rise of an incredulous eyebrow as they stare at me in concert, almost enough to make me laugh. I can hear the quietly exclaimed surprise from another table, so they're still eavesdropping, nosy wizards.

"But Divination is a load of bunk!" Tonks exclaims loudly, breaking the incredulous silence.

I shake my head. "You don't really think a magical field that's existed for over two millennia and is still studied today, is completely useless. Based on a teacher that's been at Hogwarts for what? A decade?"

"I've never thought of it like that." Ted interjects thoughtfully, he grins at me sheepishly, "However Divination seemed like a load of rubbish to me in school too."

Tonks nods firmly, "See, even like a hundred years ago it was complete tosh!" Which earns her a joking "How old do you think I am?" From her dad.

I take out my pouch of Mooncalf dice from my mokeskin pouch, pouring them onto the table. "These are used for Cubomancy, a form of divination that I've learned in the space of a day, that allows me to divine my day under the pretext of one question. I did it this morning. To ask if it would be safe to enter Knockturn Alley, and my answer was that I'd have good fortune. I found an amazing find in McGonagall's knick knacks store and then was found by Tonks and brought here for a fine lunch with good company." I pick up the dice and roll them around my fingers, "Seems it worked just fine, and this is only one of the many ways any normal wizard or witch can use divination without being a seer. I was lucky to find a great book by Cassiopeia Black which explained it all, before I had a chance to have divination ruined by the Hogwarts professor."

Andromeda jolts at the mention of Cassiopeia, I remember that she was originally a Black, maybe Cassiopeia is someone she knows? I wanted to ask, but I was barely acquainted and it would be rude considering she was not in good standing with her family in canon. When Sirius broke out, no older member of the family is really mentioned much, so she was likely dead anyway.

Both Tonks and Ted seem to have come around a little at my passionate defense of Divination. Although Tonks still continues to question me.

"So why does Trelawney just keep blathering on about predictions through star charts and reading tea leaves and not useful stuff like that?" She asks skeptically.

"Tasseomancy is a difficult and time consuming art and probably won't work with Hogwarts students." I say diplomatically. Not wanting to call Trelawney a hack in front of witnesses. "As for star charts I haven't read everything in Cassiopeia's book yet, so far there's been no mention of stars for use in divination."

"Always knew she was a hack." Tonks mutters, "Hours wasted on those damn things." She viciously stabs at her food, biting into it like she could pay her professor back for useless homework assignments.

"For an incoming first year student, you certainly have prepared well. You have a keen mind." Andromeda compliments me, "You could teach my daughter a few things." She continues. I want no part of that! Please don't use my fragile self to lecture your daughter! I think, feeling annoyed. I do not need more reasons to be hexed at Hogwarts than my own teasing!

Tonks doesn't take it at all as I thought she would, just shrugging her shoulders easily, giving me a hopeful look, "I wouldn't mind learning some more about Divination, sounds like it could be dead useful if done right."

She was already on the auror path most likely, probably part of the career advice session she had with Flitwick, an old dueling master. Some divination tricks could be helpful in that path. Or that is how I'm imagining her thought process has gone right now. Just from my previous knowledge and the context.

"Don't bully the first year, Dora." Ted chides slightly, "he'll have enough on his plate as a first year muggleborn."

"I don't mind." I say quickly before Tonks can change her mind. "I'm sure there's some cool things she can teach me in exchange."

"Slytherin thinking." Andromeda says approvingly.

Briefly I hear the same wizard who had interjected before at the adjacent table swear, and mutter, "There's no way that lad is a muggleborn!"

The Tonkses send him a look as one, and he grimaces, I don't bother looking his way, I'm certain I'll face this attitude constantly. Tonks turns back my way smiling at me, her eyes have a spark of righteous anger in them if I'm not mistaken. "I'll definitely meet you at Hogwarts and we'll both learn some cool stuff, alright, Lucas?"

"Sure… Nymphadora." I say cheekily.

Her hair flares red, "Don't call me that!" She bites out, "It's Tonks!"

"When are you ever going to grow up and accept your name, Nymphadora?" Andromeda sighs. She turns to me, "Feel free to send us an owl if my daughter is causing you any trouble."

"Mom!" Tonks hisses, horrified.

I just smile, not saying yes or no. Andromeda had just basically ensured her daughter's cooperation and pleasant attitude by giving me a way and means and even an invite to tattle to her mom if she misbehaves. Slytherins never do stop being Slytherins.

"I'll break out her baby pictures too, that will keep her in line." Ted gives me a wink.

"Mom! Dad! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tonks complains gesturing wildly in the air.

I smile as they argue good naturedly with each other. This is the kind of stuff I've been missing in this life. Family, friends. People to share my thoughts with. I look down at the table conflicted. I was going to avoid the plot, Ted would die. Tonks would die. Andromeda would be tortured. It was the right thing to do… for me. I couldn't fight a war. Or face the muggleborn camps. Yet… Could I leave people like the Tonkses to suffer. I would have to… Magic was more important. My life was more important. It had to be.

The Tonkses notice my somewhat mournful silence, thankfully they don't ask or push, no doubt figuring it was my orphan status that was bringing my mood down in such a family setting. Noticing I've completely brought down the happy mood of those around me I slide off my seat and give them a slight bow. "Thank you for the meal, it was nice meeting you, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Tonks!" I say my goodbyes and flee the restaurant before I let my thoughts dwell too much on the disaster that will fall on their family.

At least my divination came true, I did find good fortune today, in more ways than one.

I return to the Leaky Cauldron to continue studying and practicing magic.

I would be something they've never seen before. I'd ensure it!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

A week after my luncheon with the Tonkses, I enter the common areas of the Leaky Cauldron and I am immediately accosted by Tom, who hands me a Daily Prophet, open to page 3.

I stare at the article in both shock and annoyance.

History of Magic is dying?

This reporter happened to be having lunch at the always delightfully charming Amare Naturae a week ago, when it just so happened that a student entering his first year in Hogwarts held a passionate speech on the importance of History of Magic as a subject for all of wizardkind.

Now I, as you no doubt are as well, dear readers, was skeptical. Having suffered through years of Professor Binns endless goblin rebellion lectures I saw no benefit to wizardkind in the subject.

This young student, not even a first year student yet. Passionately defended the cultural knowledge and traditions of wizardkind. Celebrating our druidic roots, bringing tears to the eyes of the patrons in earshot, as he declared that without a deep knowledge of our history, wizardkind is not only doomed to repeat the mistakes of our ancestors, but that we will lose those treasured ceremonies and culturally significant traditions that binds us together as one magical people.

I was moved dear reader! Never before had I thought of the ancient past to be so poignant for today, nor the future!

Some research quickly brought to the fore the fact that those traditional ceremonies every wizarding family performed as a matter of course, have practically died out. The Summer and Winter solstice, despite being celebrations of magic, family and ancestry, is now barely held to by only the most staunch traditionalists.

The night of Samhain, once shared across the magical world, has almost completely disappeared, even Hogwarts celebrating the muggle holiday Halloween instead. A day of candy and costumes, instead of the day wizardkind celebrated their history and ancestry and communicated with their loved ones beyond the veil.

Has Albus Dumbledore realized this? Is the headmaster behind this erosion of magical culture?

How has this been allowed to happen? Why is a ghost still teaching the same old material every year at Hogwarts? Why has the Department of magical education not stepped in and updated the exam and the class to educate our young in the traditions and ceremonies that made us a people, a community to begin with?

And why is it that an eleven year old muggleborn by the name of Lucas Greenwood, venerates and loves our history more than we ourselves do? That before he's even had one class, he's already looked up and celebrated the rich traditions of our people.

I give thanks to this young man for setting me on this quest of looking for answers. His passion has lit a flame in me. If a muggleborn just entering the wizarding world stands in awe of our cultural heritage, why do we not celebrate it so?

I intend to find out.

Cassian Routledge, special reporter for the Daily Prophet.

For the response from the head of the Department of magical education see page 9.

Albus Dumbledore refuses to criticize Professor Binns on page 11

For more on wizarding traditions like Samhain see page 14.

That absolute bastard took the 45 second rant I had and turned it into spellfire against Hogwarts and the Ministry both. And he also name dropped me, one and a half weeks before I go to Hogwarts.

"Thank you for showing me, Tom." I say, politely handing the paper back. Making excuses to leave and rushing back up to my room.

I enter the bathroom and splash water into my face, trying to think on how much this will change things. I already have plans that would likely have me in the paper after the new year. But I'd already be at Hogwarts then, protected, and already a known quantity to its students. This… This would make people have opinions about me before even meeting me. I have no idea of how the purebloods would react to a mudblood defending their traditions. Or how the muggleborns would see that defense. Those that have already experienced abuse and racism and see this naive eleven year old muggleborn defending their abusers ancient ways.

Fuck. I think to myself. Staring into the mirror. Whatever came from this article. My name would be tied to it. If Binns was to be sacked. If Halloween was switched to Samhain… I would be to blame in the eyes of the students. And not that I necessarily minded those changes, because I did agree those magical traditions were important. But I didn't want my name tied as the reason why! Especially as idiot students wouldn't be able to discern the difference between magical culture and history and the inbred racism supported today. They'd think I supported it all. They were incredibly all or nothing these wizards. Especially Hogwarts students. The books proved this over and over again.

I groan, banging my head on the sink. What will someone like Snape think when he sees that article? I might be joining Harry as a punching bag in potions. No doubt I was now attention seeking, crawling out of my orphanage to wax poetically outside wizarding restaurants hopped up on my own importance. Or so I imagine he would put it.

Adults never like it when young students tell them they're wrong about something. It wouldn't matter that I fully believe ancient magical traditions are more important then a muggle holiday. It wouldn't matter if they agreed with me. Adults do not like being shown up by kids. I hope the professors other than Snape were able to see I meant no disrespect to Hogwarts, or to Dumbledore.

That reporter was sitting at the restaurant on the day I was supposed to have good fortune. Or was the good fortune only for my foray into Knockturn Alley as that's what I had asked? I think, wishing I had been a bit more encompassing on my question for the day. Maybe I would have avoided the reporter if I'd asked the dice about my entire day. On the other hand, perhaps I am reading too much into this, and this could have positive side effects. Only time will tell. I'm pessimistic about the outcome, however. I do not hold much faith in the general intelligence of Hogwarts students.

I walk into my room, determined to study and practice magic and stay out of the common areas of the Leaky Cauldron for now. I was almost at the point of a wandless Accio. Some extra time practicing couldn't hurt.

I might need it when I start Hogwarts…

I'm no longer going to be quite as anonymous as I had hoped to start out as.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Authors Note:

This is AU, as one explanation for why things are more magically amazing. Another is that there is only so much room in a book. The world is more alive then what was in those pages.

Also, just personally, the fact most magicals were just like a muggle and just waved a wand a couple times a day while doing their menial store keepers job was too boring. Now the shops and such are much more fun and Interesting. And it does follow what Rowling said about when wizards get together - they like to show off.

So when you build your shop, you show it off. Except Ollivander who could be homeless on the street and people would still come to him for wands.

As before, if you want to know something/ have questions about the direction the story will go or its characters, I'll answer if it's not too spoiler-ish.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

And off to Hogwarts we go!

Time to make merry, get those friends, stay away from canon. And get sorted into Ravenclaw, all going to plan.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Honestly I love magic. I really do. No need to rush this morning. I even have time to sit and read the morning paper with a spot of tea and biscuits. And just this morning I have been able to summon my wand; and anything else I felt like summoning in my room, wandlessly, repeatedly. So life was good.

Thankfully whatever fallout from the article about me, has so far not led to Binns sacking or anything else newsworthy in that manner. I did notice that the Prophet suddenly has more articles on magical traditions - as people write in expressing their opinions for and against. Surprisingly it seems to be favoring for by quite the margin, unless the Prophet is lying, of course. Uncomfortably a lot of the rhetoric revolves around re-educating muggleborns since it seems they can learn. Which… It doesn't really sound very nice.

I don't feel nervous at all as I breathe in the scent of my favorite Earl Grey tea, leaning back in my chair, calmly watching the morning hustle of people coming into the Leaky Cauldron for just a quick nip of something or passing through - oh, and one lady is apparently on fire. It's September 1st, the day it all begins for real. It seems my Occlumency practice really is working, it's supposed to enhance mood stability and control as well as memory retention and focus, or so most fanon have done it, it makes sense if it works that way though. Except for Snape, he's one moody dude. Probably an outlier.

Or perhaps it's my adult mind, knowing that one train ride is not that big of a deal, at work keeping me calm. I frown as I sip at my tea. Or I am a complete idiot. "Tom?" I ask the old barkeep as he rushes by me, halting him in his tracks. "Did you slip a calming draught in my tea?"

Tom cracks a grin, nodding quickly, "Right ye are, lad! A spot of help for yer travels!" And then he winks at me, before rushing away. Wand already conjuring water.

I was wondering why I had such a tepid reaction to the fact a witch by the entrance to the pub seemed to be on fire. A calming draught explains it. I was quite chagrined actually, that apparently potioning up strangers was considered fine and dandy in the wizarding world.

Still. It's damn good tea. So I sit and finish it. Finishing the paper in good order. The witch is still on fire, but it doesn't seem to be hurting her, so by now Tom and the pub's patrons have left her alone to sit and smolder in a corner looking very put out.

I stand up, double-checking I have everything and then I cast a hovering charm on my trunk, I grab it and sidle up to the fireplace, giving Tom a quick wave, having already said my goodbyes earlier.

I grab a pinch of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece, and toss it into the flames, making them flare up green. I confidently call out, "King's Cross station." As I step into the flames, closing my eyes as the sensation of spinning takes over, wizards really do not have comfortable means of fast travel.

If I was never side-along apparated again I'd be a happy little wizard.

I step out of the corresponding fireplace at Platform 9 at King's Cross station, marveling at the bright red train that had taken me on such an amazing journey of fantasy back when I had read the books the first time. This train was where it all really started. I feel like I'm saying that a lot. But these were all milestones.

I step forward, my trunk bobbing along after me in the air as I walk towards the train, not having to dodge around too many people as I have made sure to arrive with plenty of time. I don't stick around the platform, immediately finding my way onto the train, picking a place to sit, and utilizing Wingardium Leviosa to put my trunk away above me.

I remove my dice from their pouch, concentrating on my question, "Do I stay here?" I whisper to the dice, before rolling them. Two minutes of interpretation later and the answer is stay. Good enough for me, I'll keep this compartment then. Having ensured I sat nowhere near where the books had described Harry Potter entering the train. I wanted no part of that mess.

I remove my history book from my mokeskin pouch, opening the book and settling down to read. The train will start to fill soon. I wonder briefly who will find their way to my compartment. Hopefully some unnamed characters with absolutely no drama or plot attached to them. Would it be rude to write absolutely no Grangers on the outside of the compartment door?

About a chapter or so in my book later, my compartment door is slid open, two girls stopping at the entrance to peer at me shyly. One girl has long red hair, done into a braid, expressive blue eyes and a pretty face, the girl following her has blonde hair in pigtails and a pink cherubic face that makes her look even younger than our already young age.

"You're welcome to sit here if you'd like." I speak up, as neither of them has made a move to sit or speak.

The redhead gives me a smile and moves into the apartment, "Thank you, I'm Susan Bones and this is my best friend Hannah Abbott." Susan introduces herself, her pink faced friend following behind her and giving me a jaunty wave as she sits down next to Susan.

"Nice to meet you both, my name is Lucas Greenwood." I say politely. To my relief neither one of them react to my name. Perhaps that one article really hadn't been picked up as being very important. Thankfully the slew of articles since, have not mentioned me by name.

Any further chatting is interrupted as Su Li appears in the doorway. Brightening as she sees me, "Can I sit here?" She practically squeaks out.

"Of course, as long as the ladies have no issue?" I say, looking over the two future Hufflepuffs who both reply in the negative.

Su Li smiles shyly at them, and drags her trunk inside with her.

Noticing the other two girls also have their trunks at their feet still, I ask them if they need anything out of them, before using the levitation spell to put them away as well.

"You can already do spells that well?" Hannah asks, looking on with excitement as the trunks levitate up and above them into the overhead compartments.

"I have practiced a bit." I admit, sitting back down, Su Li sitting down next to me as the future Hufflepuffs have the opposite bench.

"How? Aren't you a muggleborn? I don't recognize your last name. Isn't it illegal to do magic at home?" Susan frowns at me. Spoken like the niece of the woman running the Department of Magical law enforcement.

"I am muggleborn, yes, but I spent the last month at the Leaky Cauldron, and it's not actually illegal to cast magic in a magical area." I explain, keeping it simple, technically once I've joined the first year it would be illegal for me to do magic even in a magical area in the summer. The Ministry couldn't track it however so it was somewhat a moot point.

"Oh, that's okay then." Susan brightens, now that she doesn't think I'm committing crimes. "I'm a half blood and Hannah is as well." Apparently blood status is just something you introduce yourself with, groovy. I think, a bit perplexed.

"Hannah can speak for herself." Hannah grumbles slightly which makes Susan roll her eyes. These two obviously already know each other well.

All eyes turn to Su who squeaks out a quick, "Half blood." Before ducking her head, peering out at us from those long eyelashes of hers.

"You're pretty cute when you go all shy like that, Su." I say with a small teasing smile.

She blushes beet red and stares at me, as Susan and Hannah both giggle.

"You can't just say that to a girl!" Susan takes pity on Su. Moving over to her other side and putting an arm around the short girl. "He's just a boy, don't worry about him." She soothes.

Yet another girl crashes our compartment, bringing her trunk with her, this one however quickly levitates her own trunk, taking a seat next to Hannah. "This compartment is full now, no one else can sit here." She says intently, staring at us.

Being as she was a very cute Indian girl with long black hair held in a plait. I assume this is either Parvati or Padma Patil. And considering her serious mien. I'll wager Padma.

Sure enough, before any of us can answer the abrupt girl, her twin appears in the doorway. "Padma, don't run off on me like that! I've already found the perfect compartment with this girl Lavender, and she brought all her witch weeklies!" Parvati, despite being Padma's twin, is easily identified by her more cheerful disposition and colorful hair bands all over her plait.

"I like it here." Padma says monotonously, as if to be as different from her cheery sister as possible.

Parvati lets out a big breath of air, "C'mon, Padma!" She whines, she looks around the compartment, "Maybe Lavender and I can come in here."

Padma looks like she's about to say something biting and I jump in before there's family drama in my drama free compartment. "This compartment is full unfortunately, but I am sure you'll see your sister at Hogwarts."

Parvati looks at the empty spot next to her sister. Susan, catching on quick, still holding on to Su, answers her unspoken question. "Su's not feeling well so she'll need two spots to stretch out in." Su going very red as everyone looks at her just sells it better. I give her a thumbs up.

Parvati rolls her eyes, giving Padma one last annoyed look, before she flounces off. Saving me from the drama and more importantly, from having two of the absolute worst types of girls in my compartment. The gossipy boy obsessed fashion girls with empty heads. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown definitely qualified.

"Thanks, she's so exhausting." Padma sighs, allowing us a small honest smile.

"What is it like being a twin?" Hannah asks curiously.

Padma gives her a look, "Exhausting." She repeats dryly.

"Thanks for taking one for the team, Su." I say, giving the small Asian girl another thumbs up.

"It's alright. I don't think I could have spent the entire train ride with her." Su says quietly. Padma nods fiercely at that sentiment.

"She wasn't so bad." Susan says diplomatically, before standing up and shutting the compartment door. "Closed for business!" She says cheerfully.

"And what is our business?" I ask amusedly.

"To read quietly until we arrive at Hogwarts." Padma says happily.

"Nooo…" Susan groans dramatically, flopping back next to Su.

"To take over the world?" I ask, ribbing the redhead lightly.

Her eyes narrow at me, "I'm watching you, mister!" But she's grinning.

"To hide from loud people." Su whispers, getting in on the little gag.

"Nooo…" Susan stops herself, tilting her head in thought, "Well. Kind of." She admits with a giggle.

Every eye turns to Hannah who looks nervous to be put on the spot. The pigtailed girl stammers for a second before rushing out, "To become best friends forever!"

Susan grins, jumping over and hugging her friend, who lets out a quiet squeak, cheeks red. "Trust my best friend to hit it right on the head!" She cheers.

"I don't even know your names." Padma deadpans.

"Who's fault is that?" I say with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow, referencing her quick entrance.

Before introductions can be made, the door slides open again. And Nymphadora Tonks pokes her head in. Smirking when she spots me. "Wotcher, playboy! Should have figured you'd have already found yourself a harem, Lucas." She teases.

I stare up at the roof exasperated, "Don't make things weird, Tonks."

"Your face is weird!" Is her mature response. Making the girls around me giggle. Gotta hand it to Tonks, she knows what audience she's playing for.

"Why are you here, harassing me?" I ask, my lips twitching. It's hard to be annoyed when girls are giggling all around you.

"Just making sure my future target prac- "She breaks up her sentence with a cough, eying the girls around me, "I mean helpful friend, is on the train, wouldn't want to miss the fun at Hogwarts." She grins at me with anticipation.

"So nice of you to look after me." I say very dryly. "Truly you are a wonderful witch."

She preens, one hand rubbing her nails against her shoulder, pretending to brush something off them, "I am aren't I?"

"Girls, this is Nymphadora Tonks. Pay particular attention to that first name." I introduce her to the compartment. Smirking at the rapidly reddening witch.

Tonks brandishes her wand, "You just wait until we get to Hogwarts you little smartass!" She hisses, before closing the compartment and stalking off. She's so easy to rile up, although I'm sure I'll pay for it.

"I'm going to pay for that one." I say wryly. I shrug, "Totally worth it."

"I wouldn't want to be known by my first name either if it was Nymphadora! " Hannah giggles.

Introductions are finally made, and the compartment settles into small talk about our different families as the train starts moving. I obviously do not have much to add. But I listen with interest. It's not like the Harry Potter books went into a lot of background on anyone not a protagonist or a Weasley. Hermione didn't really even get a background during the entire seven years.

I pay attention as Su begins to speak shyly.

"My mom is a half-blood and my father was a pureblood. Mom works as a model and has her own fashion company." Su explains her family situation quietly. I notice the was in regards to her father idly.

Hannah and Susan both gasp excitedly, while Padma and me both remain calm, not seeing the big deal. Su blushes as Hannah and Susan both squeeze in next to each side of her, forcing me to jump over to the other bench with Padma. Both excitedly pepper her with questions about her mother, who is apparently fairly famous for her beauty and her witch only clothing brand.

"Yes, I can move, thank you for so kindly asking." I quip sarcastically from beside Padma. The Indian girl smirking as the other three girls completely ignore me to continue on about fashion. I suppose I was never going to avoid the topic getting myself stuck in a compartment with girls.

"Not as into fashion, then?" I ask Padma, tilting my head at the chattering girls in question. Su looks a bit more animated talking about a subject she's at home with.

Padma looks like she's in pain as she leans back on the bench. "With Parvati as a sister I know much more than I would ever like to know." She admits. "I've seen Su's mother in magazines, she's gorgeous, Parvati practically idolizes her, so I'm glad she didn't hear Su's last name." She sighs, "My only hope is that we get into different houses at Hogwarts."

I could definitely agree on Su's mother being absolutely gorgeous, but figured I probably shouldn't say that with her daughter in the compartment. I wasn't aware Padma and Parvati had issues, but then you're definitely different people if you end up in different houses as twins. "You two don't get along?" I ask politely. "I'd have thought siblings would try and get into the same house."

Padma rolls her eyes, "We get along fine, Parvati just isn't someone you can handle all hours of the day." Her countenance darkens slightly, "Especially as she gets to take it easy."

"Family expectations?" I say quietly after a short pause to collect my thoughts, a bit surprised. Then again Rowling never did flesh out anyone.

Padma scowls, "She was born first." Then she settles into silence, either not willing to expound further or simply lost in thought.

I don't know enough about pureblood families to know exactly how this status would change things, so I don't comment yet. Usually being the heir meant more expectations not less. So I wasn't sure if this was a pureblood thing, an Indian thing, or just something to do with their family in general. And it would be rude to push.

I try to lighten the mood, "Well I've only known the two of you for minutes - In your case, and seconds in hers. And I can already tell you're the smart one, and that's what really matters isn't it?"

Padma snorts, "If you're trying to cheer me up, that was a terrible attempt." She tosses her hair arrogantly, "A rock could tell I'm smarter than Parvati!" She is smiling though.

"And you're prettier too!" Susan interjects cheerfully, the terrible trio seemingly finished with their fashion discussion.

"We're twins." Padma deadpans, but her lips are twitching.

"I'm glad you're finished with the subject-which-must-not-be-named, and have returned to the present." I say teasingly. Padma snorts again beside me.

"Boys!" Hannah rolls her eyes, but she's chuckling, Susan rolling her eyes in sync with her best friend. Su however is looking at me with these big puppy eyes, making me squirm slightly.

"Of course, Su is an expert no doubt and her wisdom should be sought." I ramble out, defeated by shiny big soulful eyes.

"Su's already got him trained." Susan giggles, giving Su a shoulder bump. Su smiling along shyly.

"You realize you are absolutely doomed." Padma tells me dryly.

I look around the room of girls, realizing my only other acquaintance is Tonks. And I get a sudden desire to find a male to offset the balance. I can not have only female friends, puberty will be murder in that case.

"Dooomed!" Susan and Hannah, cry out, laughing at me. Even Su is smiling along, drawing a chuckle out of Padma.

I shrug, "You're all too cute to scare me." Smirking as all the girls blush. They'll have to work harder if they want to off balance me.

"You can't just say that!" Susan complains again, cheeks red.

"You're even cuter when you blush." I quip, watching her go tomato red as Hannah outright cackles, watching her friend.

Padma punches my shoulder, "Stop being such a boy!" She orders.

"I'm not sure I can follow through on that." I tell her, rubbing my shoulder gingerly. Damn, little girl can punch.

"He doesn't get to call us cute, when he has such girly silky hair, it's absolutely gorgeous." Hannah jumps in with mischievous eyes alight.

Susan immediately catches on and smirks at me, cheeks still red. "And those eyes, so dreamy!"

I can feel my own cheeks reddening, "Hey, stop that!" I say, starting to feel embarrassed as they all focus on me while grinning. Even Su.

"Such a cute and nice smile, makes you feel nice." Su mumbles, a tiny grin on her face.

"Hey, even you, Su?" I complain. Fully blushing now.

Padma eyes me speculatively, "He has a cute butt." She says finally. Making Susan and Hannah cackle outright as I blush beet red. Su falling into Susan she's giggling so hard.

"I'm the butt of the joke at least." I chuckle, admitting they really got me back good. Trying to will my blush to back down, Occlumency probably helping a bit in settling my embarrassment.

"Let's just all agree we're adorable and move on before we make Su pass out from the giggles." I continue, my own blush receding.

"Aww," Susan pouts, "I was just getting started."

Hannah giggles, "We have seven years to go." She suggests to her best friend. Sending me a sly look.

"I'm starting to see the doom now." I tell Padma. She only smirks.

We're interrupted as the snack lady comes by our compartment and Susan and Hannah immediately get up to overdose on sweets. While us sensible people stay put. Or in my case. I'm an orphan that can't see himself spending my money on candy instead of things that could help my magic going forward.

"Not a sweets fan?" I ask Padma and Su, curious about their reasons. Wanting to know more about people I've only ever known by name, or a sentence or two.

Padma shakes her head, pulling her plait over her shoulder. "They make Parvati hyper, so I just started avoiding them in general."

"My mom only makes Chinese sweets, there's too much sugar in British ones." Su explains her own stance.

"She makes her own? That's cool." I say, nodding appreciatively. "I'd like to try them someday."

Su smiles, "I'll have her owl some for the holidays!"

"You didn't tell us why you didn't like sweets." Padma points out.

I grimace inwardly while keeping a calm face on the outside. There's really no way to say it without making them feel bad about it. "I'm an orphan so I don't really have the money for sweets." I explain as placidly as I can.

Both Padma and Su look saddened, Padma speaking up, "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't mean to put you on the spot." She says guiltily.

I shake my head just as Susan and Hannah come back in, arms full of candy. The chocolate around Hannah's lips show that they didn't wait long to devour some. "Don't worry about it, Padma. And don't feel bad about it, it is what it is and I'm fine with it." I see her skeptical sad look and add a "Really." Which doesn't seem to convince her.

Suddenly Su is standing in front of me with a determined look on her face, a chocolate frog in her hand that she just snatched from Susan. "Eat it!" She says firmly, no shyness visible.

"Uh… No, really, I'm good." I try, holding my hands up in front of me in defense. The cute little girl had become really intense all of a sudden.

"What's going on?" Hannah wants to know, looking between Su and me.

Su stands firm, "He's never had sweets, because he's an orphan, so I'm giving him one, now eat it!" She orders, lips thin and gaze fiery as she meets my eyes.

"That's not really giving, more like forcing, and didn't you just steal that from Susan?" I say, trying to deflect the intense girl away from me.

Both Susan and Hannah give me compassionate looks at that revelation and I grit my teeth, being basically on my own did have its advantages but this was one I really dislike, the pity.

"We bought it for all of us to share anyway, Lucas. Su is right, you need to try these." Susan tries a more gentle approach. Reaching out to me with another chocolate frog in her hand.

"I really don't need charity." I protest. Am I interested in the difference from muggle candy, yes. Have I had no sweets for years, also yes. Does that mean I need to use up these girls' pocket money, absolutely not!

"For the love of Merlin, it's just candy." Padma sighs, reaching over to the pile, grabbing some Bertie Botts every flavor beans and tossing it in my lap.

"You'll make Su upset if you don't accept her gift soon, Lucas." Hannah points out slyly.

I turn my gaze back to Su, who indeed is starting to look less and less determined and more mortified as she stands there, a chocolate frog in her hand.

"Thank you…Su…" I say, grabbing the candy from her tiny hand. I carefully open the package under the gazes of my compartment mates, barely able to catch the chocolate frog as it makes a leap into the air. I stare at it in my hand for a moment, before biting its head off. The animation wears off immediately. The taste is perfect, not too crazy sweet and just deeply chocolatey and gooey. Magic makes everything better! "That's so good…" I say, taking another bite.

Su sits back down with a small smile, accepting a sweet from Susan a second later, but not doing anything with it, she didn't like British sweets much, but Susan and Hannah had missed that conversation. I was starting to see hints of why Su's mother had called her a spitfire though.

"Just accept it next time, we're friends now, it's not charity, it's just sharing." Padma says decisively.

"Says the girl who did not buy the candy." I point out with a smirk, the Indian girl getting a pink tint to her cheeks, looking away from me refusing to acknowledge my point.

"She's completely right! We're friends and sharing is caring!" Susan jumps in, patting Padma on the knee. "We don't care that you're an…Or-Orphan." She almost trips on the last word, looking sad just saying it. This girl really wears her emotions on her sleeve.

"No one's allowed to be sad!" Hannah pokes Susan in the ribs making the girl squeak and throw her a dirty look. "We're on our way to Hogwarts, only smiles now!"

"Well we know my extensive family history now," I say dryly, wanting to move away from the subject as soon as possible. "What about you two?" I ask Susan and Hannah.

Susan brightens up, "I live with my aunt Amelia, she is so cool." She then dims a little, her smile becoming a bit brittle, "She works a lot though at the Ministry of Magic." Before perking right up again, " So I stay over with the Abbots all the time." Merlin this girl needs Occlumency for some emotional control, I think amusedly.

Hannah pipes in at that obvious segue. "My dad's a muggle born and he runs his own pub!" She says excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat "My mom's a pureblood and dad took her name, she mostly works in our greenhouses, they're huge!" She throws her arms out wide, almost hitting Susan in the face. The blonde throws a chocolate frog at the pigtailed girl in retaliation.

"You must be pretty good at Herbology, then?" I ask, interested. It was one subject I couldn't really practice in.

Hannah throws the chocolate frog back at a giggling Susan, before answering. "I'm decent, my mom's the one that's like a plant mistress.*

I hum in thought, "Well, I'll come to you if I have any questions about Herbology then. I've mostly read up on Transfiguration, History of Magic and Divination."

"I've already studied ahead pretty far in Potions, Charms and Astronomy." Padma offers. Seeing the beginning of a study group just as well as I do. Smart girl.

"Arithmancy and Defense against the dark arts." Su says, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Susan looks at her with wide eyes, "Arithmancy is a third year subject, you must be really smart!" She says to Su, who looks pleased at the praise.

"Hey! Divination is a third year subject as well, why aren't you calling me really smart?" I tease gently, drawing a giggle out of Su.

Susan looks at me like I'm crazy, "It's divination." She explains, like that covers everything.

"Besides, Su is a girl, so she's obviously smarter than you." Padma deadpans.

My disgruntled face has the girls giggling again. I decide not to educate them on the value of divination at the moment. And Su looks so pleased to have her intelligence acknowledged there's really no point in bringing her down. Because I'm not an ass.

"You guys must all be going to Ravenclaw, I've only tried some Defense against the Dark Arts and Potions." Susan sighs, once the giggle fest is over.

"Only, she says. About the two hardest subjects at Hogwarts." I quip to Padma, drawing a smirk out of her, and having Susan smile brightly as I assure her she wasn't lesser in any way.

"We'll still hang out, even if we're in different houses, right?" Hannah asks unsurely. Looking between us, we all nod.

"We're totally fit to be the best study group in Hogwarts anyway." I say.

"I'd like that." Su agrees.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts continues in the same light teasing tone and with making plans for meeting up, no matter what house we end up in. I do end up getting kidnapped by Tonks for an hour to just hang out, which saddens me a little, because if she's kidnapping me to hang out on the train, how many friends does she have? Can't be many. She also very reluctantly let me go back to the firsties.

Eventually a few hours later I end up leaving to get changed, allowing the girls in the compartment to switch into their school robes. I find a nearby bathroom and accidentally walk into someone, knocking them over. "Shit, are you okay?" I ask. I hadn't even been walking that fast, they must have shit balance. Then the student turns around. That explains it. It's Neville Longbottom.

"I'm fine." He says quietly. Face downturned as he accepts my hand and is helped up on his feet.

I grab the second chocolate frog that Susan had forced into my hands out of my pocket and shove it at him, "Here, it will help make you feel better."

Neville stares at me confused, before slowly taking the chocolate frog out of my hand. "I don't think anything will." He says with a weak smile. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a bit puffy. Bad encounter on the train most likely. Malfoy already? I wonder.

"Chin up, we're almost at Hogwarts!" I say encouragingly. Which has the opposite effect as Neville blanches completely white and whimpers.

"You can come sit with us, if you'd like, we're all probably going to be Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs so we don't bite." I try another tack. I'm sure the girls won't mind Neville joining us for the last bit. He's so harmless it's ridiculous. Considering we all have reality altering murder weapons.

"I can't, I have to be in Gryffindor." Neville mumbles self consciously, almost like a mantra. Who the fuck raised this kid? Neville had kind of been a bit bland and background for a lot of the books, The little pudgy boy everyone picks on, even the main characters really didn't think much of him, even if they didn't pick on him. So my memory of his guardian is a bit loose, since I know his parents are in St. Mungo's. It was someone with a crazy hat I think I can remember.

"The only thing you can be is you." I say firmly, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a shake, making him look at me. "No one can be anything but themselves, so you be you, and if Gryffindor is what you want? Then shout it loud and demand it, for you. Not for whoever wants you in there. What's best for you, seven years is how long you're going to be at Hogwarts, so don't do anything because of someone else. Do it because you want to do it!"

Neville stares at me like he's never seen anyone like me before and I remove my hand from his shoulder self conscious of how I tend to rant and get myself in trouble. But surely this wouldn't be a problem? Giving Neville some spine from the beginning would only help him in Gryffindor.

"You're right… I think." He mumbles, but his face is clearing up and he's standing straighter. "C-can I join you, in your compartment?" He asks, hesitantly.

"Sure, just let me get changed first, " I hold my hand out, "I'm Lucas Greenwood by the way."

Neville shakes my hand, a wondering look on his face, "You're the boy who talked about magical traditions in the paper! My Nan wouldn't stop talking about how you're the only thing that's made any sense in the prophet for years!" He blushes slightly, realizing he forgot to introduce himself, and is still shaking my hand. He drops it, and rushes out, "My name's Neville Longbottom."

Of all the people to recognize my name it's Neville Longbottom. I think slightly irritated with the supposition that I was in the paper by choice, and not dragged in by some nosy reporter eavesdropping on me. "It was my words, to an extent, but I didn't agree to be put in the paper." I say, shaking my head.

Neville nods, not looking surprised, "That's the Daily Prophet."

So the paper being shit is just considered; oh well, it's our paper, innit? Why am I not surprised? I had held some hope that Rita Skeeter and whoever edited the paper were just bad eggs. Then this Routledge fellow just used my name and small rant to further his own agenda while leaving me to take the shit from anyone that didn't like it, while he walked scot free. Magic was amazing. But magical institutions really needed some work.

I get changed quickly in one of the stalls before taking Neville to my compartment, dragging him in before me, declaring to everyone, "I have brought a sacrifice for the wicked witches of the compartment, so that I may be spared for another turn of the moon!"

Neville looks panicked for just a moment before all the giggling looks from the girls has him more panicked. This boy doesn't like being the center of attention at all.

"Neville, it's nice to see you again." Susan giggles, at our questioning looks she explains further, "There's a lot of parties pureblood families and ministry officials go to, Hannah and I have run into Neville loads of times before."

"Nice to see you, Hannah, Susan." Neville says politely, still looking a bit white. I shove him In-between the two girls without compunction. The girls making room for him, Su already sitting next to Padma on the other side, allowing me to slide between them as well.

"Not you two?" I ask Padma and Su once we're all seated.

"We're foreign." Su says simply. And I guess in this insular world that would perhaps be seen just as bad as being, Merlin forbid, a muggleborn! Wizards are ridiculous!

"Our family only moved to Britain in the last generation, we probably won't be invited to any of those parties for another two generations or so." Padma says, the look on her face clearly saying she didn't mind one bit.

"They're really dry and boring anyway." Hannah says," Making a face," You have to stand around and be polite and have small talk with boys like Nott or Selwyn." She shudders theatrically.

"I take it we don't like Nott and Selwyn?" I ask, not surprised, didn't that whole Slytherin bunch belong to death eater families this year, although I don't remember a Selwyn... No, wait! There's those two fanfiction darlings Zabini and Greengrass, they were so bland and non existent that they never were mentioned as Death Eaters. Or as anything, really. It made them fanon darlings for a while.

"No we do not!" Susan says firmly. And by Neville's wince, he agrees.

Conversation slows down soon after as we approach Hogwarts. Everyone but me showed signs of nervousness. No doubt worried about what houses they'll be in and such. I wasn't worried. As everyone kept telling me, I was a shoe in for Ravenclaw. And Slytherin was already out for obvious reasons.

Trying to pass through the throngs of students leaving their compartments all at the same time is not easy when you're the smallest age group amongst giants. Our group constantly gets broken up by some big footed seventh year who doesn't notice us little ones scurrying around.

No wonder Hagrid is the one taking firsties on, his bellowing voice and large stature is the only reason any firsties make it off alive and in the right direction. As he declares no more than four to a boat, Neville and I do the only proper thing, and allow the girls to travel together. While we climb into a boat that houses two girls that I have no idea who they are, twins as well. Although Neville seems to recognize them, so I'm assuming purebloods.

The view of Hogwarts as we float along, is absolutely spectacular. As someone who has played the legacy game and explored the halls religiously, I could honestly say that reality was a hundred times grander than the best graphics money could buy. The castle looks ancient and beautiful, and you can practically feel the magic even here by the lake.

I briefly spot Harry Potter and mentally thank him in advance for being such a magnet for trouble that he'll take all the heat over the next few years. Soon enough we make our way to the entrance, I'm just entranced not only by the look of Hogwarts, but the feel of the castle.

The door swings open immediately as we arrive. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stands there. She looks like a younger version of her movie self, while Hagrid looked almost identical to his actor. Makes sense since magicals age slower and McGonagall was older then Hagrid, but not old enough for the wizarding version of old age yet. Seventy to Eighty for a wizard or witch was basically hitting your forties to fifties.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid practically booms out.

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

McGonagall says as she pulls the door wide. The entrance hall was huge, and just as beautiful as I had imagined, beautiful inlaid wooden paneling, wherever it wasn't pure ancient stone. Moving paintings and statues everywhere. The walls were lit with flaming lanterns, burning bright, the ceiling is too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase faced us, no doubt leading to the upper floors. It seemed a mix between the movies and the game. Not quite as filled with fun dragon skeletons and such, as the game is, but the look is similar otherwise. I wonder how many secret locations are shared. Food for thought, I think, excited for the chance to explore.

Professor McGonagall showed us into a small, empty chamber off the Great Hall. We all crowd in, standing rather closer together than we would probably usually do, peering about nervously. I almost wanted to shout, boo! Just to see how far some of these little ones would jump. I didn't because, one, I figured Neville would jump the highest. And two, I didn't want detention.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall says primly. "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."

I almost scoff, but manage to suppress it, not wanting to gain a detention before my sorting for interrupting the Deputy Headmistress. I really want to ask her a few years from now how the houses are like a family. Harry Potter would agree… using the Dursley's as his baseline for family.

Professor McGonagall continues on, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards." There is a slight pause, maybe she's taking a breath, or maybe she's trying to think of a noble Slytherin. That might take her awhile.

She sends a stern look around the room, "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 honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." The stern glare she levels us with practically demands we live up to that hope. I am almost tempted to tell her that the house cup is from now on more dependent on what Harry does, then any hard working student.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes linger for a moment on who I believe is Seamus Finnegan, who somehow is smoking a little just standing there, looking singed, and on Ron's smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall says sharply. "Please wait quietly." She leaves the chamber.

I steady Neville with a hand on his shoulder as the ghosts 'totally by accident' make their way into the Great Hall antechamber we're all waiting in while McGonagall checks that everything is ready for us.

"Breathe Neville, ignore the buffoon." I whisper to him as what can only be Ron Weasley blathers on about fighting a troll. Huh. Maybe he has a touch of divination in him, come to think of it. Well he was bound to have something in him. Other than food and chess.

McGonagall returns and leads us all into the Great Hall. Words are not enough to describe the feeling of entering, seeing the magnificent hall stretch out before us, every student and professor watching us. The floating candles brightening the entire hall, the ceiling which is by both definitions absolutely enchanting. While others around me shuffle with nervousness or even fear. I have a hard time keeping a grin off my face. I'm actually here!

Sweeping my eyes over the professors at the head table I note that they all look remarkably similar to their movie counterparts which is slightly odd when I consider that none of the small brats I've seen have looked like their movie counterparts. Neville looked nowhere near as clueless as the actor who had played him. I'd spotted the little Malfoy and his face was much more narrow and arrogant then his actor. Harry himself looked way sharper and edgier than Daniel Radcliffe, while the bushy haired Hermione looked nothing at all like Emma Watson. You really notice her teeth here. Ron Weasley has the unfortunate luck of looking like his book description.

I focus as suddenly the hat sitting on a stool, that most of us have been staring at in confusion, opens it brim 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.

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 whole hall bursts into applause as the hat finishes its song. It bows to each of the four tables and then becomes quiet again. I was quite impressed. Not with the song, because honestly I already knew it and thought it really just enforced the house stereotypes, but its singing voice was actually spectacular.

Professor McGonagall steps forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she says and there's a shiver that runs through all us firsties.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

Hannah stumbles forward and sits down, the hat falling down over her eyes, and almost immediately -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouts.

The table on the right cheers and claps as Hannah sits down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouts again, Susan smiling brightly as she runs to sit next to Hannah. The girls exchanging a quick hug.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stand up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. I honestly found that somewhat pretentious.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Again the applause followed by the somewhat pretentious hand shaking routine. Having an older student sending you along for handshakes just seems a bit condescending. Just let the kiddos sit down, gents. I think scoffing slightly.

"Brown, Lavender" The hat calls out, Lavender giggles nervously as she runs up to the hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouts after a minute. The table on the far left explodes with cheers. I notice that the Weasley twins manage to be the loudest, no surprise there.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" The large girl strides up to the hat like she's about to wring its neck.

"SLYTHERIN!" Comes the expected result seconds after her hat slides over her eyes.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" I have to hand it to the Puffs, they celebrate loudly and wildly for each new addition. And it seems fairly genuine.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione speedwalks to the stool and jams the hat on eagerly. She's a cute kid, but I doubt she'll ever grow up to be as beautiful as her actress. The hat takes a minute to decide this time. No doubt arguing for Ravenclaw.

"GRYFFINDOR!" It shouts, and Hermione looks thrilled as she rushes to the applauding Gryffindor table.

Suddenly I realize, Granger. We're at the G's. I'm next. I take a deep breath as the hat opens up yet again.

"Greenwood, Lucas!" I calmly walk forward and sit down, sliding the hat on, hoping for the best.

" Hoh? Very interesting, hmm. Interesting indeed!" The hat speaks directly into my mind. "Not often I see one of you, indeed the last one was in the late 1800's!"

" Just sort me into Ravenclaw, don't make everyone wait on me." I say mentally. Part of me is curious about what the hat said, the other definitely does not want to get into a discussion on my previous life experience.

" Ravenclaw eh? You'd do well there, that is true." The sorting hat agrees. " Wit and a thirst for knowledge. You'd do well indeed."

" Glad we are agreed." I project dryly.

" I see ambition burning in you, hmm. Lots of cunning as well, you do have a ruthless streak in there too don't you?" The hat goes on and I freeze under it. Nope, no, no, just no. Don't you dare go there.

" Don't you DARE send me into that hellhole! I'll be dead or a dark lord by the time I'm 15!" I argue back, there was no way I was allowing this stupid hat to put me, a muggleborn, in Slytherin.

" Not very suited for Gryffindor perhaps. Hmm." The hat ponders on and I bite my tongue. Is that flea bitten piece of crap saying I'm not brave?

"Your plan for the devastation to come is to ignore it and then flee the country until it goes away." The hat says in a deadpan.

" That's just common bloody sense! I can't fight freaking Lord Voldemort, let the prophesied one do it!" I argue back, hearing the mutters of the students as my sorting is by far the longest one so far.

" On the other hand, you're not a genius, not by any stretch, you come by your intelligence through impressive commitment to hard work. An admirable trait, you work for everything you've ever had, yes." The hat rambles on and my mind is blown. What is even happening right now? "And fiercely loyal to family and friends in your past life. You would do well to pick that back up, no one can go through life alone. That's a self imposed exile you've done, lad."

" There can only be one place for you, and that is, HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat finally shouts out my house and I take it off, walking towards the cheering Hufflepuff table. Somewhat shocked, but not altogether displeased. Just not something I would have imagined. I feel a rush of anger, but I bottle it up quickly, no use in it.

I get a hug of excitement from both Susan and Hannah, both seem surprised but delighted. And I sit down, taking a minute to process before moving to take a drink, just wondering how I ended up here. Just to spit it out in shock soon after when Neville fucking Longbottom. joins me, less than three minutes after I came over. I look over at the Ravenclaw table and see Su already settling in, she must have had a lightning quick sorting.

"How? Why? I thought, Gryffindor?" I manage to ask weakly, pumpkin juice still stuck the wrong way. And by the way. Never having this again. This shit is disgusting.

Neville beams at me, "I did what you said, I picked my own way and told the hat exactly where I wanted to be. With my friends!" This earns him a hug from Susan. Me, I'm busy lamenting how me trying to make Neville more confident to survive Gryffindor better, made him a Hufflepuff.

"Well, we're glad to have you, Neville." I say giving him a pat on the back. Spotting Tonks further down the table, I excuse myself. If I have to suffer, so should she.

A firstie suddenly walking down the length of the table towards the seventh years has most of the table turn and watch me instead of the sorting. Tonks sees me approach and loudly groans. Putting her head in her hands. Sweet, she already knows me so well!

"Hello Tonks." I greet her cheerfully. The other seventh year students giving me confused looks. I give them a grin with all teeth, feeling off, stupid pumpkin juice probably poisoned me.

"Lucas." Tonks says, removing her hands to sigh, and stare at me with trepidation. "What do you want, you little gremlin?"

"I seem to remember that you bet me that you'd eat your knickers if I didn't get sorted into Ravenclaw." I remind her as her face goes pure red and then shock white, as one of the students next to her chokes on his drink. "I just came to find out if you wanted to eat them in front of the whole common room, or a more private setting."

"Merlin, kid!" One of the seventh year males breathes out in awe. "You've got a heavy pair on you!"

"Edwin!" The seventh year girl next to Tonks, a beautiful black girl with a prefects badge on a sizable chest , snaps. She gives me a golden eyed glare that could probably melt steel.

"C'mon Ophelia! He's managed to break Tonks!" Edwin whines. Pointing at the girl who's hair is going between several colors rapidly. And she's muttering to herself, most of the words seem to be unkind. Several of the students around us are laughing at her.

"If this is a bad time, I'll ask again some other time." I say with a butter won't melt smile. Which finally snaps Tonks out of her fugue.

"Tomorrow after classes!" She snaps at me. Then seeing the wide eyes and red faces of those around her she growls, "Not for that you perverts!" She turns my way and her eyes are practically Voldemort red, "For beating this firsties skull in, until intelligence starts seeping into the pretty little pieces!"

"I'll be there!" I say cheerfully. Everyone is staring at me even harder as I walk back to my spot next to Susan, Hannah and Neville.

"What was that about?" Susan asks, curious. And mildly wary, watching the death glare from Tonks.

I hum in thought. "I decided I needed motivation."

"For what?" A brown haired boy a seat down and across from me, which must be Justin Finch-Fletchley, asks.

"To survive." I say, only half joking.

I knew exactly what the damned hat was trying to pull. It knew that I was trying to make the decision to focus on magic, to not get drawn into the plot. It was very unlike the me from before. But that me didn't face concentration camps if I failed at something. That was literally a possibility in just a few years. It pissed me off. If the hat could see all that, how dare it judge me for not wanting to go through it.

If I went into Ravenclaw, not only would I have been able to disappear into books easily, my friends in Ravenclaw, Padma and Su, loved books just as much, and likely wouldn't try and pull me away. They also had private rooms, once again making it easier for me to focus on my studies and extracurricular magic.

The hat put me in Hufflepuff. Where of course I could still study. But my friends and likely even strangers and the house prefects would probably intervene if I spent too much time away. The Hufflepuffs seemed the only house that tried to live up to the; your house is like a family schtick. What few friends and family I had in my past life. I would have murdered for, died for. I did do the hardworking and loyal thing, damn.

The damn hat was trying to tie me down here and force me to help the damn plot to save my new friends. Smart fucker.

So it might have been a teensy bit suicidal to aggravate Tonks. Honestly, it made me wonder if I had masochistic tendencies. Yet I just had this feeling that I needed to have my ass beat. To see how tiny and useless I was against someone with full scope of their magic. I needed to reaffirm how I have no business being on the battlefield or performing guerilla attacks against Death Eaters. That and I just felt angry, and I needed an outlet. Having spent some of it, I'm already regretting my actions. I should be better than that.

My sister would be ashamed of how I just acted.

I note with idle bewilderment that I've missed the entire rest of the sorting, and Dumbledore's speech as food appears in front of me. I sniff the newly filled goblet in front of me. Yep, it's still puking juice. Eh, I mean pumpkin, I mean…Either or works. "This is disgusting."

"You've already said that." Hannah points out.

"It needed saying twice." I sniff haughtily.

"Eat some food, grumpy." Susan piles some mashed potatoes onto my plate.

I so want to say you're not you when you're hungry, right now. I think, chuckling to myself as I start loading up my plate. She's right though, I am grumpy.

"So what did I miss?" I ask, loading my plate to Ronald Weasley levels of excess. I'll need it for my beating tomorrow.

"Harry Potter went into Gryffindor." Neville says, eating slowly as befitting of a pureblood heir. His shoulders are still slightly slouched in, but he seems happy at the Hufflepuff table.

"I said what did I miss, Potter was always going to be a dumb Gryffindor." I say teasingly.

"Too right." A pompous looking boy says arrogantly two seats down from me. I squint at him, "Who are you?"

He puffs up, "Zacharias S-" I wave my hand in his direction and keep talking to an amused Susan. "Anyway, Susan, what did I miss?" Hufflepuff or not, I wasn't going to deal with pompousness at all, we're eleven for Merlin's sake. Well… Most of us. And I kind of remember this kid as a total dick anyway.

Susan just smiles at me and mimes as if her lips are sealed. Before taking a spoonful of peas and filling her not very sealed mouth, her eyes filled with mirth at my annoyance. Or the pompous boy, could be either, or both.

"Hey! I was talki-" is abruptly cut off as I turn to Hannah, "Hannah, sweetie, darling, you'll be nice and tell me what I missed won't you?" I ask.

Hannah giggles, eyeing the reddening boy a few seats down with amusement. Maybe she knew he was a dick too? "Headmaster Dumbledore said we'd find a painful death if we went to the third floor corridor on the right hand side."

"I'm talking to yo-" I ignore the loud nonsense in my ears and hum thoughtfully. "So, how many Gryffindors will be dead by Monday?" I say, some guilty chuckles from most of those near me. I see I wasn't the only one having the thought.

"That's mean!" Susan says, using a napkin to dab her lips to hide how wide her smile is. Hannah not bothering to hide hers at all.

A furious red faced firstie suddenly stands next to me having put his hand on my shoulder to get my attention. "Finally! Stop igno-" He starts.

"Who are you?" I ask, tilting my head slightly. "You seem familiar, have we met?"

Can eleven year olds have aneurysms? He looks like he's about to have one. "My name is Zacha-"

I turn back to the table, "So was anyone taking the bet on how many Gryffies would be dead by Monday?"

No one answers, they're too busy trying to hold in laughter. I give them a polite confused smile. Being a little shit can be really fun I decide. A prefect suddenly yells at the firstie behind me and tells him to get back to his seat. I watch him sit down angrily. "Nice bloke, I feel like I've met him, too bad he didn't introduce himself." I say and Susan and Hannah can't keep it in anymore, both breaking out laughing. Neville chuckling along. Even some of the upper years near us are laughing.

Zacharias almost rises up again, a boy who I believe must be Ernest Macmillan holds him back. I smile innocently at them, before going back to eating. I might never have planned for Hufflepuff, but I'd make sure I could enjoy myself.

I'd figure out the whole war thing eventually. But not today.

I pause, noticing Tonks is still staring at me. The black girl next to her looks if anything even angrier.

Well. If I survive tomorrow.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Authors Note:

Note that magical culture does not work like the muggle one. On fanfiction.net the upcoming chapters were described as absolute torture and psychopathy, perhaps it will here as well.

Magicals do not see injuries or beatings or getting blown up, as anything serious unless you start losing limbs or worse. So take what you read coming up with a grain of salt that this is a separate culture where injuries is a two second spell away from healed. 

Lucas stupid stunt will of course get his ass 'beat' As he deserves for such a crass comment in the place he did it. He'll be smarting for awhile for this. It wasn't overly bad, but the circumstances and who he said it to - a metamorph who no doubt had an 'interesting' time in puberty inflamed some baggage he'll pay for. 

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

I have a backlog of chapters already made, that's why there's such a bevy of chapters being pushed out. Soon I'll be on a more reasonable schedule of every two weeks or thereabouts.

Enjoy!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

If I thought my little crass prank would have no consequences until the next day, I was very mistaken. A cheerful fifth year prefect duo was just gathering up us firsties after the feast, when down swooped a hand and grabbed me by the collar.

"Amelia, Derek, pardon me, but I'll escort this one." The seventh year prefect, Ophelia says sweetly. Iron grip on my collar, as Tonks stands behind her giving me a death glare.

Looking up at Ophelia and feeling slightly nervous, I can't help but notice that her hair; which is done up in a crown on top of her head - with braids falling back down behind her all the way down to her lower back, is covered in little almost invisible butterfly charms. It's beautiful. Funny the things you notice when you're about to die!

"That's not really how it's supposed to be done, Ophelia…" Derek, a very pretty Hufflepuff boy with fluffy brown hair and warm brown eyes says, giving the fuming Tonks a nervous look.

"Yes, definitely, we must follow tradition!" I say, nodding rapidly. Susan and Hannah are both giving me looks easily translated to; take your, lumps, mister. Neville mostly looks confused.

Ophelia smiles pleasantly, yet it feels like I have a great white shark circling above my head, as she slowly speaks, with a lot of teeth on display, "Really? And as a fifth year, new prefect. You know better than me?" She makes a considering sound in her throat, leaning forward slightly, "You're better than me? Is it?"

What the fuck!? Isn't Hufflepuff supposed to be the nice, friendly, duffer house!? I think nervously. Tonks alone was pretty badass, but this girl was giving off serious; I'm going to break your bones - not because I want to hurt you, but because you deserve it - vibes.

Derek might have had the balls to continue and argue, but a quick look behind him showed that the female prefect had much better self preservation instincts and was already halfway out the Great Hall with the rest of the first years.

A quick glance at the professor's table showed that the headmaster and all the heads of houses had already departed the hall.

"But tradition!" I say weakly. As Derek quickly turns on his heels and marches away. Trying to look like he's not escaping. Somewhat ruined by the way he keeps nervously looking back over his shoulder.

"Ophelia… You're still a scary bitch." Tonks says with an appreciative whistle. Coming to stand beside us instead of lurking behind.

Ophelia smirks, "I am aren't I?" She sounds delighted. She starts walking, I'm suddenly very aware that her hand on my collar has some very sharp looking golden coloured nails, very close to my throat.

"Isn't Tonks already going to beat me up tomorrow, is it really necessary to manhandle me today?" I say, having to walk fast to keep up with the girls' longer legs. Especially with Ophelia's grip on my collar. It feels like we've made it two corridors away in the blink of an eye.

"That is Tonks' business." Ophelia says sharply, she looks down at me with fiery cold eyes, a combination I have never seen before. " Tonight, you deal with me!"

"Ehm, Ophelia, don't make the firstie piss himself, he's already going to get his comeuppance." Tonks says suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

"I didn't do anything to you!" I splutter, letting out a gasp as Ophelia pulls me by the collar and pushes me against the wall, one hand right by my throat as she looks down at me, nostrils flaring.

"Ophelia…" Tonks says, sounding worried. Her eyes flickering between her friend and myself.

"You little cretin!" Ophelia hisses at me, I freeze up, what did I do to piss her off? She looks murderous!? I think rapidly, thinking back on when I pranked Tonks. Nothing comes to mind.

Suddenly Ophelia's wand is out and pressed against my cheek. My eyes go wide as I try and look down at it, gulping.

"Ophelia!" Tonks says sharply. Taking a step closer. "You're taking it too far, it was a prank, I'm fine!"

"A prank, just a little prank…" Ophelia scoffs, she glares at me, "Do you have any idea, ANY, idea… The things Tonks had to go through to be taken seriously? To be seen as anything but a girl able to make her tits bigger on command!?" Her wand pushes harder against me.

I'm starting to realize my mistake now. Looking up at the absolutely furious girl that's berating me on Tonks behalf.

Tonks is a metamorph. going through puberty at Hogwarts must have been hell.

"You think coming up to a girl in public, and making a joke like that, is okay?" Ophelia leans down, face to face with me, our noses almost touching. Her golden eyes look at me like I'm pure trash. "In front of her peers, when she's finally accepted as the amazing person she is!" Ophelia growls and the tip of her wand is lighting up,"I have half a mind to…"

She doesn't finish the sentence as suddenly she's pulled off me, Tonks grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away. "Ophelia, enough, he gets it. He didn't know, sweetie."

I am in shock, berating myself. I have treated everything like fun and games, not even pausing to think of how my actions and words would impact the kids around me. I was supposed to be an adult. I had gotten into a fun tit for tat with Tonks, and not even once, I questioned myself on making fun of her like that in front of all of her friends and peers. Being shocked to be in Hufflepuff was no excuse to act out like that. Poking fun at Zacharias was one thing, that's just two brats poking fun. I went up to a girl, still not fully an adult, by my standards, and made a - perhaps only lightly sexual - but still that kind of joke about her, in front of everyone. The people she's lived with for six years.

People that probably at minimum harrassed her about her ability to change into anyone's sexual fantasy. I don't know what worse she could have faced, from how pissed her best friend is? Probably much worse.

Why did I think that was okay? I would have never done that in my previous life - go up to a girl in public and say something like that. Have I despite all my plans, and realizations of how dangerous this world is. Still made the mistake of thinking of the people around me as book characters. I'm surprised no one slapped my disrespectful fucking mouth. If someone had done that to my sister I would have probably broken a leg or two. Hell… She would have beaten me to it! Well ... Maube not broken bones, but there would have been a fight.

I look up at Tonks who's having a whispered argument with Ophelia. "I am so so sorry, I didn't…I-I…I am so stupid, I shouldn't have…I'm sorry, Tonks. I'll never do it again!"

Ophelia snorts, "Typical little boy, thinks a quick apology fixes anything."

Tonks runs a hand through her hair, sighing explosively, "Ophelia, you know I love it when you're a total bitch, but maybe dial it down right now, he's just a firstie muggleborn, he couldn't have known."

I squirm guiltily. But I had known, I am smart enough to figure out what being a pretty metamorphmagus, in what was basically high school would mean. I had still done it. It hadn't been done by malice, I hadn't planned to hurt her, but it doesn't matter if it was intended or not. Just making that joke in public at all was stupid. Especially knowing about her ability.

"Hey, Lucas. Seriously. I'm okay." Tonks says, having squatted down somewhat to get face to face with me, one hand on my shoulder, her eyes compassionate.

This girl was just too nice of a person. I feel something in my throat as I try to speak. "I hurt you." I manage to whisper out. I feel so stupid, why did I do that in public.

"Nah, it was even kind of funny...If it had been private... I was still gonna punch you for it, but I got a thicker skin than that, ickle baby claw." Tonks says softly. She gives me a bop on the nose, "I'm still bloody pissed, but you're okay."

"Seriously? You said scare him, Ophelia, make him wish he didn't come to Hogwarts, Ophelia, and you're going to forgive him just like that?" Ophelia groans, pinching her nose.

Tonks looks over her shoulder, sounding dry as the desert as she chides her friend, "I said scare him, not toss him into a wall, hold him at wand point and make him think you're going to Avada him!"

"You're impossible to please!" Ophelia scoffs, irritatedly.

"I know." Tonks smirks, sounding pleased. Her eyes back on me. "How are you doing ickle claw?"

My brain is finally catching on that Tonks accepted my apologies, that she is okay. I breathe a sigh of internal relief. While looking at her feeling guilty still, muttering. "Not a claw."

She chuckles, patting my head, "Nah, to me you're always definitely going to be a baby claw. C'mon let's go before Sprout has a coronary and takes Ophelia's pretty little badge."

"She can have it, two years already of covering up your messes, I could do without a third, it's NEWTs year." Ophelia smirks, "Maybe she'll give you the badge?"

Tonks rolls her eyes, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the wall, "And Snape is going to propose to you any day now." She teases. "That's more likely than me becoming a prefect!"

I gape as Ophelia blushes slightly, barely noticeable on her dark skin. "Snape!?" I say disbelievingly.

Tonks shrugs, giving me a tiny push as we start walking, "Ophelia has terrible taste."

Ophelia tosses her hair, which incidentally smacks her braids into Tonks face. "Fuck you, Tonks, I have excellent taste." She says haughtily.

"Fawley." Tonks coughs. A wicked smirk on her face. Giving me a wink when I look up at her wondering why she's aggravating the scary lady.

Ophelia blushes again, giving Tonks an irritated look, "Why is this turning into pick on Ophelia? We were supposed to terrorize the firstie…" She complains sulkily.

"You were too good at it, Ophie." Tonks says nonchalantly, as we take the steps down towards the kitchens, and the Hufflepuff dorms nearby.

"If you're going to start calling me Ophie, again, then I'll call you Nymphadora." Ophelia snarks, "You know I hate that nickname."

Tonks shudders exaggeratedly, "Alright, no nicknames and no first name for me. Are you feeling better, Lucas?" She asks me suddenly.

I blink, giving a hesitant nod, not sure of my words at the moment. I need to sit and reevaluate my thought process, and how I managed to go from calm and collected to acting so childishly. Teasing Tonks was one thing, I had stepped way over the line - doing what I did at the opening feast of all things.

"By the way, firstie who's name I don't care about." Ophelia starts speaking to me, ignoring Tonks' exasperated look. "If you mention my nickname, or… Other things about me…" she fingers her wand, staring at me with those piercing golden eyes. "I'll turn you inside out, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." I say quickly.

"Ophelia…" Tonks says wearily. Before shrugging with a wry grin. "Oh well, it's not like he's going to speak about it anyway, right Lucas?"

"Definitely not, she's absolutely terrifying." I say not at all hesitant to admit she scares the crap out of me. No Hufflepuff should be that ready to hex the shit out of an eleven year old.

Ophelia preens, hips swaying as she takes the lead towards the common room. "You know what, he's already growing on me a little."

"You're seriously messed up." Tonks chuckles, but she's smiling at her friend, the mood has improved for now. She looks down at me in thought, a sparkle in her eyes. I don't like that look. No, Tonks, just no. I try to tell her with my eyes.

"You should join me." Tonks offers her friend, who glances back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I was going to use him for target practice anyway, you need more practice for Defense too, right?" Tonks offers cheerfully, ignoring how my head falls. I deserve it, but c'mon!

"What does the firstie feel about that, hmm?" Ophelia glances at me, face unreadable.

"I probably deserve it, but you're scary as hell, so please don't." I say frankly.

She smiles, pleased. "Tonks, I'd be delighted to join you." She chirps.

Does the wizarding world have insurance policies? I think I might need life insurance. I gripe mentally. I stop as we arrive, having walked past the kitchens, coming around the corner to a room filled with thick barrels.

"You'll have to tap them exactly as I show you or you'll be drenched in vinegar, and that would be a terrible shame." Ophelia tells me, stepping forward with her wand, to tap the barrel. Specifically the one two from the bottom, in the middle of the second row. I pay close attention, definitely not wishing to be the duffer that manages to get myself drenched.

The portal to the Hufflepuff common room slides open, the barrels sliding away slowly to reveal the passage. Huh, that's different, I thought it was supposed to be a space to crawl through with the lid flipping open, not this spacious passage. I guess book logic is defeated by the real world common sense of not making students crawl into the common room. I think, eyeing the passage, quickly following Tonks and Ophelia as they enter.

"We're probably going to get detention." Tonks says carelessly.

"A detention because of Nymphadora Tonks, why I've never experienced such a thing." Ophelia drawls sarcastically.

I keep my mouth shut, I hardly need to draw more attention to the fact this is only happening because I pissed both girls off royally. Only Tonks being so nice and Hufflepuffish having her let me off the hook, with a future beating to square us up.

We traveled slightly upwards through an earthy tunnel with vines covering the walls, sometimes forming into the Hufflepuff crest. Flower buds in the ceiling were shining just enough to give enough light to see, and we soon entered through the hallway into the Hufflepuff common room. The first year students waiting on us, with an annoyed looking Professor Sprout. She looked almost exactly like the movie version, maybe a bit younger looking, just like McGonagall.

I looked around the common room, the only Hogwarts common room I never experienced in any game or novel.

The common room has a low ceiling, and was perfectly round and cozy looking, easily large enough to hold all of Hufflepuff house, with the colors yellow and black everywhere. All the woodwork in the common room, including tables, chairs and doors, had this honey color to it that matched very well with the Hufflepuff colored walls. Comfortable arm chairs dotted the room, especially around the large fireplace, its honey coloured wood mantelpiece carved with dancing badgers. A portrait of Helga Hufflepuff hung above the mantelpiece, her cup in hand as if toasting the students of her house. In the middle of the room there was an actual tree, growing out of the floor and into the ceiling, its many branches spreading out across the low ceiling, leaves and flower petals periodically falling down. The tree was hollowed out, and I could spy little reading areas inside. I would wager those were a hot commodity in here, as there couldn't be room in there for more than a couple people, especially if they're seventh years.

I take a deep breath, taking it all in, the smell was divine. You could notice Professor Sprout's hands in the room, or maybe this was always the Hufflepuff way? Plants were everywhere. There were cactii on wooden shelves, curved to fit the wall, that seemed to dance in excitement when you looked their way. From the low ceiling, copper bottomed plant holders hang low, ferns and Ivies reaching down, probably brushing the heads of seventh years with how far down they hang. There's just this awesome scent of life and nature all around me. I love it!

Even the lights in here, enchanted wooden lanterns that seemed to float in the air above us, were covered in vines, with flowers blooming around them. The tables each had a flower pot with beautifully colorful flowers in them, there was even a small fountain opposite from the fireplace, with seats carved into its base, allowing students to sit and study with the sound of running water at their back. Not surprisingly the statue pouring out water into the fountain was a group of badgers. "This is amazing." I can't help but say it out loud.

Tonks ruffles my hair with a grin. "You're a Puff alright." She's looking around the room with clear pride.

This room was clearly the best common room in Hogwarts. The tranquility and peace in here … No wonder Hufflepuffs didn't become dark lords. They were way too zen.

Harry Potter wouldn't have been half the angsty bugger he was if he'd just gotten himself sorted here.

"I'm glad you enjoy it, Mister Greenwood. It's even more amazing to experience it together with your yearmates." Professor Sprout walks up to us, giving me a quick smile, before turning vexed eyes on the two seventh year girls. "Miss Tonks, Miss Onai, do you have an explanation?"

"Tonks did it." Ophelia says, crossing her arms, "As usual."

Tonks grins unrepentantly at her head of house. "Yup, I just needed a quick chat with Lucas. And since Ophelia is a prefect I figured she could supervise, to look after the firstie and all."

"And Mister Greenwood, do you feel that this is how events unfolded?" Professor Sprout looks down at me with a furrowed brow, obviously she didn't believe one sentence of that bullshit.

I'm not a snitch, so there's really only one answer I can give. "Yes, Professor."

"Detention this Saturday, Miss Tonks, for interrupting the first year introduction." Professor Sprout says calmly. She turns and gives Ophelia Onai - and where do I recognize that name from? - a dry look. "As always, thank you Miss Onai, for looking after Miss Tonks."

"It's my lot in life." Ophelia sighs dramatically. Tonks giving her a wink. Ophelia's lips twitching slightly.

Professor Sprout turns to the other firsties, and spots the numerous yawns amongst them, "Well… Off you trot, I'll just send along Mister Greenwood once he's caught up." She decides, instead of making them all stay up later to wait on me. I wave to my friends who all give me a sleepy wave back.

"Since you're both wide awake, you can escort the first years to their dorms." Professor Sprout tells Tonks and Ophelia. Both mutter out a "Yes, Professor," And walk off to do just that. Leaving me alone with the professor.

She gives me another smile, and offers me a seat at one of the ridiculously comfortable arm chairs, sinking into the one across from me. "Dear, if there is anything, anything at all that is going on with Miss Tonks, you needn't worry about telling me." She starts softly. As I thought, she hadn't believed the two of them for a second.

"It really was nothing, professor. I met Tonks before I came to Hogwarts and she just wanted to catch up." I lie.

Professor Sprout nods, I'm not sure whether she believes me, or is just giving up on prodding. "Well, It's a bit late for it, but welcome to Hufflepuff, Mister Greenwood. I am its head of house, Pomona Sprout. I also teach Herbology here at Hogwarts."

"It's nice to meet you, Professor." I say politely. I look around me, "I couldn't even imagine… It's so magical."

Professor Sprout smiles wistfully, "Ah, to see the common room for the first time, it's a favorite memory of all us badgers." She clears her throat, "There are some rules you need to be aware of. Miss Tonks is a delightful young woman, but her adherence to the rules is… Not ideal. I expect that you'll avoid the same mistakes?"

And what can you say to that? Other than, "Yes, Professor."

Professor Sprout nods, with a pleased smile, "Now, Hufflepuff has several house rules, they are always posted on the notice board in the middle of the room." She points, and I can see there's a board attached to the trunk of the tree in the middle of the common room. "However, some rules I'd like you to be aware of, first, boys are not allowed in the girls dormitories. For any reason. The dorms are charmed and I would not suggest testing this. Secondly, we have a mandatory study group by year group once a week. Your prefects will let you know when, and one of them will also lead your study group and be available for assistance."

My immediate despondent thought is; it's going to be Ophelia. One hundred percent it's going to be her. She'll probably volunteer to take on my year group. Why did I have to piss off the scariest lady in the castle on day one?

"While other houses sometimes allow students from other houses into their common room, we do not. This is our students' safe space. No one else will be allowed in, no one not from Hufflepuff has been in here for a thousand years. You will not give anyone else the way into the common room, nor will you bring in a friend. I hope that is very clear, Mister Greenwood?" Professor Sprout asks me, looking intense.

I seriously doubted no one had made their way into the common room in a thousand years. But I saw no reason why I would break the rule anyway. So I nod along, "Yes, professor."

She claps her hands, "Good, anything else your prefects will cover or is up on the notice board. You should get some rest, the stairways to the right hold the boys' dorms, yours will be one of the first two doors."

"One of two?" I ask, wondering how that's come about.

"Hogwarts doesn't seem to like keeping more than four students to a room here in the Hufflepuff dorms, so whenever we get more students in a year, another dorm forms adjacent to the first." Professor Sprout says calmly. "You have six male students in your year, yourself included."

Calmly...Like she didn't just imply Hogwarts has sentience, and preferences. Or am I overthinking again and the founders programmed Hogwarts this way? I need to get to the damn library, my fingers are itching to get their hands on magic books galore.

"Well, off you trot, you need sleep, the prefects will have you up bright and early for breakfast." She claps her hands again, and I jolt out of my library fantasies and get up, "Thank you, Professor." I say politely. "Have a good night."

And then I'm off to my dorm, the stairs are very interesting, because the common room has a very low ceiling. But as I go up the heavy wooden stairs, carvings of badgers and nature across it, vines wrapped around the handlebar. I notice that even though I just went up one set of stairs, now seeing two round dorm doors with the number 1 on them, I can look out from the stairs and see the common room just as it was, as if I haven't gone up at all. I wager if I go up one more landing, there will be dorms with the number 2, and the exact same view, like we haven't gone up a floor at all. Magic was fucking fantastic.

I open the first door, finding a comfy round room, plants around the walls here as well, tiny little windows on the walls showing a view of the outside, four large beds with large quilts on them facing each other from four directions, a writing desk and chair next to them. Three have sleeping students in them, one has a grumpy Zacharias Smith about to climb into bed.

"What do you wa-" he starts, getting all puffed up.

"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced." I interrupt him politely. "My name is Lucas Greenwood, I was just looking for my dorm, which I now realize must be the other one with Neville."

"I know your na-" Zacharias face is twitching and his hands are curled into fists.

"It was nice meeting you for the first time." I give him a small wave and close the door. Chuckling to myself, I totally messed up with Tonks, but it didn't mean I would be an angel, I just needed to not be cruel or a creep. Speaking of, I better get to meditating and figure out what the hell I was doing earlier.

I open the second dorm, finding a similar room, with only two beds and desks, Neville already fast asleep in the one to the left. I notice my trunk is at the foot of my bed, house elf express has efficient service. I think, amused.

As I undress it is only now that I notice that the floor in the dorm is grass! How cool is that? The darkness of the room had made me miss the detail when I poked into the other boys dorm. I wiggle my toes in it, there's no dirt or mud or anything, so I figure magic is the answer. Probably fire proof as well. For obvious reasons. It's comfortable and honestly makes the whole room feel and smell so fresh and free. Despite being almost a Hobbit dwelling underground.

I jump up on my bed, almost melting into it. This was without a doubt the most comfortable bed I have ever felt. I fight against the urge to lay down. Instead sitting on the bed in the lotus position and slowly sinking into meditation. Going over my day, starting at the Leaky Cauldron. As I move across the day, sorting memories and examining them and my emotions, I come to a realization.

In my almost total isolation before, I had easily been able to keep my calm head and cool countenance. I craved companionship however, I knew this. As soon as I started feeling comfortable with the girls on the way to Hogwarts. It's like my emotional walls just crumbled. All those childish wants and desires and feelings that I kept bottled up behind walls throughout the orphanage years just seeped out. I realize now looking over my memory, I had been quite sillier and immediately friendly then what would have been my norm from my old life. I had acted my age. Not my mental one, my body one!

In my old life, most real friendships I made. I made them as a young adult, not as a child. I really only had my parents and my sister before then. I never had the experience of being silly and having fun with a couple mates at this age.

Then the sorting had happened. Going over it again, I am able to see that I wasn't quite as collected about becoming a Hufflepuff as I made myself out to be. I had felt destined to become a Ravenclaw. All tests I've ever taken in my previous life said I was a Ravenclaw. Everyone I met from the magical world told me I would be a Ravenclaw. Seeing it now, I can notice the disappointment and hurt, that the hat ignored my wishes and sent me where I did not want to be. I lashed out, childishly. At someone I knew to be safe to do so to. Tonks. Someone I already had a teasing sort of relationship with. It was not okay. It was childish and spiteful and ridiculous.

I might need to find an Occlumency book… I thought my childish emotions and reactions from having a young body with young biological impulses would be managed by Occlumency. Yet here I had gone and made an ass out of myself just like a spoiled child, because a hat didn't put me where I wanted.

What a bother.

Wait? Wasn't Snape already a decent Occlumens before leaving Hogwarts? That bastard had no emotional control at all! Not at Hogwarts at least. Hell, not even now with how he could fly off the handle at times. Fuck… is this why Occlumency is mostly learned by students already done puberty? The body and hormonal processes make my emotions stronger than my Occlumency can regulate? It's all supposition, I'll have to find a book on it. I'm certainly not asking Snape.

This is why I do this meditation. And why I need those tarot cards eventually. Self reflection really does find all those things about yourself you hide, even from yourself.

I have always known I would be a little troll by the time I entered Hogwarts. And the teasing on the train, and the little game with Smith isn't too bad, all in all.

My version of a tantrum however. Trying to humiliate Tonks in the Great Hall… Yeah I need better control, or at least to acknowledge I still have those childish impulses and not ignore them like they're not there.

I come out of meditation with a silent huff. My sister always used to say that I was the worst person on earth in acknowledging my feelings. Seems I was learning.

I go to bed in the insanely comfortable bed, in the insanely relaxing and charming dorm room. Not feeling too bad about the whole Hufflepuff thing anymore.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

As my habit for years already was to get up early and meditate after my morning rituals, I awoke at 6am, Neville still dead to the world in the other bed. I just lay in bed for a few minutes. Just taking it all in. I was at Hogwarts. Finally, I was here. Not a completely ideal start perhaps, due to ignoring my own feelings until they burst at the most inopportune moment, but I was here. Able to finally really study magic!

I jump out of bed, exhilarating in wiggling my toes in the grass that we had instead of a cold stone floor. I wiggle my fingers at my nightstand, "Accio." Smiling like a loon as my wand flies through the air to smack into my hand.

My morning rituals do not take long now that magic is involved. Even the bathroom being magically tricked out, badger faucets and showerheads of course, the toilet even had little badger feet. Cute.

I finish meditating long before the prefect from yesterday pokes his head in. Raising a surprised eyebrow at seeing me awake. "Wake your mate, all you firsties need to be down in the sett in one hour." He says, before disappearing.

My lips curl in amusement, they really do take this badger thing seriously. I walk over and wake Neville, who blinks slowly at me as if wondering where he was, before yesterday comes into his memories and he sits up, looking around in pleased wonder. "It wasn't a dream." He whispers, holding his quilt tightly in his hands.

"We got to be downstairs in one hour according to the prefect, so you should probably start getting ready." I advise him, patting him on the shoulder, "Good morning, Neville."

He smiles at me, "Good morning, Lucas!" Before scrambling out of bed and somehow managing to catch his foot in the blanket and face planting into the floor.

Well…At least it's grass… I barely hold back a chuckle as I help him up.

I sit down at my desk as Neville rushes about, casually rolling my dice between my fingers as has become habit, while reading over my potions book again. I did not remember what order of classes Harry had, but I wouldn't go into that Potions classroom without being fully prepared.

Eventually Neville is finished with about ten minutes to spare and we head downstairs. The rest of our year group is already sitting down, waiting for us. We exchange a quick smile with Hannah and Susan, before paying attention as the two fifth year prefects stand before us. The few scattered older years sitting around, watching us with amusement. I definitely hear someone whisper; we were never that small were we?

"Alright, you're all on time, good. For the next week, we'll expect you here right on time at 7:30, to walk you to the Great Hall." Derek says with a pleasant smile, looking over all of us with his chest puffed out slightly. "We'll also be walking you to classes for the first one for each class. So try and memorize the route, okay?"

Amelia, a rather plain looking tall girl with strawberry blonde hair, takes over. "If you get lost, try finding the nearest Hufflepuff or a professor to ask for directions, if nothing else, try asking one of the paintings. Most of them are very helpful."

"Do not ask a Slytherin." Derek says firmly, Amelia nodding along immediately. "In fact never go alone anywhere with a Slytherin at all. Consider it…" He pauses, looking for the word. " Unofficial house policy."

"You can always come to us, or to Professor Sprout. She has an office right around the corner from here, and even if she isn't there, you can ask the magical painting at her door to leave a message." Amelia continues on with this obviously practiced speech by the two new prefects.

"If all else fails, any student of Hogwarts can call for assistance and an elf will come and inquire what help you need, do not misuse this, as detention and house points will be the least of your worries if it's not for a serious reason." Amelia finishes with a stern look at us all.

"For those of you who might have missed it yesterday, due to sleepiness." Here Derek gives me a look, "Or other reasons. We are your fifth year prefects." He puffs his chest out more, it makes him look slightly ridiculous, "I'm Derek Court."

Amelia picks it right up, "And I am Amelia Hecat."

They definitely practiced that on the train. I think amusedly. Following along as they walk us to the Great Hall for breakfast. The castle is no less impressive now that daylight shines through the giant glass windows as we exit the dungeons. Every inch of the castle feels ancient and powerful. You can really tell it's been here as long as it has.

As we enter the Great Hall, I notice that the Ravenclaw table is already half full, and I slink to the back of our Puff group, "I'm going to go say hi to Padma and Su." I tell the others.

"Tell them hi from us as well, and that we have to plan that study group too! We'd come along but… Well." Susan says, biting her lip, looking at the prefects.

"We're not you." Hannah giggles, Neville nervously smiling at me as well.

"You don't have to be. I'll be me enough for all of us." I say, waving at them as I turn away and head for where Padma and Su are sitting together. I don't blame them, they're firsties, going and sitting at another table probably feels like rule breaking, although I was fairly certain there wasn't a rule against it. Except for perhaps the welcoming and ending feasts.

"How's my favorite ravens?" I call out as I sink down in a seat next to Su. Padma sitting across from us.

"I'm pretty sure we're the only Raven's you know." Padma says dryly, while holding a cup of… Is that coffee?

Su smiles at me, and offers me a plate of buttered toast. I absentmindedly grab one as I stare at Padma.

"What? Is there something on my face?" She says after a minute, giving me an annoyed look.

"Where did you find something other than that disgusting pumpkin juice!" I ask her, waving my arm and almost hitting Su on the face with the piece of toast.

"...You just ask for another beverage." Padma says slowly, like she can't understand the crisis I was facing.

"You thought Hogwarts only has pumpkin juice?" Su asks me, looking amused. Ducking her head and taking a big bite of toast to try and hide her grin.

"...No." I say, eventually.

"Boys." Padma shakes her head, "I see now why you didn't end up in Ravenclaw, no logic at all." She lightly teases me.

"Hufflepuff is awesome." I say loyally. "Susan and the others say hi by the way, they're just too scared to come over to this table while the prefects are watching over them like proud badger parents."

"Badger parents?" Su wants to know. Padma as well gives me a look; that says dish, girlfriend. I blame my sister for why I know that look by heart. Parvati is probably why Padma knows that look.

"Well look at them," I say waving to the Hufflepuff table. Finally taking a bite out of my toast. How do house elves make even bread taste this good!?

Padma and Su peer over and see what I see. Firsties eating their breakfast, as two fifth years constantly hovers over them, barely eating anything themselves as if they seem afraid a firstie is accidentally going to fall on a butter knife under their watch. It was adorable.

"Not very good badger parents if they haven't noticed they lost you." Padma says dryly, taking a long sip of her coffee.

"They noticed, they keep turning this way every few minutes." Su says quietly.

I help myself to some bacon and eggs, "So how's Ravenclaw? Made anymore friends? Any ideas for when we should set up our study group?" I fire off some questions, while focusing on eating, with table manners this time.

"It's as I expected." Padma says, which really doesn't tell me shit, thanks for being so vivid in detail in your explanations, Padma.

I turn to look at Su, raising an eyebrow questioningly as my mouth is full of eggs.

Su shakes her head, "Ravenclaw seems nice enough, but none of the others seem very interested in making friends."

I swallow my food, pondering who was in Ravenclaw that I could remember. "Who's in your year?" I ask. And I ask Su, because she actually shares, unlike Padma.

"I only remember the last names for the boys," She says apologetically. I wave her on and she continues. "Goldstein, Boot, Corner, Entwhistle, Wildsmith, Takkar, Rookwood and Cornfoot."

"I recognize none of those, cool, go on." I say before taking another mouthful of delicious bacon and eggs. A lie, I definitely recognize Rookwood. Wildsmith too, how couldn't I after all those annoying times Ignatia talked to me in the legacy game…The creator of the floo, and entirely annoying.

Su giggles at me, while Padma snorts, giving me a dry look. "Why did you even ask then?"

"So I know the name of who to beat up if they give you any trouble." I say with a quick smile. Turning back to Su, "So what's the girls' names and why don't they seem like friend material?" I ask shrewdly. One night seemed hardly enough to make that judgment yet both Padma and Su seemed to have done so.

"Mandy Brocklehurst, Augustine Oakes, Lisa Turpin, Morag MacDougal and Lily Moon." Su says, hesitating after, before hunching her shoulders slightly, "And it's just…. A feeling." She mumbles.

"Translate please?" I ask Padma, patting Su on the shoulder as thanks for the information.

Padma sighs, "They haven't said anything, they just clustered together and seem unwilling to include us."

I don't say anything more, it could all be nothing. Or it could be the obvious reason why the two foreign looking girls weren't welcome with the other girls. "Well you have us Puffs! So who needs them, right?" I point out, slinging an arm around Su, making her squeak loudly.

"Indeed. That's my thoughts exactly." Padma says with a small smile. She looks at Su sighing exasperatedly, "Su, you need to breathe."

I let her go instantly, feeling sheepish as a red faced Su takes a couple of quick breaths. "Sorry, Su, I keep forgetting not everyone is as cuddly as me."

"You're a strange boy." Padma says, making me take on an affronted expression. She rolls her eyes, "Most boys don't even want hugs." She points out.

"I am the better, improved version, obviously." I say imperiously, drawing a giggle out of a yet again breathing Su.

"It's alright, I don't mind." She says, before looking away red faced.

I nod decisively, I turn to Padma, "I'm not in Ravenclaw so you'll have to hug Su for me at least twice a day." Su freezes, looking at Padma with a deer in headlights expression.

Padma actually laughs, her shoulders shaking slightly. "You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that?" She manages to get out. She shakes her head, her plait swinging behind her. "That's so sweet, though, don't worry I'll take care of Su."

"I can take care of myself." Su mumbles, looking between us both, like she can't understand how this is what we're discussing right now.

"Of course you can, you're a smart Ravenclaw and everything." I say with a sharp nod, "I'm just ensuring your hug quota is met." I reach out with a fist to Padma and I'm delighted when this pureblood girl fistbumps me, a wry smile on her face.

"You're too silly for this time in the morning." Su sighs, pulling the coffee pot towards herself. Sniffing it experimentally, before jerking back in disgust. "How can you drink that?" She asks Padma with a wrinkled nose.

"With practice." Padma says calmly, taking another deep sip. "If you'd have to deal with Parvati early in the morning, you'd start drinking coffee too."

"Speaking of," I say, seeing said girl enter the Great Hall, scanning the Ravenclaw table for her sister. "I gotta get my schedule back at the Hufflepuff table. Say hi to your sister from me." I valiantly run away, Padma scowling at me, while Su holds back a grin.

I slide into a seat next to Neville, ignoring the long look from the prefect, Amelia. "Pass me a muffin, I'm starving. And is there any tea anywhere?"

"We've got pumpkin juice." Susan says brightly, taking a long sip and then smacking her lips at me, "Delicious!"

"Very funny. Are we even in Britain anymore? How can there be no tea?" I say, aggressively biting into a carrot muffin.

"I think you just ask for it." Neville says, slowly working his way through a bowl of porridge. He also has a cup of devil juice. Who has porridge with pumpkin juice? Wizards are insane!

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot!" I say, peering intently at the table. Making a happy noise when a steaming cup of tea appears, and my pumpkin juice disappears. "I love you magic table."

"It's the house elves." Hannah says, rolling her eyes.

"The what now?" I say, having to pretend some level of cluelessness, because I should not know about that. Not on the brief mention of elves I had gotten from the prefects.

"Magical servants that do all the cooking and cleaning and stuff. I think Hogwarts has hundreds of them." Hannah says with a shrug. Going back to buttering her muffin.

I take a sip of tea, "I love house elves then." I decide, since they make an excellent cup of tea.

"Did you manage to set up a study group meeting with Padma and Su?" Susan asks, tossing her braid behind her, as it almost fell into her eggs.

I take a long sip of tea, the tips of my ears reddening. Ah, that is why I went over there isn't it?

"Oh, Lucas." Susan sighs, shaking her head as Neville snorts into his porridgel. "That was the reason you were supposed to be over there."

"We'll just have to do it, not trust a boy, no offense, Neville." Hannah says, sharing a determined look with Susan.

"Some offense taken." Neville mutters. And I grin at him, so different then the panicky boy I remember from the books already. Just by being around friends.

"Well as my sister always said, girls are always right, and if they're ever wrong then they're extra right, if you wanna keep your teeth." I say wistfully. My sister was the kind of girl who'd fight the world on principle because it was wrong and she was right. And she'd started out so shy as well…

"You have a sister?" Hannah asks, curiously.

I falter a bit, damn, why had I said that. It's from my old life. I wince, "Ah…not…Not anymore." I say softly.

"Oh." Hannah says, biting her lip, she opens her mouth, then seems to be lost for words and just stops. Both Neville and Susan hesitate, seemingly not knowing what to even say to something like that.

I sigh, shaking my head. I really bring the mood down so easily with my big fat mouth. "Don't worry about it, it's happened, nothing I can do about it." I hope she's still okay…. That however I died, she's gotten closure…

I take another sip of tea, nothing fixes you up like a cuppa. "Wait, why is there so many firsties here?" I say peering around us, this whole part of the table is filled with short people.

"You missed most of the sorting." Susan says, before giving me a weird look, "How did you not notice last night? We were all standing there waiting, for you?" She frowns at me, crossing her arms.

"Hey that was… Completely my fault." I sigh. Scratching my head.

"They didn't do anything, did they?" Neville asks, having finished his porridge.

I think back on Ophelia's wand pressed into my cheek, "Not really." I gulp.

"Well, I hope they gave you a talking to, for whatever you did." Hannah says, looking like she's dying to ask.

I go back to my breakfast, definitely not compounding my mistakes by spreading the word of my actions. The upper years probably all know about it by now. We fall into companionable silence as we eat. Shortly after we finish, Professor Sprout comes along with our timetables. As it's the first day they're apparently going slightly easy on us. We don't have a class until ten, double Potions unfortunately. Then we have two afternoon classes in Defense against the dark arts and Herbology. Our two first classes were with the Ravenclaws and our last one was with the Gryffindors.

"Not too bad of a first day." I idly note. With Gryffindor and Slytherin sharing a lot of classes it seems we'll avoid the drama of Potter's, Weasley's and Malfoy's.

"We'll have class with Harry Potter, today!" Hannah says, eyes sparkling.

"The guy looks half terrified to even be here, I don't think he'll appreciate a fangirl." I say, hoping to spare Hannah some headaches, as Harry hardly notices other students at all on a personal level. Certainly not girls.

"He does look kind of small and nervous." Susan says, craning her neck to look over at the Gryffindor table. "Not at all like I thought he'd be like."

"He probably hasn't had it easy." Neville says, looking down at the table. Probably realizing his and Harry's situation isn't too different. If only he knew. Neville at least was raised in a pureblood home, a manor, even if I had serious questions about how his guardian raised him considering the nervous wreck I met on the train.

"I'm not going to bug him, guy has enough on his plate." I say, and reluctantly Hannah and Susan seem to agree. Neville isn't the kind of guy to bug anyone to begin with. Honestly if Harry hadn't been so standoffish about his fame, he would have probably drowned in Hufflepuffs. The dudes loyalty is through the roof. Even to the point of deciding because he met Stan Shunpike once, he couldn't possibly be a bad person and mouth off to the Minister of Magic about it.

Personally I didn't see why anyone would bother imperiusing the bus conductor. But plenty of ways where a lowly bus conductor might join something like the Death Eaters to have power over others.

"Alright we should go grab our potions stuff, and I can quiz you all on the first chapter if you want, I've memorized it." I say, standing up, my fellow Puffs doing the same, until a prefect stops us.

"We're all going together. Once everyone is finished." Derek says, pointedly looking at me, which fair. I've gone away from the group two out of two times now. I look over the other firsties. The only one still eating is Zacharias Smith. He notices me looking over. And starts slowing down, a challenging look in his face. I could apologize. Be the bigger man. Get us all moving.

…

Instead I point at Zacharias, "Is that kid even a Hufflepuff? I've never met him before."

Neville gives me a long suffering look as Susan and Hannah both sigh. Zacharias slowing his eating down to a crawl, glaring at me.

"You're going to be one of those kids aren't you?" Derek the pretty prefect says, rubbing his eyes.

"He is." Neville/Hannah/Susan all reply at the same time. Giving each other looks.

"That's just mean." I say pouting slightly. Before looking over at Zacharias again."Hey, does anyone know that kid? And what is he doing at our table?"

"Greenwood. If you talk again before I drop you off at potions it will be detention and 10 points from Hufflepuff." Derek says sternly. His warm eyes not so warm right now.

Before I can even think to protest, two sets of hands slap over my mouth. Susan and Hannah both having no faith in me. Hurtful, but true. I totally would have made a smart ass comment. Detention and house points do not scare me. The house cup is already a lost cause anyway.

On principle I lick the hand closest to my mouth

"You're disgusting." Susan says, but does not remove her hand. "We're not losing house points on our first day!"

So left with no choice, I spend my time silently watching Zacharias Smith eat. Happy in the knowledge that while he's pissing me off, I already thought he was a dick. Now he's pissing everyone off. So… Mission accomplished?

Sadly there is no potion quiz due to our illegal confinement, leaving us only the time to grab our stuff for the day, before being escorted over to the potions classroom. Derek refuses to let me talk the entire way.

Padma and Su are already waiting outside the classroom with a bunch of the other Ravenclaws standing around looking nervous. Obviously some upper years have tattled about Snape's charming personality.

I wave at them, because Susan is still stubbornly covering my mouth. Which is really impressive because she didn't even twitch when I claimed to need to use the bathroom,

Definitely can tell she's related to a battle axe like Amelia Bones. She just forced Neville to switch with her for the bathroom. And I can now cross off one item on the bucket list; peeing with another dude holding his hand over my mouth.

"What did he do?" Padma sighs, "We haven't even had one class yet."

"He opened his mouth." Neville says sarcastically. And I want to go over and fist bump him, that's my little Gryffindor-Hufflepuff. Helping a guy pee, and sarcasm. It's like he's a totally different guy from the books just by having people pay attention to him and be his friends.

"Right, you're here, I'll leave now, behave in Professor Snape's class…" Derek makes sure to look straight at me, like I would ever mess around in Snape's class, that's just begging for seven years of misery. "Amelia will come pick you up and take you to lunch and your first afternoon class afterwards."

When I point at Susan's hand over my mouth, Derek rolls his eyes but gives Susan a nod. The redhead grimacing as she removes her hand, rubbing it against her robe, giving me a dirty look. What can I say, one last lick for the road?

"Thank you for taking your time in your OWL year to show us around, it really helps us out." Bowing my head slightly with a smile. My words make a smattering of thank you's ring out from my fellow Puffs.

Derek scoffs, cheeks a little pink, "It's nothing, we Puffs take care of our own." He says, but quickly leaves looking a little embarrassed to be praised.

"You… Are so contrary!" Susan exclaims, hands up in the air.

Who? Me? I point at myself with a confused smile.

"Ugghh!" Susan just says out loud. Turning to her best friend with a pleading look.

Hannah giggles, patting Susan on her arm. "She means that you just were so nice to Derek, after being a little… you-know-what."

I shrug, "I'm here to have fun and study. Just because I have a little fun doesn't mean I can't show respect for someone helping us out, or be polite when I need to be." I run a hand through my hair idly as I explain, "House points doesn't matter to me, who cares really that someone gets to have some banners for half an hour after sucking up for a year."

"I've never met anyone that thinks like you." Padma says bluntly, Su nodding with her with a weird look on her face.

"You'll get detentions." Su says quietly. Ah, she's worried for me. Cute.

"So?" I say with a raised eyebrow. Everyone gives me shocked looks. Oh the worries and problems of eleven year olds. "An hour or two of lines, or cleaning? Not really the end of the world, and I'm not going to miss out on having fun for a minor inconvenience."

Neville looks like he's just realized what he's gotten into, joining me in Hufflepuff. "We're going to get into trouble a lot, aren't we?" He sounds so resigned, it's cute.

"I prefer to see it as we're going to experience a lot more than a regular student." I say cheerfully.

"If you disrupt class, I'll hex you." Padma says, sounding fully serious. Susan nods along. Hannah, Neville and Su are much sweeter people, so they don't.

"I intend to be the best student Hogwarts has ever seen, so I can't be messing around in class." I say seriously, studying magic is not a thing I'll mess with.

There's some loud scoffs from the peanut gallery of other Ravenclaws who have nothing better to do then listen in. We all ignore them. My friends look pleased and shocked at my seriousness. Considering we're about to have Potions, I make my move to limit any problems with Snape.

"Padma, can you partner with Neville? I'll take Su, and Hannah and Susan can do their best friend forever thing." I say quickly.

Susan and Hannah both roll their eyes with perfect synchronization again, my point exactly, I think smugly.

"I don't mind," Padma says slowly, giving Neville a quick scrutinizing look, "But why?"

"If we have a raven and a puff sitting together from the start, we might be able to pull off partnering all over the place later, but I have a feeling if we're all sitting by house, there won't be any chance to switch after," I explain, before giving Neville an apologetic look, "Also you're strong in potions, while Neville is a bit jumpy, and Snape has a reputation. So you'll learn more, getting to help and teach Neville. And Neville will benefit from a calm pretty girl next to him." A compliment never hurts when trying to manipulate someone after all.

"Alright. I don't see why not." Padma says after a moment of thought. She gives Neville a small smile, "I'm sure Professor Snape isn't that bad." She assures him. Neville gives her a weak smile back.

Inwardly I do cartwheels. It might be slightly selfish of me to manipulate my friends like this. But I honestly have no idea if Neville is a disaster because of Snape only, or just clumsy and nervous in general. I do not want my potions grade to suffer from being partners with Neville, which is what would happen if I didn't get Padma or Su to do it. There's also the likelihood of Neville blowing a potion up in my face. So no thank you. Padma, your possible sacrifice is appreciated. Of course, Padma being a smart and collected young girl might just be able to make sure Neville does alright. So it might actually work out. Potions is a really hard subject, so I kind of don't hold much hope for Neville really.

I smile at Su, "Partners then, I look forward to working with you." I give her the fist bump, and she hesitantly reaches out with her small fist and just barely touches mine. So cute.

The door suddenly opens. Some of the other Hufflepuffs squeak in fright, which is just embarrassing. Thank Merlin there aren't any Slytherins in sight.

We all troop in, Padma grabbing Neville's sleeve to pull him with her. I am surprised to see Snape sitting at his desk. Maybe dramatic entrances are only for the chosen one then. As I had hoped, Snape doesn't seem to care who sits with who, with no Slytherins or Gryffindors around.

The potions classroom is dark and damp, the walls have a green shimmering tint that glints from the limited above lighting. Shadows cast all over the corners of the room. The only well lit areas being right above each workbench and desk, and above the blackboard behind Snape's ornate Slytherin themed desk.

Shelves line the walls to either side of Snape's desk, there's also a small curved nook behind him to his left with more shelving as well as two large wooden cupboards, the wood almost black, two brass knobs for handles, with reliefs of snakes on them. The cupboards no doubt for those ingredients that need to be spared from light. All the shelves have green tinted glass mason jars on them with ingredients, plants, or more gruesome looking parts. Yet for all this the smell of the room is almost sterile, no doubt there are a mass of charms and wards laid around this room.

I manage to grab a spot at the front with Su, eager to get started. Potions was quintessential magic, you look at any fantasy or magic story, dungeons or dragons or MMORPGs. Potions and draughts and alchemical concoctions were all over the place. It's much more than just putting a recipe together. I had seen fanfiction which likened it to cooking of all things. That couldn't be further from the truth, although if all Snape does is put a recipe on the board I can understand the support for that theory. And it would also explain why everyone sucks at potions in the books. Except Hermione, who's meticulousness in ingredient preparation probably makes up for her rigid mind.

Potions, while not regularly needing a wand, was utilizing magic constantly. Just in a different manner. Potions at the highest levels requires deep knowledge of Arithmancy and Astronomy to go with Herbology and Potions, due to the effects potions could absorb from the literal stars, and how insane was that? All ingredients used in potions could have different effects based on such minor things as how you cut them, crushed them, squeezed them. If you mangled one ingredient it would affect the entire potion, and possibly ruin it. Unless you were someone like Snape who could immediately counter the bad ingredient with its perfect counteragent. Some potions needed to spend time in sunlight, some needed absolute darkness. Some were sensitive to sound!

You needed to stir the potions differently depending on what you wanted out of it, needed different kinds of cauldrons for different potions at higher levels of brewing, some ingredients did not have their full effect unless picked under a full moon, or harvested in the proper celestial alignment. Some ingredients could only be harvested by a witch! Others were so sensitive to magic only a squib could harvest them. And if you wanted to be truly good at potions, you needed to know every intimate detail about these ingredients.

Some potions literally would not brew properly unless the witch or wizard brewing it were in a calm state for the brewing process. Others could only be brewed if you were enraged! There were potions that needed music played during brewing, others needed total utter silence. Honestly I wanted to see Snape brewing while an orchestra played in the background. I'd pay to see that.

It was utterly fascinating and difficult and exactly the kind of magical subject I found exciting. I could honestly understand why people like Neville and Ron could not make heads or tails of the subject. It requires a lot of memorization, meticulous ingredient preparation and brewing discipline as well as a flexible mind, it was not at all just following a recipe. Honestly Hermione being able to brew Polyjuice in second year makes sense now, as her personality and OCD about doing things the proper way fits well with some types of potions. Most of them. Hermione probably was not mentally flexible enough to become a master the caliber of Snape. I just couldn't see Hermione keeping herself in a simmering rage while brewing because it was part of the process.

I almost vibrate with excitement as Snape slowly stands up and walks in front of his desk. Is he going to do the speech?

Professor Snape looks menacing standing in front of us, every first year sitting silently, barely daring to breathe. Slowly he drawls, "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making…"

He starts pacing slowly in front of his desk, dark eyes piercing us one by one, "For those… Very select few…Who possess, the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…"

He stops pacing, glaring at us, "Potions is a deadly art, I will not have any foolishness in my class, ever, or I will have you expelled." He sneers darkly, "I will not tell you again, be prepared, be attentive, never deviate from my instructions." He looks us over, before snapping impatiently, "Well, why aren't you writing this down?"

We all scramble for our quills and parchment as Professor Snape spends the entire lesson going over every minutia of Potions safety. First in a lecture that takes half the class, making us write down every single safety precaution around potion-making - There is a lot - Then by making us practice slicing ingredients, teaching us how to use the mortar and pestle properly. Then teaching us how to properly clean all the equipment we just used, including our cutting boards. To ensure there would remain no residue whatsoever that could cause volatility in our potions the next time we use our equipment. Of course all followed by explicit threats of what would happen to any dunderhead dumb enough to show up to his class with dirty equipment.

As the class finishes up, Snape orders us to have at least 10 inches on proper potions safety procedures ready to hand in for our next lesson. And that not a single potion would be brewed until we all could manage this basic step to an acceptable level.

I leave Potions feeling slightly mind-blown. Again I wonder. Am I in an alternate universe? Or simply, is the world more real than in a book, where most everything ends up cut out to make room for the drama and adventure. Professor Snape was certainly still an asshole, as I could attest from my shopping trip, and the snarling, sneering cold man in that classroom would surely be making students cry at some point. Yet his lesson was not - It's on the board so get to it, while hovering over us. We wouldn't even be making potions for weeks yet!

I was suddenly worried about the plot. If the adults were suddenly going to be competent, the Harry Potter books would all be very different. I did not like the idea of the predictability of the next few years disappearing. Maybe this all happened in the books too? We just don't see the boring details as it's focused on Harry and Snape hating each other. Competence dumbed down as to give the protagonist more reason to intervene?

I make small talk with my friends as the female Hufflepuff prefect escorts us back to the Great Hall for lunch, our late morning start to classes already leaving us at past noon. A study group meeting or an excuse for us all to hang out to be honest, is set for the first weekend. For now, in the library. Until we can find somewhere better. I idly wonder if I can find one of the many hidden rooms by then and use it as our study room. I eventually will need to utilize the room of requirement, so I won't be sharing that with my friends, a secret isn't a secret anymore once two people know.

I enjoy a small lunch, just chatting with my friends, having easily convinced Padma and Su to sit with us. None of the other Hufflepuffs even blink at the ravens amongst us. Susan rolls her eyes when I smugly tell her that only she's a scaredy cat about going to other tables.

Soon enough we're once again picked up by Amelia, and escorted, this time to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom.

We all troop in, Quirrel with that ridiculous turban, sitting lazily at his desk. As soon as we're all seated, he gets up. I mentally prepare myself for a year of a very annoying class. I'm somewhat thrown however by the look of the room.

There is the desk area, with a blackboard, Quirrell's desk and us students. Yet there's a large area behind the desks, a shielded dueling platform. I can see the shimmer of the shield easily from the door, it must be a pretty powerful shield. I wonder if it runs on Hogwarts power? Further back from the dueling platform are rows of target dummies, stacked up, ready for use. Several cupboards, lined up against the back wall, are shaking, like they hold something that wants to get out. They look new, probably brought in by Quirrell.

All around the room on the walls are paintings of different dangerous beasts, I eye the werewolf one with a grimace. If that is how one looks coming at you, no wonder wizards are terrified of them. Yet also on the paintings are what must be an Inferi, one of the living dead, raised by dark magic. And what the fuck… One painting has a muggle military unit with automatic weapons… is he… Comparing muggles to Inferi and Werewolves?

"Welcome students to Defence against the Dark Arts." Professor Quirrell says calmly, with a half lidded gaze, watching us all. Radiating a lazy confidence.

Where the fuck is his stutter!?

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Author notes:

As said previously, this is not a world of idiots. Neither Hogwarts, the Death Eaters, or the Ministry is entirely incompetent. Or to be frank, in a world such as this. Harry Potter stands a snowball's chance in hell of winning if it's attempted the 'canon' way.

Obviously things in the war and at Hogwarts pre war did not go exactly like canon either. Although Voldemort still managed to get blown up by a baby, ending the war. 

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

A note,

This is not like your regular canon. Dumbledore the Death Eaters and the Ministry do not completely behave the same way. That does not mean that no mistakes are ever made, or that no one ever fucks up. They're more competent, not omnipotent.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

I have a backlog of chapters already made, that's why there's such a bevy of chapters being pushed out. Soon I'll be on a more reasonable schedule of every two weeks or thereabouts.

Enjoy!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Quirrel stands at the front of his desk, facing us, a confident lazy expression on his face. I forcibly calm myself. I can't freak out now. Freak later!

"My name is Quirinus Quirrell, I will be your instructor in this class." He pauses, hands behind his back as he looks over us all. "Defense against the Dark Arts, is somewhat of a misnomer. Can anyone tell me why?"

The class is silent, eventually I raise my hand. Quirrell quirks his eyebrow, pondering, "Ah, Mister Greenwood, our history expert." He drawls, mirthlessly. "Do enlighten us."

"It's a misnomer because defense will also teach us how to defend from beasts and other threats that do not necessarily have anything to do with the dark arts." I say, hesitantly, realizing Quirrell knew who I was. I soldiered on, determined to not let the man know how unnerved I was right now, "In fact, the majority of the subject is not actually about defending against dark arts at all."

"Simple, but essentially correct." Quirrell says, thin lips drawn into a smirk. "Take five points for Hufflepuff."

He draws his wand and without a noise or sign of effort, his desk explodes into thousands of wooden shards that fly to impale him, and us. With another wordless gesture a shield protects us all, as the students around me shriek in shock and fear. I stare at a jagged piece of wood that had bounced off 3 inches ahead of me, poised to take me right in the eye, my gut clenches.

Quirrell quirks his eyebrows in obvious amusement. Another wave of his wand silently repairs his desk. "Something as simple as an object being thrown your way, a lightning strike shattering a tree and showering you in shards, or a common muggle attacking you. Defense, is and always will be, the one subject that will always be needed and always useful to you, for the rest of your lives."

We all sit in silence, some of my fellow Puffs still breathing heavy from the sudden shock explosion. This was nothing like any of us would have imagined this class to start like.

"The likelihood you'll encounter the dark arts is minimal," He continues with a dark look on his face. "The ministry has all but eradicated such practitioners." He purses his thin lips, "No… What you will learn from me, is the mindset behind defending yourself."

One of the Ravenclaw boys raises his hand tentatively.

Quirrell eyes him darkly, "I wager you're about to ask me about the spells covered in your textbook, Mister Boot?" He drawls condescendingly.

Boot lowers his hand, gaping. "Y-yes sir!"

Quirrell picks up Susan's copy of the textbook. "I will not be teaching this. It will be up to you, yourselves to practice the spells in this book to proficiency." He slams the book down, making Susan jump slightly. "I will be teaching you how and when to use them."

He points his wand against the blackboard and dates are scrawled onto it, a spell corresponding to the end of the week of each one. "Anyone that shows up to my class and is not capable of the spell for that week, will serve detention until they are caught up." His thin malicious smirk widens at the exclaims of dismay from some of the students.

"A-aren't Y-you supposed to te-teach us?" One of the Hufflepuffs who's name I hadn't learnt yet stutters.

"Anyone that can not learn the spells in this book is not worth my time to instruct." Quirrell says dismissively. "I will be teaching you useful things, including some spells that might save your life one day." He scoffs, "Those of you capable, anyway."

"Are you capable of thought? Of intelligence?" He drawls, pacing in front of us. "Of adaptation, of strength of will. Of sacrifice?" He stops in front of my desk, "Why? Mister Greenwood, are you not writing down the dates on the board yet? Do they not teach muggles how to write?"

I gape at him in surprise, why the fuck is he singling me out? I grab my supplies to start writing down the information. Biting my lip to keep from saying anything that will get me into trouble.

"No matter, I expected this kind of sluggishness from first year students, barely able to fight off a light breeze, a muggle could take you out without much effort." Quirrell taps his wand on my desk, the shocked gasps of my fellow students telling me they also had a sheet with all the dates and spells on them appear on their desks. Did he disillusion them and just reveal them, or did he just conjure them? I wonder.

Quirrell turns back to his desk, striding over gracefully. Before sliding into his chair, looking at us over steepled pale fingers. "For your first lesson. Write down all the dangers a muggle could pose to a young witch or wizard that you can think of. We will discuss how utterly wrong you are and how much worse it can get after you turn your parchments in. You have fifteen minutes."

What the hell is going on? Where is the stutter? The smell of garlic? The pathetic lessons with a seemingly weak willed moron? I think furiously as I begin to write. I don't dare to play dumb, he'd call me out on it, and I unfortunately know many ways a muggle can hurt a wizarding child. Does Dumbledore know Quirrell is pulling this shit? Does he care? He never did anything about the stuttering Quirrell. I was at a loss. Did this Quirrell not become Voldemort's servant? Then why the muggle fixation? He used to be the damn muggle studies teacher. What's his play here?

As soon as the fifteen minutes are up, our parchments fly over to Quirrell's desk, the professor tapping the pile with his wand. Red ominous light shining through the stack as red burning words slowly peel away from the parchments and fly up on the blackboard. I warily note that a majority of the ways a muggle could hurt someone up there seem to be in my handwriting. The other children barely contributed.

Quirrell smirks, "Ah…" He exclaims softly, so quiet we can barely hear him, "Of course Mister Greenwood would be an expert in how dangerous muggles are."

Eyes in the class turn to me as I stare ahead stone faced, that's how this is going to be, damn. This was not going to be a fun class.

"Tell the class, Mister Greenwood…" Quirrell walks over to me, the only sound other than his sibilant voice, the quiet steps of his feet. "If the muggles were to drop an atomic weapon on Hogwarts, what would happen?"

I squirm in my seat. "Well, I don't rightly know, sir. I have no idea what protections Hogwarts has against a bomb." I say evasively. Not meeting his eyes.

"The wizarding world has no protection other than to hide, from the likes of a muggle weapon of such magnitude." Quirrell says thinly. "Don't be shy, Mister Greenwood, you have had no compunction about expressing your opinion before."

The Merlin damned article…. Is that why he's picking on me? Or is being muggleborn enough? I think, shoulders sagging as I realize that there's no way this ends in any other way than Quirrell getting his way.

"If they were - which they won't - Then Hogwarts and all of the people in it would die." I say with grit teeth.

"It seems Mister Greenwood is not too knowledgeable despite his unfortunate… Heritage…" Quirrell drawls, stepping away from my desk, facing the rest of the uncomfortable students. "He forgot to mention that the muggles already eradicated two whole cities of their own people this way!" Quirrell cold thin lips twitch as the purebloods of the class and most half-bloods gasp in shock. "He also forgot to mention that the muggles ensured this weapon would sicken the land for generations, ensuring Hogwarts could not be rebuilt, if they turned their murderous eyes here."

"It begs the question… Are you a wizard? Or a muggle? Mister Greenwood?" Quirrell purrs.

"I'm a wizard!" I grit out, nails digging into my palms. This is so much worse than anything I imagined for this class.

Quirrell smiles mysteriously, "Perhaps, you did indeed manage to fill out most threats a muggle could pose." His wand snaps out and several words are highlighted. "This in part will be what your classes for the year will be on. How to defend yourself. Not only from another wand or a minor beast. But from the abhorrent practices of a larger beast - the muggle."

He paces in front of the class, hands behind his back. "What not many in the wizarding world knows is that muggles, in their greed and cruelty, have slowly been poisoning the planet." He nods as some shocked gasps ring out, "Yes…" He hisses, a dark look on his face, "Nature itself is striking back, paying no difference between muggle and wizard, natural disasters increasing and ruining our homes, our oceans are being befouled. Ruined. Our drinking water will eventually suffer the same fate if nothing is done. The muggle is ensuring the wizarding world will suffer. This is the threat most magicals will never realize that they face!"

I can see the shock and disagreement on my friends' faces, they know better, thank Merlin, then accepting this anti-muggle propaganda. Yet there are too many students in this room, listening avidly.

Quirrell's voice practically thrums with power as he continues lecturing. "Muggles have many diseases running through their kind, diluting their minds to beasts like none other, some even practice reprehensible acts like cannibalism, the muggles continuously murder each other at a prodigious rate, more muggles die each year to their own kind, then there are magical people in the world. Yet still they continue in their savage ways, never once stopping and considering something better."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. It's not, most of it, factually wrong really… From a certain point of view. But put in the worst light possible to shock and scare the magical world. Dumbledore can't possibly allow this?

"The worst is the muggles' preferences for children." Quirrell continues voice lower, darker. His gaze on me as the highlighted word becomes the only word on the blackboard.

"Their dark and evil propensity to rape their own children and others. This is done to thousands each year, other muggles standing by and allowing it. They even have support groups defending the practice."

"Stop!" I snap out. "Professor, you're twisting everything to the worst possible interpretation, and you're scaring my friends!" I hadn't planned to speak out. But the absolutely sickened and scared expressions coming over some of my friends' faces the further Quirrell goes on, I can't keep quiet any longer. Not if he was going to get worse then he already was. Merlin and Morgana what worse level is he going to go to?

I can hear sobs from somewhere in the back for Merlin's sake! "This isn't right!" I insist. Glaring at him defiantly. Part of me still insists I back down and is screaming; what are you doing you stupid Gryffindor!

Quirrell raises a sardonic eyebrow, "Defending your friends is admirable, Mister Greenwood, yet how you do so is also important." He taps his wand against his leg, "Disrespecting your betters is not a proper method. Detention. Saturday, at seven."

"You're wrong about muggles. They aren't all like that. Every society has bad apples." I insist. Not backing down. Finding some strength inside me to meet Quirrell's dark gaze.

He sighs, mockingly shaking his head, "I had some small measure of hope for you, but it seems you're hopelessly naive, after all. Do let go of your muggle ways soon, Mister Greenwood." He smiles, thin lipped, "We wouldn't want you to devolve into a beast, it would be such a shame…"

He ignores my seething form and turns back to the class. "Until the class is finished today, spend your time reading your first two chapters of the textbook, I expect at least ten inches on what spells would be best suited to defend against a muggle by next class. And don't forget to practice your spells by the due dates."

He calmly sits back down at his desk, peering at us with that smug thin smirk on his face. The entire class slowly opens their textbooks and starts on their assignment. Neville and Hannah, as the two sitting closest next to me, give me worried looks as I simply stare down at my desk.

This is worse than canon. I don't know if he is a Voldemort puppet or not, but as a teacher at Hogwarts, a lot of students are going to believe this shit! I think furiously. Wondering if going to Dumbledore would do anything. Surely he's aware of what's going on? What if he's allowing it? I think with dread pooling in my stomach.

When the class is over, I am the first out the door, speeding past a surprised prefect waiting to take us to the next class. I wait a hallway down, taking deep slow breaths. Gathering myself again. I hadn't expected that.

"Lucas, are you okay?" Susan says timidly. Hannah and Neville behind her, eying me worriedly.

They've run off after me, I'm such a bad influence. I close my eyes as I lean my head against the cool stone wall. "I just wasn't expecting it. I knew being a muggleborn would be…Difficult." I breathe out quietly. I chuckle weakly, "From a professor..."

"He's wrong. And he was cruel about it too!" Susan says firmly, her bottom lip a bit wobbly.

"We all know he wasn't really telling the truth." Neville says quietly, "I don't even know much about muggles, and I could tell."

"If he's telling every class the same thing… How many won't know better." I whisper, head still leaning against the wall. And I had detention with him. This new scarier Quirrell.

"He'll get into trouble with the Headmaster for this." Hannah nods, but she looks unsure.

"Hey, Greenwood. Show me your hands." Amelia Hecat comes striding down the hallway, a trail of Puffs following behind her. I glance at her from the corner of my eye. Frowning.

"I've been told what happened in class. I will be telling Professor Sprout about that man, the nerve!" She huffs, she looks me over, "Finch-Fletchley told me he noticed you were bleeding. Show me your hands."

I notice for the first time that my fists are still clenched hard, I unclench them, my friends gasping as I show bloody palms, where my nails had ripped into them. No wonder Justin paid attention, he would have, just as me, been incensed with Quirrell's words. I wince, Merlin, how will Hermione and Harry take that lesson?

"Merlin, Greenwood, you should have come to me instead of running off." Amelia scolds, but gently, as she looks at me with concern. Her wand quickly runs over my wounds sealing them up. "There, all better, do you think you're up for Herbology, Greenwood? Sprout would understand if you need a breather in the common room instead."

I shake my head, I'm definitely not missing a class. "I'm fine, just... Shocked. I think."

Amelia nods, sighing. "Anyone would be, tell me immediately if you need a break though, okay?" Seeing my stubborn look she turns to my friends. "If he looks like he needs a break tell me or Derek, alright?"

Recovering three determined nods, she gets us all moving, heading out to the greenhouses. We still have some thirty minutes until our class. But with the size of Hogwarts it really isn't as quick as you would think to get around. We arrive with ten minutes to spare. Amelia stops us from heading inside, going in by herself. No doubt to speak with Professor Sprout.

The Gryffindors arrive minutes later, I barely pay them any notice.

When we're allowed inside, I immediately join Neville, I'd have to be stupid not to partner with someone that had an obvious skill and interest in the subject. I glance around, the greenhouse looks not that dissimilar from a muggle one. Only with more interesting plants. Sections of the greenhouse have the glass panels in the roof and walls in different colors to provide a different light, including some darker areas where the glass was pitch black and not letting light in at all.

There was a constant sense of being watched, plants hanging over us and around our work area, seemingly sheltering us, as if plants further in were watching us. It was fairly creepy. Only Neville and Hannah seemed at home, the other students periodically looking over their shoulders uneasily.

One of the Hufflepuff girls screamed, shaky hand pointing to her left, the whole class turning and looking at what appeared to be a large Venus flytrap like plant, the plant turning our way, the bud opening, revealing razor sharp teeth as it grins at us, a long tongue licking the edge of its bulb, where lips would be on a human mouth.

"None of that now." Professor Sprout says sternly, the plant shying back looking like a chastised puppy. Even managing to whine pitifully. She turns to us and smiles cheerfully. "Not to worry students, he just nibbles a little, he's never fully eaten a student."

I'm sure I'm not the only one who is kind of stuck on the fully, of that sentence. A lot of apprehensive faces looking back at the Herbology Professor.

"For those of you who don't know me, I am Professor Pomona Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff house and your teacher in the wonderful world of Herbology." As she talks, she walks away from the man eating plant which as soon as her back is turned turns to us students again and sticks its tongue out. "The subject is not only important for any future potion-makers or healers, it's vital for all wizards and witches." She continues, reaching the front of the class.

"Can anyone tell me why?" She asks, with a kind smile.

Neville and Hannah both have their hands up, so does another of the Hufflepuff girls and one of the Gryffindor boys, Rath I think his name is.

"Mr. Longbottom?" Sprout calls on Neville to answer.

Nevilles round cheeks are slightly pink at being the center of attention, but his eyes are practically sparking in excitement from being in this greenhouse, "Because we're all likely to encounter magical plant life during our lives, even if we don't keep a garden or wander a meadow or forest, wizarding homes tend to attract magical plant life and we would have to know what is safe and what is not, and how to handle it."

Professor Sprout claps her hands together, "I couldn't have said it better myself, Mr Longbottom, take five points for Hufflepuff."

Neville blushes brightly and I pat him on the shoulder, it's good to encourage him when he's doing well. I don't want to see the sad lonely kid make a comeback.

Professor Sprout speaks again and I turn to pay attention. "Herbology is one of the core subjects for a reason. No matter where you go in the world. If there is magic, you're likely to find some sort of plant life. Much of it if not dangerous, then at least unsafe, if improperly handled." She waves a hand towards the mass of plant life behind her. "This greenhouse is fairly safe, you won't see the other two until fourth year for one, and seventh year for the second." Her kind face turns serious, "It is that dangerous that you need to be at that level at minimum to enter. With a professor nearby." She gives us a stern look, "At no point are you ever to enter a greenhouse alone, or without me or another professor's presence. Magical flora is dangerous!" She hammers home.

As with Potions, the rest of the lesson turns into an extensive lecture on safety precautions, there are a lot of them. My decision to partner with Neville seems a wise one, even more than I had expected before. I had done it to ensure I could get a good grade in a subject I couldn't practice on my own in to get ahead. Now it seems I'd need his help to not get eaten, burned, dissolved, put in a magical coma for a month. Or any of the other numerous things this greenhouse could cause. I didn't even want to imagine what the seventh year one was capable of.

And again we were told to do ten inches of homework. Irregardless of the oddity of doing essays based on inches of parchment, ten inches wasn't that horrible. But when you started getting that and more from every class… No wonder students go a little nuts in later years. I imagine I'll have disturbingly little free time if every class starts ordering me to churn out twenty inch or longer homework assignments after every class.

Professor Sprout calls my name as the class all starts to head for the doors. Well… Once again everyone will be waiting due to me, I'm starting to notice a pattern here. Even Harry as the protagonist at least made it a couple days without trouble now and then. Not so much me so far. Worst of all it's all self-inflicted.

"Are you feeling alright, Mister Greenwood?" Professor Sprout asks, eyes filled with concern. "Miss Hecat told me about your…" She purses her lips angrily. " Lesson!"

I shrug, not sure what to say. What do you even say? Can I please have a non racist teacher? Hogwarts has enough problems finding teachers that aren't literally out to murder someone in the student population. Also technically he's not really saying anything that the Ministry or Wizengamot necessarily disagree with either. If anything he'd get a slap on the wrist for using slurs and that would be it.

"If things…Persist... Feel free to come to see me for a chat, I'm afraid I can't stop the man, although rest assured I will speak to the Headmaster about this!" Professor Sprout assures me seriously.

I thank her quietly and leave, not really sure why anyone bothered to tell her. Sprout basically told me she can be a shoulder to cry on when it happens again because she can't do shit about it, the uselessness of heads of houses still following canon I suppose. Whatever reason there is for it. She can't do anything, and her only avenue is to ask the Headmaster to step in. Which… When has he ever? He didn't even step in when his students were literally being tortured. There's no way, no painting, no house elf, no professor, that no one noticed, that not a single student reported it to a prefect or head of house. No, every muggleborn in the castle was going to have to spend the year hearing how much of a disease their families and neighbors were to the planet and to wizardkind.

I'm not sure what happened to canon but I really fucking want it back.

My friends all hover around me for the trek to dinner. Padma and Su join us at our table immediately upon spotting us. Drawing a smile out of me when tiny little Su goes on a rant about how professor Quirrell should be fired and has no business being a teacher.

I doubt he would be fired. Or even reined in. No one wanted the job, so it would take trying to murder a student to force Dumbledore or the board into action. As long as Quirrell only kept it to words, especially ones that he could point to being fact based. There would be no consequences. Also very likely… The contract for the defense position was probably pretty liberal on what the professor could and could not do, considering the dearth of applicants I doubted it was a very stringent contract on behavior. They couldn't lose a professor just because he went loony could they? He had to last the year, after all.

I had other things to worry about. It's only the first day and my wish to stay away from the plot is slowly crumbling away. Not as I thought would possibly eventually happen, because of bonds and the power of friendship like the hat wanted. Instead it's because the adults seem more competent than they had been in the books. And a more competent Quirrell, facing a Harry Potter that squeaked by within an inch of death every year. Could I really count on that? Would this Quirrell even be possessed? Because Harry didn't stand a chance against the wizard that I had seen in that classroom. Not without being able to burn him to death at a touch.

I couldn't go to Dumbledore. Even if he believed me… The man would wait until the last moment. Not wanting to sacrifice Harry if there was some other way. And if I told him everything. Would he be able to resist the ring? He hadn't been able to when he knew a war was on his doorstep and he would be leaving everyone defenseless. Now in peace, could he hold himself back? I wasn't sure. And I wasn't gambling with the entire wizarding world on a guess.

Also I didn't trust him. Not because I thought he was the fanon evil manipulator. No… Because he was willing to sacrifice as many innocents as he could as long as he got to keep his hands clean. Dumbledore had the power to eradicate every death eater he met on the field of battle. He could have easily wiped out known death eaters outside of it too, laws be damned, and then hailed for it in the aftermath. Instead he sat and watched as families were wiped out, muggles were tortured, raped and murdered. And he gathered a small band of hobbyists plus Moody to fight for him. Ensuring they'd die while he sat and sipped tea and showed Harry some funny memories. And then he couldn't even stay alive for the war to be the deterrent against Voldemort and completely left his followers to hang. He wasn't willing to sacrifice his own principles, and people died for it.

No, Dumbledore I could not trust. Because if it came down to me or a death eater spawn. I'm not sure he'd pick me. He was the powerful man who was so terrified of using it that he might as well be a muggle.

I took a sip of tea, thankful for the removal of the abomination drink from my immediate presence, even if the heathens around me continued to drink it for some reason, it couldn't be for the taste. Tea, now that is the good stuff. Tea always calms me. I would have to wait and see how things progress. It's only the first day. Canon might still be on the rails. Maybe I'm panicking over nothing. Perhaps Quirrell hasn't fully been possessed yet and turned into his pathetic self.

The other possibility was more chilling.

Perhaps Voldemort was in complete control and it hadn't been Quirrell giving me detention…

Well, there went my appetite.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Right after dinner, I'm unceremoniously kidnapped by a grinning Tonks and a cool Ophelia. My friends hesitantly let me go, without a fight after I wave them off. I deserve this one. And right now, I could really use letting off some steam. Taking a beating or giving one, it all works up a sweat and pain never killed anyone. Well… Maybe a bad point to make.

"You're supposed to be terrified." Ophelia says, sounding disappointed as I calmly follow along behind Tonks who's leading us Morgana knows where.

"After Quirrell, I just don't feel it anymore." I say, shrugging. The worst Ophelia would do would be to hex me. I might be facing Voldemort in detention this weekend.

"Quirrell? Wasn't he the muggle studies teacher?" Ophelia says with an incredulous look, then she looks deeply offended. "You're saying the muggle studies teacher is scarier than me?"

"You know he's the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher now." Tonks says from ahead of us. Looking back to give Ophelia an annoyed look.

She laughs, short and cold. "Our last instructor could barely figure out how to dress herself let alone hold a wand, forgive me if I'm not shaking in my boots." She mocks her friend.

Can I have that teacher please? No? Fuck you too world! I think, not really handling things well. My calm moment with my tea having worn off.

I shake my head soon after, warning them, "Just wait until you have DADA." I look ahead somberly. "You'll see."

"Hey, I know I said we'd do this today…. But are you okay, Lucas?" Tonks says suddenly, having stopped and turned around, eyes searching. She didn't appear to like what she found.

"No." I admit. I am definitely not okay right now. "Let's do it anyway." I had such a decisive easy plan to follow at Hogwarts. And the first day has completely blown it up. If Quirrell and Snape were different. What would Lockhart be like? Lupin? Moody? What if Voldemort wasn't batshit insane? If he could actually concretely move without having to do silly convoluted book plots. Yeah, I was definitely not okay. I had a plan to avoid the war and the worst of it. The magical world was crazy dangerous at times. And now it seems I was stuck with no compass, everything different enough that I couldn't predict things.

I was actually looking forward to a fight. It would be good to work off some stress.

"Tonks, don't go soft on me. The kid wants to do it. And I definitely have some stress to work out." Ophelia whines, sharply. "He's willingly offering to be our chew toy, don't pussy out!"

"Language!" Tonks says, giving Ophelia an indecipherable look.

She snorts mockingly, "Come off it, Tonks. You've been wanting to smack him around since the summer, the opening feast is just more motivation."

"I'm really okay with it." I say calmly. Meeting Tonks' eyes. She looks even more uncomfortable now, it seems I'm not helping. Seems to be how it goes for me, I think guiltily.

She bites her lip, "Yeah, that's what's worrying me…" She looks around, sighing. "We're almost there anyway. We'll just practice some spells. Nothing too mean." She says firmly. Sending Ophelia a glare when she opens her mouth to protest.

Ophelia clicks her teeth shut, looking annoyed. Before tossing her hair haughtily. "Fine, but if I don't get any stress relief from this, you owe me, Tonks!"

Tonks chuckles, "All night long, I promise." She winks down at me, "You didn't hear or understand any of that, little claw, right?"

What can I say, I'm thrown by the hint of a physical relationship between the two, but I've been suicidal enough for the last two days. "I don't know what you're talking about." I say placidly.

"He's learned how to keep his mouth shut at least." Ophelia scoffs. "Let's get to hexing him already." She's practically bouncing on her feet.

"Keep your knickers on, you terror." Tonks says with a teasing smile. I'm changing my mind, I do not want to do this if the two of them are going to be flirting during.

"Not in front of the firstie, isn't this how you got into trouble in the first place, you hedonist." Ophelia grumbles, pointing her wand towards Tonks in a playful manner.

"Oh you wanna go? Give me a spanking?" Tonks waggles her eyebrows, her own wand raised.

"If we're not doing my punishment beating, can I go? I really don't want to be here for the two of you… Doing whatever this is." I say dryly, honestly at this point I do blame Tonks. Everything around her just goes insane. Maybe it's not all me.

At least it seems like the absolute boiling anger from yesterday has softened if they're goofing off a bit and flirting.

Tonks and Ophelia eye each other, I grimace as I recognize the hungry looks. Why on earth did they even waste time getting me if they're going to be like this? "I'm leaving." I say taking a step away.

"No… I want to put this all behind us. Let's do this." Tonks says finally. Reaching out and grabbing my arm, dragging me with her as she suddenly speeds up for our destination.

Ophelia mutters something behind us, I feel my face reddening as Tonks squeaks and jumps ahead of me, pulling me along so hard she almost jerks my shoulder out of its socket. That crazy bitch sent a spell at her bum! I don't know what it did, I don't want to know. Get me the hell out of here! I'm not getting into the middle of this!

Tonks drags me into a room on the second floor, not too far away from the Defense against the Dark Arts tower. The room is bigger on the inside, almost as big as a soccer field, and it has targets laying around the walls, scorch marks everywhere, broken desks, even a gouge in the floor several meters wide, target dummies here and there, haphazardly tossed to the ground, the place looks a bit of a mess to be honest.

"Tonks… You said you'd cleaned up before we left for the summer…" Ophelia says, a hand to her face, shaking her head. She's trying to sound angry, but her hand isn't completely hiding her grin from my perspective closer to the ground.

"This is the cleaned up state, you should have seen it before." Tonks says playfully, twirling her wand between her fingers.

"What is this place?" I ask curiously.

"Just a little something one of our Hufflepuff friends came up with, and helped us set it all up by sweet talking Flitwick. She graduated last year." Tonks says, a fond smile on her face as she looks around the room. "I put her on her ass sooo many times in here. Good times."

"Please no more of that stuff." I say exasperated. Merlin I wasn't that bad at their age was I?

"In dueling!" Tonks clarifies, but she's laughing at me now. Ophelia sending me a superior smirk, fingering her wand.

"Sure. Whatever. Let's call it dueling." I say rolling my eyes. "So how are we doing this?"

It's only because I'm looking at Ophelia that I manage to roll away from the silent spell she sends my way. "Oh, come on!?" I shout. Dodging again, as a giggling Tonks sends what I recognize as a stinging hex my way.

I feel a rush of excitement however, this fight is just what I need, get the blood pumping.

I roll away, taking my wand out in the process and shouting, "Fumos!" The smokescreen spell immediately covers me and the surrounding area with smoke, as I roll to my feet and sprint away to get some distance.

"Oh, he's a clever little rat." I hear Ophelia laugh, "I'll enjoy putting him down!" Just to my left the smoke disappears in a hole, sight visible all the way back to Ophelia's wand, a spell impacting the far wall with a loud thud, having blown away the smoke for its entire path.

"You'll take his head off with that." Tonks says conversationally, I'm starting to regret the smoke screen. They can't see me, but I can't see their spells either. And even firing randomly, I'm finding it hard to move out of the way in time. I can't help smiling though, because I have successfully dodged the first brace.

"Just a teeny concussion. No biggie." Ophelia says excitedly. "Homenum Revelio." She calls out, "~Found you!~" She sings. Before I barely roll away from whatever the hell she's firing at me that keeps impacting like a damn sledgehammer.

I'm so going to find a way to get her to teach me that!

"Run little claw, run before we snare you, I think Ophelia might actually break some bones!" Tonks cackles, a joking tone in her voice.

I can hear Ophelia chuckling between my frantic dodges of whatever spell that is, they're having a good damn conversation while silently spellcasting. I just barely dodge to the side of another spell, gasping as it was inches away from my head. Their speed in casting was pretty good.

"You don't need his head completely intact, do you?" Ophelia trills excitedly.

"Eh," Tonks chuckles, "He has a hard head." I run out of the smoke, blanching when I find Tonks waiting there. But her voice was coming from the other direction!?

"You threw your voice!" I yell accusingly. I yelp as Tonks nails me easily with a stinging hex to the gut. Then I quickly toss myself to the ground barely avoiding Ophelia's spell, the top of my hair ruffled. As I fall, I fire off a spell at a surprised Tonks, catching her with an, "Impedimenta." The impediment jinx slows her down for a moment as I dive back into the smoke, firing stinging hexes - Due to being able to rapid fire them - back at her last known position, while keeping my ears peeled for the telltale swoosh of Ophelia's spell.

I get two stinging hexes, one to the groin, one straight to the face, as Ophelia was waiting for me to do just that and nails me expertly. I fall down howling exaggerating the effects, the unexpected pain wasn't terrible, but certainly not pleasant either, nor was I ready for it. I roll around on the ground, making a big deal out of my pain - exaggerating it even more even as its already stopped hurting, as Tonks rushes over, scowling at Ophelia.

Hah, got you!

The second I see Ophelia's eyes slant over towards Tonks. I strike. "Expelliarmus! Flipendo!" I disarm her, her wand flying into the air, and then with all the strength of will and intent I have, I imagine the knockback jinx tossing her into a somersault in the air and I fire it.

The yelp Ophelia makes as she's suddenly somersaulted and then slams back into the ground is very satisfying. I wandlessly use "Accio." For her wand, and hold it steady in my left hand.

"Holy shit! Are you suicidal, baby claw?" Tonks says, holding her wand pointed my way, but watching Ophelia with wide amused eyes. "Ophelia, the baby has your ~wand~" She sings teasingly.

Ophelia pulls her braids out of her face, as she slowly gets up from her prone position. Her eyes practically shooting lightning bolts at me. Her cheeks red with anger. "Not for long!" And then she rushes me with a roar, while I scramble back, trying to nail her with another knockback jinx.

"Nuh-uh, take your beatings like a man." Tonks says cheerfully, flinging spells at me everytime I get my wand in Ophelia's direction, forcing me to dodge those and lose my opportunity.

"I still have your wand, what are you gonna do? Punch me? Like a muggle?" I taunt Ophelia, which in hindsight, not my best decision. I think im enjoying myself a little too much.

Her golden eyes spark with anger, and she snarls at me, jumping towards me. I raise my wand, Tonks won't be able to hit me before I get her this time, she's too close. Then suddenly she seems to grow fur, Oh shit that's a Jaguar! I scream mentally as a fucking Jaguar does a flying leap at me, knocking me over, taking the wand out of my left hand with her mouth and treading not too kindly on my torso, knocking the breath out of me.

She transforms back, and of fucking course she's an Animagus. Why not?

Although, fuck, that was cool.

She flips her hair haughtily, somewhat ruined by her rumpled appearance and the sweat on her face. "You'll pay for laying your filthy hands on my beautiful wand, you cretin!"

I roll my eyes internally, she's really playing it up a little too much for me to take her seriously.

Unfortunately for her, the minute she decides to start talking, I level my wand her way, and just as she finishes her sentence, nail her with another knockback jinx. Her angry shriek makes Tonks literally fall down laughing. Tears coming out of her eyes.

"I can see why she needs help with DADA. Talks too much." I huff. Making Tonks laugh harder. I make the mistake of thinking she is an easy target. I fire a knockback jinx at her, and her wand meets it, tip lit up, and she deflects it back at me, my vision going upside down as I violently fling back, somersaulting through the air.

"Depulso!" Comes an angry growl, Ophelia stalking forward, hitting me dead on before I can even land from Tonks spell, and sending me careening into the wall.

I smack into it with a loud groan, falling down, managing to duck the next spell, barely. Before I run again. Tonks and Ophelia both send spells after me. One with markedly more enthusiasm.

Another Depulso hits me, this time from Tonks. And I'm sent across the floor, rolling without control. Just barely managing to stop myself from slamming into a wall again, then I'm dodging spellfire. I take a stinging hex to the arm, the shoulder, then the gut again.

Tonks is definitely taking it easy on me. these things barely sting now that I've taken a few.

"Tonks! Stop being the only one to hit the little brat!" Ophelia complains, sending another hex my way that I avoid by jumping into Tonks hex.

"Stop aiming for his balls and face and maybe he'll stop jumping into my spells!" Tonks laughs. Firing spells rapid fire like, her hair wild and untamed and with pure joy in her eyes.

I probably somewhat match her look, I'm having a blast despite everything.

I try another Fumos. Tonks does something that blows all of the smoke away by twirling her wand. I manage to nail Tonks with an Expelliarmus and the fucking bitch throws her wand in the air just before the spell hits, then grabs it again and nails me with another stinging hex, my whole body is basically one big welt at his point.

Damn, I'll remember that Expelliarmus trick though! I'm learning a ton in this fight.

I switch targets to Ophelia, but now that she's not working on just pure anger, she's cold and calculated with her spells, I can't touch her at all, and every spell she sends either hits me, or forces me into Tonks spells.

I'm running out of ideas and energy. My body hurts, my face hurts. I feel good though. Tonks looks happy. I've paid for my mistake. A workout has worked wonders in making me less maudlin about Quirrell. Its the kind of good hurt you get after an intense workout.

I avoid another hex to my groin, this girl is just messed up, ending up taking another one from Tonks as payment. Then I automatically move away from the next groin shot from Ophelia, groaning when I spot her wand following me, her eyes focused, she knew I would dodge into Tonks spell and waited for me to get used to the pattern. I'm not surprised at all when instead of a stinging hex a compact ball of wind hits me straight in the face.

…Ow!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Tonks beat down the tingle of worry as she saw Lucas drop, and yes that's definitely a broken nose, she thought, feeling conflicted. She had been enraged at the boy for using the opening feast of all things to humiliate her. If it had been just them in private she'd have probably found it funny. As it was, people thought they could poke at her powers again, if she was getting as they said all day today; naughty with the first year.

Lucas had managed to pierce straight into a lot of baggage that she and Ophelia held.

She had a thick skin in general. She wasn't one to avoid trouble. Nor did she have a problem hitting someone in the elderberries if they were being creeps. It's just… She had thought this year… It would finally be about something else then my powers...

She sighed forlornly, walking up to the crumpled unconscious boy. She had intended to beat the crap out of him. Even told Ophelia to literally scare him to death. She had underestimated just how angry her best friend - sometimes lover - was. She'd been forced to put a stop to it, much sooner than she really wanted. Because dammit she was hurt.

But she had seen the look in Lucas' eyes. When he realized. The shock he exuded, the guy hadn't meant to hurt her, that was obvious. And then came the self loathing, so strong Tonks had almost thought the boy would go for his own wand or let Ophelia do as she wished. It woke her up. The boy really meant his apology. And Tonks couldn't let Ophelia loose completely. Her sadistic streak would be too much for a firstie. Honestly, how on earth she ever conned the hat into letting her into Hufflepuff. She loved the girl, really, but even Tonks admitted she was a little unhinged.

She looked at the poor guy, welts all over, his face swollen and red, a broken nose. One hell of a goose egg. Probably uncomfortably swollen in other places if Ophelia's targeting held true.

Luckily enough, all easy to heal and not overly painful.

She definitely forgave him now. She did like the little shit. He was funny and could hold a conversation with her on her level. While giving as good as he got. And her parents liked him, so that settled that. Now she had other worries. The kid had shown a scary level of self loathing for an ickle firstie. And then today. Something must have happened. Because he was happy to have the shit beat out of him. He didn't even complain at the end when he was basically one big welt. Tonks was kind of worried about his mindset more than anything. He was so different from any other first year she'd ever met. she'd probably never brought Ophelia into this if it was a normal kid messing with her.

She watched as Ophelia kneeled over Lucas, healing his broken nose, checking over his goose egg and healing that too. She sighs again as the girl does not heal the welts. "C'mon, hasn't he had enough, he's paid for his comments." She chides her friend gently.

"He needs the physical reminder. They'll have healed by tomorrow anyway, besides they're not even that painful, you know that." Ophelia says with a shake of her head. All the butterfly charms Tonks made for her, jingling quietly. Barely audible, Tonks always heard them though. They were spelled precisely for that.

"At least heal him where you hit him the most." She says delicately.

Ophelia snorts. "I'm not putting my wand anywhere near that, firstie or not."

"The world's future greatest healer," Tonks drawls sarcastically, "As long as they have tits."

"I am who I am." Ophelia says with one of those little taunting smirks she likes to put on to get Tonks mad. Tonks isn't going to get distracted now though.

"Are you going to let things go? I have." Tonks asks a small soft smile coming unbidden to her. She does love when Ophelia gets all scary bitch for her. Have ever since they were little firsties and Ophelia was all claws and no charm. She really hadn't changed all that much… Her claws were much sharper now.

She had reasons for why, though. Merlin, they both did.

"Nope." Ophelia says, a secretive smile on her face. "He'll have to work harder for it." She sniffs, stroking her wand.

Tonks winces, she's not going forget being disarmed anytime soon…

She raises an eyebrow in surprise as her friend puts her wand over the head of her ickle claw again. Was she going to heal him after all? How unlike her to change her mind…

"Oblivia-" Tonks is faster with her "Expelliarmus!" Ophelia's wand flying into the air, Tonks catching it with her hair going frazzled with shock. "What in Merlin's heaving ball sack do you think you're doing?" She yells.

Ophelia just raised a calm eyebrow at her, looking puzzled. Tonks bites her lip hard enough to bleed. "Don't give me that look, what the fuck were you thinking? He has a Morgana damned concussion!"

"Only two people know I am an Animagus." Ophelia says coldly, "You and me… Now there's three." She smiles coldly at Lucas. "I think two is a superior number, really."

Tonks normally loves how Ophelia goes between hot and cold, but this is a line over what she's willing to do. Lucas is a firstie and a friend. "No." She says firmly.

"I'm sure I can convince you, Tonks." Ophelia says with a cold calculating expression, pulling her braids to her front, letting them fall down over her breasts.

Tonks is kind of offended, does she really think she's that easy?

"Don't kid yourself, sweetie, we both know in this relationship you're the one that comes running when I beckon." She says scathingly.

Ophelia continues to look at her calculatingly, head tilted, golden eyes like a hawk as she examines Tonks. Not even reacting to her scathing and true comeback. Eventually Ophelia sighs, "You're not going to let me obliviate him, are you?"

"No. And I swear on the blood bonds we made in fourth year… If he's suddenly coming to me with holes in his head, I'm coming for you." Tonks bites out. She wanted to become a goddamn Auror. There were some things Ophelia was okay with that would never fly with her. They usually made it work. But she wouldn't let her mess with Lucas' brain.

"And there's nothing I can do to… Convince you?"

Tonks glares at her, crossing her arms. Their relationship as best friends and whatever else the fuck they were to each other, was up and down, but never before had Ophelia suggested to do something like this. "We're not those kinds of people." She states flatly.

Ophelia smiles sadly, closing her eyes, "Oh, Tonks. You know I am."

"Only if you chose to be, and you're not going to chose to be." Tonks spits out, tossing her wand back to the black girl.

"I am still angry with him for setting things off again, on the first day no less… But he was impressive… For his age." Ophelia says idly, running her wand across his chin. Tonks isn't worried, once Ophelia realizes Tonks limits she pulls back, she won't break that. The girl is dependent on her to a level that always makes Tonks want to go hurt her family.

"He was. Could you imagine any of the boys in our year take that many stinging hexes and still be standing?" She muses, she'd honestly been impressed with the boy since she met him. Intelligent, clever - which wasn't the same thing - A sense of humor, and just something, there was something there with him, that made Tonks want to poke and prod. Like there was a mystery to unravel.

He didnt act eleven, that was for sure.

"Kid's got guts." Ophelia smirks, "Too bad he isn't a witch…"

Tonks rolls her eyes, "He's also eleven, don't be weird." She laughs suddenly, "He also totally got you! I always did say you talk too much!"

Ophelia's face twitches. "He got lucky… And now he knows…" She growls slightly, frustrated.

"That was entirely your fault, you lost your cool against a firstie, got taken for a ride, lost your wand, and then exposed your own secret." Tonks says firmly, still laughter in her eyes, the memory of Ophelia's gobsmacked look as she flew into the air and lost her wand would be with her until she died!

"I suppose I have no choice but to trust him." Ophelia gripes, giving Tonks a long suffering look.

"Try being less of a bitch. It might help." Tonks points out dryly. Before giggling. Ophelia could barely be respectful to the Professors, so she really doubted she'd suddenly play nice. Except to Snape of course. It baffled Tonks how Ophelia, who barely could stand guys, excepting that brief disastrous fling with Fawley . Could have the hots for Snape of all people. Although she always would sniff and tell Tonks it's his brain she had the hots for. Potions people were nuts, she decided not for the first time. She really wished she didn't need the NEWT for becoming an Auror.

"Please, you like me just as I am." She scoffs. She pokes Lucas gingerly with her wand. "You should take him back to the dorm. Let him sleep it off." She suggests.

Tonks raises a surprised eyebrow, "And what exactly will you be doing?"

Ophelia smirks, some fire in her eyes again, "Waiting for you to come back and entertain me." She says, suggestively.

Tonks rolls her shoulders, "Alright, be back in a jiffy." She could use a workout tonight... Just drop off the kid and then come back, shouldn't be long.

A few minutes later as she opens the door to the Hufflepuff common room, Lucas' unconscious body floating beside her, she meets Professor Sprout's unimpressed gaze.

"This…" She looks for words, before slumping her shoulders. "Is exactly what it looks like." She admits.

Damn… Ophelia's going to be pissed when I don't come back. Tonks thinks wryly. Oh well, at least she can't blame this one on Lucas, if she'd healed him like she asked then she could have probably spun a tale for Sprout.

She might beat her detention record for the first month at this rate.

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I wake up with a start, my heart is racing, I look around me wildly, before I realize I wasn't in a fight anymore, Oh, yeah…. Ophelia knocked me out…

I blink owlishly at my surroundings. Am I in the hospital wing?

The numerous beds, dividers and the smell that seems to be just like infirmaries everywhere would suggest so. I touch my face, surprised to not feel any pain or welts. Pomfrey does good work…

I look around, seeing no one else in the hospital wing. It's completely dark and eerily silent. No sign of its matron. I find my wand on the nightstand next to my bed, a quick "Tempus." Tells me the time is 01:23 in the morning.

I hop off the bed, glad to still be in my robes and not a hospital gown of some sort. I'm well rested and not in any more pain. Seems to me I have the perfect opportunity to do some exploring.

I sneak out of the hospital wing, glad to see there's no sort of alarm set for me leaving, or if there is, at least not one that has Poppy Pomfrey arriving to catch me.

I keep my ears peeled for any sounds as I head for the room of requirement. Looking out for Filch or a teacher, or worse, running into Ophelia patrolling.

To my frustration, sounds are everywhere in Hogwarts. Night time not stopping portraits from quietly chatting with each other or the noise from suits of armor shifting their feet. Or moving, as I twice walked into a hallway to find suits of armor and statues climbing off their pedestals and switching places. No wonder no one gave directions based on statues, they didn't stay in place!

My frustration grows as does my interest in Hogwarts magic, as I open the door to another hallway, pass through. and find myself on the first floor! I had walked through from the sixth floor!

Only the fact I have hours still until morning, makes me try again, and again. Finding myself going down a set of stairs, and ending up two floors higher. Magic was awesome! And incredibly irritating.

Twice I'm forced to hide in a broom closet as Filch stalks by, muttering angrily to himself. Both times I'm almost caught because I've entered a hallway or door that leads me almost straight into him. Is Hogwarts actively trying to mess with me? Or am I just paranoid? At this point I'm fighting to get to the seventh floor just on principle.

I even end up in the third corridor. Twice! The castle would rather lead me to a Cerberus then allow me to the seventh floor.

I mean, I was even walking through a straight corridor, and I walked another step that ended up on a set of stairs. I look behind me, and there's no corridor anymore, I'm completely on the grand staircase, just walls around me. I'd scream in frustration if it weren't likely to have Filch running into me soon after.

I'm just beginning to wonder if it's even worth trying anymore, when I stumble off a moving staircase from the sixth floor. And actually appear to be on the seventh floor. Finally! Quirky castle, I love it as much as I am annoyed by it. I wonder if Hogwarts is sentient and messing with me, or if it's just a night time protocol to screw with students out of bounds. Not the first time I've wondered about sentience, I doubt I'll get an answer anytime soon.

Stepping into the corridor that holds the room of requirement. I think I have my answer. Sooner than I thought. Much sooner. Hogwarts must be at least semi-sentient. Because the castle definitely did not want me here. It had worked to protect the student, me.

The sight that meets me when I enter the corridor is Professor Quirrell exiting the room of requirement, holding the Ravenclaw Diadem! The fucking Horcrux!

I'm dead. I've killed myself. Is my only thought as I stand, frozen.

Quirrell meets my eyes, a cold smile blooming on his face. "What a pleasant surprise, Mister Greenwood."

"Professor Quirrell, I guess I have detention again, huh?" I say weakly, nervous sweat on my forehead as I try to maneuver this situation. Inwardly shaking in fear. It's settled, this is not book canon, no way, there are no butterflies I've done in one month in the wizarding world to change things to this level!

"Oh, I'm not one to punish a student's curiosity." Quirrell says quietly, a thin smile still in place. He cocks his head, studying me with an intense hungry gaze. "I am quite interested however in knowing how you, a mudblood, knew to find this room."

It's the casual cool way he says it that makes it sting even more. There's no passion, no hate, no cruelty meant to be inflicted. To him I just am a lesser creature. My mind whirls desperately with a believable excuse. I can't use the house elves, I've been here two days, it's not a believable lie. I need to say something already!

"Ophelia Onai was talking about it and I overheard it." I lie, not willing to mention Tonks, the only other plausible person I could have heard about it from. I know it's a weak lie, and pointless even as I say it.

Quirrell tuts, "A lie, Mister Greenwood. Must be expertly crafted, spun without hesitation, your facade and eyes turned into its loyal subordinates." His thin smile turns malicious, eyes darkening, "I'd think a mudblood able to lie so well that the Prophet starts pretending mudbloods can learn, can become like us! Would do it better!"

I gulp, my hands shaking, staring at him, the shadows seemingly growing behind him, casting his pale face in relief, he looks crazed, fanatic angry eyes staring at me. He's still holding the Horcrux in his left hand. Oh…That was a mistake, I immediately realize, as Quirrell sees my glance, and his intent grows murderous. I feel like my throat is constricted, I can't breathe.

He raises his wand against me and I feel tears prickling in my eyes as a green sickly light plays at the tip of the wand. Then he pauses. Looking aggravated.

"If I didn't have to continue to play professor, I'd crack your skull open and suckle on what little nugget of information you possess that brought you here, little mudblood." Quirrell drawls, waving his wand lazily in my direction.

I can't speak, I can't think, I don't want to die! Please, I don't want to die, I haven't even lived yet!

"Dumbledore is keeping an annoyingly close eye on me, you can thank that for living beyond today." He points his wand at me, "Well, if you could remember." He mocks, before hissing out, "Obliviate!"

I don't even dodge, I can't. My limbs are frozen in fear and panic. The white light hits me.

….. What was I doing?

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Authors Note:

Opinions of people and their thoughts does not mean they are always true, take some things with a grain of salt. Unreliable Narrator is in effect.

Lucas' opinions are not necessarily correct. His belief stems from canon.

I'll reiterate this is definitely not Canon. 

Was that fight fair? Not really. They have some baggage Lucas poked and he got the brunt of it. He just managed to open an old wound at just the perfect bad timing. All there is. No one is a psychopath. Well ... Quirrell qualifies...

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

When I wake up in the morning and go down into the sett for our group trip for breakfast, I receive an immediate scolding from the two prefects for leaving the hospital wing and coming back to the common room on my own.

I take it in stride, I have cleared things with Tonks, and I have a full day of classes to look forward to. Perhaps even a trip to the library after. Or, most definitely a trip to the library after.

Unfortunately our sadistic educational masters decide that History of Magic right after breakfast is sensible scheduling, and is supposed to have any other effect than drowsy students. I teach Su how to play hangman in the back, Padma and Susan both giving us dirty looks. Hannah, after watching us for a few minutes, ropes Neville into a game of it as well. Slowly but surely I'll corrupt these Puffs.

Most other students doze off, only the hardcore Ravenclaws bothering to take extensive notes of Binns babble. Susan and Padma both break halfway through the lesson, and join us, realizing this class is utterly useless. By group decision it's decided History of Magic is homework hour. My vote on dueling in the back is viciously voted down. Even Neville gives me a dirty look.

I pout for the rest of the lesson. It's not like Binns would even notice. I had gotten Susan and Padma to break, by loudly speaking up and asking the ghostly Professor a history question - speaking up, because raising my hand did not seem to draw any attention from the ghost. When the Professor then not only called me Patricia for some reason, but then answered my question about the creation of the Wizengamot by rambling on about the goblin rebellion of 1266, Padma and Susan could not take the class seriously anymore.

Me arguing that if the Professor can't even tell who we are , pointing out we can't get in trouble for dueling in class when he can't report us - falls on deaf ears. I'll get to them eventually. These cute kids stand no chance against the corruption of fun and games.

Charms class is next, and for the first time that counts, we have class with the Gryffindors. I don't count Herbology, because honestly, who can even notice the golden trio to be, when you have to look out for the plants eating you, dissolving you. Or in one Japanese plants case - and of course it's Japanese - impregnating you. And yes, that works for both sexes. Needless to say, no male student - except Neville. Is going anywhere near the dark back area of the greenhouse. For any reason or grade. Ever.

The less said about how excited Hannah and Neville both are about finding out about that plant the better. Merlin, those two deserve each other, and their potential abomination plant babies.

Neville had spent a lot of time in the greenhouses with Sprout in canon, hadn't he? No! Away bad thoughts, ugh, I need brain bleach.

I watch surreptitiously as Harry and Ron sit and chat quietly together. Hermione nearby shares a seat with Sophie Roper. The only reason I know her name - the fact she tripped and fell into fertilizer during our first Herbology lesson near the end. Perhaps not the best thing to be known for. But I still don't know the names of half my year in Hufflepuff so good on her to earn recognition.

They don't look upset, so they must have not had Quirrell yet. I can't imagine Hermione looking anything but furious if she's been forced through that class.

Professor Flitwick does roll call, and I can't help but chuckle as he does in fact fall off his stack of books upon reading Harry's name. The first part of the lesson is as usual, lots of warnings and precautions about spell usage and dangers in mispronunciations. But for the first class so far, Professor Flitwick moves us onto spells. Sure it's only Lumos, but hey it's magic. Not just warnings of - If you do this you die. I get it. Magic world = dangerous. Now lemme do some magic... Is what I would say if I hadn't already mastered this spell… Why did I want to study ahead again? Classes are going to be dull this year.

I'm partnered with Hannah as Professor Flitwick walks around, giving instructions and helping students along. I watch her instead of performing my own spell, interested in seeing how someone that has lived with magic their entire life deals with spell casting. Do they know about intent? Belief?

Hannah manages a flickering light after a few tries. She bites her lip, staring at her wand in consternation. Her eyes flick my way and she seems surprised. "Why aren't you trying?" She whispers.

"I already know how to do it, do you want some advice?" I whisper back. The books seem pretty accurate, even the magically raised doesn't seem to have much of a head start, just more aware of all the surrounding knowledge a muggleborn couldn't possibly learn this quick.

She nods quickly, looking at me attentively. "Go ahead, Professor." She giggles, a mischievous look on her face.

"Professor Greenwood sounds good." I say with a smirk, I have to admit, I definitely have - become a Hogwarts Professor - on my list of plans.

"Alright, so what are you visualizing when you perform the spell?" I ask Hannah.

She scrunches her nose cutely, "What do you mean?"

"The way I got it to work instantly. I visualized it as a light switch turning on, or as simply a bright light, pushing away the darkness. I said the spell with that intent. You control the spell, focus, and intend there to be bright light, say the words, and believe there will be." I explain, having to stop myself from going on to further explain my theories on intent and belief.

"Lumos!" Hannah calls out a few moments later and a bright light shines from her wand. Sputtering out as she drops it in shock, her face red as she scrambles to pick it back up from where it rolls away across the floor. Eyes turning her way at the successful cast and commotion.

Without thinking I say "Accio." The wand flies to me, smacking into my hand. I hand it to Hannah, not realizing what I just did until I see her gobsmacked face.

I look around, the entire class has been watching since the instance Hannah became the first person in the class to perform a perfect Lumos. And I'd just used a wandless spell. In front of everyone.

Oh my God and Merlin and Morgana! I want to rip my hair out right now. I have been here for three days! Stop making a spectacle in EVERY damn class! I scream at myself internally.

"Mister Greenwood!" Professor Flitwick chirps, astonished. "Was that a wandless summoning charm I just witnessed?"

"It can't be, the summoning charm is fourth year material!" Hermione blurts out, looking at me in shock. "It can't be!" She insists, her jaw sets stubbornly and she gives me a glare like I've completely upset the world order.

"I really didn't mean to show that off, sorry for disrupting the class, Professor." I say, chagrined.

"Twenty points to Hufflepuff for performing an advanced spell, Mister Greenwood, and take another ten for doing it wandlessly." Professor Flitwick on the other hand seems so happy he's almost levitating.

"He also already knows Lumos, and it's his advice that helped me perform the spell." Hannah piles on, giving me a proud supportive look.

I want to palm my face, Hannah, sweetie, no!

"Splendid! Five more points to Hufflepuff for assisting your classmate!" Flitwick is grinning ear to ear, while Hermione is looking increasingly sour. I do not want a rivalry, stahp!

"I only did what any Hufflepuff would have done." I say with a long suffering sigh, silently groaning at the way all these Hufflepuffs look at me for that one, I just keep digging my grave, I shouldn't be allowed to talk. Simple plan, Lucas, keep it quiet and under the radar until the new year. How's that one going?

"Could you show your Lumos to the class?" Professor Flitwick asks me, I don't really want to, but how do you tell a professor no, especially one as nice as Flitwick?"

I raise my wand, solidifying my intent, imagining a great light, "Lumos!"

Professor Flitwick applauds me, almost squeaking in delight. "That is as perfect of a Lumos I have ever seen from a first year." He praises me. Every eye on me. I squirm, the gossip is going to be horrendous. I already have enough due to the article, my actions at the opening feast, and then getting sent to the hospital wing already.

Professor Flitwick gives me a considering look, before smiling conspiratorially, "Say, Mister Greenwood? With such a strong Lumos, do you happen to know its stronger variant?"

"No, I can't say that I do." I lie bold facedly. Actually sighing in frustration as Hermione Granger of course raises her hand immediately.

Professor Flitwick calls on her, and the bushy haired annoyance gives me a superior look, before primly reciting. "The superior version of Lumos is Lumos Maxima, unlike the wand lighting charm, Lumos Maxima can be used against light sensitive dark creatures and is therefore considered as a defensive spell as well."

Professor Flitwick smiles delightedly, "A textbook answer Miss Granger. From the third year textbook. Take ten points to Gryffindor."

Good, shove the attention back on her. Leave me out of it. I think, relieved.

"Care to give it a try? Mister Greenwood?" Professor Flitwick asks me with a happy grin on his little face.

Damn….

I nod, giving out a little huff of air, I glance to my left, catching the eyes of my friends, mouthing, close your eyes!

Then I raise my wand, look straight at that smug ass professor's face. Imagine a thousand suns, obliterating all darkness, then I cast, "Lumos Maxima!"

Thankfully I have the slight common sense to not only warn my friends, but to also close my own eyes at the last second. The shrieks from my classmates must mean I have a particularly bright spell today. The thud I hear right after casting is probably the Professor falling off his desk. Making me feel a little better. It was Flitwick after all, so I don't actually want him hurt, a bruise or two I'm okay with…

"Turn it off!" Hermione shrieks. Followed by several other students, I think I hear a "Bloody hell!" From a certain Weasley even.

I imagine everything falling into darkness. All light perishing, "Nox." I say, and open my eyes. Finding a room full of students blinking heavily, many with tears in their eyes. The Professor jumps up on his desk again looking sheepish.

I turn and give Hannah an exasperated look, Susan and Neville are sitting to the side of her, and obviously closed their eyes, "Why didn't you close your eyes, you dummy!" I chide, seeing her blink tears out of her eyes.

She grins through the tears, "I wanted to see it." Are all Hufflepuffs going to be Gryffindors now?

"Ten points for a wonderfully strong spell demonstration, and another five for a perfectly executed wand extinguishing spell!" Professor Flitwick says looking proud, "Perhaps, a five minute breather for everyone before we continue practicing?"

The class handily agrees, even though we're supposed to be on a small break, Hermione immediately sets to creating her own Lumos with a vengeance. Sending occasional looks my way.

Hannah grabs my hand, smiling widely, "You earned us fifty points in one class!" She whispers exultant.

I shake my head, "You know I don't care about that."

Susan and Neville, sitting to the left of Hannah both give me exasperated looks to that. Susan piping in, "We'll care for you, and praise you for being such a good boy." She says determinedly.

I snort, giving her a dry look, "Please, if anything I'll lose fifty house points by tomorrow."

"Then it's good that you're already ahead." She says with a decisive nod.

Neville puts his face into his hands, "Please lose fifty house points when I'm not there." He begs me.

"I can't control these things." I say with a shrug.

"You kind of can." Neville and Susan both say at the same time. Hannah giggling at us all.

Soon the class is on point again. And I suppose it's something to cheer for when I don't manage to ruin my own plans all by myself, again, in the last thirty minutes.

Unfortunately I'm immediately ambushed by a Granger the second the class is over.

"How did you do that? Is it hard learning wandless magic? I haven't found anything about it in the library? Did you really do that Maxima spell for the first time? Did you lie to the Professor? How did you do that? You're a muggleborn like me, right? What books have you read?" She fires off question after question barely stopping to take a breath as I'm pushed up against the wall of the charms corridor, by this tiny bushy inquisitive monster child.

"Some help?" I ask, my traitor friends all hanging back, seeming to find something very funny about the situation.

"Why won't you answer me?" Hermione snaps, literally stomping her foot and everything.

"For one, you fired off so many questions I don't even remember your first one." I lie, seeing the bushy haired kid chew her lip in consternation. "Secondly I don't have time to write you an essay, just to satisfy your curiosity." I do not need a rivalry, thank you very much!

"What if I give you the questions in writing?" She persists. She's obviously not letting this go. Considering SPEW, she's kind of obsessive over things once she digs her teeth in. Heh, teeth, cuz they're huge…

I send an helpless look to my friends, Hannah offering her version of help, mouthing, kiss her. I glare at her, what the fuck Hannah?

She breaks down giggling, falling into Susan's shoulder, Susan herself struggling to keep her laughter down. Neville looks at the giggling girls and at the stubborn girl holding me hostage for answers. Then wisely decides to go stand by the other Hufflepuffs waiting for our prefect. Abandoning me. Wise, but traitorous my disciple. You shall pay one day!

I look at Hermione who's biting her lip nervously from the long wait for an answer. Her shoulders tense, no doubt thinking the girls are laughing at her. "If you write the questions down, I might answer them, once a week." I weakly surrender. If I answer back in writing it's not technically spending time with her. Right? More like… Penpals?

She brightens up, giving me a quick nod before running off. No doubt to find somewhere to prepare a 30 inch questionnaire. I suspect I'm going to regret not setting rules on the limits on what she can ask.

"Hannah, there's something wrong with you." I accuse, as we move towards the rest of the Hufflepuffs.

"She'd definitely shut up if you kissed her." She teases me.

"We're eleven." I sigh, trying to find support from Susan, who just gives me a giggle, her cheeks pink.

"It would work." Hannah insists stubbornly.

"Fellow Hufflepuffs, save me from the evil witches." I cry out. Looking for succor amongst my peers.

This fails, mostly because there's somehow ten Hufflepuff girls in our year - I really should learn their names - and they all immediately seem to be on the girls' side. Rude.

Secondly because the boys have Zacharias who probably wouldn't help me if I was on fire. Speaking of… I point at him, "Is that a new Gryffindor? What's he doing with our group?"

Derek the pretty Hufflepuff prefect arrives as if materializing out of the ether, "Don't you even dare start with that." He says warningly. "Let's get you all to the Great Hall for lunch."

"Derek! Lucas earned us fifty points in class!" Hannah tattles, the little… Witch…

Derek seems lost for words, he stares at me, finally he speaks up, "What did you do? Cast a Patronus!?"

"I blinded the whole class and made Professor Flitwick fall off his desk." I report. Factually, kind of.

Derek snorts, "Now that sounds like you." He looks over the group, "Alright, no more dawdling, let's move towards lunch."

I sidle up to Neville, "Neville, mate, bestest of pals." I start. He starts walking faster. "I swear it isn't bad!" I promise, keeping up with him.

Neville looks at me skeptically. I wave my hands in front of me, "Hey, I get it, a lot has happened already, but I just want your help with something."

"What is it, Lucas?" He says resignedly.

"Could you tell me who the Hufflepuff girls are?" I ask quietly. Feeling slightly embarrassed I was on day three and I didn't know any of their names. At least for the guys I knew, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernest Macmillan, Wayne Hopkins and Zacharias Smith. Easy. But there were ten Hufflepuff girls. And I only knew Susan and Hannah by name.

I had also noticed that Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin had a lot more students then I remember. Only the Ravenclaw girls seem somewhat canonical, based on vague memories. Although they had a couple extras as well I think. Background characters Rowling never fleshed out? Who knows, but it would be rude to go seven years without knowing their names.

Neville gives me a disbelieving look, "How do you not know their names!" He whispers at me.

"I've been kind of occupied." I argue, "Just help me out, mate."

Neville sighs, then in a quiet move I never would have attributed to him, he tilts his chin at a short bespeckled black haired girl, not letting on what he's doing. "That's Sally-Anne Perks."

He moves his eyes to the girl next to her, a cute brunette with long free flowing hair "Megan Jones." He whispers. "She's related to the Gwenog Jones."

"The two girls behind us, on the left is Eloise Midgen, on the right is Lilian Moon, she has a twin in Ravenclaw."

I briefly look behind, just letting my eyes scan across the hallway, briefly catching the glimpse of a slightly pudgy brunette girl on the left, and a snobby looking blonde girl with a giant forehead on the right.

"Alright thanks, Nev, who's the other four?" I ask looking ahead. One of the girls is walking and talking with Susan and Hannah. She looks Asian, and has an easygoing smile wearing her black hair up in a bun, some colored sticks sticking through them. And… her wand. Well that's a new way to keep your wand.

"That's Katie Kogawa. Her older brother is in Hufflepuff as well, and she has an older sister in Ravenclaw." Neville says quietly. "They're all insane about quidditch."

"How do you know all that?" I whisper back.

"I listen." He deadpans, giving me a judgemental look.

"Alright, I get it. Who's the last three?"

The last three were walking together, I'd seen them around us so I knew what they looked like, but I had no idea on their names. To the left was a black girl who'd dyed her hair dirty blonde, it certainly drew looks, I definitely wagered muggleborn on her. In the middle was a slightly heavy set black haired girl with an unfortunate bulbous nose that I don't believe she'll grow into well. And lastly on the right was a fair skinned girl, with round glasses and a red haired ponytail.

"From the left, Emma Rayner, Grace Lawang and Moira Thistlewood." Neville finishes just as we're reaching the Great Hall. I pat him on the back thankfully.

I'd have to pay attention in classes with the other houses, pick up at least the names of those in my year. It would be embarrassing if some Slytherin was putting me down and I didn't even know the name of the person I was cursing to pee from their ears from now on…

Speaking of Slytherins…

Draco Malfoy and another Slytherin boy with cold blue eyes and a large jutting jaw have Hermione cornered right by the door. She's almost in tears, but is obviously trying to hold it together. Holding her book bag to her chest so hard her hands are starting to turn white.

Derek thankfully is already on it, walking forward with quick decisive steps. "Everything alright, here?" He says sharply, tapping his prefect badge as he stares the tiny Slytherins down.

Hermione takes the opportunity to run off to the Gryffindor table the second the Slytherins focus on the fifth year prefect. Can't really blame her, I doubt they have been saying nice things.

"Of course a Huffleduff comes to the rescue of the low and dirty." The Slytherin boy with the large jaw says snidely. His voice is low and scratchy.

Malfoy snickers, "Evander, did you see how quick she scurried away, like a rat!" The arrogant little toad doesn't even seem to care he's in front of a prefect.

"That's enough! You're… Malfoy and Rosier, Right? Move along or I'll have to take points." Derek says, distaste evident.

Malfoy and Rosier both roll their eyes, but begin to move, I tense up slightly as they come by me, Neville suddenly stepping in front of me, his jaw set. Merlin, he really has some Gryffindor spine in him, to think he could have been like this from the start if Harry and Ron had included him. I think, a bit touched to be honest, that he's standing up for me. Not that a few words from Malfoy or all people would really upset me.

Malfoy spots me, and nods his head politely. "Greenwood." He says neutrally. Rosier follows suit a second later, as they continue on past us. And all I can think is. What. The. Fuck?

I'm not the only one that is thrown. The whole Hufflepuff contingent stands in the entranceway to the Great Hall, frozen in confusion. I can see Nevilles puzzled look at me, and I imagine my face is showing something similar.

"Mister Court, is there a reason the entire Hufflepuff first year group is blocking the entranceway to the Great Hall?" Professor McGonagall asks sternly, we all flinch not having noticed her arriving.

Derek especially practically jumps as he springs into action. "So sorry, Professor! Come along then, move along, move it, that means you, Greenwood!" He says hurriedly as he coaxes us along quickly.

I am lost in thought as I follow along with my classmates. That had been odd. Malfoy was up to his usual muggleborn bullying obviously. So then why was he polite to me? It has to have something to do with that damned article. Me doing well in classes can't be it. Hermione also has and she's obviously still being bullied and looked down upon.

I eat quietly, barely joining into the small talk amongst my friends, sparing a quick smile for Padma and Su as they join us from the Ravenclaw table. I can see the looks the other Hufflepuff first years are giving me. Wondering. Why is he on friendly terms with Slytherins?

My face suddenly being pushed down by a hand in my hair, until I get a face full of mash interrupts my brooding. "Tonks!" I manage to growl out, because who else could it be?

My head is pulled up, and I see Tonks grinning face through the mash dripping off my face. "Wotcher, Lucas! I heard you earned us fifty points from pigtail girl telling Derek, who told Amelia, who told me, congrats!"

"What a fine way to congratulate me…" I say sarcastically. "Scourgify." I clean myself up with a quick flick of my wand, resigned to the looks from my fellow Puffs and the raised eyebrow from Tonks. Yes, I can do that spell too, all glory in my genius, I think glumly, giving Hannah a gimlet glare, Stop bragging about me, it's sweet but oh so annoying!

"It was, wasn't it?" Tonks says cheerfully. Before sitting down next to me, an arm around my shoulder as she peers around. "So these are your friends? C'mon introduce us?" She wheedles.

I can't help but smile, Tonks great mood makes it hard to grumble. "Everyone, this is Nymph-Oof!" I am interrupted from my introduction by a punch to the ribs. Not a gentle one either.

"You already introduced me plenty on the train, you berk!" Tonks growls, "Introduce your friends, you puffskein brain!"

I can't quite hide my amused smile, and although she is glaring at me, I can spot the amused twinkle in her eyes as well. I wave a hand towards Neville. "This is the brave and valiant sir Neville of Longbottom, he of Gryffindor spine and a Hufflepuff heart!" I say grandly. The rest of the Hufflepuff first years watching us, as I'm not exactly quiet.

Neville blushes bright red as Tonks flutters her eyelashes at him, growing them extra long just for the occasion.

I continue on, switching my gaze to Padma. "The Lady Padma of Patil, the great beauty from the east, with wit befitting of a raven!"

Padma just gives me a dry look, shaking her head at my antics. Tonks is practically jumping in her seat giddily at my over the top introductions, what a child, I hope she never changes.

Su looks pink already and I haven't even started yet, I smile at her, "The lady Su of Li, cutest girl in Hogwarts," I say with a wink, making her go beet red, "She may be small, but has a fiery soul, she is the Lady Spitfire!"

"She is adorable, but I'm the cutest girl in Hogwarts." Tonks argues, winking at the embarrassed but pleased looking Su.

"To who? The blind?* I tease, only dodging the elbow to the ribs because I knew it was coming. I move right along to distract Tonks. Susan looks at me with bright blue eyes sitting at the edge of her seat in anticipation.

"Lady Susan of Bones, fairest lady of them all, the soul of Hufflepuff and holding the grace of an angel!" I smile, as Susan breaks out giggling at my over the top introduction.

I turn to Hannah, and wave a hand, "And that's Hannah Abbott." I say, making the girl give me a dirty look.

"Riveting." Tonks giggles, giving Hannah and me a curious look.

"Where's my awesome introduction?" Hannah demands, shaking a fist at me.

"I don't know? Are you going to stop telling everyone about me earning fifty points?" I say giving her a pointed look.

Hannah glares at me mulishly. "No."

"Then no introduction." I say with a sugary sweet smile. Tonks looks amused at our byplay.

Hannah glares at me, and Tonks swoops in to the rescue. "The amazing, beautiful Hannah of the pigtails!" She says grandly enough for the whole table to hear, she doesn't stop there, "The defeater of Greenwood, the witch making Lucas be a little ickle baby! The wonder of Hufflepuff, Hannah!"

Hannah is blushing but she's also laughing, as are most of my friends. I roll my eyes, "Well I guess that's on me."

Tonks ruffles my hair, "It's alright, boys are meant to be clueless." She teases me.

"That's why we girls are around to make sure they make it through life." Su, of all people, says with a small grin, looking my way.

"Neville, mate, help me out here. We're being assaulted!" I say, mock affronted.

Neville shakes his head, "I'm on the girls side." He mumbles, refusing to be drawn into my shenanigans.

I laugh at his beet red face right after, as Susan and Hannah both glomp him from each side. Tonks nods approvingly, "You could learn a thing or two from that boy, a future player I can tell." She winks at him, making poor Neville almost pass out, the boy isn't used to all this physical affection and praise.

"Don't make him pass out, we have Transfiguration after lunch." I say, a smirk on my face. Susan and Hannah both smirking as well as they release a still beet red Neville. Who gives me a weak glare, like it's somehow my fault.

"Tonks! What are you doing with my firsties!" Derek stomps up, looking both nervous and determined at the same time.

"Your firsties?" Tonks says with a sharp grin. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Court." She pulls me closer, "This one's mine!"

"What? So you can put him in the hospital wing again?" Derek says with a distasteful look.

"That was you!?" Hannah says, suddenly frowning at Tonks. All my friends are giving her dirty looks now. I should nip this in the bud.

"I deserved that, and I asked to have that fight. Don't blame her." I say seriously, wiping the expressions on my friends' faces. Not so much on Derek however.

"You are a first year student. Tonks knows better. Or at least she should." He sniffs, "She has a month of detentions for her foolishness."

Tonks shrugs, looking unconcerned. "I'll take another week of them for hexing you if you don't watch it, Court." She grins dangerously.

I turn to Tonks, "No seriously, why? How did you manage to get a month?" I say chagrined. I had asked for that fight. What did Tonks do? Drop my unconscious body off in front of McGonagall's office?

"Sprouty caught me." Tonks says with an easy going smile, eyes sparkling in barely hidden glee as Derek makes a quick retreat away from the first year part of the Hufflepuff table.

I crane my neck towards the teacher's table and spot Professor Sprout. "Right." I say, getting up.

Tonks' iron grip on my arm stops me. "Lucas, if you're doing what I think you're doing, it's sweet, but just no. Sit down."

"If he asked for the fight, Professor Sprout should know about that before deciding on a punishment." Susan says reluctantly. Still giving Tonks a wary look.

Tonks rolls her eyes, before giving me a pointed look. "Look, if you wanna try and beg ol' Sprouty, I won't stop you." She says slowly, "Just maybe not in the Great Hall, you're making a habit…"

I wince and sit down. She's right. A time and a place. Her office would make more sense. I almost made a spectacle again. "I'll talk to her later." I acknowledge Tonks' point with a thankful nod.

Eventually lunch winds down and it's time to once again be escorted like little ducklings. This time to Transfiguration. Probably my favorite wand subject just based on my practices before Hogwarts.

Whether it was the strong belief I held in the possibility of changing one thing to another, my creative mind allowing me to easily visualize the change, or if my magic was just predisposed for the subject - I had done very well in practice. I loved Transfiguration. Conjuration and Transfiguration had transfixed not only my mind, but so many of the stories I had read in the past had expanded greatly on the subject. Conjuring up physical shields to shield from the unforgivables being the most used skill, but the ever popular Transfiguration of common objects or rubble into a pack of wolves to attack your foe had been seen in almost any transfiguration based fight in the fandom.

I was far from that level of skill, but the common practices of transfiguring needles and the like, I had no issues with. Although I intended to finish the class as one of the successful students - I did not intend to finish with less than an O in any class. I'd refrain from showing off this time.

Prodigy is a word I would see attached to my name by the new year, after I've observed and gotten settled in with life and whatever threats I can see. I've already made myself too visible as is now. Being the top student, or finishing within the top 3-4 students in class assignments would do for the moment. I couldn't put the rabbit back in the hat and remain mostly anonymous as a studious muggle born student in the background. Coupled with the seeming mix of elements from the games and the competence displayed by the professors, I would have to knuckle down on studying on my own, improving myself, and limiting these public displays I've been drawn into. Soon enough Harry Potter will draw the attention away. Then I can allow the focus on him as I study for my own reveal.

As we enter the Transfiguration classroom, I'm not surprised to see an orange tabby cat on the Professor's desk. Unlike the other classrooms so far - excepting the plain and dull History of Magic classroom. Transfiguration looked the least magical so far. A plain classroom with no decoration, several rows of students desks facing the blackboard. The curved back wall behind the professor and the moveable blackboard, holds several cabinets and cupboards. Likely holding the supplies for most Transfiguration classes. Notably they look ancient, hardly decorative, but sturdy and old. They'd probably bring a fortune in a muggle auction. It wouldn't surprise me if they were at least 500 years old.

I share a seat with Padma in this class, Su bagging Susan and breaking up the dream team, putting the Herbology duo Hannah and Neville together. I make a mental note to find a way to get Neville to see that his wand is the issue and not him, once it starts becoming obvious he'll struggle in the wand based classes.

With us Hufflepuffs being escorted around the castle and the Ravenclaws hurrying to class as a matter of course. No one is late, Professor McGonagall dramatically closes the door at 13:00 on the dot - It seems all professors share a dramatic tendency. I ponder if she can use wandless magic as a cat to close the door, or if she had it set on a timed charm. A slow mumble of confusion starts rumbling across the classroom as no Professor is in sight.

I fake my shocked gasp with the others as the cat suddenly leaps off the desk and transforms into Professor McGonagall, whose face does not betray for a moment how much she enjoys messing with us little firsties. You don't set up this little play every time otherwise.

Casually she waves her wand, turning her desk into a pig, waiting just long enough for us all to gape in astonishment, before turning it back. Staring down at us sternly, tapping her wand on her left palm.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." She doesn't raise her voice as she speaks, she doesn't have to, she has such a commanding voice, no one would be caught not paying attention. "Anyone messing around in my class, endangering another student or themselves, will leave and not come back!" Her gaze sweeps over us all. "And in such a case I will do my utmost to see you expelled, Transfiguration is not a subject to take lightly, or half heartedly, you have been warned…"

I couldn't wait for the day when I could really learn from this woman. Not the kid stuff of the first few years, but to get to study under a real Mistress of Transfiguration. Or to one day call her a colleague… Hogwarts in a few short days had already made my heart ache for the possibility of never leaving it again.

Professor McGonagall certainly lives up to her strict but fair reputation. The first hour of the double class was the spiel we were now so used to. The precautions and safety rules of the class. No one dares to breathe a word of protest however as Professor McGonagall makes us write down every rule for her class, twice - To let it properly sink in. She says, amusing me slightly as she inadvertently channels Dolores Umbridge.

As soon as we do end up attempting to transform a toothpick into a shiny needle, she walks amongst the aisles and helps students from each house in the same no nonsense tone. Awarding points to both the first Ravenclaw to successfully perform the spell (Padma), but also the first Hufflepuff. In our house only three people manage it during this first lesson. I ensure I am the third, finishing just before the end of class when it looks like no one else is going to get it.

To my amusement, Zacharias Smith was the first one to transfigure his toothpick, and he made sure to send me a superior look for it too, I sent him a puzzled look with a tilted head, like I was trying to figure out who he was, and why on earth he was staring at me. I might be having too much fun with this little rivalry.

Boy was he going to look silly once I really started blowing these eleven year olds out of the water.

The second to beat me had been Megan Jones, who looked shocked as she stared at the finished transfiguration. The congratulations from her fellow Puffs snapping her out of it. Honestly I had a hard time understanding the Duffer reputation. Having seen Tonks and Ophelia, having read about Diggory. I mean… Gryffindor had what geniuses exactly? Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan? Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown? Outside Harry and Hermione they really hadn't exactly shined. And even Harry mostly only in practicals.

I mentally refocus away from all the messes and people in the books that never got explored much and focus back in on my thoughts about our lessons.

From these first few lessons I've had. And from looking over the schedule, I've noticed it seems more - Is proper the right word? Then what's seen in the books. They barely seemed to have classes at all, with only seven subjects and flying class to go to, for example they apparently only had Potions once a week!

Here we have 3 Transfiguration classes a week, 2 doubles and one single. Same with Potions and DADA. Herbology has 1 double and two singles, Charms likewise. Astronomy has 2 doubles, and History of Magic has 2 singles. Also as first years we have the 1 single flying class a week.

In effect we've got classes from about 8-5, 9-5 -ish Monday to Friday. With Astronomy lessons from 22:00-Midnight twice a week on Wednesday and Friday. Classes start an hour later on Thursday for this reason. Even considering we have 1.5-2 hours for lunch everyday, this is a pretty normal looking school day. Not at all as empty and free time filled as the books had implied. Of course with the day ending around five each day, there were plenty of hours to socialize, study or do whatever else students do, plus the weekend being free.

My own take on this; These core subjects needed to hammer in the basics. They had the first two years only, to teach basics on safety. How to do essays/homework, how to behave in class and with spellwork, potions and plants. Because, when third year sets in with electives, these core subjects would no doubt shrink down to a double a week and not much more. Each student has by then been taught a level of proficiency to be able to handle self study outside of the double core classes.

All currently hypotheses of mine, but I had a feeling this is how it was laid out. Because it made sense. Especially considering Hogwarts did offer more electives then the books had suggested. I had taken a peek at an upper year's course suggestions, and there were several more available.

Healing was an elective only available 6th year and up, and was taught by Madame Pomfrey as an example. But there were also other third year electives, and some starting fifth year. Dumbledore even offered an Alchemy elective! One almost never taken up on, as the students need to achieve an O in Potions, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Herbology on their OWLs to qualify.

As we finish Transfiguration I'm still thinking about electives, wondering what I'm going to do about those, except the obvious. Three will be off the board soon enough. I'm interrupted in my thoughts by Neville accidentally bumping into me, looking pale.

"Nev, hey what's up? You alright?" I ask, looking around me, but I don't spot any Slytherins or anything unusual. Just our regular Puff group and attached minder.

"We have flying lessons next." He says his face paling even further, he looks at me with panicked eyes. "I'm clumsy, Lucas! I can't be fifty feet in the air!"

"We'll all be there, I'm sure Susan or Hannah have plenty of experience with flying." I say soothingly. Looking at the girls to back me up.

Susan grimaces, looking away as Hannah whistles innocently.

"Seriously, both of you?" I ask, they grew up in magical households, how has no one learned how to use a broom!?

"We're not terrible, not really." Hannah hems and haws. "We can float just fine. It's… The up and down parts that go wonky sometimes." Oh, so none of the important bits, I think sarcastically.

"Hannah crashed into the Abbot greenhouses five times." Susan volunteers this helpful information, from the look Hannah is giving her, Susan had her fair share too.

"You are so not helping right now." I deadpan, seeing Neville looking ready to faint. It wouldn't surprise me if he's actively trying to induce it to avoid going to the lesson. Unfortunately we have them all year, so it's hardly a solution.

"Neville, don't worry, I mean I've never been on a broom before either, I mean as a muggleborn the idea of being a hundred feet in the air with just a stick in between you and the ground is just - " I stop before finishing the sentence, palming my face, way to go, Lucas! That sure comforted him!

Indeed, Neville looks more likely to hit the ground any second then soon leave it on a broom.

"If it helps Longbottom, I am an experienced flier, and my father says Madame Hooch is a skilled instructor. Nothing will befall you in her presence." Ernest Macmillan says, giving Neville an earnest pat on the back.

He then turns to us reprovingly, "I say, you don't know how to give someone a pep talk at all, do you?"

"Not really it seems," I acknowledge, "Thanks, Macmillan." I give the boy an honest smile, Neville had gained some color to his cheeks after Macmillan gave such high praise for our flying instructor.

"We're all Hufflepuffs!" He says proudly, looking way too pleased at the small thank you. What is it with all these pureblood and half-blood kids? Do magicals not know what positive reinforcement is!?

I check the time, "We still have about forty five minutes until we need to be at the lesson, what say we head down to the lake and just sit and chill until then?" I tell Neville and my friends.

Amelia clears her throat pointedly. And I hang my head a little. How do I keep forgetting they're there? This whole group thing is getting mildly annoying and crimping my style. I'll be glad when the week is done and we'll be expected to get around on our own.

"Sorry, I forgot we can't just wander off." I apologize. Susan and Hannah both turning wide puppy dog eyes on our fifth year prefect for me.

Amelia rolls her eyes, an amused smile blossoming on her face, "At least you didn't just walk away this time, Greenwood." She looks around the group, "If no one objects, I might as well take you down to the lake, it will be an easy walk to the flying lesson from there."

She chuckles as there's some excited mumbling amongst the firsties. Coming forward and patting Neville on the head. "Let's go then, and Longbottom, don't worry. No one's died during flying lessons since the 1600's."

Neville looks somewhat less terrified, I keep my mouth shut, wanting to quip about how no one has ever died during a lesson would have been a much better answer for a school.

Then again considering what monstrosities are apparently in the upper level greenhouses, and the fun with the Acromantula colony in the forbidden forest. It's perhaps surprising there haven't been more deaths.

We all spend an enjoyable thirty minutes sitting by the lake, Amelia teaching us all the warming charm as it is getting a bit nippy out here in the Scottish Highlands in September.

Without Gryffindor versus Slytherin rivalries, and with a supportive Hufflepuff cast. Neville does not crash. Although he barely hovers two feet off the ground and no words from Madame Hooch gets him to fly any higher today. He's definitely going to be a work in progress over the year.

As for myself, I have no problems willing the broom to my hand, it's the same basis as spell casting after all. As for flying, I don't care how sitting on the broom feels like you're on a comfortable seat, how there's charms for comfort, grip and safety and all that jazz. Once I look down and see that the ground is quite far away, and I have a stick between me and it… Well I might pass this class, but I'll never willingly fly a broom if there's another way to travel.

As for quidditch, hah! Over my dead body!

After flying class I beg off going to dinner. It takes some effort to convince my friends to go on without me, I really shouldn't be so attached already and neither should they. Maybe there's some magic surrounding the Hogwarts Express that just solidifies friendships immediately.

I'm probably overthinking again, we're eleven and spent close to nine hours together on the train, for any eleven year old that basically is best friends for life right there.

Knowing I literally walk by the kitchens to get to my common room, missing dinner isn't an issue. I can easily grab a snack, or a four course meal when I return to the sett.

For now, I have something much more important to do.

Opening the dark wooden doors inlaid with the Hogwarts crest sends shivers down my spine. There's just this heavy feeling in the air, like magic is more prominent in the air. As it should be, for the world's greatest repository of magical knowledge.

The Hogwarts library is even grander than I could have ever imagined. Upon entry I'm greeted with a grand domed ceiling, barely visible. It's so high up. The giant round room is covered in bookshelves almost all the way up, three whole floors of them. The wood itself is so ancient and dark, yet polished almost to a sheen, the ornate crest on top of every shelf holding a motif explaining its general subject matter.

The restricted section is not hard to see, the entire right side of the bottom floor of the library is sectioned off. Ancient wrought metal gates barring entry. The Hogwarts crest proudly displayed not only on the two gates - one at the entrance of the library, one by the librarian's desk- but on the gold plated floor to ceiling bars wrapping around the rest of the restricted section. I don't know about anyone else, but I can feel the thrum of magic in these bars, especially over the gates.

There would be no just walking in there, invisibility cloak or not. It was properly warded and protected as befitting a repository - no doubt full of ancient magic and dark arts.

As I walk across the emerald green carpeted floor - No doubt a way to lower the noise level. I keep looking around me, in awe of the sheer amount of knowledge. Even if I skipped every class for the next seven years and just lived here, I wouldn't get through half of it.

Interspersed here and there amongst the beautiful ancient shelves, there were desks and tables for study. All empty for now, I have no doubt that those like me, the eager, magic hungry students, would soon fill them after dinner. Each desk or table had a small stationary lamp to provide light. Much needed as the entire library was eerily ill lit, small floating crystal orbs providing a small amount of light floating over the aisles of bookshelves. For obvious reasons there were no candles or lanterns to be seen. Perhaps there was so much magic gathered in this one place, that fireproof wards and the like just didn't take completely?

I noticed Irma Pince, the school librarian at her desk, placed on a round raised platform at the opposite end of the entrance. The slight elevation gave her a complete view of not only the entrance, but every study desk or table on the first floor that was not hidden in a nook amongst the aisles. Surrounding her desk to the sides were several tall mirrors, periodically I could see them flash by different sights of the library, one seemed wholly dedicated to the restricted section by the constant flashes of bars I could spot.

I wandered past her desk as she gave me a gimlet glare, I returned a polite nod. This was one adult I could not piss off at any cost. My access to the library was too important.

Behind her was a caged room, the gate not locked, I could see stacks and stacks of Daily Prophets, I read the plaque by the gate, not surprised to find that Hogwarts library has the only complete collection of every Prophet ever printed. No wonder it is in a caged area right behind the librarian. No doubt they did not want to lose a priceless hundreds years old paper to some grubby child.

I was more surprised to find that they also have similar copies in there of every other known British publication, plus several international ones. Although I couldn't help being bemused to know Potions and Transfiguration monthlies shared space with Witch Weekly and Quidditch monthlies. The last two hardly needed saving for posterity. Quidditch was in my own humble opinion a ridiculous sport and held much to large prominence amongst wizardkind.

My discomfort on a broom has nothing to do with my dislike of Quidditch..

Well… Perhaps a little. The whole snitch and seekers rules held most of my distaste. It's ludicrous to have a game possibly last days, just as it is pointless and a waste of time to show up to one that will last five minutes.

Imagine that as a professional athlete? Or even a school athlete. You train all year. Get hyped up for the big game. Then the seeker sees the snitch and catches it five minutes in before you've even done anything. That Quidditch career still feel great? Accomplished so much for all that training?

Bah, I'm in the best magical library in the world, and I'm wasting time wondering about Quidditch!

I longingly look around me, I won't have time really to properly explore until the weekend, so get what I need and find myself somewhere to hide and read where no one's going to Hufflepuff me.

Madam Pince eyes me distastefully as I continue to appear in front of her desk, depositing book after book. I take care to put them down gently, not wanting her to invent a reason that I'm brutalizing the books - and kick me out.

Finally I have collected what I believe I'll need for the next few months of hardcore studying, my way of soon creating free time for years to come.

Madam Pince purses her lips, "17 books is an unusually large amount to borrow, Mister..?" She gives me a penetrating look. Eyes sharp.

I nod with a polite smile, "Greenwood, Madam. There are no rules on what amount of books you can borrow at the same time, is there?"

She grimaces slightly, "...No."

"Then I'd like to borrow all of these!" I say politely, not showing off any cheer. I don't want to piss her off at any point. More than borrowing many many books would anyway.

"History of Magic, Astronomy… and… Arithmancy…Divination… Muggle studies?" She reads over the titles, growing more severe as she does so. "You are a first year student." She finishes with a look demanding immediate explanation.

I must learn where these people perfect their glares, Pince and Snape both must have taken classes for it, they have exquisite glares, if I was really eleven I'd no doubt be running right now.

"I like to read ahead." I say innocently.

"You don't take electives until third year." She replies snappily.

"Far far ahead." I say sweetly. "Is there a problem, am I not allowed?"

Madam Pince looks like she's sucked a dozen lemons, taking her time before reluctantly answering me. "There are no rules against it."

From her face I wager she believes there definitely should be. Yet, she starts processing the books. Placing them on a metal scale on her desk one at a time.

I take the time to explore her desk and the many gadgets she has at her disposal. The metal scale seems to be connected to a hovering beautifully plumed quill that is writing down the book titles - as well as my name, on a large golden decorated Rolodex type device. It looks positively ancient, and must be where they store the information on who has borrowed what. I see it moving slowly as book titles and my name gets written on the parchment attached to it.

"What is that?" I ask, Pointing to a silver tuning rod attached to what appears to be a globe, but not of the earth, a round map of the library itself, sitting just to the left of Madam Pince on her desk. "I mean if I'm allowed to ask?" I hurriedly add.

Madam Pince glares at me, age lines more visible as her mouth thins in displeasure. "That detects any magic used in the library, If I catch you at it, you will not return."

Awesome, I can't help but think. With the mirrors showing flashing images of the library going through every view every few seconds, the wards on the restricted section, and magical gadgets like this, the library was well protected. I approve. I don't want anything or anyone hurting my … Everyone's books.

I wonder if the charms are attached to Filch or the house elves or something, or just Hogwarts wards when Madam Pince isn't in the Library. Surely she couldn't watch over it for 24 hours a day. I'm interrupted in my musings as Madam Pince speaks up again, having finished processing my books.

"If there is even the slightest tear, smudge, breadcrumb or defect when you return these books…" She says ominously, rising up to loom over me. " I'll transfigure you to a playwizard magazine and put you away in that section for all to enjoy!"

That…. Is probably the most terrifying threat I have ever been given. Forget Snape. This woman is a true sadist. Also, they have a playwizard section!?

"There's a section for that here!?" I ask, incredulously. That's just a bad idea all over… Who would want to borrow a used naughty mag? Even with magic that's just… Ew.

Madam Pince gives me a dirty look, I feel somewhat offended, She brought it up in the first place. Eventually she answers me, looking none too happy to be doing so. "There is … It is one of the… Many… Decisions made by Headmaster Phineus Nigellus Black once upon a time, that have never been reversed." Her disgusted look encapsulates her thoughts on that matter, before she glares at me again, straightening her back. "Don't even dare to try and take anything from there, the section is protected by an age line." She hisses.

"I'm eleven!" I say, offended for real now, what kind of pervert does she think I am?

She sneers, "You never know with muggleborns." She continues haughtily, "Always touching what they shouldn't, acting like ancient texts are notebooks."

It's going to get tiring real fast to hear about how barbaric I am, somehow I remain polite, even as I note down mentally to never seek this one out for any kind of help. "How do you know I'm a muggleborn?" I ask.

She looks at me like I'm stupid. Before speaking slowly, "As the curator of the largest magical library in the world, of course I know the genealogy of the students that attend here. Greenwood is not a pureblood name."

"You have pureblood genealogy books here?" How on earth did any pureblood family allow that? Family trees and such seemed too important to let just anyone go have a gander at.

"Don't get any ideas, boy. They are in the restricted section, that section can not be entered by anyone not a pureblood for at least two generations." She scoffs, "Do you think just anyone can access such information."

I swear I could hear a silent dunderhead there at the end. Yet I persist, this is all interesting information, even if not necessarily something I can ever use. "How does it detect you're pure enough?" Do pureblood only wards exist? In that case could you make an anti-pureblood ward? That would be incredibly useful as an anti-death eater ward. They were majorly purebloods after all.

Madam Pince looks like she's smelling something foul as she answers me clippedly, "Blood magic."

"Phineas Nigellus Black, again?" I ask, nodding at her accompanying nod. Blood magic was definitely illegal. Although I'm sure if I read the law it would specifically outline already placed blood wards as perfectly legal. Purebloods got to keep their special privileges after all.

Our conversation is interrupted as the silver tuning rod lets out a gong-like sound, the globe rolling in place until the rod settles on somewhere on the second floor by my guess, from my limited view. Madam Pince immediately discards my presence and taps one of the mirrors with her wand. Quickly finding the view of a seventh year Ravenclaw at a study table, a copying spell in progress. I guess it wasn't completely empty after all, I think. Another tap of her wand, and she steps through the mirror, the glass rippling in her wake. That is honestly so damn cool! I can't help but nerd out about cool magic.

I start sliding my books into my mokeskin pouch, as there is no way I'd fit them all in my bookbag. - note to self, investigate space expansion charms - and I don't want to be here when Madam Pince returns with that doomed student. Or without…

I give one last longing look at the library, knowing without a doubt that I will spend a lot of time here for the next 6 years at least.

Then I'm off. I have one place to investigate as a possible secret location for my own private study room. If it was here, then awesome. If it didn't exist or was in use, then I'd have to settle for reading in my own dorm for now. As much as Hufflepuffs will allow me to anyway.

I head to the base of the Defense against the Dark Arts tower. Going up a floor, admiring the almost amber coloured walls, whatever material was used around here certainly made things look pretty. The gloss catching my reflection it's so polished. There are no paintings here, just a few statues and a display case featuring two miniature ships at sea, fighting a battle, mini flashes of spell light racing across decks as the mini pirates fight on a loop. I glance at the golden plaque. It commemorates a Hogwarts professor, who in 1805 took part in the battle of Trafalgar. He protected the ICW and the statue of secrecy by fighting and defeating magical mercenaries that had been hired to destroy the British muggles at sea, hired by a rogue dark wizard. Probably also code for - And we obliviated the fuck out of those muggles.

"Wicked! Way to go Professor… Potter? Seriously?" I whisper to myself. The display case is somewhat off to the side and behind the staircase up to the third floor of the DADA tower so perhaps Harry never found it? Surely it would have been mentioned if his great great great something granddad had fought pirates!

I shake my head, bemused. If I ever do talk to Harry, this is definitely something I would have to show him. I continue down the corridor, and step around a bend in the wall. Finding… just a dead end. A wall with absolutely nothing there. Just a window on the sidewall bathing this empty space in light. That's slightly disappointing.

I narrow my eyes in thought. The look of Hogwarts did seem a mix of all the games and the movies, although in different ways, these amber walls I remember, but they weren't in this corridor in the game... I had noticed the names like Wildsmith that I recognized from Hogwarts Legacy. Name's like Haywood that I recognized from Hogwarts Mystery. It should be here.

"Revelio!" I cast, using my wand, as I have not yet managed the wandless cast. Nothing appears. Not a single trace. I start pacing. Thinking it through. What hides something so effectively that no one can find it.

The Undercroft had been mentioned to be hidden in such a way as to not be easy to find. Despite the fact it had held such an obviously suspicious entrance, one easily found at that. Perhaps the fact the player was invited in, played a part. Was it protected by the Fidelius charm? Ominous Gaunt had certainly acted possessive of it, like perhaps he was a secret keeper. Yet how then could I even think or imagine it here?

Just as I focus again on the wall, thinking on the entrance to the Undercroft, pondering how it's hidden. The clock appears before me, like a veil has been lifted. Was it enough just me knowing the location like that and reasoning it out? The charm recognized that I'm aware and is letting me in? Or is it not a Fidelius charm? Or am I now the secret keeper? Or does someone else hold the secret?

I would have to test it at a later date. Find a way to lure someone to this corner, without seeming like I invited them or told them to. And then I'd find out if the entrance can be seen again, or not. If I simply had penetrated a ward that now has fallen. Or if it is actually the Fidelius charm.

The floor to ceiling statuesque clock in front of me is beautiful, I try tapping my wand on it, thinking open, the front symbols all move slowly after I do, a heavy thunk coming through as they settle into a new position. The front of the clock pops open just by an inch. Slowly and carefully I pry it open, and step inside, closing the doorway behind me.

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Authors Note:

OC's are for the most part for flavor and to make the classes and surrounding seem bigger then the five or less students canon went with. Most won't even have speaking roles. Ophelia being the exception right now but she'll graduate in a year anyway.

The library restricted section having dark arts and shit and being able to be accessed pretty easily anyway was always ridiculous to me. There will be no sneaking in here in this world.

I got tired of seeing SI that always crack the magic code immediately and start firing off Patronuses as an eleven year old and such. A normal guy, will probably as an adult be better than a bunch of kids. But it doesn't make him a magic savant. He'll have to work hard for every bit.

He's not going to be outdueling the likes of Lucius Malfoy at eleven. SI or not, the magical stamina and power isn't there. He'll have to learn to fight sneaky and with unconventional magic. 

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Some different Povs here. This will happen from time to time in the story. It won't always be just Lucas' view. Although do note it's an SI story, so what happens in a different pov is not something he actually knows about.

Although obviously some things happening at Hogwarts he might hear a rumor about or a second or third hand account.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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The stars shone down on them from the enchanted ceiling in the grand ballroom of the manor. The night sky was pleasantly dark and inviting, the night being the preferred habitat of most of those he'd invited tonight.

The cost had been exorbitant to replicate the Hogwarts great hall enchantments, well worth it in the end, galleons were only a useful tool - the impression of power and wealth so much more useful on weak minded fools.

The hall was resplendent in enchanted ice crawling up the walls, bathing them all in a muted blue light. The Faerie wrought tables and chairs changing color and shape to match the wintry decorations of the night on their own. The ballroom floor - one large iridescent snowflake, drawing looks from the guests. Narcissa had outdone herself, he had felt in a wintry mood lately.

He tapped his flute of deepwine idly with one ring adorned finger. Letting his eyes roam around the room. The classical music suffused the air, mournfully played by the ghostly nuns of the Glastonbury Abbey - hideously expensive, well worth the cost however. Not that he had any appreciation for their musical skills, although the wizarding world upper crust consensus was that they were exquisite - as believed by his wife, and he rarely argued with Narcissa. His appreciation came from the calculating look from some of his guests when they realized he had managed to secure the most hard to get and expensive entertainment for their little soiree, on such short notice.

They book performances over seven years in advance currently. He had booked them a week ago.

Most of the guests had children off at Hogwarts, like he himself, having sent Draco off just a few days ago now. Also, most of them were likely Death Eaters, or affiliated. Not that he could say for sure… Their master had always demanded a certain paranoid level of compartmentalization. Lucius himself only knew for sure of Crabbe, Goyle, and Narcissa. It had helped many of their kind stay out of Azkaban in the end - proving their master right, even in his downfall. Of course they all knew the Lestranges were of their ilk with the fools being caught in such a foolish endeavor. He suspected many of those here tonight bore the mark, and even had some proof that implicated a few.

The Lestranges only knowing of each other and Barty Crouch Jr for sure, had helped them all. Especially once already convicted Death Eaters were forced under Veritaserum after the war - an attempt to root them all out. Something which failed spectacularly thanks to their Master's foresight.

Crabbe and Goyle, having been allies with him for years, never got caught, and he'd extracted magical oaths from them either way that would trump Veritaserum. He had that process vigorously tested. Likewise, he and Narcissa had exchanged magical vows making it impossible for them to implicate each other.

Speaking of Goyle, Lucius raised an eyebrow as the hulking man suddenly appeared at his side. People always underestimated the man. He'd gone through Hogwarts barely passing his classes, into a ministry job in the archives fit for a low level peon, only his pure blood allowing him a position at all. Yet, Lucius knew the man was fiendishly clever, an expert in the Imperius curse, and so good at sinking into the background that he knew more about the Ministry than anyone else in that building. It was doubtful many of their kind still resided as employees of the Ministry, making him even more valuable. There was a reason why Lucius had tied their families together as allies after all, even as their enemies and allies alike looked at Crabbe and Goyle as bodyguards or muscle, even the Ministry. Plebeians.

"Karkaroff did not show up." Goyle muttered quietly, lips not moving. To all and sundry 'the bodyguard' was simply standing next to Lucius, waiting at his pleasure.

Lucius did not answer immediately, beyond a downward tilt of his head. It was a pity Igor denied his invitation. The Durmstrang headmaster could have been a useful contact - despite rumors that claimed he was a Death Eater that had talked. The Ministry was unfortunately competent enough to keep all the Death Eater trials sealed beyond even his ability to penetrate. Lucius would have liked to have the man here, to take the pulse on him, feel him out. Perhaps the man knew this - and avoided the invitation.

Say what you will of the likes of Barty Crouch and Amelia Bones. But incompetent was never a word used. If they had enough evidence to squeeze Karkaroff, Lucius had a feeling the man might have indeed talked. It certainly had been odd that he had been in custody by the end - and walked away into a position at Durmstrang.

"Cowardice or guilt." Lucius said out loud coldly. Tapping his gilded cane briefly on the marble flooring. "Spread it discreetly."

Goyle disappeared, only giving a brief nod to show that he understood. By the end of the night, everyone here will wonder what Karkaroff's loyalties were. And the man would realize that an invitation to Malfoy Manor was not something to snub. No doubt he'd be able to wring concessions out of the slippery headmaster for the chance to weasel his way back in - once the rumors started.

Durmstrang, like Hogwarts. Held many secrets useful to those not afraid to use them. Lucius feared very few things, and his hands were ideal for wielding both power and secrets.

"Husband, the last of the guests have arrived and begun to mingle." The beautiful and enchanting lady of the house arrived at his side, and as always took his breath away - as she appeared like a stunning vision before him. He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, earning a coy smile from his wife.

Narcissa looked resplendent in a liquid silver dress, hugging her curves perfectly, the illusion of flowing liquid drawing eyes to her beauty, as befitting Lady Malfoy. Her hair set as a complicated crown, white sapphires adorning the small silver tiara keeping her hair together.

"My lady, as always you are a vision not even the Faerie could dream of." He stepped

forward and delivered a chaste kiss, feeling her lips curve into a smile. A pity they weren't alone.

A dainty hand on his chest reminded him of this fact. Narcissa's eyes were filled with amusement, and a hint of promise. "Husband, as always you have a silver tongue, perhaps put it to use on our guests, before the black widow snags another husband." Narcissa's eyes slide to the dance floor.

Lucius followed her gaze, not surprised to find Isabella Zabini. The olive skinned, green eyed, sultry beauty had just recently lost her sixth husband. She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world, and consequently did not lack in admirers, even with the unfortunate happenings around her love life. Lucius personally thought she couldn't compare to his darling Narcissa. And said as much, earning himself a heated look that promised much.

Narcissa moved to mingle, with one last lingering kiss to his cheek, as Lucius pondered Isabella Zabini. He suspected she was one of the few female Death Eaters. The woman was too competent to not be. Even with Lucius' resources and network he could never prove it conclusively. More so, even with six husband's dying under suspicious circumstances - leaving their fortunes to her. He could not find any evidence of her hand in their deaths, or of her hiring anyone. It spoke of skill, in subterfuge and in magic. Lucius was not used to his information gathering skills digging up nothing.

He moved, now. Seeing Narcissa on the way to intercept Zabini, his wife was able to read his mind as usual. He himself moved to grab the arm of her last dance partner. Arcturus Rookwood, the brother of Augustus Rookwood, their comrade in Azkaban.

"I would not suggest a dalliance with the black widow, Arcturus." He spoke dryly, as he moved the man towards a group of their peers.

Arcturus grinned, "Lucius, I wouldn't have married her, a quick taste however…" He allowed himself to be directed without issue. The man was nowhere near as competent as Augustus, which suited Lucius just fine. It made him more controllable.

"And what would Anastasia say?" Lucius wondered out loud, an unimpressed look on his face. The sanctity of a wizards and witch marriage was still a tradition no proper pureblood should toss aside. Anastasia Rookwood nee Burke was a scarily competent witch, one to tread lightly around.

Arcturus laughed, ugly and short, like the man himself. Lucius held back a sneer, he'd never much liked the Rookwoods, but with the competent Augustus' arrest, he was almost certain the rest of them were Death Eaters as well. So luring them into his circle was unfortunately important.

Arcturus leered at him, "Anastasia is the one who asked me to dance with her, Lucius."

Lucius shook his head briefly, some of the depravity of his comrades surprised him still. Personally he'd never do something so crass when he already held the jewel of the wizarding world in his arms. They arrive not too far from the ghostly orchestra, by the tables laden with food. A group consisting of Yaxley, Rosier, Nott the elder, Crabbe and Selwyn chatting together.

Lucius greeted his honored guests, his eyes briefly meeting Crabbe's, Legilimency used with the lightest touch to tell the man where he wanted this discussion to go.

"Arcturus, you looking to offload your fortune on Zabini, eh?" Corban Yaxley chuckled, before sending a nod to Lucius, "Seems Lucius saved you some money, and a neck." He jeered.

"I wouldn't have married her, Corban, just a taste is all." Arcturus defended himself.

"That is a poisoned chalice you'd be drinking from, youth today, no sense!" Thaddeus Nott scoffed with disgust. Being 132, Nott saw them all as children, not that he dared say such a thing to Lucius. In their Masters absence, Lucius had quickly made himself indispensable to any of their dark minded families.

Should their master return as he promised he could, he would find Lucius had made allies and connections for the cause. And should he… Not.

Then Lucius had the world in the palm of his hands.

"I'd keep a bezoar in my pocket if I just got to drink from that chalice." Arcturus stuck to his position with a positively filthy leer.

"Isn't she on the board at Hogwarts now?" Crabbe asked dully, moving the conversation along.

"Yes, I suppose she is, due to her last paramour being on the board, before that unfortunate apparation accident." Cassius Selwyn drawled sarcastically.

"That makes what now? Three of ours, three of Dumbledore's and two neutrals?" Elias Rosier asked shrewdly, cold luminous eyes on Lucius.

The Rosier's had apparently always been an exceptionally loyal family to their lord, apparently - as he only knew of them for certainty after they were put down, the Rosier's sacrificed several members to the cause. And now the rest, they were all his. Lucius would bet quite a lot that every single one of those that were of age by the end of the war, were marked. Too bad none of them compared to Evan Rosier, damn Moody for that!

Lucius smiled thinly, responding to Elias, "Four of ours soon, actually."

"One of the neutrals flipped?" Corban enquired, a surprised expression on his face. The Hogwarts board has been deadlocked between the dark and light for decades. Most magicals don't remember their relevance anymore as they have been completely ineffectual in achieving anything for most of Dumbledore's reign, due to said deadlocking.

"One of them is pondering seriously about giving me their seat on the board." Lucius said with a degree of smugness. He was owed that at least. For over a decade he had slowly worked the man and his family over. Subtle potions to lessen their faculties, inserted neighbors and co-workers to their family to slowly talk them around to his viewpoint, even an imperiused granddaughter to plead his case as for the good of Hogwarts. Not that he had done any of those things himself of course. No, there were no traces of his involvement.

He hadn't even used his own money.

Sadly one could not just simply Imperius or curse a prolific wizard like a Hogwarts board member to step down. Someone like Rufus Scrimgeour would eat you for lunch if you made it that easy for him.

So many of their less connected allies had been destroyed by the Ministry in their zeal to clean up after the war. Bagnold certainly had earned that withering curse in the end. Most of the Death Eaters he suspected of being such, had avoided gaol. Yet many of their tertiary allies and suppliers were now completely eradicated.

"If Lucius is even mentioning it, it's because it's a certainty already." Thaddeus scoffed, a calculating look on his wrinkled face. "So… A majority… No one's had that since I was a lad." He mused out loud.

And it was a slim majority, as the neutrals generally could be counted on to wait for bribes before making a decision, and therefore abhorred any decision that benefited one side too much. With a 4-3 dark majority. Lucius now only needed one of them to abstain to win a vote. Hardly a hard thing to achieve. A tie would default to the chairmanship's decision, and the position he would be taking over, of course, is the one held by the chairman. A simple vote to let him retain the chair would be simple to arrange, even if he would have to bribe the neutrals for it. They'd barter a large fee for it, of course. Then after that, they'd be his for the picking. Slowly of course, but eventually. All his.

"So Dumbledore can finally get the sack?" Corban asked, a cruel look passing over him.

"Don't be stupid, boy! Like a simple one seat majority can sack the sanctimonious poof!" Thaddeus barked out, a gnarled hand reached out and poked Corban Yaxley in the shoulder, the man sending a deadly glare back, not amused at the moniker, nor the poke.

To sack the headmaster needed a unanimous vote. Which Lucius would never get. So that was out of the question. They would have to work around Dumbledore. While he worked to work around them. It would be an amusing game. Politics, the game that never ends. Lucius admitted he had grown fond of the games in these past years.

"Binns." Crabbe grunted out. Stopping the squabble that was brewing and focusing everyone back on the conversation. So overlooked, so useful. Lucius tilts his head slightly, catching the amused look on Crabbe's face before he turns dull again.

Lucius smoothly took over, "With a majority we can certainly afford to make some slight changes, especially with the recent uptick in public support."

"You're talking about the articles started because of that mudblood." Cassius pointed out looking disgusted.

Lucius personally didn't care one whit about someone else's blood status over whether or not they were a useful tool - for him. Granted, he was of course of superior blood, but it was his superior mind that mattered. Those of lesser blood usually made for superior tools, as they could so easily be discarded after. "The articles have started to sway the Wizengamot towards reintroducing wizarding traditions by law." He laid out with a reproaching look at Cassius.

Cassius sneered, "You can't honestly be speaking up for that filthy mudblood, Lucius!"

"Cassius. That language is beneath someone of our stature." Lucius replied coldly, everyone watching the two of them raptly. "And I would speak up for a muggle, if the damn beast could help us push through legislation I would have called impossible but a few months ago."

"He's right Cassius, could you have imagined someone like Longbottom or Bones, agreeing with our position a month ago?" Elias chuckled darkly. "I hardly believe it now. And I've had discussions with the two bints over the language of the Magical Tradition Preservation Act."

"We must strike while the iron is hot. It's for this reason I convinced you to have all of our children treat the Greenwood child with cool respect, for now. Showcasing to the light side and neutrals that we could be accommodating with muggleborns - if they were the proper sort." Lucius reminded them. The magical world rarely moved quickly on anything, let alone legislation. Yet for once, all sides of the Wizengamot found themselves in agreement on the basic gist of things. Only the negotiation of particulars remaining.

Even Dumbledore wasn't interfering. Lucius was curious as to what the wily politician could possibly gain by allowing this, but he had not found a logical reason yet.

"If you want me to kiss mudbloods…" Cassius muttered mulishly, trailing off at the looks the others were giving him.

"Don't curse them, and act polite in public. It costs us nothing right now, Cassius." Lucius said coldly. Willing the fool to understand. "If we manage to pass this legislation as well as affect change at Hogwarts…"

"We'll finally have the foot in the door." Elias said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Once ancient magical ceremonies and history are back on the table, we can open up the question of rituals and family magic, maybe loosen some of the restrictions on family artifacts pushed through by Crouch and Dumbledore at the end of the war."

"And all set in motion by a stupid mudblood and a gutter reporter, neither having any idea what they're really talking about and managing to get the public on-board - something we've failed at doing for decades." Thaddeus shook his head, amazement warring with disgust.

"You see now, why it is important we act as one in this matter." Lucius intoned seriously, "Any of us, anyone at all, dragging the public or the Wizengamot's mind back to more troubled times - could lose us the whole gambit."

Eyes turned to Cassius who looked away in annoyance, but allowed a short nod, to show he understood. Lucius doubted that, but he had his ways to ensure compliance. He would have to send Narcissa to talk to the man's wife and sister. He'd end up complying. Witches could be absolutely horrendously deadly.

He'd duel Moody, Scrimgeour and Bones over Narcissa, Bellatrix and Anastasia any day. The worst the likes of Scrimgeour would do was kill him or feed him to a dementor. In the privacy of his mind he could readily admit that soul sucking demons had nothing on his wife in a rage.

"Let's talk specifics, Lucius. What's your plan?" Thaddeus queried.

Lucius smiled, all eyes in their circle on him, he knew Narcissa was already working the room, as was Goyle in his own way. This get together was certainly coming into his favor.

"Well, we'll start with Hogwarts…"

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A wizard paced at the top of a hill in Wiltshire, overlooking the Malfoy Manor estate, uncaring of the wind ruffling his mane of tawny hair, his yellowish eyes focused behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. He moved with a slight limp, it was his reminder from time past, to never take anything for granted, and to practice constant vigilance.

He huffed, annoyed at himself. Last thing he needed was Alastor thinking he's been infected with his level of paranoia. Half the Auror corps fired spells first and asked questions later because of him. Then again that half is also still alive. Mostly.

Still… No need to tell the man that.

"The cream of wizard society… Rotten to the core." Kingsley Shacklebolt muttered quietly from behind him. There was really no need to keep their voices down. The hill was so laden with protections and charms, You-know-who himself would have needed ten minutes to break through. Besides, Lucius Malfoy no doubt knew they were there anyway. Slippery bugger. Not a single piece of evidence to ever tie him to the Death Eaters. The familial connection between Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius' wife Narcissa was the only connection. Hardly evidence that.

Yet, Rufus knew. He'd attended enough balls with the bastard, enough ministry events. There's not that much difference between dancing and a duel when it comes to body cues. Rufus knew he'd exchanged spells with the bastard hiding behind a mask, and here he was partying it up. Not once since the war ended had the ponce had to answer even a question about it.

Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror and veteran of the last war, survivor of two duels with you-know-who himself, turned around and surveyed his small team.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the tall black man and team lead, was watching through the omnioculars. Noting down the name of every guest stupid enough to leave through the gate and apparate instead of leaving by floo. Rufus thought the man would make a damn good Head Auror one day. If he got his head out of Dumbledore's ass first. Kingsley was one of the finest duelists he's ever met, absolutely savage with a wand, but Kingsley would need to better his security and find more secure messaging spells if he wanted Rufus to not find out he was reporting to Dumbledore after he reported to Rufus.

Williamson, Dawlish and Jones were all decent Aurors. Brought along in case any spellfire was to be exchanged tonight, and to monitor the long range surveillance spells for any fluctuations in the wards suggesting dark artifacts were being moved. Or that was the official reason that Rufus wrote down for Bones anyway. Usually a two man team was enough for long distance surveillance, there wasn't much risk anymore. Rufus liked to keep an eye on anything Malfoy threw together on principle, however.

Mostly he put together the team because he wanted to track out all the ways these fools messed up. Williamson reported to Malfoy, Dawlish was so far up Fudge's ass, Rufus wasn't sure the man was even being paid to betray his oath. And Jones of course was another fool witch suckling off Dumbledore, barking up the wrong tree there, Jones. He thought amused.

It was an unfortunate reality. The Ministry had been mostly purged after the troubles. Yet some remained with divided loyalties. Rufus preferred to keep an eye on them and track their messages, learn all their little hideouts and drop boxes. And so when things kicked off again, he'd know every little hidey hole.

It was easy enough to tack them onto the mission, it was a routine mission really, one the Ministry Aurors performed quite often. The surveillance of suspected Death Eaters.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not going to forget about any of these bastards, even if they hadn't an iota of proof to collar them with. One day they'd slip up. And Rufus would be right there, wand ready. Laws had changed, Bagnold, bless the old bat - had pushed them through before she died, and let that buffoon Fudge into the position. Somehow. Something still didn't smell right about all that to Rufus.

Rufus smirked grimly as he watched the Yaxleys leave from the gate, his glasses were charmed enough that he didn't need any omnioculars.

This time around, Veritaserum was legal for capital crimes or for being caught using an unforgivable. No blue bloods would be able to slink away because they wore masks this time. If they've been caught in the act, Rufus gets to ferret out their deepest little secrets. Oh, how he wished he could start right now with bloody Lucius Malfoy!

"Anyone new?" Rufus finally asked. Tearing his eyes away from the admittedly beautiful estate.

"Rumors from the usual informants claimed Zabini would be attending. If she did, she didn't come by the gate." Kinglsey responded in his calm baritone.

Rufus scoffed, turning back to the estate, one hand behind his back. The other of course, always ready to snap out his wand. "The black widow is clever, she'd never join a party like this and be caught by a surveillance team." That didn't mean she hadn't of course. And either way Williamson would report that they were watching for that connection. Keep Malfoy on his toes.

"The only names I've written down so far are Travers, Yaxley, Flint, and Carrow."

"The dumb muscle, Lucius no doubt sent them out this way as a wave to us. Cheeky bastard." Rufus muttered, annoyed, but not surprised. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't slip up easily.

"I checked with Crouch at international before we left, no international floo tickets had been purchased or scheduled for tonight. Igor Karkaroff is unlikely to have been in attendance." Kinglsey continued to report calmly. Eyes never taken off the omnioculars.

Rufus snapped his fingers, pointing at Kingsley, "You three pay attention! That's the initiative I like to see in my people!" He barked to the three lemmings he'd brought along. "Karkaroff, eh? I wouldn't have thought that cold snake would have dared to miss out on something like this. If nothing else to avoid the rumors…"

"Perhaps he was otherwise engaged." Williamson tried to interject himself in the conversation.

"Bah, don't speak of things you have no idea about Williamson. Karkaroff is an expert in saving his skin. If he missed out on this kind of soiree…" As always Rufus felt an itch in his leg, Karkaroff having been the one to curse it back in the day. He'd admitted that much under interrogation. Unfortunately back then being a Death Eater alone wasn't punishable with Azkaban or worse. Those laws were pushed through after the fall. And Karkaroff had found a way to slip the noose before then.

Rufus began pacing again, fingers running down his greying beard. Igor is a consummate survivor, why would he avoid this party, with the rumors Bones had spread about him spilling the beans after he walked, he'll look suspicious avoiding this meeting. What are you up to, Igor?

"Shacklebolt, link up with international again when we get back, see if you can find out anything about Karkaroff's movements lately. And especially where he was tonight." Rufus ordered sharply. His gut told him this was important. He always trusted his gut. He had a feeling the bastard wasn't just cozying it up in Durmstrang tonight.

He fingered his wand as he stared down at Malfoy Manor. One day, Lucius. One day I'll pay you back! With interest!

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I walk into the Undercroft almost giddy. This is something that I've seen in a game, walked through, and now… I'm actually here in person. Although technically most of Hogwarts fell under that category.

My first impression is… It looks… Different.

The Undercroft in Hogwarts Legacy had a bit of a storage room kind of feel, barrels and cages and items all over. This is some 100 years or so later however. Obviously someone has prettied it up a bit during that time.

The low ceiling and multitude of pillars still gives it that somewhat cellar-like or storeroom feeling. Torches on the pillars and on the walls had lit up in green flames as I entered. The very back of the Undercroft had been renovated to include a potions lab. Multitude of different specialist cauldrons stood on a shelf, several cabinets and shelves displaying ingredients, the preservation charms still good on them.

A small library is built around the central pillars, facing the circle of carpet and comfy looking armchairs in the middle - Slytherin green, what else. The bookshelves are filled with books, the slight dangerous feeling I get in the air as I approach, warns me they're likely warded.

There's a small area up against the wall holding a large desk and a few empty bookshelves, obviously meant to be a writing area or office space, never finished.

My eyes widen, as there, on the wall. Where once the empty canvas of Isidora Morganach had hung on the wall - the ancient magic using witch that had gone mad trying to remove all pain from the world. There on the wall were three magical paintings!

The one in the middle with a bronze border and a view of a field of flowers was empty, the name at the bottom of the painting completely illegible. The other two, however…

"This is quite extraordinary. I can't remember the last time we had someone in here." Sebastian Sallow says, his painting looking not much older then he was in the game, a young death then, not overly surprising considering his dark magic obsession - that he chased to cure his twin sister. His name is clearly visible on his emerald and silver bordered painting, the background appearing to be of a clearing in the forbidden forest. A cave just visible in the distance.

"There shouldn't be, that's the point of a Fidelius charm, Sebastian. How did you manage to get in? I wonder?" Ominis Gaunt drawls, his blind visage still drawn to my face as he 'looks' over my way. Ominis at least looks to have survived to his thirties, a neat beard on his face. His name likewise bordered in emerald and silver. Such Slytherins. I would guess the Slytherin common room for what appears to be his background on the canvas.

"I know of the events of a hundred years ago, and because of that I know of the secret, so the Fidelius allowed me in." I say, trying to reign in my excitement.

"What's the event a hundred years ago? And really, a Hufflepuff?" Sebastian says wrinkling his nose slightly.

I blink, "That's… That's the events when you were alive and at Hogwarts…" Not much point arguing with a Slytherin about the benefits of Hufflepuff house.

"We don't have another painting, so time loses meaning after a while as we can't leave here, I'm ignoring, for now, your ridiculous lie." Ominis says quietly. "Sebastian, how long has it been since we had someone visit us here?"

"Ominis I already said I couldn't remember that, didn't I?" Sebastian grouches, running a hand through his hair. "I guess… 1970's sometime. What year is it now?" He looks towards me.

"1991." I supply quietly. A painting isn't really alive. But still whatever they are, they are aware. And they have been alone here for the past twenty years, and Merlin knows how long before that.

"Oh, it's been some time since then." Sebastian says, peering at me curiously, "I know Ominis is dying to know who told you the secret, so I'll ask for him. Well, how did you get in, little Hufflepuff?"

I can hardly tell them the truth. That I played a videogame where their lives were nothing but entertainment. That Sebastian's sister was cursed, ruining their lives, based on making some quests more interesting.

My hesitation has Ominis turning his head with a scoff. "Don't bother speaking, I already know it's going to be a lie."

"It's a secret I'm sworn to not tell." I lie anyway.

"Ominis, it's been what, twenty years? It's probably our last secret keeper passing the secret on anyway." Sebastian says with a careless shrug.

"That careless attitude is why you're stuck as a teenager forever, Sebastian." Ominis hisses out. Thankfully in English, although I know he has the parseltongue abilities.

If the Fidelius was still up, and I doubted some painting, magical or not, could hold it by themselves. Then whoever was in here in the 1970's was still alive. Or the secret would have failed. I doubt they'd passed on the secret, the room looked dust covered and unused.

"I'm just saying, we haven't had someone in the Undercroft for awhile, no point in driving them away, Ominis." Sebastian wheedles, "Aren't you growing bored?"

"Of you, certainly." Ominis replies tartly. "I shan't trust anyone who just walks in and lies about how they know our secret."

"I guess that means no luck in getting me access to those books?" I say, feeling slightly irritated, waving towards the warded central bookshelves and reading space.

"I don't mind you having access." Sebastian says winking at me, "I'm dying for some new conversation, even if it's a Hufflepuff."

Ominis scoffs and turns his back on us. I sigh and face Sebastian expectedly, "So how do I get access?"

Sebastian looks sheepish, "Ah, parseltongue protected password I'm afraid. Only Ominis can undo it."

A quiet, "Hah!" Emanates from the other painting.

Well… I can work on him, I guess. I have years. Eventually I'll grow on him. I turn my focus on the middle painting. "Who is that supposed to be, missing from there?" I ask.

Both paintings freeze up, a low hissing sound can be heard from Ominis painting, but the man himself is unmoving, still facing away. The hissing sounds like it's saying something. Oh, come on! Another parseltongue password!?

After a minute both paintings resume movement's with no idea anything has happened at all.

Another attempt from me to ask them results in the same thing happening.

Super, so I either have to bring Voldemort in here. Or trust this whole thing to Harry Potter!

Well… At least I have a good secret study room to deposit my books in and chill out and read. Also two older students, granted, as paintings. And from a hundred years ago - but spellcraft hasn't changed much in that time. Surely they knew some tricks they could teach. Well perhaps not Ominis yet, I'd have to earn his trust somehow.

Still, I've met with some success.

Things are looking up again.

I don't stay long in the Undercroft, not wanting to disappear for too long this early in, I don't want my friends asking too many questions yet. I haven't decided whether to let them in on the Undercroft or keep it to myself. I need a space just for me, to study and practice, and the Undercroft seems the perfect fit for that, I can even practice potions. And make my own emergency kit, which I admit is a tantalizing idea for when I actually trust my abilities to brew most of the potions and salves necessary.

I'm leaning towards finding another secret room for my study group. Too bad the Undercroft is the only one I remember for sure where it is. Other than the Chamber of Secrets and that's just… No

As I exit the Undercroft I'm dive bombed by a piece of parchment shaped into a paper airplane. I duck away and call out, "Accio" the magic animating it bleeding away as soon as it reaches my hand. Nifty magic, that, I wonder if it could track me through Hogwarts? It was waiting outside the Fidelius so it tracked me so far, or does it somehow use Hogwarts wards like the marauders map likely does, to pinpoint me. I need to start carrying around a notebook or something, so I can write down these things and actually research them when I get a chance.

I open the now folded regular parchment.

Wotcher!

I've got detention later, but if you got a mo' I'll be in the room your ass got beat in, fancy learning some new tricks? Ickle baby raven?

Plus I gotta talk to you about something.

It's Tonks.

I roll my eyes, like she needs to add her name if she is going to write a letter so quintessential Tonks.

Well… I'm literally less than five minutes away from the target practice room, might as well. If my friends ask where I've been I could just say blame Tonks. It seems to work just fine for Ophelia.

I walk over, wondering what spells she has in mind to teach me.

I walk into a warzone. Half the room is smoking, the dummies and various debris of the room either on fire or broken into pieces and scattered like taken apart by an explosion. Tonks grins at me when she sees me enter, a tired but pleased expression on her face, her soot covered face. She is drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, her hair plastered to her face in places, dark red color today.

She's obviously been at it for a while.

"I don't even want to know what those training dummies did to deserve this." I ask in a deadpan.

Tonks snorts, silently waving her wand over herself, water spraying out and washing most of the sweat and soot off. Another wave and she's all dry, still looking disheveled but not quite as much like she's gone hand to hand with the fireplace.

"Just needed to see how far I could push my spellcasting, set a marker for the rest of the year, you know?" Tonks says cheerfully, stretching, letting out a groan as something very audibly pops, making me wince.

"Sorry, I didn't get your note until now, pretty cool, how did you make it find me?"

"The prefects get a limited connection to the wards through their badge - helps them find students that are injured or in need, Ophelia let me borrow hers for a mo' and I used it to tie the charm to finding you specifically. Wasn't sure it was gonna work until you walked in." Tonks explains, running a hand through her hair, it turns its regular spiky pink as the hand moves through it.

"Huh, neat." I say, mind on this revelation. It was actually a pretty smart way of ensuring prefects could actually find and help students that get stuck on a moving staircase or fall and break a leg, or something of that sort. Especially if said students can't remember to call a house elf for assistance. Then again I know Hufflepuff went through all that in the introduction, did a house like Gryffindor even bother with an introduction? Somehow I doubted it.

"So the prefects can track me wherever I go?" I ask, dismayed, stuck on the most important part. Because if they could, then the professor's definitely could.

Tonks rolls her eyes, a knowing smirk on her face, "Keep your knickers on, firstie. I just said I didn't even know if what I was doing would work or not, didn't I? The prefects don't mess with their badges, they're too… Prefecty!"

"That's not a word." I say, but I feel a sense of relief. How can one sneak around and find hidden rooms and such if the prefects can track you through the wards the entire time.

"Sure it is, I just said it." Tonks says, not concerned with such petty concerns as the English language.

She plomps down on the ground, stuff still burning in the background, she waves me over, "Take a seat ickle claw."

Bemused, I walk over and sit down in front of her, wondering what this is about.

"I want to apologize, for sicking Ophelia on you, it should have just been you and me, I should have kept it contained. It was my issue to deal with, and you kind of got the brunt of several years of issues that me and Ophelia have had." Tonks says seriously.

I'm surprised at the apology, raising a questioning eyebrow, "For Ophelia, but not for the beatdown?" I clarify, somewhat confused on what the difference is. Tonks beating me or both, what did it matter?

Tonks grimaces slightly, "Ophelia has seen a lot of shit go down with me, and experienced some herself. I should have realized that she'd not be able to separate that baggage from you." She laughs mirthlessly, "To be honest, I didn't either in a way. You got to the tool used for us to work through years of issues on. You didn't deserve that. And I'm sorry.*

I squirm slightly, feeling uncomfortable, "So, if I'm understanding you correctly. You're sorry you beat me up for the wrong reasons? But not sorry you beat me up? Only that Ophelia shouldn't have been there?" I clarify again. Because I'm honestly confused where all this is coming from. I thought it was straightforward, just a fight, then the air was cleared between us. Why was it suddenly so complicated?

Tonks groans putting her face in her hands, "Merlin, this is so difficult, I hate apologies!" She removes her hands with a sigh, shaking her head, "I should have gone with you, just you and me, had a duel, beaten you up a bit, then we'd be all clear, okay?" She explains, "I shouldn't have involved Ophelia."

"Apology accepted, I guess." I say, accepting the honest apology. Even though I had accepted the beatdown and had enjoyed most of the duel too, until I was outmatched in the end. It had been a good test, to see even with the spells I'd learned already, how far behind I was to a seventh year.

"You sure? You don't sound sure?" She teases gently.

I shrug, "I honestly don't see a need for the apology, I screwed up, and I wanted to see what a fight was like anyway."

Tonks shakes her head wearily, "You're such a weird kid. But you're right in a way too, it's good you got such an easy beatdown already, prepare you for when your DADA classes cover dueling starting in third year." She smirks suddenly, "You don't want to be known as the kid that cried during dueling class." She looks positively gleeful at that, I almost ask, but hold back. I probably don't want to know.

"That was easy?" I say dryly. Wondering what exactly duels were like normally at Hogwarts. The only example from the books had been… Lackluster, to say the least.

"I keep forgetting you're muggleborn with how easy you take to magic." Tonks mutters, she gives me a considering look, "Look… If a muggle kid gets a kick to the nads or a broken nose, it's a big deal, right?" She asks.

I nod, "In some places a kid getting a bruise is enough to have child services involved, so a broken nose would definitely raise alarms and a trip to the emergency room. Where they'd probably as a matter of course get reported to child services just in case."

Tonks nods as well, probably already knowing this stuff, her dad is a muggleborn after all. "Right, well this is a whole 'nother world, Lucas. It usually is what trips the muggle raised kids up." She says seriously, "I could cut your arm off with a cutting curse, and Pomfrey could reattach it in a jiffy as long as it wasn't dark magic. DADA and Charms class teaches numbing charms, stasis charms and blood clotting spells in second year already. So that if any of you get injured or come across someone injured, you can at least do that minimum amount of assistance."

I'm honestly a bit surprised at that. I knew the magical world didn't take injuries very seriously, just from the nonchalant attitude about it from all the adults in the Leaky Cauldron and what references I had read in books so far. Limb reattachment was a new one to me however. Also because, I know we're all carrying reality altering murder weapons, but a blood clotting spell taught to twelve year olds sounds just dangerous. I can just imagine Malfoy using that for evil purposes. Well maybe not Malfoy, he ended up somewhat all talk after all, but a Slytherin for sure.

Tonks leans back on her elbows so she's half laying down, letting out a huff, "In our third year, one kid broke a leg in the first dueling class, another had half the skin on his face melted off because a Slytherin used a spell he hadn't practiced before, and Ophelia broke three ribs." She laughs quietly, "And that was only the first lesson, mind."

"What happened?" I ask, curious, also somewhat wondering what the hell Malfoy and Harry will do to each other in third year - if duels are this vicious. Then again, even a simple Expelliarmus if overpowered could throw someone into a wall like a ragdoll. So it made sense. Magic was dangerous, it's what the Professor's had been beating into our heads all week.

Tonks shrugs, "Professor Savage let us students put the numbing and stasis charms on, as we'd learned the spells the previous year, then he sent them off to the hospital wing. But that is kind of my point." She looks at me seriously, "Even minor spells can do a lot of damage if they hit you, Hogwarts doesn't coddle students, the best way to learn how to dodge or do a proper shield spell, is if it hurts when you fail to do it." She lets me absorb that before continuing, "Our little duel was basically kiddy stuff." She ponders that for a moment, before wincing, "Well, except maybe how Ophelia kept going at your nads, but that's her own separate issue, and I've already apologized for bringing her along."

"So that's why dueling is only allowed in DADA I suppose." I mumble, mind whirling with this new information. It seems this Hogwarts actually prepared its students to defend themselves after school. Is it because of this change that people seem more serious and competent?

Honestly, I couldn't even see how half the shit that happened in the books could even happen now, canon was literally dead.

"Dueling outside of class is heavily punished," Tonks says cheerfully, like she hadn't just done that the other day herself. "Using experimental spells against a student too, that Slytherin I mentioned got two months detention, and couldn't use his wand outside classes for the entire two months." A dark gleeful grin crosses her face, "Everyone called him the muggle Slytherin for months!"

"So that's what you meant… When you said you're sorry for beating me down for the wrong reasons, but not sorry for doing it." I say with realization. Skipping past the obvious relish she feels over some Slytherins predicament.

Tonks grins at me, "You still deserved to get a quick spanking, and you took it like a champ too, at least you won't cry at your first dueling lesson… Like Ophelia." She savors the last sentence, looking perfectly smug.

"There's no way." I shake my head, I can't even imagine that scary unhinged woman crying. There's just no way. Tonks must be lying.

"She broke three ribs, I think the shock did it more than anything." Tonks shrugs, still grinning. She winks at me, "I wouldn't tell her you know, unless you want her to give you three broken ribs."

"Trust me, I'd rather avoid her if I can." I say with a shiver. Seeing a Jaguar jumping at you, is not something to experience more than once. Unfortunately not at all wasn't something I could say anymore.

"Well, I've been way too serious, way too much today!" Tonks suddenly exclaims, pushing herself back to a seated position and drawing her wand. "Wanna learn some prank spells that will make the other little firsties absolutely miserable?"

My grin answers hers. Now I'll probably not use them, I'm having more fun messing with Zacharias then anything. Although I should probably dial it down before he literally hexes me… Doesn't hurt to know some spells just in case though.

It's a fun enough hour together before Tonks has to leave for detention.

It's going to actually suck that she's leaving after this year.

I need at least one friend I can have practically adult conversations with. Well… It might be a few years before Tonks qualifies for that, all things considered.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

The next day, mid-afternoon.

Minerva swept into the hospital wing. Poppy had sent her a patronus, so she only had the barest details, what she knew, had her ready to breathe fire!

"Quirinus, the office. Now!" She barked immediately upon seeing the young man. Sweeping past him without waiting for an answer.

"Poppy, apologies but I'll need to borrow your office for a moment." She said more calmly to the hospital wing matron.

Poppy gave her a tight nod, eyes following the DADA professor. This tension was new, Minerva knew Poppy had quite gotten along with Quirinus before his two year sabbatical. Then again… So had she.

She barely glanced at the two dividers pulled up to hide the students within, giving them some privacy. And preventing them from seeing discord amongst Hogwarts staff. She mustered herself and entered the hospital wings office, Quirinus entering behind her, a polite, curious expression on his face.

Minerva silenced the office with every anti-eavesdropping spell she knew, before exploding on the young man, "You sent Harry Potter to the hospital wing in a theory only lesson! Have you lost your mind!? Explain yourself Quirinus!?"

The man raised a sardonic eyebrow, "Students regularly go to the hospital wing, Minerva. It isn't a concern." His lazy drawl only infuriated the Deputy Headmistress further.

Minerva remembered the young Professor couldn't even use her first name two years ago, still calling her Professor McGonagall. How quickly he'd changed, and not for the better. Not for the first time she wondered what on earth had happened to the man in those two years.

She forcibly calmed herself, she needed to remain professional, "This particular student, for obvious reasons, is watched more closely at the moment, Quirinus." She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a lackwit. "You aren't even doing spellwork yet, so how exactly do you manage to injure not one, but two students in your class!?"

Quirinus smirked, leaning back against the office door, crossing his arms, completely laid back - as a juxtaposition from her own anger. "Mister Potter actually did himself and poor Miss Granger in, all by himself."

Knowing the man would hardly lie to her, when a whole classroom of students could prove differently in such a case, Minerva forced herself to adopt a completely calm mien, raising a questioning eyebrow, "I think that you better tell me what actually happened now, Quirinus…"

She had a feeling this all came down to the type of lessons the Professor had been teaching this week. Damn the man, but he had his lesson plan approved by Albus and herself before the semester. One week, he was allowed one week to go over the threat a muggle could pose to a magical child and how to defend against it.

Neither Albus nor her, had expected he'd spend the entire first week on nothing but, instead of sprinkling it through the curriculum. And with such vitriol. The man had rather isolated himself from the rest of the staff once news trickled in about the lessons. Pomona had almost hexed him for Merlin's sake! Pomona!

"Well, I was holding a rather charming - if I do say so - lecture, on the cruelty in muggle medicine, specifically dentistry." Quirinus spoke up with a thin smile. It grew wider as his knowing eyes caught her own widening in anger.

Miss Granger's parents were dentists. She had met them herself, a lovely couple. If a bit distant. "Did you purposely target Miss Granger, Quirinus?" She snapped out, eyes narrowed. Fingering her wand.

Quirinus noticed, but he simply tilted his head, dark eyes intent, still that thin little smile on his face, "She had a unique perspective on the subject, I do like to bring up topics my students can relate to, as I'm sure you do as well."

Minerva said nothing. Just glared at the man, waiting for his explanation. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lips curl in disgust to have her teaching compared to his.

If anything this seemed to please Quirinus, as he smirked fully, one hand stroking his chin as he continued, "Ah, yes, I was querying her on the torture implements her parents used on their subjects. When Mister Potter, quite rudely, stepped In-between us and ordered me to stop."

Minerva can almost picture the scene, a teary eyed Miss Granger. And Potter, just like Lily, stepping in and refusing to back down, even if it was a Professor who was being unjust. Silently she thought to herself. Ten points to Gryffindor Mister Potter.

"Then how did both students end up injured? Your tale seems to lack any use of magic." Minerva asked, honestly baffled how this could have possibly led to injuries that required the hospital wing. Quirinus, as distasteful as he was nowadays. Was an accomplished wizard, and fully capable of healing most minor injuries like a fracture and the like.

"I simply asked Miss Granger a final question, ignoring the disrespect from Mister Potter, as a muggle raised," Here Quirinus gives her a sardonic little smile, "He just doesn't know better, does he?" Quirinus continued, unconcerned with Minerva's growing annoyance. "It seems Mister Potter was gripping his wand and thinking severely naughty thoughts, because he managed to explode both his and Miss Granger's desks. The spell burned much of the side of his leg in the process on its way to impact the floor."

"You seem to have escaped any harm." Minerva pointed out, dry as a desert. While wondering if Potter had actually had an accidental magic episode, or if he'd really been thinking of blowing up his Professor… The second… Wasn't ideal, aggravating as the man was. They could not have students blowing up Professor's. Not until the end of May at least.

Quirinus smirked, "It was easy enough to shield myself from the debris." He confirmed lazily, "Sadly, I didn't have the time to shield the children." He gave her the most insincere smile she's ever received, "I just wasn't fast enough, Minerva."

Smile less if you want me to believe that crock! She thought irritably. "I believe you've almost reached your week, Quirinus." She said smartly instead. Seeing his eyes narrowing she continued with a glacier-like coldness. "Albus already reprimanded you for the severity and the subject matter of your lessons. Docking you two weeks pay. I am telling you now. You are done teaching about muggles in class. Or it will be a month's pay, and a written notice to the board of governors."

Quirinus looked like he would protest for a moment, before his shoulders eased, and he leaned back, calm again, "Oh well, I think the lessons had enough time to sink in anyway." He said dismissively.

Minerva knew Albus already regretted signing that contract for the DADA position to Quirinus for the year. Unfortunately they hadn't had any other applicants, and Quirinus had been a polite young man before his sabbatical. If they had known what they'd get… Merlin damn it all, they'd probably still hire the man. Distasteful opinions or not.

Everytime Albus thought he had this curse on the position defeated, it slithered back in again.

Minerva for the first time in her career as an educator. Couldn't wait to find out what it would do to Quirinus.

She only felt slightly guilty for thinking it too.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Harry Potter was not particularly happy with how his day was shaping up.

This whole magic thing and Hogwarts, it was all so amazing. So much more than he could have ever even dreamt of. Yet, it was also more of the same. Professor Snape wasn't much different from some of his teachers that the Dursley's had convinced he was a thief, a liar and a delinquent. He just couldn't figure out who had told Snape in this scenario, because he hadn't done anything to the man and the Potions Professor seemed to hate him.

Then there was Draco Malfoy. Harry could see a lot of Dudley in him. They had the same arrogance and selfishness, believing everything belonged to them. And of course, Draco also had to be after him of all people. Just because he didn't want to shake his hand after he'd just insulted the first friend he'd ever made.

So the more things changed. The more they stayed the same. With one major difference. He had a friend! And his dorm mates were nice! And maybe will even become his friends too!

Eros Rath and Amit Bakar seemed to drift to each other, both talked alot about Quidditch, Harry listened sometimes just feeling this awe at what they were describing. He couldn't wait for his first flying lesson tomorrow.

Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had made fast friends, but they never excluded Harry, they always said hello when he entered the dorms. And even offered to play exploding snap with him. He and Ron spent the most time with them, out of all the other first years.

Brian Lupin, a shy, brown haired boy, spent a lot of time with books. He seemed to be a nice bloke, he kind of hung around with the girls a lot more, especially Granger, so Harry hadn't talked much with him.

And Harry had Ron. Who pointed out all the magic stuff Harry had no idea about, and prevented Harry from making an absolute fool of himself this first week. Well until now… He thought morosely.

He just… Couldn't do it. He couldn't stand by. So many times when Dudley and his gang had been bullying him, or beating him up. All he had wished was for someone, anyone. To stand up for him. Say no, that's wrong. Protect him. And no one ever had!

When he saw Granger in tears, silently staring at her desk as Professor Quirrell stood over her so smug and condescending, the Slytherins giggling as he described how backwards and barbaric Granger and her parents were. Harry had realized. She had no one either. This was her moment where she wished anyone would just help. And he had stood up. It had almost felt like an out of body experience.

He had stood up. Stepped in-between Professor Quirrell and Granger. Wand in hand, although not raised, because he wasn't suicidal. And he had told the Professor to stop, and leave Granger alone.

He'd thought he had succeeded. Professor Quirrell had just looked at him like he found him the most curious insect. And Granger had looked up, wiping her tears surreptitiously, a shocked hopeful look on her face.

And then the Professor had asked her how many children she had practiced this barbarity on with her parents. And that face had fallen again. And Harry had exploded! He had no idea what he did, he just felt agony down his legs and then threw himself over Granger as the floor and desk exploded under them. Shards cutting into them.

And now he sat here, mostly healed, a paste on his leg doing the rest of the work on his burn, just waiting to be expelled.

He'd exploded a classroom. Almost blew up his Professor. Blew up another student. It was back to the Dursleys. If they didn't just put him in jail.

The divider next to him was pulled away. And Granger poked her head in hesitantly.

"It's alright, you can come in if you want." Harry said glumly. Not like it mattered. He'd be back in private drive within the day.

Granger slowly came over, looking hesitant as she stood by the bed. Chewing on her lip. Finally she spoke. "I think… What you did was very brave." She said, face turning slightly red, before turning her nose up slightly, "Although, you should have been more respectful to the Professor."

Harry blinked. She was thanking him? For blowing them up? Then again. Thinking of himself being kicked around the yard. He'd have taken a broken arm in a heartbeat if it meant someone stepped in for him, defended him. So he got it, kind of.

"Your welcome?" He managed to get out, feeling slightly bewildered. She'd still defended the Professor too, after what he said. As far as Harry was concerned. Quirrell was even worse than Snape.

"I'm… I mean… My name is Hermione." She squeaked out, holding her hand out, Harry noticed it's shaking a bit. He stared at it, confused.

"I know." He answered back, baffled. "Umm… My name's Harry?" He offered, slowly reaching out and shaking her hand.

"I know." Hermione said with a quirky smile. And they both giggle at how incredibly silly this all is.

The divider is suddenly pulled apart. Hermione letting out an eep as Professor McGonagall steps forward, followed by Professor Quirrell.

"It's good to see you're both healed, Miss Granger, Mister Potter." Professor McGonagall said sternly. Harry's heart sank. Here it came. He was going to be expelled.

"If Madame Pomfrey gives you the clear, you are free to leave, I believe you've missed your last class of the day, so make sure to ask your classmates for their notes." She continued and Harry just stared at her, shocked. He wasn't being expelled? He blew up part of the DADA classroom!

"Ah, yes. Before we forget. That will also be ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a Professor, Mister Potter…" Professor Quirrell said with that thin smarmy smile, Harry gave him a rictus of a smile back.

"And… Detention, this Saturday. At seven. For both of you, I think." He continued. It might have been just his imagination but Harry thought Professor McGonagall looked irritated.

"I have… Detention!?" Hermione said, a horrified look on her face. She looked at Professor McGonagall's face, eeped again, and then fell into a dead faint.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, girl!" Professor McGonagall huffed out, a flick of her wand preventing Hermione from hitting the floor. "Stop laughing, Quirinus!" She barked, moving Hermione back to her bed. The horrified expression still on her face.

It was just sinking in.

He wasn't expelled. He'd get to stay at Hogwarts.

Bugger me! How will I explain to Ron I've made friends with Hermione bloody Granger! He thought suddenly. That's what they'd done, right?

Maybe Hermione had the right idea. Stay in the hospital wing.

The bed was super comfortable…

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Authors Notes:

Quirrell isnt trying very hard to appear non-evil. that's weird, innit?

One name there was pretty recognizable. Wonder how that happened?

I'll probably tell you. In like ten chapters or something.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

The pacing will pick up soon, it's only been not even a week at Hogwarts, the introduction of classes, environment and other students etc needed going through before I can really go - and then a month passed by.

Starting after this weekend my updates will most likely go to every second weekend. One weekend being this story, and the next being Waking Nightmare, so that one of my stories is updated on a weekly basis.

Of course depending on writer's block or writing more than usual, more or fewer chapters can happen.

Writing everytime Lucas does something, like roll the dice, would make for boring reading pretty quick. When it's important it will come up. There's a reason most everyday basic actions don't get written. If I mentioned how many times a day a character uses the bathroom that would get tedious. Likewise if I mentioned him rolling dice between each class or something, which for reasons soon explained. He is not.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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Breakfast on Friday started with some interesting rumors. Word had trickled down to us from the prefects, who had gotten it from the heads of houses. That Quirrell was finished with the muggle part of our curriculum and would be moving on to other things.

It honestly surprised me. Even with all the changes I had noticed. I hadn't honestly expected Quirrell to be reined in. And that's what must have happened. There's no way he was stopping on his own, no matter how nicely framed - moving on from that part of the curriculum, had been put.

I also did not relish how his actions made absolutely no sense, if he was Quirrelmort. Why would he draw attention to himself? What was his plan? Was he even in league with Voldemort? Was the stone even here? The third corridor was forbidden as it was in canon… But I couldn't see how the stone would actually be here, and not under a Fidelius or something. Was the third corridor just bait? At least Quirrell being reined in would hopefully make DADA slightly more palatable.

Of course as we sit down for breakfast and I am told the reason Quirrell had been reined in, I choked on my breakfast.

"Potter blew up the classroom!?" I cough out, Neville tries to be a pal by giving me a pat on the back, it's barely there and weak, but it's the thought that counts. Besides, he looks pretty dead on his feet this morning for some reason. I shake my head in disbelief. "That's got to be a rumor mill exaggeration. I don't believe it." If Harry never blew up Snape or Umbridge, what on earth did Quirrell say, I mean other than the shit he already told us…

"Well I heard it from Parvati, who had the DADA class with them, and Potter blew himself and Granger up, and ended up sent to the hospital wing." Padma reiterates calmly. She cocks her head slightly, eying the Gryffindor table. "Parvati could have been lying of course," This was said in a tone that intimated her skepticism at that. "Granger has joined Weasley and Potter at the table, however."

We all look over. And sure enough, the golden trio seems to be a thing now. Although Ron looks mightily annoyed, no troll this time to tie him to the friendship - that's going to make things interesting, I bet.

Hermione and Harry are both keeping their heads down, obviously aware most of the hall is taking peeks at them now and then. Thank you Harry for living up to your role and taking the attention off me. I think with relish.

"I don't believe it, if Potter blew Granger up, why would they be friends now?" Susan says, shaking her head firmly. "It's ridiculous."

"That actually makes me believe it more, now." I admit, spearing a sausage, pondering this new development. Last time around a near death experience worked, so why not this time too. Although I doubt they'd been near death, it probably felt like it to two regular muggle raised eleven year olds though. They'd be used to the muggle thought of how absolutely deadly an explosion was. Not yet aware that magicals bodies were tougher, and the many varied ways a witch or wizard could heal from almost anything short of a cut off head.

In a culture where having your arm cut off just meant you apparated or floo'd to and got it fixed up again in time for dinner, injuries were really not seen as a big deal unless it was dark magic or something of that sort. Those muggle raised though, probably would have a hard time accepting such a culture shock. I'd already studied enough, and talked with Tonks, to understand how the magical world could see it that way, so to me, it wasn't a big deal at this point.

Pain was easily dealt with through numerous spells or potions, most injuries healed immediately or within the night at most. So no point in crying about it. The magical world has existed and mostly done fine over thousands of years, certainly better and for the most part fairer than the muggle world during the same time period. So I wasn't going to judge. Fairer being the term for witches and wizards of course. They still sucked when it came to relations and laws for anyone else.

"Of course that makes you believe it more." Hannah rolls her eyes. Tossing a biscuit at me. Jokes on her, I love biscuits. I haven't found any food at Hogwarts that hasn't tasted amazing. Now drinks on the other hand…

"They should have blown up Quirrell." Su says, viciously tearing into her breakfast. Adorable. She's still pissed on my behalf.

"I take full responsibility for the influence that has turned Su into this murderous person." I say smugly. Raising a fist to Neville. Who tiredly fist bumps me, half his face in his eggs.

"No murders, Su." Susan says firmly. She sends a warning look at Hannah who was about to open her mouth to no doubt support Su's murder plot. "No Hannah." And she reaches over and pulls Neville's head off his plate, "Did you not get any sleep, Neville?" She asks gently. Susan Bones is a mother hen. Interesting. I think, watching in amusement as Neville blearily blinks at us. Before sending a weak glare my way.

" Someone was practicing spells, and made the dorm room emit a loud honk every few minutes, for the entire night!." He grumbles.

Everyone looks at me with judgemental eyes. I raise my hands in the air in front of me. "Hey, it was just a prank spell, I had some… Minor issues making it stop. I silenced both our beds just fine." When I woke up this morning it was gone, so I figured it all had worked out.

"Mine wore off in an hour." Neville growls. Bags under his eyes as he glares at me, "And I don't know the silencing charm!"

I blink. Oh. That's totally my bad then. "Yikes, sorry Nev, that's totally on me." I say feeling a bit guilty. I had slept like a baby after all. That would explain why he had practically sleepwalked to breakfast. And the bloke was just too nice to go wake me up to reapply it. Now I definitely feel bad.

I had played around trying to modify the prank spells Tonks taught me and had encountered some minor difficulties last night. I realize now, thinking back on it, that I had fully concentrated on what I was doing, silencing my bed. And then as an afterthought tossed the charm at Neville's bed. So it didn't last, then. The same spell, the same purpose. The more magic I do, the more I seem to be correct in that my focus and intent is more important than even the wand movements or words.

"At least we only have our afternoon classes until 3:30, due to Astronomy tonight, so you can nap all afternoon." Hannah says cheerfully, tossing another biscuit, this time at Neville. Of course his reflexes might be slightly delayed at the moment - not that they were great normally. He gives Hannah a dirty look as it bounces off his face. Before he slowly droops down on the table again.

"Susan, control your other half." Padma says with a tiny smirk on her face. Both Su and I laugh, as Susan turns an exasperated stare onto a blushing, giggling, Hannah.

"It should be a crime to schedule Astronomy on a Friday." I say as soon as our giggles wear off. All of us politely ignore that Neville is now snoring into his eggs.

"I like it better this way." Su says quietly. "No morning classes."

Ooh, she better not say that near the Ravenclaw table. I think jokingly. I acknowledge the point, however. I personally like morning classes the best, nothing better to get my mind revving in the morning. As long as it wasn't Binns, of course. But everyone else probably liked the chance to sleep in on a Saturday after having Astronomy better.

"Are any of you going to the Quidditch trials this weekend?" Justin Finch-Fletchley interjects, asking us from the perimeter of our little friend group. The Finch-Fletchley, Macmillan and Smith trio are usually the ones seated next to us for some reason.

"Quidditch, bah. I'm not wasting time watching seven people fly around when I could be reading in the library." I scoff. Screw broomsticks when I could study stuff like how to become an Animagus… Not that I am that ambitious… Yet.

"They're doing trials for all the teams though, it sounds so interesting, Quidditch I mean." Justin says enthusiastically. "Not at all like footy, is it?" He puffs his chest out slightly, "If I had gone to Eton, I would have definitely made the footy team, it's in my genes."

I'm caught on one word in all of that. And it isn't Quidditch, or footy. "What do you mean, all the teams?" I ask suspiciously. I doubted all four houses held their trials at the same time - Slytherin and Gryffindor would end up in a brawl that way.

My friends all look at me. I look back. "Muggleborn." I remind them, rolling my eyes.

"You're extremely inconsistent on what you know and you don't know, how can we know when you're clueless at this point?" Padma says dryly. Before copying me and rolling her eyes, "That said I am not talking about Quidditch of all ridiculous things," She grabs Su's arm, "Come along Su, let's go get some more intellectually stimulating conversation." Su waves with a small smile as she's unceremoniously dragged away to the Ravenclaw table.

I wonder how badly she'd hex me if I tell her that was such a Parvati move, well except for the talk about intellectually stimulating conversation. I think amusedly.

"Sooo, Quidditch isn't just one team for each house?" I ask, starting out with the basics. Canon only had the four teams, so what was different here…

Macmillan looks at me weirdly from where he sits next to Justin. "What? And have only three games a year, per house? Sounds dreadfully boring, I'd say."

Well… He's not wrong. I thought the whole premise of Quidditch was dumb, partly, because of the fact it only involved 28 students entirely. Hufflepuff alone had, through the seven years, over 150 students... "So that didn't actually answer my question." I point out dryly, turning away from these Puffs, and turn to my Puffs. "Hannah, go with the 'splainy."

"Like I'm a Quidditch expert." She snorts. She runs a hand down her pigtails, giving me a teasing look, "I like it better when you don't know something." She decides. "Maybe ask Smith?" Her eyes are doing the Dumbledore twinkle. Is that like a spell … Or a natural skill?

"Smith, who?" I say distractedly, as I ponder whether or not Hannah Abbot has put a spell on her eyes to make them twinkle. Almost face palming a moment later as I realize I honestly hadn't clued into the fact - in the moment, just now remembering Zacharias last name was Smith. And despite deciding to leave off him, I'd accidentally kept the gag going.

I ignore the burning eyes on me, turning to Susan, my last hope. She's already giving me a stubborn look, telling me without words that she's going to follow Hannah's lead. Mean. Everyone was mean to me, really.

I have a secret weapon however. I point at Neville, "If you don't tell me, Susan… I'll have to wake Neville and ask him."

I can see her stubborn look crumbling already, as she sends a glance over to the snoring boy, biting her lip.

"I say, he's entirely forgotten we were part of the conversation." Macmillan says, sounding annoyed.

Justin shrugs, "He does that alot." Hey… That's … Factual actually. Oops.

To be honest, it's hard for me to really overly care about the other students that aren't my friends. I'm just not that nice of a person that random eleven year olds are going to hold my full polite attention if my mind is elsewhere. Even my friends struggle to keep my attention sometimes as some magic question pops into my head suddenly.

" He can still hear you. But as you weren't being helpful, he turned to his friends." I say dryly to the two Puffs. "If you're able to explain, I'll gladly listen to your superior knowledge in this subject."

"Come off it, Greenwood. It's common knowledge." Zacharias spits out. Glaring at me angrily as usual.

"Then you won't have an issue sharing it, will you?" I say raising an eyebrow. Looking straight at him with a polite little smile.

Everyone stares at me, Zacharias mouth is open in gaping shock, his eyes bugged out as he stares back at me.

"What?" I say, an innocent expression on my face.

"You're talking to me?" Zacharias sputters out. Susan and Hannah both are looking at me with skeptical faces.

I raise an eyebrow, "Yes… That's why I spoke words in your direction after you spoke words in my direction." I answer sweetly, a butter won't melt kind of smile on my face.

"But you've been ignoring me all week!? You can't even remember my name!?" Zacharias bites out, pure frustration in his voice.

I give him a pitying look, "That's kind of mean, Zach. You're in my year, why on earth would you think I don't know who you are?"

"Oh, Merlin…" Susan sighs, putting her face in her hands, also successfully hiding her smile - the little sneak. Hannah pats her shoulder, a large smirk on her face as she watches the absolute confusion on Zacharias face, and on the other two Hufflepuff boys as well who can't seem to believe what is happening.

"Y-you! Arrghh!" Zacharias turns back to his breakfast, completely ignoring me, face red, his body language telling of his absolute frustration with me.

"It's like the guy's totally forgotten about me." I shake my head sadly. Not able to completely control the upturn of my lips as I try not to smirk. I'm definitely an asshole, yup. Totally confirmed. I think, trying not to chuckle. I'll have to lay off now though, the gag has pretty much run its course for now…

"You are such a….Hmph!" Susan mutters, shaking her head, even punching Hannah's shoulder as the pigtailed girl breaks out into giggles. "Don't encourage him, Hannah!"

I shrug, "Hey, this would all have been over, if everytime I asked about Quidditch teams, someone answered me instead of snarking at me or giving me an answer that provides no information whatsoever." I point out, gently poking Neville to see if he's alive. A particularly loud snore answers me.

"Fine, I'll tell you." Susan sighs, "Before you manage to create any more trouble." She's trying to look at me sternly, it's not really working very well with the way her lips keep twitching like that. She can play goody two shoes all she wants. I know she finds my antics funny.

"Hogwarts has two Quidditch leagues. One for first years through to fourth years only to play in, they play for the Memorial cup. Headmaster Armando Dippet instituted the league in 1926." Susan explains, and for someone not that into Quidditch, she seems to know her stuff, "The Quidditch cup is played for by the fifth to seventh years, although they can recruit any of the younger years to their teams, and was the only Quidditch cup up until 1926." She seems to think of if there is anything to add, before continuing briefly, "If a younger year gets chosen for the Quidditch Cup team they can't play for the Memorial cup team."

Memorial cup, huh? Memorial for who I wonder. And it shows that whatever deviation from canon exists, deviated that far back. Now I kind of wish I had asked the hat about its comments about someone like me, in the late 1800's.

"I thought us first years couldn't play. The letter mentioned no brooms for first years." I point out, wondering what would change with this new revelation. Would Harry Potter end up on the Memorial cup team? Or was he good enough for the Quidditch cup? Did it matter in the end? Quidditch surely didn't affect his Voldemort vanquishing abilities.

"First years can play, but they can't have their own brooms." Susan confirms, seeing my questioning look, she explains further. "All Quidditch matches and practices are supervised by Madame Hooch, the flying instructor. So even a first year student shouldn't be able to get into too much trouble on a broom if they're good enough to make it onto a team."

"But a first year with their own broom, might go flying alone, not be nearly as good as they thought, and end up in the forbidden forest or something, right?" I continue the thread to its logical conclusion. Makes sense, a first year bragging about his flying skills might end up doing something really dumb with their own broom…

Susan nods, before continuing. "Usually for the Memorial cup teams, Madame Hooch devises their strategy and trains them from what I've been told, unless they have a really good fourth year or something to take over for her. While the students themselves have a Quidditch captain running the older teams."

"Huh, thanks, Susan. I guess there are some things interesting about Quidditch after all." I say with a small smile.

Hannah rolls her eyes, "Of course you'd like the history of Quidditch but not the sport itself."

"History is interesting." I defend myself, playfully twirling my fork in my hand and deflecting the thrown biscuit I get from Hannah, again. I've noticed the girl likes to throw food at people, no wonder she becomes an innkeeper.

Soon enough we have to wake up Neville for our first class. I'm even nice enough to use Scourgify to clean all the egg off his face. He still walks like a zombie though.

The Quidditch discussion continues in-between classes, providing me with all I'd ever need to know about the sport. The only really interesting tidbit, the fact that the Memorial Cup winning team, and the Quidditch Cup winning team, actually play each other after in sort of a grand finale. An event usually attended by family and guests as well as the Minister of Magic. Usually the older team wins, but there's been several memorable Memorial cup teams that's snagged the win since 1926. The winning team members receive a medal of excellence from the Minister. And a full team photo on the cover of the Daily Prophet, with the minister, of course.

While it was not that much different from canon. Only adding another seven players and perhaps some alternates per house. It did again seem to highlight how the magical world enjoyed to show off, have grand events and make a big deal out of even a school tournament. No wonder they had such a hard on for the Triwizard tournament.

I also realize, watching everyone around me, even the sleep deprived Neville - and the two girls who had said they didn't much care for Quidditch - chat excitedly about tryouts. That I'd no doubt be dragged along.

Whether I liked it or not.

Troublesome.

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After classes, while Neville begs off to sleep, I claim library time as an excuse to ditch the Hufflepuff common room for the Undercroft. Susan and Hannah love our common room, so a trip to the library our first week isn't on their agenda. So everyone's happy. Except maybe Neville, he might still hold a tiny grudge. I would have to make it up to him somehow.

I spend a short amount of time getting rid of the dust and dirt that's accumulated across the Undercroft. Obviously no house elves come in here, due to the Fidelius charm. I make small talk with Sebastian as I do, Ominis still giving me the cold shoulder. I'm not sure how I'll convince him to give me a shot. The truth is more outlandish than any lie. And I'm not sure I'll ever trust anyone to tell them the truth.

Even to a painting that can't leave the Fidelius charmed chamber. For all I know the secret keeper is a Death Eater and will return one day, or tell the secret to his spawn.

It was especially pointless to tell anyone anyway as my knowledge is becoming more and more obsolete for every day that goes by. Can I even trust that the same people are Death Eaters? So much has changed. I've already, somewhere in my mind, given up on my plot to avoid canon. The honest truth is in my face.

Harry Potter will not win.

Not in this world. Not as things stand.

I have knowledge, even if not perfect foreknowledge due to the changes. I have my foray into Divination. My growing magical skills. My soon to be prodigy reputation. I could help.

Scratch that, I should help. I can't afford to let the golden trio scramble along in this kind of world.

Quirrell alone already seems like an insurmountable obstacle. I don't even want to imagine the Riddle Horcrux in second year and the basilisk, perhaps Lockhart was even competent, which would be scary with his affinity for mind related spells.

And above all. If Voldemort actually was marginally intelligent and not a caricature of a villain that just does cruelty for cruelty's sake… Well… I better hope Dumbledore actually fights in this reality in that case.

I look down at the heavy roll of parchment that had been thrust into my hand after Herbology with the Gryffindors earlier today. Hermione Granger's promised questionnaire. As I had thought, she'd somehow managed to find over two hundred questions to ask me. In less than a week. Yet, this was my way into the golden trio. Befriend Hermione.

I unroll the parchment, scoffing in disbelief as I see the neat tiny handwriting covering every inch of parchment. This really was an attempt by her to make friends. Why else would she add questions like what my favorite color is? Trust Hermione Granger to attempt a friendship through a detailed questionnaire about their likes and wants.

Picking up a quill I begin to answer, keeping it serious and concise for the questions on magic. And silly and just me, on the other questions.

Like for my favorite color. I write down; The magical color octarine, only visible to wizards and cats. Unfortunately she was a witch so I couldn't show her. Pity that.

For my favorite food I put down any kind of tooth rotting sugary snack or sweet. And added that I've never seen a dentist, imagining her frustration at my answers.

I have a feeling my answers on magic would intrigue her. And my other answers… Would piss her off. Then again, one of the best ways to catch someone's interest. Was to make them get pissed off at you, in a fun, not mean way of course. It ensures they keep the conversation going at least. As long as Hermione is interested in me, we could become friends.

I roll up the parchment with a sigh, time would tell if I could get along with Hermione. My joking attitude would probably drive her sparse. My studious nature would likewise separate me from Ron and Harry. I had to try. I would prefer there to not be muggleborn concentration camps in the future.

Again, I take out my Mooncalf dice, rolling them through my fingers, as I have every morning this week.

Again I throw the dice. My question is the same, just phrased differently each time to try and tease out all avenues. Can I trust Dumbledore with my secrets?

Again, the answer that comes back from my divination. No.

It was the frustrating thing of utilizing the ability of divination, that you got a pretty singular answer, there was no information on why. Could I not trust Dumbledore because he'll use my information to fuck things up worse? Or because he'll Obliviate me? Or because he'll think I'm a loon? I don't know. I just know that if I tell Dumbledore my secrets and foreknowledge. My divination keeps giving me the answer, nope. Bad idea. Do not.

And I couldn't then follow it up by asking several questions surrounding my first question. Having gone further in Cassiopeia's text, I had found out that, as she put it - the further you peek behind the veil of fate, the less you'll find. Or in plain language. Me using my dice once a day was already probably pushing it. If I used it more, I'd likely start forcing errors and no longer be able to trust the answers. And if my belief faltered. Then Divination would suddenly become less useful anyway.

Divination more than any magic I had found so far, hinged on believing in the answer, and that the process worked. As soon as I start losing faith in my results… I'll be nowhere near as good at Divination anymore. No wonder the class was useless at Hogwarts, really. Someone like Trelawney could not possibly instill belief in the majority of her students.

I open my divination text. Having read through it fully during the nights I've been at Hogwarts. I flip the pages until I land on - scrying.

"You know, for a bleedin' first year, your aptitude for divination is kind of insane." Sebastian says casually, looking down at me from his painting.

"It's all pretty intuitive, not actually that hard." I say, shrugging, finger following along the text as I go over the relevant parts again.

A scoff comes from Ominis direction, we both wait a moment, but there's no more of a reaction than that. Sebastian rolls his eyes, "Well, what I'm sure my grumpy partner means to say, is that divination doesn't work like that. Not normally." Sebastian frowns slightly, "Well… Back in my days anyway. I don't know what you're doing different, but somehow you're making the magic sing to you, when most only manage a whisper."

"Hmm, very poetic." I say dryly, eyes back on my divination text. It was all just intent and belief, nothing was singing to me.

Having finished the relevant parts, just refreshing my memory, not that I really needed to. I walk over to the potions area of the Undercroft, grabbing one of the cauldrons, and return to my desk with it. The cauldron is made from the shell of a fire crab, probably brought in here illegally. As only potions masters were allowed to harvest fire crab shells for cauldrons anymore. The jeweled surface of their shells almost saw them poached out of existence at one point.

It is ideal not only for many potions, but for when you're needing to contain a magical effect to say, only the surface of the cauldron, with no bleed off.

It only takes me two tries to get Aguamenti working, as I fill the cauldron with water. It's definitely not a perfect spell yet - shooting water in spurts, but it works, slowly filling it. Luckily, for the next bit. The ingredients needed are preserved in the Undercroft potions lab - I had checked. I wouldn't dare to raid Professor Snape's stores. I am not that insane.

Yeah, talking about you there, Hermione. Good luck to you if you try that in this world.

I take a small scoop of ashes of ritually burned unicorn hair, and sprinkle it in the water. Unicorns represent purity. And for this I needed purity of vision. The ritual burning represented a second touch of purity, the addition of pure clean magicked water was a third. Three might not be as good as seven - as far as magical numbers go, but it still held power.

Purity times three should give me a pure, completely unhindered vision.

I let my wand just barely touch the surface, concentrating, focusing on the blankness of a still lake, the freezing cold of ice, the reflection of a mirror.

I whisper out, "Visio Speculum!" Letting out a pleased huff when the water turns blank and reflective, looking almost silverish. A faint fog leaves the surface in tiny wisps, shimmering in a silver sheen.

"Sure, not at all special at divination… Before performing a Divination ritual." Sebastian scoffs. "If your Professor can even do that I'll eat my canvas!" I can see that he's thinking hard, calculating. Those Slytherin eyes are hard to hide when you're a painting. I ignore him. I have some scrying to do.

There were other, simpler ways to scry. But those could also be deflected easily by most modern wards. They'd most definitely not pierce Hogwarts. Me being inside didn't matter for the wards. A normal scrying would fail. Yet Cassiopeia's text had held a scrying ritual, one that should work. At the cost of no scrying working for me for seven full moons.

It is a ritual. And no rituals come without a cost. None. Or so Cassiopeia intimated.

I tap my wand on the surface, "Show me Tom Marvolo Riddle… Also known as Lord Voldemort."

I need to know whether he is Quirrell or not. Whether he is here for the stone or not. Is the third corridor stone trap real? Or a set up? Or both? And the way to start figuring out answers lay in this simple question. Is Voldemort here, in Hogwarts. The dice wouldn't be enough, someone like Voldemort was likely warded from regular divination. The process of which was unfortunately not covered in Cassiopeia's text.

… Now that I think about it… Dumbledore probably was too. Perhaps the constant no I keep receiving is because the dice can not pierce the wards. Food for thought, later.

The surface shimmers, before changing. The picture seemingly zooms around Hogwarts hallways, it's confirming my fears that Voldemort is here. Before stopping on… the caretakers office? On… Argus Filch!?

Something must have gone wrong with the ritual. I tap the wand on the surface again, Argus Filch's scowling visage disappearing briefly, before stubbornly returning.

There's just no way. Voldemort would not hide as a squib! There is absolutely no way. I can't even picture him spending a day, let alone the rest of the year masquerading as - or possessing, Argus fucking Filch.

My eyes narrow. It is a stretch, to try again, the ritual might fall apart. I tap the wand, "Show me Quirinus Quirrell."

The surface starts to break apart, the water boiling as the picture zooms towards the Defense against the Dark Arts office. Just as it reaches the door, it appears to hit something. And then it shows Argus Filch again. The reflection shatters. The cauldron is once again filled with water.

I bite my lip in thought. Was that proof Quirrell was Voldemort? And somehow shielded even from this obscure ritual. If anyone could do it, it would be him. Why direct it to Argus Filch, though?

The ritual supposedly pierces all veils - in this case meaning all wards and other means of hiding oneself someone could be using. And it supposedly shows the unvarnished truth. Yet… Perhaps I was not as good at Divination as I thought.

Either way… Voldemort is definitely in Hogwarts. I'm not exactly happy to have that confirmed. But I'd rather know for sure. Filch would be easy enough to rule out. If he's possessed, his body should start to reject the possession long before that of a wizard like Quirrell.

And if it's Quirrell… Well… Hopefully Harry Potter's burning hands still work just as well as in canon, or Dumbledore intervenes. Or we're fucked.

On the bright side. With how quick his behavior was stomped down on, I doubt he'll be as ridiculous as trying to murder Harry Potter in front of everyone at a Quidditch game.

Then again, he's more competent… Would it be weird if I made Ron Weasley taste test all of Harry's food from now on? It would be weird right?

Maybe I can find and learn, and then teach, a poison detection spell. Using the excuse that Harry is a celebrity so, better safe than sorry?

I'll have to figure something out.

I spend the rest of the time in the Undercroft on my studies for the winter holiday excursion I've got planned.

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I join the others making the climb up to the Astronomy tower several hours later. Mind troubled. The problem with intervening and helping out the chosen one through canon. Is that canon might not exist, which really leaves me on loose footing. My advantage was supposed to be that I knew what was coming.

This world of magic was absolutely divinely beautiful and amazing. Truly actually magical, more so than the canon one by a mile. And on the flip side, it was dangerous, dark and full of hazards everywhere you looked. I would have to decide soon. The longer I took waffling around. The more of a march whatever bad shit that is going to come down on us all, or on Harry Potter alone, would have on me.

Even while walking, I roll one of my Mooncalf dice between my fingers. The habit is almost soothing at this point. No matter how I look at it. Quirrell must be possessed. I don't rightly know why on earth he's acting suspicious as all hell instead of meek and worthless. But it's likelier than Filch. Although just in case, I might have to actually try and keep an eye on the caretaker. Which is going to be… Fun.

He does love us kids so much…

"You study divination, how curious." A cool voice comes from ahead of us. I look up, and frown. We share Astronomy with the Slytherins, the only class we share. And one of them is speaking to me.

We weren't even at the Astronomy class yet, although I could see the stairs leading up to the last stretch of the Astronomy tower ahead of me.

"Curious?" I ask, not sure who had spoken as it had been said so softly. My fellow Hufflepuffs somewhat hide behind me, exasperating me slightly. We're all first years, what are they going to do? Give me boils?

"Yes, with your heritage, taking up such an artform to study, it's… Curious." The one speaking up is a Slytherin boy with slicked back black hair, a hawkish nose and ice blue eyes, standing with two female Slytherins. One is somewhat brutish looking with copper colored hair, the other in contrast is the shortest person here, even shorter than Su - although not by much. She has bluish black hair and light green eyes. She also looks bored out of her mind.

I roll the dice between my fingers, "Divination like all magical arts has its beauty." I say slowly. Not sure on how to act with the Slytherins with their strange… Politeness, around me.

"Silvanus, I'm not waiting around here for you to talk about divination of all things. I'm leaving." The shorter girl says huffily. Before turning around and doing as she said, starting the climb up the last stretch of the Astronomy tower.

The now named Silvanus, shrugs, turning to me, "What can you do, don't mind Siona, she's a Parkin, if you're not on a broom she couldn't care less." Quidditch nut, alright, avoid that Slytherin for eternity. Got it.

"And to whom am I speaking?" I ask, curious despite everything, not recognizing any of these Slytherins from canon.

He gives me a condescending little smile, "My name is Silvanus Selwyn, yes," He says smarmily, "Of those Selwyns." Prick, I think uncharitably.

The only thing I recognize the name Selwyn from - is Umbridge claiming to be a relation, not exactly a ringing endorsement. I figure it would probably not be polite to mention that, however. I look at the brutish girl at his side, almost as wide as Su is tall. She grunts out, "Amaryllis Runcorn." At my questioning look.

I've found the female Crabbe and Goyle. I think, keeping a polite smile on my face as I nod and introduce myself. "I am Lucas Greenwood as you seem to be aware." I step aside slightly and wave my arm towards my friends. "And these are my friends, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Neville Longbottom." I pause, "And various others."

Silvanus introduces himself, somewhat superfluously as this is obviously the Selwyn my friends already know. And despises. My friends all give me dirty looks as they're pulled into small talk with the poncy git as we ascend the stairs.

The other Hufflepuffs give us as least fifteen feet of distance before following. This avoiding the Slytherins thing Hufflepuff has going on is going to be a chore with my fellow Hufflepuffs isn't it? From what I've heard and seen so far, when they're not around me - for some reason… Several of them are definitely on the mudblood train, bullying and just being asses in general. Although I don't have blinders like Harry, so I can also tell that half the Slytherin first years aren't bullying assholes. Not that it necessarily means they're fond of muggleborns, just that they probably won't hex any of us they catch in a corridor alone.

Well so far. It's only been a week.

As we enter the last part of the Astronomy tower before we reach the observation floor, I'm again amazed at the magical view of a classroom or its surroundings. The hallway leading to the final set of stairs seems to be made of glass or crystal, the view inside these pitch black walls is the vastness of space with supernovas, black holes and planets - comets traveling across it in full splendor. It's absolutely breathtaking, even the purebloods taking a moment, watching in awe, before continuing on.

This world seems to have gone much further in enchanting and crafting than the canon world ever had. More wizards and witches here actually explored magic. Not just reusing the same old spells.

I stop and gently touch the wall over a supernova, letting out an embarrassing squeak of excitement as it zooms in, and that whole section of the wall changes. I look away, as Susan and Hannah both give me smiles that I am fairly certain would have been followed by monikers such as adorable, and cute, if we weren't in such a breathtaking space that no one was speaking at all.

To the right is an open doorway into a regular lecture type class room, with desks and a blackboard, but that's where normalcy ends. A liquid rainbow colored globe the size of an elephant hangs in the air over the desks, periodically changing into different parts of our solar system - perfect replicas of planets and other astral phenomena, including opening up, and showing the inside of planets! The high domed ceiling of the room is the only reason it even fits inside.

The walls of the room are similar to the corridor, the cosmos pictured everywhere you look. Breathtaking and so very useful if you can touch it and look closer. Whoever enchanted this. I wanted to meet and learn from. It was divine. I am absolutely blown away.

I say it alot, but bloody hell. Magic is so cool!

To the left is another doorway leading into a room with another high domed ceiling, telescopes all lined up against the walls, normal dark colored wood walls this time. The ceiling… It's the cosmos, just like the great hall enchantments, except grander in a way. Because it isn't just the night sky. It's space itself. Close up views of Mars! Not only is it beautiful and obviously incredibly useful, just looking at it makes it obvious the view is controllable. Allowing the Professor to literally zoom in on parts of space! It proves the universe functions on magic in some way. Or they'd never be able to reach so far as to view Mars from up close. No wonder wizards have never bothered with attempting to travel to the moon or that kind of thing. They can literally see it as close up as a neighbor's yard by looking at it from Hogwarts.

I'm reminded again that magic is nothing like the books or even the games. It's so much more, I don't even know how to describe it differently it's just… More.

With all this magical beauty and functionality around us, the actual observation deck itself is plain and boring. Simply a clear view of the night sky and a bunch of desks and telescopes. A beautiful clear view of the sky, to be sure. But downstairs we could watch comets moving from a close enough view that it would be considered harassment if done to a person.

….

If this view can be controlled to look down at the earth too. The marauders totally snuck in here to spy at topless beaches - at minimum. That's now my head canon. I'll have to remember to ask him if Lupin is the Professor in third year.

Aurora Sinistra is a black woman in what appears to be her early thirties, her olive robes have shimmering visions of stars on them, and her hat shows several astrological signs. Throughout the class she proves to be a strict no-nonsense Professor, but one with a ready smile available at all times. And absolutely passionate about her subject.

She's probably pretty popular as a teacher, young, definitely fit, and that infectious passion too. I definitely wish I was my own age and working at Hogwarts instead of a student for a moment there. Puberty is going to be shit. Because there's no way I'll even entertain the idea of as much as kissing someone that's not an adult.

As we end our first lesson, and can now look forward to two lessons a week, starting next week, she goes into one last lecture. Standing by the edge of the observation deck, the night sky behind her.

She paces in front of us, her voice brimming with passion. "Students, There is not much in the world of magic that has not been studied. Quantified. Taken away from its mystical and primeval state and made into a servant for us all." She sweeps her arms out, almost encompassing the night sky seen behind her. "Astronomy still sees the primeval ancient forces, the magic no longer found anywhere else! The constantly changing, constantly evolving. The moving of celestial bodies still affects our magic on earth today. Even though the star that does so, died thousands of years ago!" She smiles, "In Astronomy, magic is alive!"

We stare in silence, and in some cases, the ones not appreciating magic properly - in boredom. Many students are just waiting to go to bed. I'm riveted as I have been for most magical classes. I just couldn't see it as homework and class work. It was magic!

Professor Sinistra smiles mysteriously, "For those of you who understand, Astronomy can be the bridge between simply the extraordinary… And the divine!"

Not a sound is heard as we all take that in. Besides myself, only the Quidditch nut seems to have taken Professor Sinistra's words seriously.

The Professor looks at the time and huffs, "Well, look at you all letting me talk the night away, off you go students, into your beds."

I suddenly regret the fact my studies would likely mean I wouldn't be taking this class anymore in just a few months. The class itself was fairly standard. The location though…. And the Professor. This. This is how teaching is done. This passionate way of loving a subject and trying to impart it on her students.

If only she taught potions or DADA, how the life of every student would be changed for the better.

Fuck it. Even if I stop taking Astronomy, I can still come up here and study. I'm sure the Professor won't mind, not with how crazy she is about her subject.

The view in that space room…

Fucking magic, man.

How can anyone not love it?

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Even with the late night, I'm still up at 6am as usual. Performing my morning rituals and meditation as quietly as possible as to ensure I don't wake Neville up.

It's around 7:30 in the morning by the time I quietly make my way into the sett. I'm not surprised to see it almost completely empty. It's a Saturday morning on the first week back to school. Most students would probably not get up until ten at the earliest.

I am surprised to see Tonks and Ophelia snuggling on one of the loveseats though. Mostly because I've yet to see such a calm and content look on Ophelia's face before. It suits her better than the snarling visage she wore fighting me.

"Up early there, baby claw?" Tonks says questioningly. Ophelia lazily looking my way with a half lidded stare. Obviously too comfortable to bark at me this time.

I shrug, sitting down in one of the amazingly comfortable plush arm chairs across from the friends - or whatever they were. "I'm always up early, it's a habit I don't think will change."

"I love to sleep personally." Tonks says quietly, making a face. "Looove to sleep until noon when I can." She briefly brushes a hand against Ophelia's cheek, the black girl closing her eyes serenely and snuggling into it.

I feel a small pang of loss. I hadn't had someone when I… Died. But I had people, family…. Seeing Tonks and Ophelia brought back some memories of times spent with my own loved ones. How many years until I could do that again? Could I ever? Could I ever be a true friend, or ever find love. With my secrets in the way.

"Guess she doesn't agree with your sleeping habits." I say softly, not wanting to be loud in such a serene and cute scene.

Tonks snorts, making Ophelia twitch slightly where she lays. "She's an insomniac unfortunately. So this is the best she can get some times." The sad, soft expression on Tonks face makes me feel like I'm intruding. I quietly make my excuses and leave the common room for breakfast.

There's only two other students in the great hall when I arrive for breakfast. Both are upper year Slytherins and pay no attention whatsoever to me.

I enjoy some tea and raspberry scones and don't eat much, keeping it to a light breakfast. My mind is still heavy with the quandary of Quirrell and Voldemort. And the strange feeling that something is wrong. Why… Is it so fleeting? My memories of my family and friends. It appeared so strongly when I saw Tonks and Ophelia, but I can't remember even thinking about it for years, except for brief moments of thinking of my sister.

I could remember canon just fine, why was everything else… Elusive. What was going on?

I'm still sitting there, troubled, two hours later when Tonks and Ophelia plop down next to me. My own friends are obviously still sleeping in. Lazy Puffs.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Tonks asks cheerfully, loading up a plate so high that it risks tipping over. Tonks solves this by picking up a rack of toast and placing it next to her plate, so her food can't tip over that way.

"My thoughts are entirely focused on my disgust for your breakfast plate." I say grimacing. For Merlin's sake she covered blueberry muffins in sausages, bacon and scrambled eggs and then put maple syrup and cereal on top.

"It's perfectly acceptable breakfast food." Tonks argues, taking a large bite, cereal tumbling down her mountain of food.

Ophelia gives me a long suffering look, "Don't even try, I've told her for years, her parents have tried. Sprout tried. McGonagall tried! She still eats like this."

"It's impressive in a way." I say, Tonks sending me a pleased look, until I continue with; "In an absolutely disgusting - you can't stop watching, trainwreck kind of way."

"That sums it up nicely." Ophelia agrees dryly, sending a teasing look at the disgruntled Tonks, Ophelia herself - settling for a cup of coffee and a scone.

"It's good you two are so agreeable now, considering Ophelia is going to lead your study group." Tonks says sweetly, pointing her fork at me, a mass of - at this point unidentifiable gloop, drooping off it.

I turn slowly to stare at Ophelia who just smiles at me. I turn back to Tonks, resigned. "She volunteered I imagine?"

"Of course, I asked her too." She answers blithely. Like she can't even remember any particular reason why that might become an issue.

"First of all, why?" I ask Tonks, before turning to Ophelia and point blank asking her, "Do you still want to beat me up?"

Ophelia looks to Tonks whose mouth is too full to answer and the metamorph makes a shooing motion at her to go first. She sighs, shaking her head, "I'm over it. I probably went a little overboard anyway." She gives me a haughty look, "A little." She stresses. "Tonks has been nagging at me, so I guess we're fine."

Well that's a load off my mind. I'd enjoyed our little fight, but I wasn't looking forward to her having it out for me still. Glad everything is settled I turn to Tonks. My eyebrows raised as her cheeks look like those of a chipmunk, as she chews away happily.

"I'm withdrawing my question. I don't want an answer and risk you choking to death." I say in a deadpan.

She gives me the finger, my eyes widening in amusement at that exact moment, seeing the person walking by our table.

"Miss Tonks. That is not appropriate behavior for a seventh year. Ten points from Hufflepuff." Professor McGonagall says sternly, making Tonks almost choke on her food anyway as she realizes the Deputy Headmistress was behind her.

Ophelia hides a chuckle behind her hand as Tonks tries to swallow her food to apologize. She looks my way, both of our eyes filled with amusement at the scene.

A few minutes later as I rise from the table, having spent enough time pondering my own head for the last few hours, Ophelia calls for my attention, "Since you're done anyway, find the rest of the firsties, let them know our study group meeting will be in the sett for two in the afternoon.

I give her an acknowledging nod, before walking off. Running into several of the Hufflepuffs on my way out of the great hall and passing along the message.

Then I head to the library, no doubt my friends will all migrate thereabouts soon. We did have our own little studying session/meeting scheduled for eleven. Although at this rate my Hufflepuff friends might have to skip breakfast if they're going to make it.

If they forget, well, I'll have study time by myself then, or with Padma and Su who are unlikely to have forgotten.

Anything to take my mind off detention with Quirrell tonight.

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Soon enough it was two in the afternoon and all of us little Hufflepuff firsties congregated around one of the many tables in the sett. Ophelia lazily reclining in an armchair she'd dragged over.

The common room was fairly full, but is so large there is enough room for us to have a quieter corner to ourselves.

Many Hufflepuffs are giving us knowing glances for some reason.

As soon as we're all seated and quieted down, Ophelia introduces herself to everyone else and goes through the mechanics of when we're to meet, and what is expected of these study groups. Mostly just an exercise in helping each other out, and ensuring no one fails a class.

So one meeting every Saturday, here in the sett. Usually for an hour unless we need more time or extra assistance. No Hufflepuff is allowed to fail, simply through sheer peer assistance. Honestly the longer I'm in Hufflepuff, the more I can't help but think, fuck Gryffindor. Hufflepuffs forever.

Ophelia leans back in her armchair, putting her bare feet up on the table - which is kind of rude, but okay then - the way Macmillan keeps staring at them too… Someone's gonna develop a foot fetish.

Ophelia's lazily eyeing us as we work on our homework, piping in when someone needs assistance, but otherwise mostly leaves us alone. Seemingly just relaxing at our table, a pleased relaxed expression on her face.

This first week was mostly safety procedures anyway so the homework is ridiculously easy unless you slept through classes. So no one really asks for her help on more then basic writing questions.

She looks at her wrist watch after a while, "Alright kiddos, it's been about an hour, so unless you have questions about your homework or need extra help I'll release you in a bit. First I'll just go over some of the extracurriculars at Hogwarts." She waves her wand and three symbols appear in the air over the table.

A golden dragon head sigil, a golden Hippogriff sigil and and a golden Sphinx sigil.

I remember this! I think excitedly. I'm so pumped they're real!

She waves her wand again and the dragon head enlarges while the other two sink into the background. "This is the sigil for the Dragon society. It's a Hogwarts society that celebrates skills in flying, dueling and subsequently, its members generally excel at DADA and Quidditch. That said they also tend to be the society for the adventurous and the risk takers."

Another wave, and the Hippogriff sigil takes center stage. "This is the sigil for the Hippogriff society, another Hogwarts society, celebrating skills in Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Herbology and Potions. They also tend to have the more outdoorsy and studious lot, those that enjoy the outside and all that entails.

We all watch with rapt attention as the third sigil takes center stage. "The Sphinx society, who it should be obvious by now, has the Sphinx sigil, it celebrates and focuses on Astronomy, History of Magic, Charms and Transfiguration. They accept both those with their heads in the sky or past, as well as those skilled with a wand, generally the creative innovative types."

"Each society of course has other subjects and skills they prioritize, but those mentioned are the publicly known and accepted main criteria." Ophelia explains. She looks at us all, "Everyone got it so far?"

"It sounds fascinating, how do you join such a society?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asks, every Hufflepuff staring at the sigils, pondering.

I can hear Grace Lawang whisper to her seatmate that she's a shoe in for the Hippogriff society already. With her seatmate being Megan Jones, related to Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, no guesses as to where she'll probably end up.

Ophelia smirks lazily, answering Justin's question, "You don't. They invite you, if they believe you fit in with them. Each society has a secret club house that is almost like a separate common room. In there it doesn't matter what house you're in, you're a society member. All societies have different benefits and perks, including some sweet things in the club houses. So you'll definitely be happy if you accept an invitation."

"Can you only join one society?" I ask, my favorite subjects being split between the Sphinx and Hippogriff societies annoyingly enough. I am intrigued though. I remember this from Hogwarts mystery, but I wonder how it looks like or works here and now, in reality. Everything else here has been just better and more magical, I can't wait to see how the clubhouse stacks up. Not to mention the magical world having secret societies to add to the whole house rivalry thing. Or perhaps it lessened the rivalry?

Ophelia nods, making my face fall. She sends me a dry look, "Overachiever." She lightly taunts me, before addressing everyone. "If you join a society, you'll be sworn to the secret of their clubhouse entrance, and face the punishments of a magical contract if you purposefully reveal its location. A student might be invited to two or even all three clubs. But once you pick. That one club is the only one, throughout Hogwarts, and beyond."

She twirls her wand in her hand looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "I haven't left Hogwarts yet, but society alumni sometimes visit the clubhouse so I am aware that there is a clubhouse outside of Hogwarts for the society, for when you're adults."

"What society are you in?" Zacharias Smith asks curiously.

Ophelia chuckles, shaking her head, the tiny butterfly charms on her braids tinkling quietly. "Weren't you paying attention, Smith. If they keep the entrance to the society secret, why on earth would they make who's a member of what, open?" She crosses her arms under her breasts, "It's actually believed to be quite rude to ask, so after today, definitely don't go asking around about it. You're being informed, so that if you receive an invite. You won't be messing up and talking about it, that said, first years rarely get invited."

"Is it safe? I mean you're talking about signing a magical contract." I ask, not really worried, but also not going into anything without all the information, particularly involving anything about a magical contract.

"He's right, do the Professors know about all this?" Susan wants to know, looking a bit hesitant. Probably heard horror stories about magical contracts from her aunt.

"Most of the Professors were likely members at some point, and therefore still are. The societies all started in the 1800's after all. I can't speak for the other societies but there are professors around all the time in the society I am part of. And not to worry, you can read the contract itself if invited. They only state the punishments you'll be in for if you reveal the entrance to the club house, nothing life threatening." She grins sharply, "But definitely very embarrassing and lasting, if you do betray your society's trust."

"What does getting an invite look like?" I ask, somewhat disappointed the first years didn't get invited often. Perhaps after the new year I'd qualify. Harry Potter's probably been invited to all three already.

Ophelia shrugs, "Each society has its own traditions and way of doing things, I can't really answer that. Just know you won't be approached in person, as that would be revealing a member's identity in case you turn the invitation down."

"As for the rest, Hogwarts also has the chess club, summoner's court club - although they only accept you if you know Accio, gobstones club, dueling club - once you get into third year, broom racing - again third year or up. And various others posted on the common room notice board. So even if you're not part of any societies, you'll still find something to do with your free time." Ophelia explains, giving everyone a small soft smile, she looks very different when she does something like that. It seems to settle the nerves of my fellow Puffs.

I can almost believe she's an actual Hufflepuff when she looks like that. And not a secret Slytherin taking on a Hufflepuff skin like she seemed before.

Ophelia soon leaves us be, and everyone starts chatting about the information.

The question on everyone's mind.

What society they would like to join.

Merlin damn it. Why can't I join all three!? Is my own thought. I want to experience it all!

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Author's note:

Divination is not a cure all, find out all - magic button.

It has limits like everything else. It's also as stated before, not always 100 percent right. What does magic construe as the answer? You can ask about being safe, and survive the day but have several broken limbs from it, are you technically safe? Yes. Nuances in the question, in the thought, in the magic itself. It's an art. This is why Sebastian is like, omg dude, wtf, how are you doing that shit?

Divination will be used now and then, as it's a major part of Lucas going forward. And because frankly I think it's pretty awesome and I never see it used anywhere. But it's a guide. A helpful tool. Not a magic eight ball answer dispenser he can use fifty times a day to answer every question.

Not to mention how many questions really need a better answer then the yes or no, he'd get.

Like all magic in this AU I've created. Astronomy is more than making star charts.

Every magic class has a point, and magic that can be useful to the everyday witch and wizard. Or it wouldn't be taught.

I've incorporated the Hogwarts mystery clubs as not so secret - secret societies that gives an extra layer to Hogwarts over the next few years.

And don't worry for those who have no idea what Hogwarts mystery is. The societies are not like fight clubs or some secret evil cabal or shit. It's basically a student social club. And it continues on after Hogwarts just like being a Slytherin or a Hufflepuff might follow you along in the same circles.

Only about a third of students actually ever get invited as it basically invites those most skilled, studious or famous. Your regular student getting acceptable on their tests and coming from a normal background isn't going to get an invitation.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Divine and conquer being updated this weekend with this chapter. So two weeks til next update - as I'll focus on updating Waking Nightmare for next weekend.

Time moves on at Hogwarts, almost Halloween.

And as always more questions and too few answers.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

Hope you enjoy it.

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I definitely enjoyed my Saturday, learning about the societies and clubs available to students of Hogwarts. Albeit most regular students would never - if they didn't excel strongly in some areas, actually get invited to the societies. I of course believe I'll eventually get an invitation, the question will be which society to join in the end.

The dragon one is a definite no, Quidditch is not for me, and although I'm sure to enjoy dueling, it's for the power to defend myself, not any particular wish to be constantly in the fray of things.

So it was in-between the Sphinx and Hippogriff society for me.

I probably wouldn't see the golden trio there either way, Harry probably wouldn't join without his friends, and if he does manage to get his friends invited as well, it's likely the dragon society that will take them in with him, due to Quidditch being the only possible avenue Ron Weasley could make it in on, even as a future consideration, due to him being a Weasley. Hermione would most likely be miserable in that society however, so I genuinely hope Harry doesn't drag her into it with him.

Of course all fun things must end. And for me, the upcoming detention with Professor Quirrell definitely heralded the end of said fun. I can't imagine I'll enjoy it.

I'm surprised - I don't know why. But I am, to see Hernione Granger and Harry Potter waiting outside the Defense against the Dark Arts office. They did blow up a classroom so I shouldn't have been surprised. I just hadn't expected we'd be sharing the detention. The more the merrier I suppose, I hadn't looked forward to being alone in a small space with Professor Quirrelmort.

Seeing Hermione reminds me however, as I fish out her scroll out of my mokeskin pouch, "Granger, I've answered your questionnaire." I hold it out to her as I walk up, giving her a teasing smile, "If you wanted to be friends, you could have just said so, no need to ask me about every detail of my life." I tease lightly.

Hermione blushes, side eying Harry who looks on with confused bemusement. She quickly grabs the rolled up parchment, looking like she's dying to read it right now. "My friends call me Hermione." She says shyly, face still red, not able to quite meet my eyes.

"My friends call me really annoying, but I sometimes also go by Lucas." I reply, winking at her. Amused at how badly equipped she seems to be to respond to me. This is the first week Hermione after all, not the after the troll - gumption Hermione. I turn to Harry. "I can call you Potter if you like, but it's probably easier to go by Lucas and Harry, if you don't mind, that is?"

Harry nods slowly, looking from Hermione to me, "Sounds good." He says simply.

"So, excited for detention?" I ask, clapping my hands together, feeling unusually nervous.

"I can't believe I have detention, my parents would be so upset with me." Hermione's face instantly crumples at the dreaded D word. Harry sends me a panicked - do something look.

"You know, detentions don't actually go on students' permanent record." I say, soothingly. I had looked it up; that information was not actually kept with a student's file, it was kept completely separately in Filch's office.

Weird. But I guess Filch has to feel useful in some way.

"Still…" Hermione says, looking conflicted. "I never saw myself as the kind of girl to get… Detention!" The weight she puts on that word - feels more like someone talking about going to jail for obscene acts. I wonder if she'll utter her famous - or worse, expelled - line in this world.

"From what I heard you both did nothing wrong." I say firmly. "You shouldn't even have gotten detention."

"I blew up the classroom… And Hermione." Harry says self consciously, ignoring the fact he also blew himself up.

"Oh, Harry, you know I don't blame you for that!" Hermione instantly pivots, giving Harry a soft look, placing a hand on his arm, "You were defending me."

I give Harry a thumbs up, winking at him, but he just stares at me confused. Ah, to be socially awkward and completely ignorant of any social cues again.

Honestly he and Hermione had always had a better relationship, hopefully one change to canon with this earlier trio would be that these two get together. Although I doubt it, as Harry literally has to be clubbed over the head to realize anything related to people. Throw a dementor or a snake at him, sure. But don't ask him to talk to people.

Any further discussion is interrupted by the door opening, Professor Quirrell looking at us with a raised eyebrow, "Making friends are we, well I suppose you're all of a similar… Kind." He muses acerbically, stepping aside, "In you go, I'm sure you're all thrilled to find out what I have in store for you…"

We all exchange reluctant looks, before Harry - of course. Steps inside first, squaring his shoulders and staring Professor Quirrell in the eyes. Hermione and I follow behind him, neither one of us looks Professor Quirrell in the eyes. I don't know Hermione's reasons, but I'm pretty sure Voldemort is in residence, so I'm not making eye contact.

Quirrell's office is practically bare, no paintings on the walls or drapes over the windows. A single solitary desk, with a chair and an attached bookshelf is pushed up tightly against one wall. There's not even a chair for a guest/student for Merlin's sake!

What there is, is a large table in the middle of the room, with a large map of the world. A magical map, mind you, important places standing out more prominently, like wizarding villages and alleys as well as the schools for magic. Everything looks so real, the mountains rising up over the rest of the table, the water of the oceans, lakes and rivers seemingly deep - despite being on a table. There's even cloud coverage hovering over the map and weather playing out - perhaps even in real time? That's pretty cool if that's true.

"What is this, Professor?" Hermione asks, hesitantly. Looking fascinated, but definitely not comfortable in Quirrell's presence.

Professor Quirrell steps closer to the map, drawing his wand, which makes me flinch, earning me questioning looks from Harry and Hermione. Quirrell waves his wand over the table, smoke appearing from the cities, the oceans getting slightly discolored, the air itself over the map getting polluted. "I think…" He drawls slowly, "That you three are uniquely equipped to help with this muggle conundrum." He finishes, with a disgusted curl of his thin lips.

"I thought you weren't supposed to teach about muggles anymore." Harry says, somewhat confrontationally. A stubborn set to his jaw.

Don't piss off Quirrelmort, Harry! I try to warn him with a look, but he just looks at me weirdly. Not understanding the look at all.

Quirrell smiles thinly, shaking his head mockingly, "Mister Potter, such sad, simple Gryffindor thinking. Can you spot the problem, Mister Greenwood?"

I sigh, but nod,"This isn't class, it's detention." I point out. Professor's have a lot of leeway on detentions, as long as it isn't abusive.

I doubt the golden trio has read it, as even Hermione probably hasn't heard about it yet, but there is an actual Hogwarts rulebook, for both students and professors, available in the library. The rules regarding detention are plentiful, and usually amount to the same thing. The professor can do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't unduly harm the student, harm including - physical abuse, sexual abuse and a plethora of magical things. Not mentioned at all is verbal abuse. Something I might mention to McGonagall to update when I see her in Transfiguration next…

"What you'll be studying, and helping me figure out, is how to stop the pollution the beas-... Muggles - are destroying our planet with, and how to heal it." Professor Quirrell hisses out, a dark look in his eyes as he sneers down at the map. Wand practically stabbing down on one particularly pollution filled city. "My way is somewhat… Final." He continues coldly. "So children… Find me a better way with your muggle experience."

"We're eleven." I say, absolutely thrown. Like what the fuck. Quirrelmort is seriously standing there talking about saving the planet and fixing climate change and pollution. What twilight zone am I in? No really. I really need to know!

"And yet you know more about their kind… The muggles, all three of you, then any dozen purebloods or half-bloods I could ask." Quirrell states succinctly. The spot on the map where Quirrell's wand is resting is starting to burn slightly. I gulp, it must be my imagination that hears the cacophony of screams, no way the city on the map is capable of suffering. Right?

Hermione is staring at the map hungrily, like she can't wait to dig in on the task. But even she hesitates in the end, raising a hand, blushing as the Professor gives her a disparaging look. "Yes, what do you want, Miss Granger?"

"I'd love to help, Professor, it sounds ever so important and interesting." She rambles slightly in apparent nervousness. "But…But," She bites her lip, "How on earth are we going to accomplish anything in one detention!?" She bursts out. Looking anguished to admit to not being able to live up to a professor's task.

Both me and Harry groan at the same time, no doubt having the same horrible gut feeling simultaneously. We watch Professor Quirrell chuckle darkly, eyes intent on all three of us. A thin pleased smile on his face. "That's correct, Miss Granger. I'm afraid then, that due to the horrible disrespect I am sure you'll show me throughout the year, that you all have detention every Saturday… Until you solve this problem." His smirk widens at our obvious discomfort. "Just solve it quicker if that's an issue." He says flippantly, raising his wand, I wince. There's now just a burn mark where Beijing used to be…

I have no doubt what Quirrell's final solution is… So why does he want to try a more humane solution?

"You can't pre-emptively give us detentions for something we haven't done!" Hermione gasps out horrified, her face pale - no doubt at the prospect of having a detention every week. If she is anything like book Hermione, she is probably close to a freak out now, I think, watching her grow paler and paler as it sets in. If I hadn't already told her it doesn't go on her permanent record, she'd probably have fainted already.

"I'll tell Professor McGonagall." Harry says, a stubborn look on his face. He pats Hermione on the shoulder awkwardly, "She won't let this happen, Hermione." He says, not sounding very confident, but still standing his ground.

You can always trust Harry to fight authority. Unless its name is Dumbledore.

Professor Quirrell's pale face turns my way, a sardonic smile on it, "And you believe this as well, Mister Greenwood?" He asks, silkily. Again with putting me on the spot.

I do not appreciate it.

I am so confused right now. But not about this at least. I shake my head wearily. "No, it's pointless." I admit bitterly. Drawing stares from Harry and Hermione, I shrug, "Tell her if you want, but what are you going to say, really? Please save us from Professor Quirrell, he's making us find a way to save the world from pollution?"

Both their faces fall when they come to the realization that Quirrell hasn't actually done anything during this detention, like he had for his classes. Not anything they could complain about, really.

If he started abusing us, verbally or otherwise, we could do something. But he was being - although not nice, per say. Cordial enough, that we had nothing to report him for. And a Professor had the right to see a student in detention. As long as he played it smart and only gave us an hour or two a week, yeah he'd get away with it.

I look at Harry and Hermione apologetically, "Sorry, I can't see a way to dispute a detention from a Professor, not unless he does something bad first." Especially as he can easily make up a reason for one, it's not like Harry ever stays out of trouble for long, and so far, neither have I…"

"Oh don't worry, children. I'd never do something bad…" Professor Quirrell practically purrs out, a superior look on his face. He knows he has us. Now I just need to figure out why he wants us? I mean Harry, I suppose if he's Quirrelmort - it would make sense. But why Hernione and I? He couldn't honestly mean this nonsense about saving the planet from pollution could he?

The rest of the detention is fairly quick and straightforward, Professor Quirrell giving us several books, not only on magic specifically meant to be worked on nature, but muggle books as well, detailing the effects of pollution and how it works. Although a lot less detailed than my old life, where pollution was being taken much more seriously then it was in 1991.

It's honestly completely surreal. Save the world? Quirrelmort is having us work on this? Us? Eleven year olds? He knows more magic than we'd ever be able to figure out. There's got to be some sort of trick to this, some reason. It can't be that he needs our help. It just doesn't make sense.

As we leave the detention, I'm held back for a moment by the Professor. I'm somewhat annoyed at the so-called vaunted Gryffindor courage - Harry and Hermione rushing off the minute they can, leaving me behind.

"Did you need me for something else, Professor?" I ask, nervous sweat on my brow, as I realize I'm alone in the office with him now.

Professor Quirrell looks at me with a dark calculating look, rubbing his chin. Just several minutes of this uncomfortable evaluation as I squirm. Before he finally speaks, "You… Are a different kind of beast." He says slowly, a grimace pulling at his lips, "Those two are still, innocent. Yet you… You are not, are you? Mister Greenwood?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor?" I ask, really starting to feel uncomfortable.

"If I'd say that the best way forward for the magical world is a full decapitation of the muggle world's powerbase - what would you do to achieve this?" Quirrell enquiries, suddenly stalking forward, grabbing me by the chin with long pale fingers, eyes fanatically burning as he meets my gaze.

….

I feel sharp pain in my head, a vicious satisfied glee, am… I… Gleeful? No… Someone..?

I shake my head, feeling wooly. What? Why the hell am I thinking of muggles in the first place? Where is all this coming from?

Wait… What am I thinking of?

I wake as if from a daze, standing outside the DADA office.

Crap, Hermione and Harry left without me didn't they? I wanted to chat some more, try and set up some sort of rapport. And here I was napping, how careless of me, right outside Quirrell's office too.

Oh well, I'd get more chances. I rub my forehead, damn headache, I really need to find one of those Occlumency books or something. There's just something going on with my mind lately.

I wander off back towards the Hufflepuff common room. For once I might go to bed early.

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The next couple weeks go by fairly incident free. For me. Harry Potter manages to impress enough on a broom that Madame Hooch sends him off to see Oliver Wood, who promptly makes him the first ever first year to join the Quidditch cup team. Gryffindor having lost most of their old Quidditch cup team to graduation when Charlie Weasley graduated, leading to Oliver Wood captaining it now, in his first year on the older team, having successfully led the Memorial cup team for the past two years.

Draco Malfoy had been his usual asshat self, even with no rememberall to filch. His and Harry's little flying duel earning the little snake a position as well… On the Memorial cup team for Slytherin, his flying it turns out, is not nearly enough to beat the seventh year seeker the Slytherin Quidditch cup team has on the roster.

It was amusing to sit in the great hall at meals and see Malfoy fume as the Gryffindors celebrated loudly, and often, for that first week after Quidditch trials. Constant mentions of how in Gryffindor firsties can compete with the seventh years, not like Slytherin - where the Malfoy's of the world were only good enough for those his own age.

Not perhaps the most skilled burn, but they are Gryffindors, so some excuses must be made for their wit.

I still excelled in classes of course, my appetite for the wonders of magic has me way ahead of first year classes in both theory and practice. Although I attempted to not showcase this too obviously.

Due to my own project for the winter hols, I haven't yet studied much other extracurricular magic yet. Dividing my time between the common room, the library and the Undercroft. Reading the entire coursework for several classes takes up most of my free time. It will be worth it in the end, giving me a bounty of free time if I'm successful.

My attempts to keep an eye on Filch have yielded nothing of consequence. Mrs. Norris still follows him around everywhere, and he doesn't seem to be in any worsening health. I'd like to think that if Filch was somehow involved in this plot, his cat would notice something is wrong with him. Then again, if I was impersonating Filch, I'd just Imperio the cat.

Just a week away from Halloween, I finally succeeded in my efforts to bring the golden trio into our little study group. Mostly by getting through to Hermione, who eventually, after much cajoling - convinces Harry, which inevitably leads to Ron agreeing as well.

And of course, on the day I finally can start weaving them into my friends group, to expand their circle of allies, and insert myself near the chosen one, to protect and help him get stronger. I'm waylaid on the way to the library. I'm late, because of that damn poltergeist. And one of these damn headaches again. It had happened in the most inopportune moment, leaving me standing in a hallway with my eyes closed, rubbing my forehead.

Prime target for Peeves.

I'm glad for magic and drying charms, I doubt Madam Pince would allow me in the Library as soaking wet as I was after being pelted by a dozen water balloons. My fault apparently, for stopping in a hallway that had a bathroom close by.

I need to add banish Peeves to my list of goals. Right next to banish Binns.

I arrive at the library only ten minutes late, finding one of the larger tables occupied by my friends, and the golden trio. And with plenty of awkward silence and glances in between them.

Oh, for the love of… Sometimes I tend to forget they're all eleven. And some of them are awkward as all hell, socially.

"I see I've arrived at a real party here." I say dryly, sitting down in-between the space left between Hermione and Neville, depositing my book bag at my feet.

"Lucas!" Hermione says, letting out a sigh of relief. Harry and Ron both seem to relax slightly at my presence as well. Both have talked to me over the last few weeks, but not my friends. It's been only almost two months, and they're still ridiculously insular.

"Come on now, you're strong brave Gryffindors, I promise us Puffs aren't so scary." I tease them gently. Ron looks offended, but both Harry and Hermione laugh.

"What about us ravens?" Su says, looking up from her potions book, a small smile playing on her lips.

I wink at her, "The scariest of them all." I say solemnly. Turning to the Gryffindors again, "They do extra homework. They're all Hermione's over there." I mock, giving her a light nudge, to take the edge of the jibe.

Hermione rolls her eyes, as Harry politely hides his chuckles. Ron shakes his head, still snickering, "Bloody hell, why would anyone do extra schoolwork!?"

"Some of us actually want to achieve something in life, Ron." Hermione sniffs, not bothering to look at him, it has the sounds of an old argument.

"Some of us will get hexed if we get an acceptable or lower." Neville murmurs, looking frazzled as he looks through his Potions textbook. Padma calmly shares her notes with him, rolling her eyes at his dramatic statement.

"Your gran won't hex you, Neville." Susan chides him. Before turning to the golden trio. "Since Lucas is finally here, we can actually start properly. Usually we all work on one subject at a time, is there anything you all would like to work at?"

"Finally, it's only ten minutes…" I mutter.

Harry and Ron share a glance as Hermione seems torn between every subject, all of her books laid out in front of her. "Potions… Is where we struggle right now." Harry speaks up reluctantly. "Snape is…" He shares another glance with Ron, who mouths out, A git! "Unhelpful." Harry finishes with a quirk to his lips.

"Professor Snape, Harry. And don't think I didn't see that, Ron." Hermione says imperiously, "Potions is a difficult subject, it wouldn't hurt to study it some more." She admits, biting her lip, eyes flittering between the outlay of books she's brought with her.

"You can definitely keep calling him Snape or git, mates." I ignore everything Hermione said, earning me a reproving look, "From what you've said, he's not exactly going easy on you in lessons."

In our own Potions lessons, as we've now started brewing, Snape isn't too bad. Mostly coldly examining our work without much said for feedback - unless we're screwing up.

Then there's feedback alright…

Even Neville is doing okay, with Padma as his partner, keeping his nervousness from dumping whatever is in his reach into the cauldron.

The first brewing lesson Padma just barely saved him from dropping his wand in. Why did he even have it out, I mean at this point I don't even ask.

All in all, Snape is an adequate teacher. And one that very obviously knows the material like the back of his hand. If he wasn't so damn scary that he made people screw up just from being near him, he'd be a pretty good teacher.

Never a popular one, mind you.

From what Harry and Ron have said, and Hermione reluctantly corroborated. Snape is much less chill in their classes. Constantly hovering near Harry and Ron. Making disparaging comments.

Every perfect potion Hermione has made so far has gotten a chilled adequate assessment, to her neverending frustration. While in our class Snape has had no problem telling us that our potion is brewed perfectly, or at an EE level or whatsoever it might be. No Slytherins in the room to show off to or play up against - makes Snape almost bearable for us. The Gryffindors, not so much.

Still better than canon Snape though. He's never made any move to sabotage, or allow any kind of sabotage or hijinks in his class whatsoever. Or threatened to feed potions to any students or pets. Yet.

"He's not exactly pleasant, is he?" Hannah says, scrunching her nose up, "Luckily for Potions we have Padma, Susan and Lucas who are all great!"

"I'm helping Neville, Lucas was late, he can help the Gryffindors." Padma says matter of factly. Face never leaving the textbook propped open between her and Neville, one of her fingers tapping some point, pointing it out to Neville. Padma, amongst my friends, is the one that least enjoyed a Gryffindor presence, she seems to believe they'll all be Parvati's.

She'll no doubt make great friends with Hermione once she realizes the girl can't stand Parvati either, not that she ever says so out loud.

It's fairly obvious to anyone with common sense and eyes though. Which might be why no Gryffindor has noticed her dislike yet…

Susan smiles at me sheepishly, "I'm already helping Hanna and Su… So…"

I roll my eyes, eventually they'll have to stop being so scared of the fact Harry Potter is sitting at the same table as them. I turn to the golden trio. "Alright, since it's just going to be us this time anyway, let's find a table for ourselves."

It kind of defeats the purpose of me wanting to bring the golden trio into my circle so to speak. Gain them some more allies then they ever had in canon. But it does work well for me gaining more influence with them.

I get up, grabbing my book bag, quickly followed by both Harry and Ron. Then we stand there waiting, as my friends try to hide their amused smiles, as Hermione tries to shove all those books back in her book bag again. She definitely needs an expanded bag. Why is she even carrying Hogwarts a history around? I don't even carry that book around - and I'm the history nerd.

"Are you sure you have everything?" I say sarcastically, as she joins us, the other parts of the golden trio snickering at her.

"I didn't expect us to move tables immediately." She protests, still blushing slightly.

I shrug, "You could always sit back down, I doubt it's you that needs help with potions." I offer. Already fairly certain she'll refuse. Already the golden trio are hard to separate, even with Ron still being somewhat himself, at times.

"And unload all these books again when I just collected them all up? No thank you." She says primly. Stalking off ahead of us.

I shrug again, following her, "Any reason you guys couldn't just have Hermione help you out?" I ask curiously. Hermione wasn't quite at my level, but she was definitely competent in the class.

Ron shrugs, muttering, "You've seen her haven't you? I bloody well can't understand half the things she says."

Harry nods guiltily, "She tries, but she gets frustrated when we don't understand what she's talking about." He admits quietly.

I hum in thought, it sounds fairly on point. Ron has never struck me as that clever. And Harry, although smart, was not particularly book smart. So Hermione regurgitating the text book at them was probably not overly helpful.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." I say, offering no promises. Hermione is a bright girl, if she can't knock these two heads together enough that something sticks, there is no guarantee I can.

I'm certainly not letting them copy off my work, they'll have to learn how to do it properly.

We join Hermione in a corner of the library at a small nook, the table barely has enough room for all four of us. I smile at the surroundings, reaching into my pouch and taking out one of my dice, rolling it in my hand. We're in a divination section of the library. It makes me feel right at home.

"Can't believe you believe in that stuff." Ron says scornfully, eyeing my dice. No doubt trying to start an argument and delay the inevitable potions study.

I roll my eyes, the golden trio has of course already been spectators to my passionate rants about divination. Harry seems ambivalent, Hermione curious, and Ron adamant that it is nothing but bull. He's been ribbing me about divination since he found out how heavily into it I am.

"It's because I believe in it - that's what makes it work." I tell him, holding up one of my Mooncalf dice. "Belief is one the cornerstones of magic. We alter reality on a whim, it's not the movement of the wand or the words that make magic happen, although they assist in the process." I explain, "It's because we believe we can, and then we use our intent to make it happen."

"That's not what any of our books say." Hermione fires back quickly, "They mention intent, but nowhere does it say anything about belief." She rattles off.

Harry on the other hand looks thoughtful. Ron nudges him in the side whispering something to him that makes him grimace and send me a guilty glance.

"It's not." I admit, "I'll wager it's mentioned in the seventh year books though." In fact, it is mentioned in the magical theory book for the seventh year. I read the book, it's only touched upon, but it's there. "Yet it makes sense to me, look at Neville as an example, there's nothing wrong with him, but he doesn't believe he is capable, so he struggles."

Well that and his wand, although I bet having a new found belief that his wand was his issue, helped make his spells work better after he got a new wand too, as he suddenly believed in himself more.

"Why wouldn't they mention it to us now then?" Hermione argues, looking excited to have a debate. She probably doesn't get much back when babbling magic at these two.

Ron is basically the poster child for - magic, it's just homework innit? Nothing exciting to see here.

"Most likely, because most eleven year olds can do the basics by learning spells and wand movements, but would completely flounder if told to just believe and visualize it happening." I theorize. I don't have access to anyone's lesson plans. But seeing the other eleven year olds around me, I doubt most could tap into their intent and belief on a regular consistent basis - without being distracted or losing focus. Easier to train in muscle memory for spells with words and wand movements. It would have results, eventually. Just not as strong or immediate as someone with enough belief and focus - that can properly visualize what they want.

"So I just have to believe in the spell?" Harry asks me intently.

Ron scoffs, "Harry, mate, don't believe everything you hear. They'd teach us like that if it worked like that."

"The way I've done it, and have so far succeeded in doing it." I say pointedly, "Is that I visualize what I want the spell to do, I believe I can do so and that it will work as such. Then I push my focus and intentions into the spell, saying the words, focusing on the end result, and usually a perfect spell comes out, if not on the first try, then in the next couple tries."

"What about spells for higher years?" Hermione asks, eyes intent on me. She's scribbling down everything I've been saying.

I shrug, "Seems to work the same way so far, I just get more fatigued using those spells. We're still first years after all."

Likely the more I work on it, the more my stamina - so to speak, would increase, and I would get less and less fatigued from spellcasting. There's a reason dueling doesn't start until third year, most normal eleven and twelve year olds don't have enough in the tank until then.

I will of course be an outlier, and I'm sure Harry could be if he put in the effort too. Hermione probably will never put away her books long enough to be equal in a practical sense. And Ron is … Well Ron. No offense, mate.

"So I need to really focus and really want it to happen, and picture it in my mind?" Harry says quietly, looking deep in thought. We all ignore Ron rolling his eyes at us. He'll understand eventually.

"Yes, you should definitely put aside half an hour a day at least, to just try some spells, use your magic 'muscle' a bit, get used to it." I say, pleasantly surprised that he seems interested. Anything that makes him a more competent spellcaster is good in my book.

"I never thought about that before." Hermione muses, looking down at her notes. She looks back up at me and her eyes are sharp, "We don't really practice that much magic in class, not really, not so far." She continues, "If we want to get ahead, we'll have to practice our spells too, not just the theory, and not just once, actually use magic until we're tired." She seems lost in her own world after that, furiously scribbling down what appears to be a spellcasting schedule.

Seems if I want Harry to do anything. I just have to convince Hermione and she'll put it on a schedule, I think, fairly amused at it all.

"Well, Hermione is on the case." I say amusedly, "You boys are going to get sharp in your spellcasting whether you like it or not, now."

"Bloody hell, why did you have to go and do that!?" Ron groans, "Right pain she'll be, right Harry?"

Harry fiddles with his hands, avoiding Ron's gaze, "I think Hermione and Lucas have the right idea, Ron." He says quietly. "More practice instead of reading is better, right?" He tries to soften it a bit, sounding almost pleading.

Ron grumbles slightly, but doesn't say another word in protest. Whether he agrees with more practical work being better, or just realizes Harry has his mind made up, I don't know.

I hadn't really planned this, but it would be all for the best if the trio spent some time actually practicing spells. Harry definitely should have something better than just Expelliarmus in his eventual tool kit.

"I'll help out anytime, if I'm free." I offer, knowing that helping them get stronger was all good for me, and getting on their good side is even better.

"Thank you, Lucas." Hermione says distractedly, showing that she's still paying attention, even while in schedule planning mode.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry and Ron both say quietly, one lost in thought, the other kind of begrudgingly.

I bring out my potions book and the potion ingredients compendium. Best to just get started trying to bash ingredient reactions into these two guys' heads. I could teach them how to brew a potion, and they'll just fuck up on the next one. All the better to teach them why it reacts differently to different ingredients, heat, stirring and all the different small things that affect their potion making.

To my pleasure Harry and Ron do seem to be receptive to my less lecturing methods of explaining things. Although I doubt they'll ever please Snape either way.

I'm not a miracle worker.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

After leaving the golden trio I make the trek up to the Astronomy tower instead of returning to my friends. The headaches I've been having lately have made me eschew company more often than not, avoiding noise where I can.

Since I'm studying the entire Astronomy curriculum - amongst others, for the upcoming winter holidays. The Astronomy tower space room - is not only vital in helping me memorize all the theory quicker, it's also so damn beautiful and cool. I can't help but work harder just sitting in there.

During the day it always seems to be devoid of students as well, which is an extra plus. Day or night does not matter for the enchanted ceiling, it shows space itself, and space is always dark.

I have not been there for even five minutes, my books still unopened, as I just gaze up into the stars, when I'm interrupted in my musings.

"Mister Greenwood, here again I see." Professor Sinistra says with a wry smile, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

"It's just…" I try to explain my attraction to this room, and to this subject, but fail to find the words.

Professor Sinistra smiles softly, "Ah, I had thought so, in our first class together." She says quietly, moving forward to sit on the desk next to me, kicking her feet in the air almost playfully, as she gazes up at the stars. "It is rare I get a student who's enchanted so quickly." She looks wistful as she continues, "It's extremely rare to find any students willing to devote themselves to the celestial and its glory and mystery."

"Space…The celestial bodies, all of it. It's so beautiful and alien and mysterious. Even before I knew of magic, space drew my attraction" I say, staring above me, "Now… I've been studying the entirety of the Astronomy curriculum and it's even more amazing then I could have ever dreamt of." I finish, watching together with Sinistra as the view above us shows a dying star collapsing into a supernova briefly, the intense lights flashing across the cosmos, before the view switches to that of an array of stellar phenomena, glittering clouds of some dust like material floating through space.

"Studying the entire curriculum is an ambitious project for someone so young. And also in a way - saddening." Professor Sinistra leans back slightly, letting out a sigh, she seems less strict in a one on one situation. In our class she had been as strict as McGonagall until her last passionate speech. Although more willing to let out a quick smile and a 'good work' for a student.

"Saddening?" I ask, cautiously. I haven't had the best of luck with professors so far. Even though Sinistra honestly probably ranks in my top three thus far.

Professor Sinistra smiles down at me, dimples appearing in her cheeks, "I'm assuming if you're studying this intently - so quickly. You're intending to pass out of my class. As a teacher, finding such a passionate student, and then never getting to teach him, is a saddening prospect."

I squirm slightly, "I'll still be coming up here, I won't stop learning just because I intend to take the tests." I promise, Astronomy fascinates me, almost as much as Divination, which has grasped a hold of me.

Perhaps it's because these subjects were never expounded on much that I feel such a keen interest in them.

"If you pass the tests at a decent enough level, I might be convinced to supervise some self study." Professor Sinistra dangles over my head, a small, self satisfied smirk on her face. "Only for the best and brightest, you understand." She winks at me.

"I'd be honored." I say seriously. And I'm not kidding. Personal time with a Hogwarts professor is beyond ridiculously valuable.

"You'll have to pass first, Mister Greenwood." Professor Sinistra says, sliding off the desk, straightening her robes primly. "I've never accepted any student into further studies with less than an O."

I nod seriously, I never intended to take the tests with anything less than the ability to pass them with a perfect - or better score. That's why I was prioritizing the classes that were 80 percent or more, theory related.

Adult mind or not, there's no way I'd pass a wand class OWL or NEWT right now. I'd probably not even have the stamina to finish all the practical tests to begin with.

Astronomy, Arithmancy, History of Magic. Until seventh year they were almost completely theory based, and of course History of Magic always remains so. I already have more of a basis in math then all seven years of Arithmancy could teach me, so I was well ahead of the curve there, able to focus on the limited amount of practical spell crafting, ward based uses, as well as ritual based uses for Arithmancy - that is taught in seventh year.

Astronomy likewise doesn't go into most practical uses until seventh year. Although I still need to memorize the entire theory of the six years preceding it, including memorizing much of the nearby cosmos and a large amount of details surrounding it, and the known effects it has on flora, magical rituals and ceremonies as well as magical beasts.

Divination and Muggle studies were easy enough. I needed Muggle studies books to gauge how far behind they were for the tests. Surprised to find the wizarding world, on a knowledge test basis at least - was only twenty years behind - hardly hard to pass for a muggleborn. As for divination, the things used for OWLs and NEWTs in the subject, I could already do, so it was mostly studying the peripheral knowledge for any extra credit.

Once the winter holidays were over. I'd be making a big splash in the news and at Hogwarts.

And now I potentially could see some private tutoring in Astronomy, which all in all will be pretty cool.

Odd though. I've only had almost two months of classes. I didn't think Sinistra would offer me something like this so early on, not that I thought she would at all… Me having a plan on taking the tests or not. I am still a first year muggleborn, an odd choice for continued tutelage.

Perhaps she recognizes my passion and wants to keep my flames of youth burning?

Maybe I'm just being too paranoid now.

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I'm only two days away from Halloween when I'm kidnapped by Tonks again. This time without any unpleasant reasons behind it.

"You did extremely well in a fight, for a first year, I figured I could teach you some cool tricks I've learned over the years. Stuff I've found in books, or blackmailed out of a Slytherin, well eventually… After you learn the basics." Tonks says exuberantly, bouncing along with my hand firmly gripped in hers.

"I'm not sure you should be revealing that so openly." I snark, trying to keep pace with her, as she drags me to her dueling practice room.

Tonks winks at me, "What's the point of blackmailing a Slytherin if you're not letting everyone know how cool you are?" She quips.

"Well probably the fact to avoid getting hexed by a Slytherin who now has everyone watching them, wondering what they were blackmailed over." I point out dryly.

Tonks laughs, briefly changing her hair orange, "A little hexing never killed someone."

"I'm pretty sure that's wrong actually." I mutter, mostly to myself, as Tonks is cheerfully dragging me through corridors.

"I've been hexed more times than I can count," Tonks says casually. "That's not even a footnote of my memories of Hogwarts."

"So… Hexed like four times then?" I tease her, a smirk blossoming onto my face.

Tonks snorts, sending me an amused look, "Pretty good for an ickle claw, but you'll need more than that to outwit someone as brilliant as me." She strikes a pose in the middle of the corridor, her hair turning fluorescent and spiked high.

"...Tonks, it's just us here, who are you posing for?"

Her hair turns pink and with softer spikes, her usual hairdo, as she sighs forlornly, "It's cuz you didn't strike a pose with me, someone would have totally stumbled onto us if you'd done that." She chides me lightly. Before grasping my hand and dragging me off again.

"...You thought I'd randomly perform a pose with you if you did one?" I ask, unable to help the smile growing on my face because of her antics. "Those hexes you were mentioning, did any hit your head?" I remark mockingly.

Tonks ruffles my hair, "So cute, how you're trying to be funny." She coos, "Besides, I'm not crazy. My mom had me tested." She sniffs haughtily, mockingly turning her hair blonde and changing her facial shape to a more narrow, classically beautiful one. No doubt modeled after Narcissa Malfoy - it bore some similarities to Andromeda after all and they were sisters.

"I'm honestly not surprised if that's true." I say, rolling my eyes as she gives me a disdainful pureblood princess look. "And you've obviously practiced that way too much."

Tonks giggles as her normal look resumes, "It's dead useful, you've no idea how many Slytherin parties I've snuck into like that. The pureblood princess routine works like a charm."

"They never question why you're not recognizable as a current Hogwarts student?" I ask, somehow not surprised.

Tonks chuckles as we finally approach our destination, "I just say I'm a relation of Narcissa Malfoy, switching the face and name up a little each year, they never question it."

"That's ridiculous." I shake my head, wondering what that says about the Malfoy's scary reputation, because surely the Slytherins were smart enough to figure out something was up.

Tonks opens the door, ushering me inside, smirking, "I'm good at ridiculous!" She boasts proudly.

I can't help but to chuckle along, Tonks is easily able to improve my mood every time, just with her exuberance and cheerful mien.

"Why would you even want to sneak into those parties, it's pureblood ponces, aren't they just dreadfully boring?" I ask, somewhat curious despite everything. I'd never want to actually be a Slytherin, but any insight into the house was valuable.

Tonks gains a wicked smirk, "The first year I snuck in, I just stayed on the sidelines, face red as a tomato the entire time. Those Slytherins are kinky!" She purrs, fanning her face.

I blanch, "Forget I asked." I really don't want to know now. And half convinced she must be lying to me. No way she dared to get up to anything like that - practically wearing Narcissa Malfoy's face…

Merlin, what if Narcissa knows?

Tonks pouts, "But I have a great story about me, a seventh year Slytherin girl, a sixth year Slytherin boy and a bowl of punch used in a non traditional way." She whines playfully, still a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Not interested."

"But!"

"Tonks, no!"

"But the punch…"

"Tonks I'm e leven!"

"The magic was really quite clever, I've never been able to look at punch, or any liquid the same way…"

"Don't make me owl your mother…"

…

"Low blow, Lucas." She grumbles, but settles down, her lips still twitching.

I have a hard time keeping serious myself, eventually just chuckling, shaking my head, "What did you want to teach me anyway?" I reorientate the conversation.

Tonks lights up, sliding her wand out of its holster - reminding me I need to find a way to get one of those. She twirls it playfully, "You're never going to beat someone like me in a spell for spell kind of fight until you're older." She taps her wand on her lips, I hide a smile, no doubt Moody will lose it on her for such a habit when she's apprenticed to him.

"Because of my stamina, right?" I ask.

Tonks hums thoughtfully, "That's as good a word as any I suppose, most people just say that your magical core has not matured enough to handle that kind of output of magic yet." She shrugs, "You just can't keep it up as long as most boys, yet!" She winks at me.

I roll my eyes, although secretly pleased that - although probably inappropriate for my age, she feels comfortable enough with me to tease. I had asked around about Tonks and Ophelia after our little fight. And if Hogwarts rumor mill is even close to true, she's had few friends and several unpleasant incidents through the years. Ophelia and Charlie Weasley apparently the only two people she ever spent a significant amount of time with, before me. And I'm eleven, which makes it kind of sad.

"So I'm guessing you're teaching me either some sort of area denial spell or something to help me run away?" I ask, figuring if we're not talking spell to spell, then tricky and underhanded is probably the way forward.

Tonks grins cheerfully, "An O for the top student, that's exactly it, I'm going to teach you how to cheat, get them in the nuts, confuse and obfuscate."

"Should I call it the Tonks way?" I jeer good naturedly.

Tonks outright cackles, throwing her head back, finding some deep amusement in what I had said.

"Something I said?" I ask dryly. Not sure I want this answer either.

She snickers, "The Tonks way is what Ophelia dubbed it, after one too many hits somewhere sensitive." She says cheerfully.

"I don't want to know, what spell are you starting with?" I ask, moving straight away from that avenue of questions, not needing anymore Ophelia secrets.

"We'll start with Aguamenti and Glacius, good for a quick area denial, or at least forcing someone to deal with it before continuing to fling spells at you. Even better if you can nail them with both spells as well, it's hard to enunciate well when freezing cold." Tonks explains, with a silly grin still on her face, no doubt I'll hear more ridiculous stories throughout the lesson. "Then if you can get that down, we'll go for avis, conjuring birds might be a bit much for you, but if you can get it down, it's dead useful both to eat spells, and to use with Oppugno to dive bomb your opponent with them and take away their vision."

I can already feel a headache forming, but I push it aside, learning new magic is worth any discomfort. "I already know Aguamenti."

Tonks grins wildly, "Good! Then we can maybe even squeeze in silencio, not too useful against an adult wizard, but to anyone below seventh year, they'll probably struggle if they can't say their spells."

My wild grin matches Tonks.

Let's do some magic!

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I enter the Undercroft some hours later, mind troubled - the spells were achieved, but my headache is much worse.

I also ran into two professors in the short distance between the Undercroft and the dueling room, both Flitwick and Sprout pressing me for why I'm not showcasing my skills to the level they suspect I can do.

I have been trying to lay low and keep myself unremarkable - and failing at that. Yet it seems like that plan not only fails so far in keeping the start of my Hogwarts time quiet, but it is not working in regards to keeping safe either. Both have failed utterly.

Quirrell obviously is dangerous - and also targeting me for whatever reason, it can't just be that damn article. I obviously can not just avoid him, especially as he might then focus solely on Harry. His divided attention is for better or worse, necessary.

My plan had been completely derived from canon. It was time to discard it. I wanted to avoid rocking the boat early on. Knowing that by winter holidays I'd be drawing a lot of attention. So my plan had been simple. Keep a low profile for the first semester, make friends, observe the other students and teachers. Pick out potential allies and enemies.

That way, when the winter holiday arrived with fanfare, I'd be somewhat unknown until then, able to suss out dangers and opportunities before I'd be somewhat famous. And then use my knowledge to take advantage in any way I could, having been able to take the pulse on regular Hogwarts going ons by then.

That's all fucked now. The Slytherins for some reason are being nice to me, making it hard for me to assess where the threats from there will be, the professors seem to realize I'm holding back, with how they've pushed me in classes recently… And the recent pleasant interrogation on whether I'm feeling ill - since I'm not performing to the standard they somehow know I can do.

I suppose it was folly to ever believe I could fool a Hogwarts professor in their own subject as to my own competence.

I've been too passive. If I'm going to not only survive this world - but thrive. I need to get proactive. So canon is fucked. So what? I still know important information, and the important people involved. I can make it work.

I have to make it work. I can't just wait and react. It will be too late.

I roll my dice between my fingers, wincing as another headache hits me. I've been getting them a lot these past weeks. It's funny how Pomfrey can heal me if I lose an arm, but get a headache and the potions she gives me for it isn't doing anything at all.

I freeze suddenly, two fingers pressed against my forehead. Why? How? Why have I ignored this pain for weeks? How have I ignored that the potions haven't been working?

I've been somewhat scatterbrained ever since I got to Hogwarts, or really ever since I got to the magical world in the first place.

But not to this level!

Why have I been ignoring this!?

….

I pace in front of the paintings of Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt a minute later. "There is something wrong with my mind. I can't explain it. I just know!" I growl out, frustrated, my mind can't seem to grasp it, like it's slipping out of my reach whenever I focus on it.

The last few weeks my mind has regressed further away from what I feel was my adult persona, I keep acting silly even to my own detriment, drawing attention needlessly, my mind jumping from topic to topic and having trouble focusing. And of course there have been occasions of intensely painful headaches. What is going on?

"Why would anyone mess with your mind? You're a first year Hufflepuff muggleborn?" Sebastian rolls his eyes, not taking me seriously.

"I've practiced meditation and Occlumency for years! I know when something feels off with myself." I immediately snipe back, bitterly. All the Occlumency books were in the restricted section, no sane way to get in there. No professor would sign a slip for me, especially if I asked about fucking mind magic! So I have no way of knowing how to check my own mind at this moment. Other than continued meditation which hasn't succeeded so far.

"You have what!?" Ominis bites out sharply, talking to me for the first time in weeks, making both Sebastian and me do a double take as he turns around in his portrait, face full of disbelieving scorn.

"What? Practiced Occlumency? It wasn't impossible to figure out." I say, figuring this would be another rant on the impossibilities of my abilities - or my whole persona. Ominis believes everything about me to be a lie. Which he isn't all that incorrect about either, which just adds to the frustration - as there's nothing I can really do to change his mind.

"Are you mad?" Ominis says scornfully, putting his face in his hands. "Occlumency is restricted for a reason, you fool!"

"It can't be that dangerous, my potions professor figured out I had shields in our first meeting, he never said anything." I say dismissively. Although I'm feeling a slight kernel of worry. Snape… Isn't always the most… Helpful.. Would he have told me?

"This is why muggleborns fail so regularly in the magical world!" Ominis spits out, surprising me, as I know he doesn't hold prejudices that way, "It is mind magic you absolute buffoon!" He continues, working up into a rant, smacking the palm of his right hand against the canvas. "Children's magic is derived from pure emotion driven chaos, why do you think we don't match a wand until eleven? Even purebloods trying to give their child an early boost do not give wand lessons before ten!"

"Ominis, what are you saying?" Sebastian asks, eyes narrowed.

"How early did you start? TELL ME!" Ominis shouts at me, drawing a startled exclamation from Sebastian.

I hesitate, I'm starting to have a really bad feeling about all this, "When I was six…"

"You…You stupid, moronic, idiotic, brain-dead, fool!" Ominis curses, pacing in his canvas, looking supremely agitated. "You've spent your childhood years running chaotic wild magic through your brain! You're lucky you're sane! Merlin and Morgana, you're lucky to be alive!" He slumps against the border of his portrait, muttering despairingly, "I am destined to spend eternity with stubborn fools who rush straight into the most dangerous magics with no precautions…"

"Ominis, I appreciate a good rant from you, as always, but explain what you mean, chaotic wild magic? I've never heard it explained that way? Is it like…." Sebastian gives me a side eye, stopping, before staring intently at Ominis.

Ominis shakes his head, "No, not like that kind of magic. It's more like the primeval force of the universe - untamed magic. Magic doesn't settle into what we know and use - until ten-eleven usually. It's chaotic, wild, unrefined before then. That's why there are incidents of accidental magic - as your emotions feed it." He growls quietly, before turning my way again, "And what have you done? No doubt bottled all your feelings up everyday, eh? Ran that chaotic magic through your ignorant head!" He shakes his head, "Magic powered by emotions is usually high level dark or light magic! The only reason it's so benign as a child is because it's only ever projected outwards, grabbing a favorite toy, punishing a bully, your emotions feeding and powering the unrefined chaos and letting it loose, outwards. Yet you purposely trained it to project inwards, I honestly have no idea how you're even sane!"

I swallow heavily, it all sounds….Bad. "I'm eleven now though? Is it safe now? I mean I lived?"

Ominis sneers, "Well, there's not like anything can be really done at this point, probably why your Professor didn't say a word. You've survived. Not much he can do to help really, except explain how stupidly risky it was and how much you've likely screwed up your mind!" He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing explosively, "Your mind remained somewhat stable as you were in the muggle world and your magic was all it knew - and you had already survived, somehow. Now you're surrounded by magic wards and spend time around magic at all times, your chaotic, haphazardly built mind is struggling in finding its equilibrium - because it's used to chaos, being fed all your emotions, not stability!"

"What do you mean not much can be done?" I ask sharply. My hand clenching around my wand, a way for me to settle myself. I still have magic, I still have my mind, I can fix this, I have to be able to fix this!

Ominis sighs, looking weary suddenly. "You've likely, by complete accident mind you - partitioned your mind - one hidden part - one not. It's a plausible defense mechanism to survive the chaos you no doubt inflicted on your own mind. You've survived it, so you're now on the path to becoming an Occlumens - and likely a ridiculously powerful one, by surviving such a vigorous mental ordeal, so congratulations…" He frowns, blind eyes staring straight ahead. "You likely have memories, thoughts, dreams, all locked up somewhere in there. Chaos was running through your little young mind - hiding it here and there - and literally everywhere."

I freeze, my random recollections of my family, that are so fleeting, hard to grasp, and so quickly disappear again, the fact I remember so little. "So that's why my memories get so scattered lately - I've literally partitioned most of them away from my conscious stream of thought - or my usable memory space so to speak." I murmur, hands clenching. "It also explains why my attention sometimes flitters from subject to subject so easily…" Especially anything from before. I literally can't draw too deeply on whatever I remembered, it slips out of my mental fingers if I try.

Ominis doesn't answer, just wearily stares ahead, one hand rubbing his forehead slowly. Sebastian seemingly in deep thoughts as he watches his friend.

"Can it be fixed?" I ask Ominis quietly. Sebastian watching me suddenly, an unreadable expression on his face now.

Ominis hesitates, "Possibly… If you reach the level of skill in Occlumency… And Legilimency. You might possibly tease out the hidden parts of your own mind. It could take years…"

At least this all has had one benefit. It's likely if Snape or Quirrell were to use Legilimency on me, they'd find nothing of my old life. All of it buried deeply - so I'm guessing, due to my own trouble remembering many things not related to the Harry Potter books and related knowledge.

I suppose I should be thankful I've managed to keep those memories at least.

"Is he going to become more scatterbrained in the meantime? I mean he's already a Hufflepuff, he can't afford to lose anything else." Sebastian drawls, arms crossed as he stares his friend down.

Ominis scoffs quietly, seemingly drained due to his emotional reaction, "Now that he knows, and can work on his Occlumency with professional advice!" This is practically hissed in my direction, before he continues, "He should not deteriorate further… It will be years of practice and acquiring Legilimency skills before he can stitch all his lost parts together…" He furrows his brows, "Actually… It shouldn't even have deteriorated this far, this soon… Curious."

I let out a breath, years, it is okay. It's fixable. I haven't completely fucked myself. I guess it was arrogant of me to mess with mind magic based on fanon and fan theories. "What about the pain? Is that because of how chaotic my mind became?"

Ominis shakes his head, looking pained, "No… That means you've reached enough skill in Occlumency - enough sensitivity - that your mind is reacting to tampering." He snaps his fingers suddenly, "Ah, that's why your mind has deteriorated so quickly, someone's been tampering!"

I feel a cold chill traveling down my spine. "Tampering?" I ask, already fearing the answer.

"You've definitely been obliviated." Ominis says, giving me a pitying look - somehow still able to look right at me while blind. "With how sensitive and fragile your mind is from your idiotic escapades…" He sighs deeply, "You're feeling the after effects of the holes in memories that your Occlumency has not allowed to be fully eradicated - your extra sensitivity allowing you to feel it." He shrugs, "Small mercies I suppose. You've survived messing with your own mind, unintentionally strengthening it to a point you can feel the meddling of another."

"Huh, so in a way he's lucky that he's so sensitive to mind magic now, Ominis?" Sebastian asks, seemingly unconcerned now that he knows my mind won't melt on me.

"Yes… Lucky…" Ominis says dryly. "If he had been a pureblood, at least the wards and family magic he would be constantly around would have likely forced him to stabilize his Occlumency early on - facing much less danger of insanity. There have been some natural pureblood Occlumens before. So, yes, he's so lucky he is a muggleborn… " The sarcasm is practically dripping out of the portrait. "Other than going insane… Being stuck in the muggle world could result in that unrefined chaotic magic closing your mind completely off emotions entirely - or leaving it so open and ripped that you'd be an emotional wreck, flitting from one emotion to another, never stabilizing."

He sighs deeply again, "Those with no knowledge on Occlumency believe it regulates emotions, due to these few… Occurrences. That is not so. Occlumency is for defending your mind from intrusion. Keeping your secrets hidden. That is its sole purpose. However, mind magic by its essence can affect your emotions if you're mishandling it - as it is magic affecting your brain." Ominis looks pained to even be explaining all this, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Even purebloods generally don't even attempt Occlumency until fifteen-sixteen - the really keen ones. And even then it's not a guarantee it will have a good result, as a wizard's magic does not fully settle until their magical majority, most have the sense to wait until adulthood to gain the skill." He smiles bitterly, looking fragile, "Just like dark magic… When something says it is restricted… It means restricted!"

Sebastian averts his eyes in his portrait, fists clenched.

I close my eyes, biting on my thumb as I think rapidly. There's really only one suspect who'd realistically obliviate me. Quirrell. The why, that's the question I'm wondering about. What could I possibly have found out that he had needed to have me obliviated for. Also I have obviously heavily miscrued the purpose of Occlumency, none of the fanon utilities of the art seem to exist. Idly my thoughts also go to Tom Riddle. A natural at magic from an early age, unlike myself who couldn't seem to figure out wandless magic until I had a wand. He was stuck in the muggle world… Is this… Did he shut off all his emotions, all his empathy and care - unintentionally from a young age? Either way, it's hardly what I need to worry about right now. I focus again on what's important.

I open my eyes, finally resolute, shedding my fears and hesitation, eyes hard and unforgiving. No more playing around…

"Oh, now that's a look…" Sebastian whistles, a sharp grin on his face. "I like this look! Oh if you could see it, Ominis!"

I have been too lax. Too scared of all the changes to act - to upend the board. Just because things were different it did not mean I did not have avenues to take.

"I think… It is time I get active." I growl, beyond incensed that my mind has been violated. My own fuckup, I've survived, I can work through it, fix it - hone it to perfection. Someone tampering with my mind however… I'll find a way. Someway to get that bastard. My fear is bleeding away to anger now, my mind is sacrosanct, the whole reason I wanted Occlumency to begin with.

"Ominis… If I find a way to practice Legilimency… Will that help my mind faster? Help me in piecing the partitions together as you mentioned?" I ask forcefully, not willing to take any refusal to answer now. Ominis will answer me! And he will be answering my questions on Occlumency from now on.

Ominis seems to hesitate, silently thinking, I stare at him intently, "Ominis…" I say warningly. I'm sure there's a lot I could do to a painting before completely destroying it. This is my mind we're talking about. I'll have no compunctions about it.

"Yes. Fine. If you somehow can practice it, it would help." He says reluctantly. "As you survived so far, your Occlumency should be gaining in strength soon, the side effects lessening or disappearing, with proper practices." He stresses the last words intently.

I do have a way…

I certainly haven't been planning on interfering to a level even comparable to what I am thinking right now… But… My mind has been violated. How much longer can I passively sit at the sidelines - scared to make a move?

Out of all the things in the magical world that could happen, anything messing with my mind is my absolute worst case scenario. Without my mind…

Death is preferable to losing my faculties or all my memories. At least I have survived my own meddling, which will apparently now lead to an even stronger affinity for mind magic. Just a momentary weakness for now, until I fix my own mistakes.

I've been making too many mistakes.

No… It is time to start acting. Canon is shot to shit anyway. So upending the canon board won't have the consequences it once had. I can't afford to care if I suffer the loss of my knowledge of how future events go, when it's already so completely different I can't predict it anyway.

"Ominis, you will teach me Occlumency, properly. I can't afford to accept any silence from you, from now on." I say harshly. "I will have someone to practice Legilimency on, shortly…"

Sebastian applauds me, a wry smirk on his face, "Now that's more like it, how can you say no to that, Ominis?" His smirk grows sharper, "A Slytherin Hufflepuff, who would have thought…"

Ominis frowns, slumped down against a chair in his portrait, "I… Will help with Occlumency." He says slowly, very reluctantly. He straightens immediately after, brow furrowed, "I will not assist in Legilimency against any innocent!" He states firmly. Unbendingly. "Or a student!" He adds quickly. Realizing that not all students necessarily fell into the innocent category. He had been a Slytherin and a Gaunt after all.

I chuckle, if there's a tinge of hysteria to it, no one calls me out on it. "Don't worry, Ominis… This particular rat is far from innocent…"

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Authors Note:

Occlumency is mind magic. Not something taught to students for a reason. The mistakes harm you much worse than flubbing a Transfiguration.

Lucas will need to work hard at mind magic now, although in essence he lucked out and didn't harm himself too badly. Essentially he locked away much of his old self by constantly putting away those memories as less important for the future.

I don't believe in the whole idea of Tom Riddle being born evil. That said, he had a pretty natural grasp of his magic, not unreasonable that he started messing around with mind magic due to being a somewhat natural Legilimency user, and somehow destroyed/turned off his ability to feel most things.

That's my head canon anyway.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Here's this weekend's update, next week will be Waking Nightmare and hopefully I'll be able to keep this schedule going.

Bit of time passes by, we'll hit Halloween, and plots still abound - they just make no sense anymore.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

Hope you enjoy it.

 

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Severus waited impatiently for the last arrival for this absolutely pointless meeting. Once a month Albus insisted on meeting all four heads in a 'casual' setting in the sitting room attached to the headmaster's office.

A pure Hufflepuff setting - even if the colors tended towards beige and cream white, instead of yellow and black. The thick beige wooly carpet and the large soft armchairs spread around the marble fireplace gave off a comfortable air - that never failed to make Severus uncomfortable. How could anyone stand all the softness and fake safety the room offered. Here and there were signs of Hogwarts - lion paws as feet for the table - ravens in flight in reliefs across the fireplace - badgers happily frolicking on the curtains hiding the only window. And Albus wondered why Severus disliked the room so - when the only sign of the serpents belonging at Hogwarts at all - were painted on the tea set they utilized.

A tea set Severus gave the headmaster at Christmas - back when he'd been a new insecure professor trying to ingratiate himself to the man holding his leash.

Albus might be the greatest wizard in known memory - but even those with great vision had blinders. At least to his credit, the man knew it, and employed Severus to call him to the carpet when he failed to take his Slytherins into account.

Always.

Or when he failed to conceive of the thought that not everyone that fought on the same side were necessarily allies. Albus could be ruthless when necessary, true. He just failed to use it as the first avenue of response.

Severus stared impatiently at the door as his fellow heads chatted amicably. They already had staff meetings regularly - further proving the pointlessness of these get-togethers. Severus was not hired to socialize. He detested teaching and would much prefer to sink into potions research and let this rotten world sink into the abyss where it belonged. Any light in the world had already been ruined beyond help - the rest of it could burn as far as he was concerned. Especially rotten ungrateful children. How anyone could wish to procreate when these specimens of mediocrity ended up as the result, Severus would never understand.

Unfortunately his youthful indiscretions had stained his soul to the degree he'd need the rest of his life to atone, and gave him an unbreakable vow around his neck that ensured he'd follow Albus until the end - even if the purpose of his vow had already utterly failed. If anything he only continued on due to pure stubbornness and a need for revenge on the wizard that had taken everything from Severus. He'd stomach a million twinkling eyes and offers for lemon drops for the chance to see the Dark Lord on the ground - broken and defeated.

If he was a lesser man he might even piss on the bastard's grave if they allowed him one.

Finally the door opened and Albus entered, immediately quieting the other heads. How the Headmaster could manage to be late to a meeting that is literally next to his office… Severus was half convinced he only did it because he knew how much it annoyed him. The other fools in the office would have waited until the end times, secure in the knowledge that if Albus was making them wait - it must be for a good reason. Severus knew the man better, he simply gained amusement in his ways of annoying or prodding at people.

"Oh, no need to quiet down on my account, do continue dear friends." Albus said genially, casually flicking his hand and making the tea set pour them all a cup, milk and sugar and honey floating over the table to deposit just the right amount according to their preferences.

Severus rolled his eyes surreptitiously while the others gave their thanks, what a show off… He thought snidely, never having seen the point himself in such casual and wasteful displays of power. He brought a flask out from his robes and poured a liberal amount into his tea, making it briefly steam extra hot. He'd need the alcohol to get through small talk and being friendly. What a colossal waste of his time.

"Really Severus, you have classes in the morning." Minerva sniffed, taking a sip of her tea, peering at him judgementally.

"How many old and expensive bottles of whiskey do you currently have stashed in your quarters again, Minerva?" Severus replied, a sardonic eyebrow raised. He'd hardly take judgment on alcohol intake from a scot.

"Never you mind that." Minerva answered back primly, but her eyes were amused. His old teacher was the only one - besides Albus - that seemed to find his acerbic personality amusing - to his discontent. It did make for interesting verbal spars now and then. And a monthly game of chess that Severus didn't completely hate. It was better than these meetings at least, and thankfully devoid of the Headmaster.

"A small nip now and then is good for the soul." Filius said sagely, "Teaching children is both wondrous and terrible!" He chuckled, taking a large sip of his tea - imbued with so much honey it was an abomination in Severus' opinion. He preferred his drinks bitter, how anyone could stand such cloying sweetness - it baffled the mind.

"Filius! Don't you join them as well, we're supposed to set an example for the students." Pomona chided, hiding her smirk behind her teacup.

Severus knew the greenhouses well enough to know that what Pomona had in there certainly beat alcohol in taking the edge off, so she could hardly act smugly over them. Alcohol was perfectly legal - some of her crossbreeds were certainly at the edges of legality - if not a step over. Or several dozen.

Some of them had Severus question which of the two of them is really the Death Eater spy…

Being a spy never really leaves you, the things Severus knew about his fellow heads - things he'd learned over the past decade - would likely shock them. And each of them would face fines if not worse for some of them. It took a special kind of wizard or witch to give their life to Hogwarts. Power and quirks tended to go hand in hand.

Luckily Severus was one of the rare powerful few - who did not develop such quirks.

Albus being the prime example… Severus watched the headmaster as he expertly inserted himself into the conversation and steered it to wherever his insatiable curiosity would lead him to today. Easily managing his three fellow heads, putting them at ease, drawing out tidbits of information they'd likely not share in other settings. Minerva, Filius and Pomona were amongst the top 1 percent of powerful mages in Europe, Albus had personally drawn them all into his circle and made them feel indebted to him for it, not that he likely intended it as such. If he had been a Slytherin, Severus would applaud his cunning and skill. Unfortunately Albus really did feel a kinship to them, even Severus. It's what made it so hard to resist when the headmaster pulled on their strings, the knowledge that he did it for benevolent reasons, for the good of Hogwarts or all of Britain.

He also dressed as flamboyantly as a peacock and enjoyed immensely to frustrate other people - especially those with power. Constantly creating problems for himself that he then enjoyed puzzling through and solving. If Voldemort had never appeared, Severus had the feeling the headmaster might have done something stupid in his quest for new and interesting things to do and learn - without the distraction of another dark lord to defeat. To his credit, the headmaster was aware of his quirks, and had placed himself in high positions in the ICW and the Wizengamot to keep himself busy.

Severus continued to be on the periphery as the chatter continued, barely contributing to the conversation, watching as Albus set Filius general excitement to rest, soothed Pomona's natural anxiety over her students and ruffled Minerva's feathers over hers. Severus was just thankful that when those twinkling eyes turned to him with a knowing look, they didn't linger, and he moved on to query Minerva about the Potter brat.

Severus sneered, hands clenched around his tea cup as Minerva professed her elation at how polite the boy was, and her disappointment that he didn't seem to share the skill or studious nature of his parents.

"The boy is useless in potions as well, perhaps the killing curse addled his mind." He snidely interjected, taking some glee in seeing Minerva puff up, as usual when one of her lions were under attack. He ignored Albus' disapproving look. He'd be damned if he had to pretend to be nice to James Potter's spawn even in private.

"He's fairly competent in charms, I rather say the boy seems somewhat shy and unsure of things." Filius jumped in before Minerva could comment, disappointing Severus.

The only fun he could have in these meetings was the back and forth with Minerva. He frowned at the Ravenclaw head, "He's a braggart and attention seeker." He waved a hand dismissively, "Filch already caught him and the youngest Weasley trying to enter the third corridor in their first week." No different than James Potter, can't even last a week before trying to make a spectacle out of himself… He thought with disgust. He couldn't even find a speck of Lily within the boy, James Potter somehow managing to ruin even her child.

"And why was I not made aware of this, Severus?" Minerva straightened in her seat, giving him a disapproving look.

"Filch reported it to me." Severus drawled, a smirk settling on his face at the annoyance he saw briefly appear in the transfiguration mistress's eyes. Filch regularly breached protocol when it came to reporting a student's wrongdoings - as Severus was more likely to punish them harshly.

"If it was their first week, you said? They could simply have been lost." Pomona said charitably, always willing to believe the best of a student. Severus and Minerva's eyes met and they both rolled their eyes, Hufflepuffs.

"Harry grew up with muggles, he is not as knowledgeable of this world as some, he'll just need an adjustment period, I am sure you will all give him enough time to settle in." Albus spoke up, using his twinkling eyes and grandfatherly persona to immediately ensure they all took a soft approach to the brat. Severus sneered at the headmaster, he'd be damned if he gave Potter any more special treatment then he was already getting. Severus doubted the others even noticed the familiar use of Potter's first name by the Headmaster.

"I do notice that he seems somewhat thin and ill dressed, as well as withdrawn. Are you sure he's being treated alright?" Pomona fretted, eyeing Albus with steel eyes despite her anxious appearance.

For a Hufflepuff, she could be vicious when it came to her students. As more than one parent had found out, Severus sometimes wished he could utilize her for the Slytherin parents; his own position made any meetings with them an exercise in futility. He could hardly be the Dark Lord's spy nestled into the ranks of Dumbledore and then turn around and chastise parents for using dark curses on their children. Such things would make its rounds to his old comrades and put him in a bad position.

The fact Dumbledore saw no issue in sacrificing his Slytherins well being over his position as a spy is one of the reasons Snape never fully trusted the man, even now.

"Surely he's had a checkup with Madame Pomfrey." Filius interjected quickly with a relaxed mien, before anyone else could follow up on Pomona's query, "She'd have brought the issue to his head of house if there was a problem."

Eyes turned to Minerva who shook her head, "Nothing has been brought to my attention." She confirmed, while still looking troubled. It still succeeded in settling Pomona down, but Severus eyed Albus shrewdly, noticing the man never answered, due to Filius' timely intervention. The half goblin charms master was likely the most loyal to Dumbledore of all the senior staff, as he'd likely struggle to find any work anywhere else in Britain with his half breed status. And Minerva was notoriously busy as head of the most troublesome house as well as deputy to a Headmaster who spent half the year dealing with the ICW and the Ministry. Something like this could certainly slip by her if Albus intended to.

Albus was remarkably tight lipped and secretive about the Potter brat. And Filius never questions any action the headmaster asked for.

Had he deflected the subject on a signal from Albus? Severus hadn't caught any such signal. Or was it just happenstance? He did not believe in such, not when it came to the Headmaster. Over a decade on from Lily's death and Severus still didn't know where Potter had been placed. He'd even gone to the length of visiting Petunia - just in case Albus had dumped the child on her - but could not spot any wards or any sign of another child living in their residence. For the best really, Severus wouldn't wish Petunia on any child, even the Potter spawn.

All children entering Hogwarts do as a matter of fact receive a health check-up - even the purebloods - a long standing Hogwarts tradition. Severus dropped the matter from his mind, the Potter brat was fine, just more special treatment just for him being small. His lip curled in disgust, where had all this concern been when a small thin Severus Snape arrived at Hogwarts.

Severus' mood was thoroughly ruined even further at those thoughts, he spent the rest of their meeting sipping his alcohol infused tea, refusing to be drawn into any discussion on the new first years or the troubles some of the older years still caused - Weasley twins - or any other petty business that was left to discuss.

Of course, when Albus finally dismissed them from this torturous mandatory get-together, he caught Severus' eyes.

Severus inwardly groaned, before sitting back down, seething. "I still have a matter to discuss with the headmaster." He told his colleagues semi-politely, as the others had stopped to wait for him. Merlin forbid the headmaster could just speak up and say that he needed him to stay behind, no, Severus had to ask to stay behind.

As the door closed behind the other head of houses, and the privacy charms that cover the room are again activated, Severus scowled at the headmaster, "What could you possibly want to discuss tonight, that we haven't already been over?"

Albus sighed wearily, sinking into his own armchair, steepling his fingers in front of him, "I am worried about Quirinus." He said plainly.

Severus frowned, studying the old headmaster critically, he looked tired. "You're already having him watched constantly, I'm practically stalking the damned man after classes, what more can you be worried about?"

"He's too obvious." Albus stroked his beard, eyes not twinkling for once as he stared into the fire, "If he indeed has sold his soul to Tom, he'd not announce himself so boldly."

Severus scowled, "Or he is playing a different game, I have brought this up before, Albus. He might simply desire the stone himself, there has been no unusual whispers or movements amongst his supporters." Well, no more than usual with Malfoy politicking and gathering resources…

"You don't believe in that yourself, Severus." Albus chided, "Quirinus was a decent enough man, if a somewhat withdrawn and solitary one. He has returned from his sabbatical as something altogether different."

"He could have held those views of muggles the entire time, it's not like any of us spent much time with the man." Severus grumbled, but not with much effort, it was he who had brought Quirrell's change to Albus' notice before the school year started.

"I do appreciate that you are as always the devil's advocate in our discussions, but perhaps tonight we can both agree that Quirinus is a problem, and discuss how to deal with it." Albus said dryly, peering at him, "You've been in a mood lately, is Quirinus giving you that much trouble?"

Severus sneered at the idea the former muggle studies professor would give him any trouble. "Hardly, he's easy enough to track, and he hasn't been near the third corridor… No, my mind is focused on something else."

Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth, waiting patiently for Severus to continue. One of Albus favorite tactics, using silence to make the other person talk.

Severus hesitated for a moment, he hadn't been intending to bring this up to the headmaster at all. Perhaps it was needed, the headmaster could make more sense of the situation then he has so far, perhaps, "It is about Lucas Greenwood." He said reluctantly.

"The young muggleborn student you introduced to the wizarding world?" Albus asked curiously, "How interesting." He continued, with barely hidden delight. "Tell me more, Severus."

Severus rolled his eyes, the headmaster loved his puzzles, but in this instance it might come in handy, because Severus could not figure it out at all. "When I first met him at the orphanage, the child had numerous awards depicting an above average intelligence, further investigation performed after I dropped him back off - confirmed he had skipped several years of schooling and was already looking at possibly muggle universities." Severus had utilized Lucius to use his ministry contacts to dig through the muggle information on the child. He hadn't cared enough to waste time looking for himself, and Lucius owed him several favors.

"Unusual, but not unheard of, but why would you investigate this further, Severus? That is very unlike you." Albus' eyes were twinkling again as he focused entirely on Severus' tale. Severus sneered at the twinkling old coot, he was no doubt imagining that Severus cared for the child, which couldn't be further from the truth.

"The child had Occlumency shields, not well built, since I could detect them so easily, but there. I questioned him on if he had previous teachings of magic and he was truthful in denying it." Severus scowled, the child made no sense, he should be dead or mad.

"Why did you not come to me, a natural muggleborn Occlumens is a danger to himself." Albus grew serious as he pondered the situation, sending Severus a chiding look, "You should have arranged a tutor at least, someone to stabilize him."

Severus scoffed, unconcerned with the lazy telling off, "He seemed fine, the damage was already done - no point in rewarding him for his foolhardy explorations."

"Severus…" Albus sighed with disappointment. "He could have still received help, I'll have to arrange something…"

"No need… Somehow, I don't know how he's achieved it, but in the last few days he's shown the kind of improvement one can only find after being taught." He hissed out, displeasure radiating off him.

"This displeases you?" Albus asked, a bushy eyebrow raised in consternation.

"Don't play the fool, Albus!" Severus hissed out harshly, "Where has the boy found instructions? He can not access the restricted section of the library - I refuse to believe a first year, no matter how clever - has achieved that!"

Albus furrowed his brows, "Indeed, that is a surprise. Have you noticed anything else unusual?"

Severus nodded shortly, "He seems to have an affinity for divination of all things, and according to Madam Pince, he's accessed books for the entire curriculum of several subjects." Severus met the headmaster's curious eyes, a dark scowl on his face, "I reached out to Lucius - and he confirmed that Greenwood has scheduled both OWLs and NEWTs in several subjects for the winter holiday."

"How is Lucius? He must be happy that his son entered under your care in Slytherin." Albus asked mildly. Severus could see the thoughts flittering through the headmaster's mind, the natural Occlumency was one thing - this level of intelligence another. Perhaps Albus would for once agree with him that they needed to do something, interrogate the boy, figure out what he's hiding.

"Nevermind about Lucius. There is something going on with this child." Severus gritted out. Eyes narrowed as he stared the Headmaster down, willing him to take action.

Albus slowly shook his head, "All you've brought me is the story of a prodigy, Severus." He murmured softly, deep in thought. "A Hufflepuff prodigy." He finished mildly, as if that settled things.

Damn him and his idiotic blinders to house colors! If the boy was a Slytherin this wouldn't even be a discussion!

"It's suspicious, Albus!" He insisted, meeting his eyes again, pushing the memory of meeting Greenwood to the frontiers of his mind, allowing Albus to view it.

Albus again shook his head, more firmly this time, "No. Innocent until proven guilty, Severus." He said sternly, "I see nothing but an intelligent child, ahead of his age, perhaps, but nothing malicious."

"You're wrong." Severus scoffed, he knew he shouldn't have said anything, and as always he ended up telling Albus everything anyway, and as always his policy is to wait and see. A first year testing out in several subjects, how couldn't he see how there was something hidden in that boy.

"Possibly, I do get it wrong from time to time." Albus admits genially. "You will leave the young mister Greenwood alone, Severus." He continued, sternly, and it was a command this time. "Don't split your attention, we still have Quirinus to watch."

"Yes, Headmaster." Severus spat out bitterly.

He'd make sure to point out he was right when this all blew up in the venerable old Headmasters face.

There was definitely something going on with that child, even if he was a Hufflepuff.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

It's amazing what just a few days can do. Ominis - once over his reluctance. Advised me on how to properly perform Occlumency. Which showed me how I had been mistaken from the beginning in my approach.

I had been trying to build a mindscape, visualizing it in my head, trying to categorize and store my memories in it. Focusing my magic into my brain to try and create it. This ran entirely counter to what I should have been doing for Occlumency.

Occlumency done properly could best be described as a void, where magic is the thin outer shell of your mind, your shields so to speak, and inside, there is no magic for a Legilimency user to grasp onto, a clear mind, a void where you store your most personal thoughts for safekeeping. It's how you can fool a legilimency practitioner, you'd attach fake memories and thoughts to your shell - so that when it was 'pierced' only the fake memories could be delved into. The attacker believes they've entered your mind. If you perfected the void, an attacker would never see it, lending credence to your false memories and thoughts, the attacker never realizing you were an Occlumens was the ultimate goal of Occlumency.

After all if the attacker believes you're hiding something they might utilize conventional means like torture or Veritaserum instead.

It's why Occlumency was such a difficult art to master, as it forced wizards and witches to clear their minds not only of thoughts, but metaphysically of magic as well. You didn't actually remove magic from your brain or anything physical of that nature in this process. You practiced clearing your mind and meditation - which I at least got right and why I could build shields at all. Yet instead of bringing all that inwards - you faced it outwards, making your innermost sanctuary a complete void of all things. Eventually mastering the ability to hide what you wanted beneath that void where a Legilimens couldn't reach.

Legilimency was an entirely magical dependent mind art, it worked by latching onto the magic in the victim - utilizing it to find what was needed as the victim's magic would be most familiar with it. The memories and thoughts being brought forward are for the most part done so by the victims own magic - the attacker just coaxing it along with their own. It was like a softer, tamer version of the Imperius curse. Likely the precursor - I'd be interested in finding out someday.

Even a half skilled Occlumens would fall to a proper Legilimency attack as they've not yet perfected the magic less void - so not all their secrets would be buried deep enough.

When a skilful Occlumens achieves the void - it makes it impossible for a Legilimency user, no matter how skilled - to find the true mind. Explaining how Snape could fool Voldemort despite his rumored skills in Legilimency.

A skilled Occlumens can also find his own memories in the void easily, without a drop of magic, as he knows where he's placed it all. That's where some of my issues come into play - as I've created a facsimile of the void and parted my mind into one fake almost void and one not - one part not able to reach into the other.

Which in a way worked the same as the void as far as my secrets go - the facsimile not likely detected according to Ominis theories. Because I used magic to create everything, before locking half of it away without magic as some sort of mental last resort safety measure, I can't access them either however - my mind is not able to differentiate between everything without the void there. Everything being done by magic and criss crossed and hidden and just all over making it an overall mess.

Just doing the exercises correctly now, has already shown me a marked improvement in my way of thinking, although I would still need years to achieve the void according to Ominis. And skill in Legilimency to pierce it all together before I can even hope to achieve that void, as a partitioned mind would make reaching that void impossible. Or I could have succeeded in creating multiple personality disorder - where I had been heading if I continued on my partition path.

I will have to remain careful as I go further ahead in magic, and not let canon and fanon theories lead me into dangerous waters again. My mindscape theories are why I've messed up Occlumency so hard. Thankfully, having survived it sane, I'll likely be a natural Legilimens and a strong Occlumens just by my magic being attuned so strongly to mind magic. Ominis and Sebastian both are of the firm belief that this attunement is why I found Divination so easy, a magic more attached to the mind than most other disciplines of magic.

Having decided now to become more proactive, I have several avenues I need to research. I'm not a Gryffindor to jump straight ahead without a plan. Most of the time. I certainly will not count on the Harry Potter way of stumbling ahead in the dark and winning by an inch at the last second.

Firstly, for my own safety, and for my curiosity of how it works, I need to acquire the Marauders map off the Weasley twins. It will take some planning - as they can literally see me coming if I start to stalk them. There's no benefit in taking the map if they know I've been after them, they'll come after me in turn.

So I'd need to find a way to surprise them completely and put them down without catching a glimpse of me, as well as find a warding I can put on it, or any of my belongings for that matter - but especially the map. Hardly any point in stealing the map if the twins can just Accio it out of my pockets at any point.

I doubt the Marauders map shows Pettigrew on it, no doubt he'd be able to protect himself as one of its creators. Yet it will come in handy anyway, and if I could recreate it - I could keep a copy once I'll inevitably hand the original to Harry.

And that's my second avenue to research. Pettigrew. I have already confirmed that Scabbers exists and has a missing toe - currently Ron's pet, as usual. Yet I am not going to take any chances. In this world I doubt Pettigrew is quite as pathetic of a wizard, although it does make me wonder why he's spent his time as a rat…

Perhaps something I'll find out when I practice my Legilimency on him, if all things work out. No matter how clever or powerful he is, if I catch him as a rat and put him in the Animagus cage I got - he won't get away. Not something I had planned to do anytime soon, but it's necessary to start on Legilimency and he's my best option. At least if I want to do it and not feel bad about it. Plus Ominis will throw another snit and refuse to talk to me if I don't have someone irredeemable to use for the practice.

Ideally if I can wait until after Christmas to get him, that would work better. With the Marauders map in my hands by then - hopefully. I could catch Harry sneaking around in his invisibility cloak and 'borrow' it to sneak into Gryffindor tower and stun Scabbers. I'm not sure I want to wait that long however, it might be worth it to come up with another way to get in unnoticed.

Thirdly, Quirrell. I can not allow myself to be alone with him again for any reason, so I need to somehow explain that to my detention buddies, Harry and Hermione - without giving the actual reason why. He's creepy enough any fear of being alone with him shouldn't be hard to explain to them. Now putting it into action where they can get away with refusing to allow me to be alone with him in detention might be harder.

Quirrell remaining at all is not ideal for me. Why wait the entire year if there's any possible way I can get rid of him now. If he is possessed, a tip to the Aurors should be enough. I would have to research spells and potions to erase any traces however. I likely can't hide that the tip comes from Hogwarts, but if I can hide any way to pinpoint what student sent it, they would have too many possibilities to even bother investigating the tipster. Ideally if I could fake it as a professor being the culprit - it would add weight to the accusation, even if anonymous.

More research it is then, and I already have several entire curriculums to study, and Occlumency lessons I can not afford to skimp on, and the time I need to spend with my friends to not go insane - or have them chase me down to make me socialize anyway.

Cutting down on some sleep might be the best bet for a month or two. Just to get this all settled. I can't allow Quirrell - and it has to be him, who else could it be? - to obliviate me anymore. I have to get Pettigrew, to fix what I've done to my own mind. And the Marauders map is essential if I'm going to continue to avoid Quirrell or whoever else might be a threat. It would also allow me to track Filch better on the off chance he's actually up to no good or replaced. Perhaps another tip to the Aurors…

Plan in place, I exit the Undercroft. I have a Halloween feast to attend. This time there's no crying Hermione in the bathroom - I made sure of it. The golden trio is all attending the feast, no need to run off and fight a troll, which I sincerely doubt is happening anyway. I just can't see this Hogwarts being careless enough or this Quirrell to be quite so stupid - when he's apparently known for his affinity with trolls.

No way anyone manages to smuggle a troll or beastie through the wards without Dumbledore noticing. Not in this world, I'm almost certain of it. I just hope this Dumbledore isn't the let's test Harry Potter kind of Dumbledore…

If Quirrell does let a troll in, all the better in a way, as long as my friends are all in place at the feast. It will give me something else to use to send a bunch of Aurors after him. Even the suspicion might be enough for an interrogation at least - and who knows what might happen with all that.

I enter the Great Hall - the great doors opening automatically for a student, eyes immediately scanning the tables, making a headcount. My Ravenclaws are at their table, the golden trio all together at the Gryffindor table - fuck yes, fuck you Halloween! I head to the Hufflepuff table, where all my Puffs are as well. No one I care about is missing. Perhaps the Halloween curse is just not here this year for Harry. I arrive just in time, the food appearing on the tables just as I sit down.

My eyes flicker to the head table, I frown as I notice Quirrell at the table, as is Filch. There goes my two only suspects - both attending. I turn away somewhat relieved despite it all, even if it means I can't pin a break in on either of them - at least the feast will go on safely.

"Where have you been again? You're gone all the time, Lucas?" Susan asks me, exasperated.

"And don't say studying, we know you're not in the library half the time you say you are!" Hannah says, pointing her fork at me menacingly. "Spill, mister!"

"And you, Nev?" I ask amusedly, might as well get all the questions out at the same time.

Neville shrugs, "There hasn't been any Lucas related incidents for weeks, so I'm fine with whatever you're doing." He says that so serenely as well.

"Neville, you're supposed to back us up!" Hannah groans, flicking a pea at him.

Neville stops the pea with the flat of his hand, just sighing, "I told you to leave it alone." He points out.

"You're not even curious?" Susan asks, blue eyes big and wide, looking at Neville pleadingly.

Neville blushes slightly, avoiding her eyes, "Yeah, but he'll tell us when he feels like it, leave off it." He mutters.

Why do all cute girls use puppy eyes so efficiently? Is that like, just the magic of girls? I think remembering briefly the face of my sister doing the same, before the memory slinks away again.

"Neville, you're definitely my third favorite friend!" I say seriously, clapping him on the back.

"Third? Who's first?" Hannah demands to know.

I raise an eyebrow, smirking at the two girls, "Two paintings I've gotten to know lately." I say, knowing it will annoy them. Neville just concentrates on his food, shaking his head. The guy really knows how much of a shit disturber I am, it's quite nice how quickly he's caught on.

"You're putting a painting above me?" Hannah asks, adding, "Us, I mean." When she sees Susan's look.

"Yup!" I say cheerfully, popping the p. Serving myself from the abundance of food that likely only doesn't crush the table underneath it due to magic. I fucking love house elves. I don't care what Hermione will say - I want one.

"Su will be heartbroken to hear she's considered less of a friend than a painting…" Susan says slyly, her eyes filled with amusement.

Hannah giggles, fistbumping her friend, I'm quite happy the fist bump is going around so easily. I'm a real wizarding world pioneer. Also I'm not quite that easy anymore…

"Su gets me, she'll understand." I say casually. Refusing to let myself be defeated again by the threat of Su making sad eyes at me… At least while she's not at the table to actually do it…

"Oh, come on, just tell us!" Hannah whines.

I roll my eyes, I never intended to keep my actions completely hidden anyway, although they won't be getting details. "I am just practicing spells and divination stuff, it's way ahead of where you guys are and I know you aren't really interested in studying ahead, so I do it alone." I explain as succinctly as I can without revealing the details around the Undercroft.

Susan and Hannah both pout at me, and I turn bewildered to Neville who shakes his head, "They've made up all these fancy theories so now they're disappointed it's something simple." He explains to me.

"Now I want to know what you thought I was doing?" I ask the two girls, intrigued.

Susan snorts, giving Hannah a teasing look, "Hannah thought you and that Tonks girls might be dating."

"I'm eleven…" I say dryly, shaking my head at Hannah's continued fascination with romance. And as hot and nice as Tonks is, she's A, too young for me still, and B way too crazy. Rules of my old life still apply - don't stick it in crazy. Also she's obviously got that Black heritage that is more pronounced here then in canon… They were all kind of crazy - Narcissa and Draco being the most 'normal' Black descendants. Even Andromeda couldn't be called normal, running off to marry a muggleborn in the middle of a blood war where her family was on the other side. Tonks is obviously an adrenaline junky and a bit on the crazy side too - so nope, all kinds of nope.

"It could happen…" Hannah mumbles, cheeks red. "It's more likely than your idea," She fires back at Susan, "There's no way he's hatching a dragon!"

I nod seriously, "That's right, that's in April or May."

My friends all stare at me, Neville groaning in annoyance.

"What?" I ask, with a shit-eating grin on my face.

"When you say it like that, I almost believe there will be a dragon." Neville complains.

Susan and Hannah both nod vigorously, Hannah asking quietly, "Did you see that? Like divining stuff?"

"You know what, no comment." I say, barely able to hold back giggles. It would be hilarious if the golden trio shares the knowledge of Norbert with my friend group come spring. Divination might come in handy as an excuse when I simply know something and have no good reason or anyway to explain why I know it. Although it might not happen as I can't see why Quirrell would need to bribe Hagrid to figure out how to get past the Cerberus.

Further conversation is interrupted as Dumbledore suddenly shoots out of his seat - spry for such an old man - a house elf popping away from his side as he raises his wand, shouting, "STUDENTS -"

He doesn't get further as the doors to the Great Hall are smashed to kindling - as a snarling Cerberus smashes right through, it skids along the floor as all three heads snarl madly at the students, viscera dripping from three massive jaws, it's eyes wide in rage and pain. A translucent barrier snaps into place from the Headmaster - saving the students from the thousands of small shards of wood that crash into the shield barely a second later. It is quickly followed by the Cerberus - who's magic resistant hide makes the barrier fizzle out as the beast slams into it. It quickly settles itself letting loose three piercing howls and the beast swivels - all three heads focusing on the Gryffindor table - as it prepares to leap - many students still frozen to their seats. Students from all houses scramble away from the tables in desperation - leaving their frozen companions behind, the cacophony of noise deafening, as students scream and cry and professor's shout out instructions that are going completely unheeded in the chaos.

Personally I've cast a shield around my friends and myself, dragging them backwards with me, towards the head table, eyes desperately scanning the Ravenclaw table for Padma and Su. Dumbledore will no doubt protect Harry in time so I'm not so worried about the Gryffindors. My breathing is erratic and wild as I face an actual mythological monster - even if from afar. I can sense the absolute pressure of the beast, it has a presence, it's magic roaring out in waves announcing itself as the biggest predator in the room. Just the danger exuding from this beast has my magic churning, readying for a battle to the death.

This all takes place in just a few seconds. The Cerberus does not get more than one step towards the Gryffindors as the professors stop it in its place.

The stone floor of Hogwarts itself rises around the beast, forming itself into grasping arms that lock around the legs of the Cerberus - McGonagall somehow having arrived in front of the Gryffindor table in just a few seconds. She continues to wave her wand as her transfiguration ensnares the Cerberus. The stone cracking as the Cerberus flexes its muscles - McGonagall transfigurating some of the stone into iron, great big manacles snapping around the Cerberus - stone arms winding in and around them, adding extra pressure in holding the beast. There's a magical aura visible around the Transfiguration Mistress as she concentrates - the Cerberus fighting in vain - it's magical resistance helpless facing magic that manipulates its surroundings in such strength as the deputy Headmistress is capable of. Watching McGonagall's livid face and the control over magic she's showcasing, I'm in awe and I'm wondering how it was that anyone would dare fight this woman in the last war.

Roots suddenly sprout from the remaining stone arms, reaching out and further ensnaring the heads of the beast, growing and wiggling itself around the jaws of the Cerberus, snapping its mouths shut, forcing the Cerberus to stand completely still, snarling helplessly - coming out as more of a whine with its jaws shut tightly - it's saliva melting the roots just for them to grow back in an endless cycle. Sprout standing in front of us, joining in on McGonagall's spellwork. Not only are they roots, but I recognize the moss sprouting along them - firemoss, the smoke it's creating - from being rubbed between the roots and the beast, not only working for inducing pain relief, but I'd read that it gives a sense of euphoria. She's working on the beast's pain and rage. I wonder briefly if Sprout carried seeds with her at all times, or if she conjured a magical plant and made it grow around the beast? Hogwarts professors are badass! I can't help but think, slightly in awe.

Pure darkness covers the beast's eyes suddenly as several harps are conjured into existence and charmed to play a soothing lullaby. Flitwick approaches the beast itself, periodically sending silent spells into the torso of the beast, by my guess some sort of variation of the sleeping charm, a Cerberus is pretty spell resistant but if anyone can put one to sleep it's Flitwick. Music is supposed to do it as well, but so far the Cerberus is still standing strong. I'm almost disappointed Flitwicks magical contribution isn't half as cool as the other two Professors, for all that it's still utilizing three separate spells at the same time to great effect on a class XXXX beast.

I look over to the nearby head table, and I'm not the only one wondering why Dumbledore and Snape haven't assisted. Dumbledore could probably have taken it down single handedly, and he had apparently had a few seconds warning too, which… Who released the Cerberus, and got it so far towards the Great Hall that Dumbledore only got warned at the last second by a house elf?

Both of them stand by the head table with wands out - ostensibly for the XXXX class beast, but both are keeping Quirrell in their sights. The defense professor calmly sits at the table - where he's been the entire feast, still sipping tea, relaxed as can be.

I have to strain my ears to hear over the sound of music and the weakening snarls of the Cerberus, but I still catch some of the conversation.

"- the Defense professor, don't you think you should be assisting, Quirinus?" Snape calls out coldly.

Professor Quirrell smiles guilelessly, "You seem to have it well in hand already, although one wonders why on earth a Cerberus is kept in a school full of children." He shakes his head disapprovingly.

"This is not normal behavior, the beast has somehow been bespelled, any theories?" Snape drawls, Dumbledore standing silent vigil at his side, eyes on the Cerberus, which is slowly falling under Flitwicks spells, or his music. The students have somewhat calmed down now that they see that the threat has been conquered.

"A few, but such shan't be shared while the entire student body listens in, they're traumatized enough already , the poor dears." Quirrell says mockingly. His thin lips drawn into a satisfied smirk as he stares down the Potions professor.

"Severus, call the DMLE." Dumbledore says finally, with a heavy sigh, stepping away from the head table, "Students, everything is under control, the beast will be moved shortly, please remain in your seats for now, you will be escorted to your common rooms for a nice cup of hot cocoa by your heads of houses momentarily." He calls out, his voice easily reaching every corner of the Great Hall - a wandless, silent, sonorous no doubt.

As the beast succumbs completely, the students make their way back to their seats, in some cases very hesitantly. But as always with students, soon enough there's whispers all across the hall, going over the event and theorizing on who's responsible.

The Hufflepuff table is no different. Theories fly around wildly. My own eyes are narrowed in on the head table. Quirrell and Filch have been here at the feast - so who released Fluffy? Its whole purpose as a guard dog lay in the fact it's very difficult to put a Cerberus down with spells alone. Unless you're firing killing curses. No student could have bespelled the beast and somehow gotten it out of the third corridor and down to the Great Hall in almost complete silence - almost catching Dumbledore off guard. I'd perhaps believe Voldemort capable - but Quirrell is here?

Who the hell else is there!?

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The Aurors descend on Hogwarts like a swarm of locusts, all classes are put on hold while the Aurors investigate the castle - the once future minister of magic, Rufus Scrimgeour grimly overseeing the process - while staring down any student that dares to speak above a whisper during meal times.

Students aren't part of the investigation as the Aurors neither believe this incident stemmed from the magic of someone not yet graduated - nor - more pragmatically, there is the inherent difficulty in paperwork and red tape when it comes to any official inquiry with a minor in the magical world - which hardly makes it worth the effort. Susan speaks very clearly on the subject - ministry bureaucracy issues a likely fervent complaint from her aunt in the safety of their home.

Neither Dumbledore nor Scrimgeour likely wants to drag the pureblood elite into Hogwarts for every instance of discussing events with a family member of theirs. Such red tape doesn't really exist for muggleborns - as the Headmaster holds in loco parentis for all muggleborns at Hogwarts. That said there isn't really anyone on either the Hogwarts side or the Ministry side that would suspect a muggleborn student for such advanced magic - so there isn't any interrogation for us either. A sad reality of how the magical world thinks - but useful for now, as I could hardly arouse suspicions on Quirrell by outright accusing the man.

That likely wouldn't end well for me.

This situation does give me a real opportunity however. While there are no classes, we aren't completely secluded to the common rooms - due to heavy Auror presence keeping the corridors safe.

The classes aren't postponed because of risk to us after all. They're postponed because the professors are the only suspects. The incident after all is already over with. By Scrimgeour and Dumbledore's fairly equitable conversations at the head table at dinners - the Aurors - or at least Scrimgeour - are aware of the third corridor.

I can't imagine this politeness if the ministry had been unaware of Dumbledore's little trap. Makes me wonder if in canon someone had known as well - at least in the DMLE, as Fudge surely had no clue. How else could all these disastrous events happen without Aurors descending on the castle in canon. Well here at least it seems they're more on the ball, not that they seem to be finding anything or any suspects.

With Quirrell having been at the feast and therefore succeeded in being amongst the professor's least suspect to the Aurors - although hopefully someone like Scrimgeour would suspect him based on him being the defense professor alone. Surely the curse is well known by now. Several professors had been absent for the feast - as had Hagrid. And all of them were at the moment under suspicion. It seems history might repeat itself - as Fluffy is Hagrids, and he therefore makes a viable suspect. Considering he got expelled from Hogwarts for letting loose a beast on the castle…

Suspicion alone isn't enough to haul someone off to the ministry for a more in depth questioning however - thankfully a change from canon in regards to Hagrid - not so much in regard to Quirrell. One in depth interrogation might reveal such things as a possession. If only I could ensure Quirrell is seen as that suspect over Hagrid. Surely Dumbledore must suspect him - for his rhetoric if nothing else. And surely he's shared this with Scrimgeour. I just need to give them something they can use.

There has not yet been such intrusions as searching the professor's quarters or offices - but the longer that no evidence is forthcoming - the likelier such a search will be. I have no hope of breaking into Quirrell's office - certainly not undetected. But I don't need to. If I plant something that shows up on any magical scans right outside of his office - it will be automatically attributed to Quirrell. Especially if it's something like Potions residue - something potentially spilled if a professor is leaving his office in a hurry.

It might not be enough to drag Quirrell in, it might even point them at Snape instead. That's a risk I'm willing to take. I wish I could do more to set up the situation, but I have to be realistic, anything more involved from me might lead to my own capture. And I can not explain to the Aurors why exactly I'm trying to frame professor Quirrell - or survive Quirrell afterwards if they think it a schoolboy prank and let me go into his clutches.

Or perhaps the best of both worlds, the residue makes Quirrell suspect Snape is framing him… And then they both duel to the death.

One can wish.

Two days of suspended classes and nosy Aurors and I'm finally alone - in the Undercroft, using Sebastian and Ominis knowledge to brew a potion that even with me being well ahead of the first year curriculum is beyond me without assistance.

It's technically a dark potion as it requires quite a lot of blood. Its difficulty lies in the need for quite expensive ingredients and in the absolute concentration and painful attention to detail needed in the stirring and making of the potion.

As I finally realize the turquoise hue that my two portrait enclosed friends told me to look for - I take the cauldron of the flame. Thankful for small mercies. Without them I would be stuck with first - fourth year potions at best. Hardly evidence of a plot from an adult. It's slightly annoying that I keep going through my resources at such a speed, the potions lab in the Undercroft being rapidly depleted of rare ingredients that likely took a long time to gather.

"This should be enough for an arrest - even if it isn't enough to actually see him sentenced." I breathe out, taking a step back from the cauldron - utterly covered in sweat and feeling a headache coming on from the absolute focus it had required for the last five hours.

"Just don't be caught before planting the evidence." Sebastian points out dryly, "This potion was restricted even in our time."

"And do not use it, I only agreed to teach you this because of your insistence that this dark lord has latched onto your defense professor." Ominis reminds me sharply.

I nod tiredly, "Yes, yes I know. I will be careful, no one suspects a first year of carrying something dark anyway." I ignore Ominis as he's repeated the same words in different ways for the past 5 plus hours.

I eye the turquoise potion. So pretty for something so sinister. Requiring the blood of seven different magical beasts as well as three drops of blood from a wizard - and a host of other very expensive ingredients I'll not be able to replace for years. It's a potion based on the Imperius curse - not really viable on humans unless they're continuously fed it - but for enslaving magical beasts - it's perfect. According to Sebastian and Ominis its creator had used it to control Dementors in an attempt to attack the Ministry and had subsequently been defeated - kissed - and his potions and spells erased by the ministry. Except the Gaunts had held a tome once upon a time - one Ominis had come into possession of and Sebastian had read in his quest for a cure for his sister. Obscure, almost erased knowledge, is the perfect foil for my plot - as no one would suspect me.

Of course I didn't use my blood either - I'm not an idiot. I surreptitiously pricked a Slytherin seventh year with several needles. If the Aurors can somehow track the blood from the potion they'll find him - not me. I'd feel guilty - but anyone with the last name Carrow is probably a monster anyway.

No matter what Ominis says - I will be keeping the rest of the potion under stasis. There are too many magical beasts that might be a threat or come to be useful for me to discard it so easily.

The potion should - due to the high amount of blood utilized - set off the Aurors spells like crazy. Or so Sebastian says, whose uncle was an Auror back then, so hopefully he knows what he's talking about. And considering the issue at hand is a rampaging magical beast - a potion to control beasts, one that could be applied before one goes to a feast for example, would be a strike against Quirrell… Or Snape.

Honestly, whether he's on our side or not - in this effed up world I can hardly trust him either way so I'm fine with Snape taking the fall too.

I carefully fill a small vial with the aptly named enslaving potion. Ensuring I get none of it on myself, it would hardly do to have the Aurors spells light me up if I happened to walk into one by accident.

"Wish me luck." I mumble to the portraits, as I nervously place the small vial in my mokeskin pouch.

"Do not use it." Ominis only says sternly, before turning away in his portrait as if washing his hands of the entire situation. Sebastian gives me a grin and a shrug - both of us are too used to Ominis prickly personality to take offense.

A situation like this would have been a perfect time to have the Marauders map to ensure no one is near or in Quirrell's office. It is annoying that my decision to become proactive in matters is followed by an immediate situation that I am not equipped to take advantage of to the full extent.

This is a risk, but a low risk for myself, as a first-year muggleborn student, even if I'm caught carrying this vial - no one will believe I've made this complicated dark potion that is not well known. If anything I can claim being under the Imperius or claim confusion and memory problems. Something helped by the fact that if investigated - they'd find that I have indeed been obliviated. So I am not overly worried in that manner.

No, the risk is if I'm caught by Quirrell. It's why I've spent my lunch and afternoon brewing - so as to plant the evidence during dinner. As for the last two days, every professor has attended due to the Aurors. And with the Aurors still present and investigating - there's no reason why that would change today.

The Defense against the Dark Arts corridor is not far from the Undercroft and I arrive within minutes. Trying to appear as if I'm casually making my way through the castle in case any of the portraits are on the lookout for suspicious behavior. Luckily the DADA corridor is devoid of portraits - likely moved by Quirrell as it is rare for anywhere in the common areas of Hogwarts to be completely out of sight of portraits.

Quietly and with great care I unstopper the vial - pouring the small amount of potion in front of the door, as if someone could have - in a hurry - spilled a thimble while rushing out the door. I quickly walk away, making my way to the library - stopping by a bathroom first, taking care to use the vanishing spell on my vial - and to use some spells to freshen up. Even after a multitude of cleaning spells I still feel sweaty. But at least I look presentable.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as I enter the library some minutes later - spying the golden trio at a table and ambling my way over. As far as alibis goes, you couldn't beat the boy-who-lived. As far as Dumbledore is concerned anyway, and as this is Hogwarts, he is the one that matters. I'm not surprised they've skipped dinner - a lot of students have found the Great Hall stifling these past two days.

"Studying hard even while there are no classes - Hermione you've finally done it, you've corrupted the Gryffindors!" I call out cheerfully as I slide into an open seat at the table - surprising all three of them.

"I am a Gryffindor too, you know." Hermione replies distractedly, her nose deep in a musty tome on magical creatures.

"Sure you are." I say patronizingly, earning myself an exasperated look from the brainiac Gryffindor. My consistent insistence that she's secretly a Ravenclaw never fails to annoy her.

"We're not studying!" Ron protests, before he immediately corrects himself with a dirty look at Hermione who easily ignores him, "Well we're not studying." He indicates to himself and Harry, "We're just looking up stuff on the third corridor."

Hermione sighs deeply as Harry's elbow to Ron's gut is a tad late. The Weasley lets out a loud huff of air, looking wounded as he stares at his friends - until it sinks in that he's told me something they were keeping secret, and he blushes scarlet red. Not an attractive look on a Weasley.

"So, not surprisingly the Gryffindors have a death wish." I muse out loud, I tap my fingers on the table eyeing the three, "So, share, what's in there?" I ask, wondering if they're on the same path as canon.

"We didn't do it on purpose, you know." Hermione sniffs, "If it hadn't been for Harry's failed midnight duel with Malfoy we wouldn't have almost been caught by Filch and ended up in the forbidden corridor in the first place!"

Harry looks pained as he stares up at the ceiling of the library, "I've apologized for that, Hermione." From the sound of him, he's done so numerous times.

She looks disgruntled as she dives back into her book, "I'll accept it when you stop being baited by Malfoy over every little thing."

I interrupt, even though I know the sequence of events, this just has to be said, "Wait, you trusted Malfoy - let me guess, he never showed up, but Filch did?"

Ron and Harry look embarrassed as they nod silently to indicate that is exactly what happened.

"Why would you believe anything Malfoy says?" I ask, honestly curious. It had never made sense in canon either. Brave Gryffindors and all that sure, forge ahead, blah blah blah. Yet even at 11 these two shouldn't have trusted Malfoy as far as they can throw him.

"He's always attacking us - and me, a duel seemed like something he'd do." Harry defends himself.

"It was kind of my fault, I accepted before Harry could say anything." Ron says, throwing an annoyed look at Hermione when she clears her throat and adding, "Yes, Hermione, we know it was bloody stupid now!"

"So you fled from Filch and ended up in the third corridor - so what's in there?" I ask. Eyes flitting between the different members of the golden trio, all three seemingly reluctant to talk.

Eventually Harry sighs, "That Cerberus was in there…" He admits, "We ran away from there as soon as we could."

"So that's where it came from," I play along, despite knowing the gist of things, "Any idea how in Merlin's name it managed to get to the Great Hall?" I ask, curious what they've come up with.

I mean in canon they were so certain Snape was the evil guy - here it's much easier to believe it's Quirrell.

Hermione closes her book with a grimace, "I haven't been able to find anything definitive on Cerberus's anywhere." She complains huffily.

"And trust me she's looked everywhere," Ron says with a half grin, "We know cuz we've been with her the entire time."

"It definitely didn't quietly walk out the door - it wouldn't have fit." Harry said with a humorless grin.

"A Cerberus is very magic resistant - is about the only thing I've found out, so it doesn't make any sense that someone was able to take it out of the third corridor and lead it to the great hall with no issues." Hermione says quietly, furtively looking around to make sure there isn't anyone close enough to listen in.

"We asked Hagrid about it." Harry says looking uncomfortable, his shoulders hunching in.

"The groundskeeper? That makes sense, he's supposed to be very knowledgeable on beasts." I say slowly, thinking of their reluctance. Surely they weren't…

"It's his, he raised it, he's completely mad, calls it Fluffy of all bloody things." Ron whispers, further increasing Harry's discomfort.

I look at them all, slightly shocked, "Surely you don't think…" These guys were the ones that literally defended the friendly half-giant from all comers throughout the series.

"It's the only thing that makes sense… If he raised it… He could probably make it come along easily." Hermione says reluctantly, giving Harry a squeeze on his shoulder as the boy-who-lived looks despondent that his first friend might be a villain.

It throws me for a loop, but I quickly correct myself nodding along silently with the golden trio as my mind races. Of course, we're only just past Halloween, they don't yet have much experience with Hagrid - it's easier to suspect him at this moment. Especially if Harry has shared the special package and the robbery at Gringotts. I'm not sure if Hagrid picked it up in this world - but I know Gringotts happened, I read about it.

They don't yet know enough to know Hagrid doesn't have the capability to do something like this - it's all too new.

I join them in reading on magical beasts, for no other reason than to continue to stay far away from the DADA corridor.

I have an uncomfortable feeling in my gut. Imagining the scene in second year where Hagrid finds out he's going to Azkaban.

Of all the characters I once read about, Hagrid the friendly giant with a deep love of Hogwarts had resonated strongly with me.

Please let them take Quirrell!

I can't imagine Hagrid at Azkaban for an extended stay. It would be like sending a child to that demon infested hellhole.

It's too terrible.

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Authors Note:

So we move slightly forward. Things start happening and Lucas starts making moves, albeit not much yet.

Some more insight into Snape and somewhat of a biased view of the Headmaster.

Hope you enjoyed,

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Apologies for the delay. My one hand is practically mangled and as I write on a cellphone that hasn't made things particularly easy - to boot my work decided the work our 4 man group was performing could do just as well with 2. Well, 1 and 0.5 with my hand…

So yes, writing has been a bit on the backburner.

Either way here is the next chapter, I can't promise when the next is out with the new workload, but it is not abandoned.

Next chapter up will be Konoha's Waking Nightmare I'm also releasing a One Piece story that was abandoned and I've taken over, it will not take precedence over Divine and Conquer as it's more of a - when my muse is stuck, kind of diversion project.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

Hope you enjoy it.

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The next few days went by with no apparent sign of an arrest - fraying my nerves a little as I have a detention with Quirrell on the weekend together with Harry and Hermione again, and I'd prefer to not have to avoid it by more chancy means.

Not that we'd made much progress on saving the world from pollution - I am still looking for what the real reason behind all this is, with no luck so far.

Hermione is all for it - and does the majority of the research with her usual zeal. Harry is like myself, incredibly skeptical about the whole thing. For the most part, the two of us end up discussing spells and jinxes quietly between us while pretending to research.

Harry and Hermione have followed my advice on practicing magic when they can - and inadvertently clued me into something I never fully realized.

Harry especially, has been practicing before bed, just using Wingardium Leviosa to lift things until he gets tired. And as he shared with me - everyday he could lift one more thing - or it would be just that much easier - the spell working better, or more efficiently. Or he'd last just that much longer.

I have been so focused on the many branches of magic that fascinate me, on the knowledge and theory I could soak in - the great minds I could learn from. That I have completely neglected the physical aspect of my magic.

Well not completely, I've had the practices with Tonks, but those were not everyday things. Learning spells was all well and good - but I had failed in consistently practicing them.

I know some wizards and witches are better at magic than others, they say because of blood - I'm more inclined to believe genetics only play a small part. People like Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange are feared and thought of as powerful. But aren't they just very driven and clever people? They also lived through a time where magic was constantly used to defend themselves and to attack others during their Hogwarts years - due to the then brewing conflict throwing Hogwarts into chaos.

Does using more magic - make your magic stronger? Make it so you can handle more? Get less exhausted? Logically it should. There were blood borne abilities and affinities, those were unarguable. Magical power however…

The average witch and wizard, for all that they were magical - doesn't use magic much. Despite their knowledge from their Hogwarts education, they all use maybe the same ten spells at most - at least from what I could guess at from canon and from watching people in Diagon Alley. I doubt they'd go home and then throw magic around - based on the little they used it daily at work or out and about.

Could explain why Molly Weasley, a housewife, still had enough juice to waste Bellatrix Lestrange. Molly uses magic all day long - probably constantly cleaning - cooking - repairing. Her magic would be stronger due to constant use. Bellatrix, despite knowing a lot of dark magic and being generally a dangerous duelist - had spent over a decade being sucked dry in Azkaban - not using any magic at all. That's one theory at least. Of course a mother's intense will in protecting her child could have played into it as well.

Magic could be funny like that. Just when you think there's some rule that are set in stone something will pop up as if to say, hah! You thought you had me, and change everything.

Again to my chagrin - I am making things up as I go along, and theorizing, because they don't let first years get all the good stuff from the library. Magical theory books are very vague on everything about intent, magical power, and how to get stronger or better at magic.

I'll just do as Harry does for now - it can't hurt. And it's a fairly simple way to show whether I'm getting better or not - or less exhausted anyway.

I've hit a ceiling when it comes to spells due to not having the stamina or power, or whatever word you want to use - to cast too much above my weight. I have been able to learn spells from several years above me in the curriculum - but casting them exhausts me quickly.

I know shit will come to a head before I graduate Hogwarts. Canon or not canon. I doubt I'm lucky enough things escalate slower after all. If I can empty the tank every night and thereby make myself last longer and cast stronger - then of course I need to do it. Even if it cuts down on my night time reading.

At least my discussion with the golden trio on intent and visualization has changed something. Harry is practicing his magic daily and showing an interest in actually learning spells that aren't being taught in class that week. Doing more than the bare necessities for classes is a huge difference maker, especially considering how much trouble he always gets into. Or will.

Perhaps this new world of possibilities means Harry can just settle down and not get into trouble at all?

What am I even thinking, now that's impossible.

I'm brought out of my musings by a swat to the back of my head. I give Tonks an annoyed glare, rubbing the back of my head. "What?"

"You were completely spaced out, Ophelia managed to insult you four times without you noticing." Tonks explains, with a wry look at her friend, "As you kept nodding along she got inventive, and I felt it was best to wake you up before discovering what she'd say next."

"All deserved." Ophelia sniffs, leaning back in her chair, picking up a discarded tome, the title reading as Spirituality and You, by Eliza Greenfield.

I shake my head, looking around the library. Besides us, the crowd of ravenclaws that had occupied the library before I went into my musings have mostly left. No doubt we have reached dinnertime then. I let out a breath, "No need to swat me Tonks, I was just in my head."

"A scary place, no doubt." Tonks replies, idly flipping pages through another tome mentioning spirithood. This one titled; Two Spirits - the Gift from Magic Explained, once again by the same author.

I glance between them, wondering if I should even ask, but as usual my natural nosiness takes over, "Why so spiritual all of a sudden? Not something I thought was studied extensively at Hogwarts?"

My eyes turn towards the restricted section, before going back down to the obviously very old, very beautifully illustrated books. Tonks smirking at me confirming my thoughts - they have passes to the restricted section…

Ophelia rolls her eyes, the charms on her braided hair tingling as she rolls her shoulders as well, loosening some tension from hours in the library, bent over old tomes. "One of our classmates is going through the transition. "She stresses the word weirdly, while affecting a nonchalant look,"We were just curious about the particulars of it, nothing else. Not everything is about classwork, Greenwood."

Transition, not a word I'd heard before, in regards to magic at least, and is it just me or is Ophelia protesting a bit too much? My curiosity is piqued, I make to speak, but Tonks beats me to it.

"I know you're going to ask," She says good naturedly, knocking her shoulder into my chair, jostling me,"You great big swot that you are…" She flips through a few pages carelessly, seemingly thinking on how to phrase it.

"Since Tonks is thinking of the easiest way to say it, I'll just grasp the graphorn by the horn and tell you straight out." Ophelia says bluntly, Tonks chuckling and rolling her eyes, a small smile on her face, as her friend takes over. "One of our female classmates is transitioning into a male. And we were curious enough to look it all up."

I blink, somewhat unsure how to ask. "And this is… Possible? Accepted?" Certainly some people in the muggle world would die to have a magical solution in hand for… This.

Tonks makes a waggling motion with her hand, "Eh, kind of. I mean the wizarding world has known about two spirited people for hundreds of years. It's just in the last 100 years or so they've figured out the potions and spells to make it work, some two-spirited witch came up with all the spells, potions and rituals for it. Think they even got an order or Merlin for it." She looks up at the ceiling, a furrow in between her eyebrows, "As for accepted… Well, no one really has a problem with anyone being two spirited, per say. The wizarding world accepts that is how magic created them - the problem lies more in inheritance." She scoffs, lips pursing in disgust, "Like with everything." She mutters darkly.

I imagine magic makes for an easier transition, at least the magical world does have less prejudice - for all that they still harp on blood and creatures. "I suppose some families prefer sons…" I ask tentatively, not sure how the process works, but imagining some families would go to any length…

My mind is already flashing through all the known characters of the books, going over their actions and behavior - was there anyone…?

Ophelia laughs, low and dark, her expressive eyes flashing with anger, "Oh you have no idea…" She leans forward in her seat, her gaze locked on mine, "It's classified as dark arts now, to use the potions and spells in any way other than on a willing, of age - wizard or witch."

She taps the tome in front of her with a long golden coloured nail. "They confirm with Veritaserum, that you truly wish for the transition, to ensure there is no outside force involved." She sneers, "Well now they do, anyway."

Tonks takes over, continuing with a somber tone, "We've read up on it, as you said, some families much preferred sons. And the ritual involved could force someone into transitioning - it is technically viable at any age..."

"That is the difference between most dark arts and any other magic." Ophelia says bitingly, almost caressing the book in front of her. "The dark arts aren't necessarily dark at all. Until you use them for such a purpose. Most so-called dark arts - are a simple ministry classification for things they don't want us to use. Right now our classmate is using the exact same ritual, potions and spells to become who they have always been inside. In any way that could only be called light." Her eyes darkened, "And some would force it on their sons or daughters… Because they wanted something different!"

"So some dark families might still practice it… Forcing someone into becoming something they are not." I say, feeling revulsion rise up inside. From my own readings I understood her point on the ministry classification on dark arts. You could do as much harm with other spells. Many dark arts weren't dark at all - but oh could they be, if used thusly.

I already knew the dark families had little compunction - having seen in canon how willing to cross the lines they were, how casually they used unforgivables, spells needing absolute hatred and cruelty, absolute dominance and will to kill. But to force their own child into basically becoming two spirited and always having that disconnect between body and mind, knowing that and still doing it for such a small reason as wanting a male heir. Horrendous practice.

Tonks sighs, ruffling my hair, "Welcome to the lovely shiny wizarding world. On your left there's candy, rainbows and unicorns. On your right there's necromancy, dementors and soul magic." She bites her lip worriedly, eyes flickering to Ophelia, who gives her a warning look back.

"Do you know anyone… Anyone that's?" I ask, not able to completely formulate my question. I don't know why this matters so much to me. Did I know someone? My sister? Anyone? I know it isn't me. So why does this suddenly strike me as so horrific. Arguably this only held academic interest to me. So why this… Feeling in my gut?

Ophelia exchanges a charged look with Tonks, pursing her lips, "There is a possibility Malfoy is. There were rumors they had a daughter. And could have no more children… Then a year later, after time in seclusion, they introduced their son to society."

Tonks shakes her head, "My mother believes it is so. But she has been cut out from the pureblood circle for two decades." She shrugs her shoulders, as if to say take from that what you want.

I let out an explosive breath. Draco Malfoy. In a way that made sense. He did always take great care in appearances, his main avenue of fighting was to be catty and spread rumors and nastiness behind the scenes instead of fighting head on. Yet it was all supposition. In the end it didn't matter. Not like I could help Malfoy of all people if it was true. He'd never admit to it even to himself. Besides such stereotypes didn't mean anything, not really. The world wasn't as insular in thinking and behavior as it once was. Plenty of people act outside of the boundaries of how a boy or girl should act.

"Thank you for satisfying my curiosity." I say politely. Knowing I'm still not Ophelia's favorite person. Even if she's been perfectly pleasant in the Hufflepuff tutoring circle.

"No matter, we were satisfying our own curiosity anyway." Ophelia says dismissively, closing the book in front of her. "Now what's this?" She asks, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow, Tonks and I turn around in our seats to see Hermione Granger and Susan Bones both rushing our way. A somewhat unlikely pairing.

"Lucas! Hagrid and Quirrell's been arrested!" Susan whisper-yells as she comes near. Hermione hot on her heels holding a daily prophet.

"Not Hagrid!" Tonks says, a hand raised to her mouth, eyes horrified.

Ophelia grimaces, "It was inevitable, a beast loose in Hogwarts, who else was going to get the blame?" She stands up suddenly, grasping the visibly upset Tonks by the shoulder and yanking her up into her side. "C'mon, Dora, let's go talk privately, where you can let loose your feelings." She whispers so quietly, only Tonks and I could hear it. With a sweep of her wand she gathers up all the books the girls had taken out.

I give Tonks a supportive smile and squeeze her hand. Watching in worry as Ophelia takes her away. I had no idea Tonks was close to Hagrid.

I turn back to Susan and Hermione. The latter practically vibrates as she holds out the paper. I sigh and grasp it, laying it out on the table and smoothening it.

Half-giant lets loose terror in Hogwarts! The headline blares out. I wince, so they've discovered that then. That's not good for Hagrid.

I continue to read the prophet and it's painting a picture of a monster. The chamber incident and death of Myrtle is brought up again and painted in the worst light possible. Hagrid's well known love of dangerous beasts being spoken of in over a dozen witness testimonials that goes on for several pages.

There's even a short interview with Rufus Scrimgeour, the fierce looking Head Auror confirming that they've received a confession from Rubeus Hagrid that the Acromantula colony that has infested part of the forbidden forest was his work. No doubt Hagrid blubbered out all the details without realizing he's incriminating himself. Rufus continues on in the interview to state that although they do not at this time have proof of Hagrid committing any wrongdoing on Halloween. They will charge him for the Acromantula colony and the large costs the Ministry and the Centaur village has incurred to ward them off and keep them contained all these years. As well as for over a dozen violations in regards to keeping magical beasts and breeding practices.

After almost fifty years - that sum is not insignificant. And includes many dead centaurs and two dead wizards during the warding process over the years.

I look up at my two friends, "Hagrid's not going to come back." I say succinctly, closing the paper. To my annoyance the only mention of Quirrell had been a small blurb on page 17 that he'd been taken to the ministry for questioning.

"Do you really think he let that beast loose?" Hermione wants to know. "It's just. He always seemed so friendly." She continues softly, looking pained and saddened, "Harry doesn't believe he did it!" She finishes, sticking her chin out stubbornly.

I quirk my lips, the emotional rollercoaster this girl can be is somewhat amusing. She's gone from a bit frightened to compassionate to stubborn and defensive in such a short time.

"He didn't." I say shortly. Rolling my eyes as both Susan and Hermione zero in on my face with intense gazes. "You can't seriously think that Hagrid could sneak that monster all the way through the castle can you? He might like beasts, but sneaking might be a bit beyond him."

"Well," Susan bites her lip nervously, "It's not that I think Hagrid is evil, but if not him… Who?"

"Quirrell was arrested too, and we know he's evil." Hermione says primly, huffing as both Susan and I give her a look.

Likely for different reasons, but Hermione still fluffs up like a particularly angry beaver.

I don't think she's wrong. I just think it's not ideal to keep saying things like that unless it's guaranteed he's not coming back. I really don't need Hermione lobotomized in detention. Her brain is 90% of the reason why Harry makes it to 18. The other 10% pure luck.

"He's not necessarily evil." Susan says weakly. Quailing a bit under Hermione's glare, yet interrupting her before she can go on a rant. "I don't like him, Hermione! For Merlin's sake he's an absolute prat! It's just…. There's a lot of people that hold those views. It doesn't really make them evil."

Hermione crosses her arms, "It should." She sniffs, looking slightly petulant.

My gaze turns back to the paper. I don't hold much hope for Hagrid right now. Nothing I can do would help him in any way. Technically speaking all the crimes he's being charged for he has done - except for letting the Cerberus loose in the castle.

Perhaps Dumbledore will step in yet again. Like he had when Hagrid had been expelled. Yet back then they hadn't had proof of much wrongdoing. Which they do now.

My concern could not be with Hagrid. As much as it hurt to see someone I knew to be a friendly and gentle man be brought down to this - I had bigger concerns.

Would my little potions trick doom Quirrell? Or would he find a way to wiggle out of it? Would they discover anything wrong with him?

Time would tell. Saturday detention is getting closer.

Fingers crossed.

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Saturday found me walking the corridor to the DADA office, still having heard no official word on Quirrell, although Dumbledore had given a speech earlier in the week informing the student body that Hagrid would not return and a new caretaker and keeper of the keys would be introduced once found.

Whatever strings Dumbledore was pulling or not pulling - apparently he considered Hagrid unsalvageable now.

Hopefully he could at least keep him out of Azkaban. But the matter was out of my hands, no matter how ill just the thought of it made me.

I give a silent nod to Harry and Hermione who have both arrived before me. We all stand in silence waiting for the allotted time. None of us really making a secret of our combined wish to see the door remain closed.

For Quirrell to be gone.

On the hour on the dot. The door opens on its own, soundless and without any tell of who's within. I grimace, fingering a vial hidden in my pockets. Worst case I toss it and run like hell. It would likely only briefly hinder an adult wizard. But I'd take anything I could get - I hadn't found any other preparation that would give me more time anyway. None that I could yet perform.

Absolutely refusing to step foot in the room for detentions with Quirrell was a possibility I might have to take - but it would severely harm my reputation with the faculty and students. Taking a professor to the board over detentions just isn't done. The rule book is clear on professor's having almost complete leeway on holding and assigning them.

Especially when the proof of wrong doing - the Obliviate, is not an easy spell to pin down on any particular wizard or witch. Not unless it's extremely recent.

We step inside gingerly and for a moment breathe out in relief all together. Probably the first time Professor Snape has gotten that reaction to students finding him unexpectedly lurking, waiting for them. The Slytherin head of house sullenly standing in the corner of the room, glaring at us.

"Ah, right on time, punctuality is a virtue, wouldn't you say, Severus." Quirrell says pleasantly from where he was standing, staring down at the map table. "Why, being early is almost as bad as being late, I'd say…"

Snape's lips curls, "There will be no need to speak to me, Quirinus. I am just here to supervise your detention… What with recent suspicions…" He drawls out, sneering at Harry as we stiffly walk past the dungeon bat to take our usual positions at the table.

I could practically read Harry's mind. Legilimency hardly needed to figure it out. Snape at his back and Quirrell at his front. The boy was as tight strung as a bow string. His two most hated people in this tight space.

Me personally. I am finally breathing more easily. Snape supervising the detentions is the best possible outcome other than Quirrell's ejection from the castle.

I'd even take him over Dumbledore… Dumbledore would waste time trying to talk or capture - Snape would just kill a threat.

"Yes… Suspicious is the word isn't it?" Quirrell says slowly, sliding his eyes to the potion master in the corner. "That the Aurors would find residue of an illegal potion outside my quarters."

I stare down at the map, my eyes widening as I listen in. Oh, Merlin, I really did manage to point them towards each other!

"In front of students, Quirinus? And here I thought you had some modicum of intelligence." Snape spits out, shaking his head in disgust. "You will all forget anything you've heard!" He speaks to us directly for the first time. Both Hermione and I rapidly nod our heads, Harry taking some literal prodding from Hermione before he gives a short nod, having defiantly stared back at Snape.

"Come now, Severus. The children should know why they'll be troubled with your presence from now on, no?" Quirrell says quietly, intensely. Any geniality washed out of his face as he stares with naked dislike at the potions master.

"The children should remain that. Children!" Severus snarls, fingering his wand. "Get to it Quirinus, or I'll cancel this waste of time and put them to use for something more their level." He sneers at Harry, completely ignoring Hermione and I, "Scrubbing cauldrons like a house elf would be a fitting lesson for the vaunted, arrogant, boy-who-lived!"

I grasp Harry's arm, not even looking at him as I move my mouth soundlessly, don't!

Hermione is practically begging him to be silent with her entire being, silently. Harry finally relents at her pleading expression, tight shoulders relaxing just a smidge as he lets Snape's words go.

Small miracle that.

We don't get much done for the rest of the detention. Our studying of magic made to heal water and earth is constantly interrupted by quiet sniping from the two adults in the room. Snape only takes a break from his sarcastic and pointed comments at Quirrell - to criticize something of Harry's. A feat, since all we're doing in this environment of cold war is reading texts quietly. Studying, learning. Still no closer to figuring out what our purpose in this is.

We all leave detention - safe. But very uncomfortable. Each giving the other a look before departing. Everyone gets away safely as Professor Snape remains behind in the DADA office with Professor Quirrell.

I leave these thoughts behind, with my personal safety for the moment guaranteed. I can work on everything else. Starting with the Weasley twins…

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Unfortunately it's not as easy as ambushing the twins and stealing the Marauders map. It's just infeasible.

They might see me coming, catch me in the act. And there's always the possibility they actually ambush me. If I were to simply attack them. There's no point in stealing the map if they'll simply come after me to take it back.

Which is why I'm not doing it that way.

As October slips into November and moves steadily towards December, I make small moves to position things in an optimal manner. Winter descends on Hogwarts and if I saw the castle as beautiful before - it is nothing to its splendor when surrounded by the white landscape, ice and snow somehow managing to make everything seem even more magical. The ice crystallized in the most beautiful manner against the walls of the castle - patterns of snowflakes trapped as if by magic in icy blue sheets.

The main benefit of winter having arrived. The Weasley twins are not roaming the outside of the castle as much. Their unassailable energy leads to a host of pranks as they find more and more of their time devoted to being stuck inside the castle. It also makes them more predictable. And with less access to the forbidden forest - it leaves them less supplied in their various potion concoctions - limiting their repertoire.

I started simply. During the study groups I have with Padma and Su in the library. I warned them to be careful of joining the Hufflepuff table for dinners for a while. As we always studied near the other Ravenclaws that occupied that area of the library - I was of course overheard. I left it at that. Claiming ignorance of any exact knowledge, just rumors you see. Better safe than sorry, what with all the pranks…

Not surprisingly the Ravenclaws immediately assumed the Weasley twins were going to target the Hufflepuff table for dinner. As things were quite boring in the castle with all the Cerberus hubbub over with - rumors of any kind never stayed quiet for long.

At the same time I began bringing snacks to both the minor study group - as well as to our combined Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw/golden trio sessions. I freely volunteered that I was getting it from the kitchens. And indeed I made sure to spend some time near the kitchens at random times. Even running into said twins once.

Whether through checking the map - or my run in with them. Now the Weasley twins were more likely to disregard any presence of mine near the kitchens as inconsequential. Over the next two weeks as the Hufflepuff table grew more and more anxious and students gossiped - I got well known for always having an extra snack available. My kitchen run bonafides were established.

I could literally see when the rumor mill finally penetrated Gryffindor enough that the twins realized all the recent hubbub was about them. About their supposedly brilliant prank they were going to do at dinner for the Hufflepuff table. How the Hufflepuffs were beginning to get a bit cocky as nothing ever happened.

For the cockiness, I might have let Zacharias Smith overhear a conversation I had with Neville where I slowly led him to finally blurt out with annoyance and sarcasm - how obviously the prank wasn't happening and the twins were sooo scared of Hufflepuff.

Zacharias, not the brightest pygmy puff, either didn't get sarcasm - or chose to believe it anyway. And started loudly proclaiming everywhere he went that Hufflepuff had scared off the twins. That made quick rounds and finally clued the twins in to the fact that the other houses have been expecting them to deliver a prank for over two weeks now. And that they were being called out over their failure to deliver.

Their pride would demand nothing else than a prank to set the record straight. Especially since Hufflepuff believed they were scared.

Growing up twice has its benefits. For one, with two lives of early schooling behind me, I know beyond any doubt, that nothing gets cocky ( kind of bullies ) going more, then to call them chicken.

So I had started the rumors - which would never be tied to me. I had ensured that the twins had a target. The Hufflepuff table. The time - Dinnertime. I had watched and waited and prepared everything else, waiting for the moment the twins realized. Zacharias would be the one behind the Hufflepuff challenge and even if he was questioned by the twins later - Neville would be the one he got the idea from. Not me. It was doubtful the twins would take it far enough to continue further down that rabbit hole. Especially as I planned to have a scapegoat…

I had counted on the twins not being quiet about it once they found out. So even if I didn't happen to see them being informed, sitting right there at the table during breakfast one morning. I'd have found out anyway, as one of them soon after - jumped up on the table and dramatically announced that Hufflepuff would get theirs soon enough.

So likely dinner tonight. Or if they didn't have enough supplies for their prank - possibly dinner tomorrow. Due to the detention twin #1 received for the next week from McGonagall for threatening Hufflepuff - they'd likely strike tonight.

I now have a time frame. Their location at a given time. An excuse to be around without much suspicion.

The map is mine.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

I smile politely at the house elf bringing me another scone with that delicious blueberry jam they make. One of the downfalls of coming early to set everything up in the kitchens, was that I simply couldn't be so rude as to not eat what was set in front of me. Rows and rows of bulbous eyes staring up at me surreptitiously as they worked, to see if I liked it.

I knew that if the Weasley twins wanted any hope in the world on managing a major prank on the Hufflepuff table with short notice. They'd need to hit the kitchens.

Hence my little stake out. A listening charm placed on the hallway outside - learned over the last two weeks just for this purpose.

I take a bite of the scone, enjoying the warm freshly baked delight, when I'm interrupted by voices coming down the hall. I check my watch. Twenty minutes to dinner. Pretty much what I expected. They'd want to make it back for the show after all…

I listen as I walk over to the door, wand surreptitiously at the ready, hidden up my sleeve - don't want to alarm the house elves after all. I've practiced extensively over the past couple weeks - but especially the last two, once the rumors kicked into a real life on their own. Practicing holding two spells at the same time. No easy feat, definitely magically draining, even for spells that weren't too complicated.

"That Hufflepuff first year is in the kitchens. Again. Hungry little bugger isn't he, Gred?" A cheerful voice comes through in perfect clarity. They must be close. I think, tamping down my own sudden enthusiasm - now was not the time to get ahead of myself.

"Well, put away the map Forge, and let's go say hello then, he's a firstie, I'm sure we can convince him to join in on some jolly fun!" I can hear the footsteps as well as their whispered voices. Soon, any second now…

"And if he doesn't want to? If he's a miniature Percy?" The question is broken by the twin speaking having an overly dramatic coughing fit, the footsteps stopping.

"You alright there, Forge?" The amused voice of Gred comes through the listening charm. "You sound almost like Charlie that time when mum asked if he had a boyfriend…"

A wheezing laugh answers him, before the twin manages to clear his throat and speaks up,"I mentioned his name, Gred, I had to clear my throat enthusiastically to ensure I didn't suddenly develop boringitis." Forge says seriously, although I can practically hear the grin the two fools share right after.

The footsteps pick up again and I tense. Listening intently, wanting them as close as possible - just in case.

"As for the firstie, if he's another one like our dull brother, well, he's only a firstie…" The one calling himself Forge says with laughter in his voice.

I cut the listening spell, quickly spelling a set of ear plugs into my ears - shouldn't be necessary through the walls - but better to be safe than sorry. And then I drop the second spell I have been holding. A planter 'borrowed' from the greenhouses, my spell the only thing holding the mandrake in enough soil to keep it quiet. An adult mandrake would kill with its cry - but a seedling will only knock someone unconscious for a few hours.

Bonus - I am not known for Herbology. Partly why I used it, the other part to leave no spellwork on the twins to be possibly investigated. Also it would leave a good trail away from me for the twins to pursue.

Without the listening spell I have no real way of knowing if it worked or not other than to wait. So I wait. Eyes on the portrait door, tense and hoping it all came together and the door isn't about to be opened.

After two minutes the twins have yet to enter the kitchen. So I focus, reaching out with my magic and reattaching to the residue of my spell. And even through the walls I am able to replant the mandrake, although with difficulty due to the walls, if my spell residue was not literally seconds old I could have never have done it. Sweat drips off me as I achieve it, I'm tired and drained. But with a feeling of elation running through me.

I open the kitchen door, knowing the house elves have seen nothing of what I've just done. I'm in the clear, just the clean up left. As far as anyone is aware I've just had a pre dinner snack. So will the house elves confirm if asked. And there are no wizarding portraits in the kitchen hallway to snitch on me either.

And lo and behold. As I step into the hallway I find two unconscious Gryffindors. I don't waste time and quickly go through their pockets, locating the map.

A quick tap, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." And it's revealed to me. I scan it quickly for anyone that could possibly arrive and find no one nearby. I quickly erase it back to parchment state and put it in my mokeskin pouch. I've authenticated that I have the real deal. The theft is complete. Once I get back to my dorm later tonight I'll ward it against Accio, to prevent the twins from charming it right out of my pocket when using it - if they're keen enough to go around and keep trying the summoning charm.

Now time for the finishing touch.

"Incendio!" I whisper, and with a jab of my wand I burn the mandrake into ashes. Returning it to the greenhouse would be too risky, and unlike spell residue on the twins' bodies - in a magically saturated place like Hogwarts, the residue in the ashes on the hallway floor would last minutes if that.

As a finishing touch I plant a couple flower stems nearby by a suit of armor. Like they simply caught and were snipped off.

My second reason for using a mandrake. There's a Slytherin fifth year that is well known as a Herbology prodigy - one that is constantly cross breeding new flowers as a hobby.

Now how likely were the Weasley twins to believe the poor Hufflepuff firstie got one over them this well. When there's a nasty Slytherin to blame - one who happens to be very good at Herbology… No matter that they weren't around in the kitchens, the mandrake could have been pre-set after all - and they'd be unconscious for hours. Precisely the kind of plan a Slytherin would pull. Staying far away from the scene of the crime…

I quickly but calmly walk away. Rushing just makes you look guilty. No need for anyone to see me hurrying through hallways looking sweaty and red faced. No, just a calm stroll through the castle…

I am soon seated at the Hufflepuff table enjoying dinner with my friends.

No prank arrived to disrupt things.

For the next few days the Weasley twins goes on a rampage against anything and all Slytherin. No Slytherin escapes unscathed - they even manage to get Snape, once. Earning detention for the rest of the semester and threats of expulsion if they didn't back off. The entire faculty, sans Dumbledore of course, descended on them like wrathful gods and took enough points to make even the twins realize they needed to step down the attacks. Gryffindor lost a total of 374 points in four days.

Hufflepuff was now in the lead for the house cup, Slytherin a close second. Thank you, Weasleys! Not that I care for the cup anyway, but my friends do.

Not once did the twins go after Hufflepuff. They didn't question me as to why I was in the kitchen. They didn't question Zacharias. They saw a shred of evidence pointing to Slytherin and jumped in without any other thought. Like I had figured they would. Gryffindors.

No one could quite figure out what on earth Vander Shafiq had ever done to provoke them. The fifth year practically having to go around with a contingent of bodyguards for a while to be able to go to classes.

He was suddenly very popular in Slytherin though, once those 374 points removed from Gryffindor were counted up.

So it all worked out for everyone.

Well… Except for the twins.

But they're Gryffindors, a sacrifice for the greater good is practically their thing.

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As we headed into December I started feeling a tad overwhelmed. Hard work and studying is what I do. But they don't call them nastily exhausting wizarding tests for nothing. I feel I've memorized enough to nail the OWLs since it's all theoretical and simple rote memorization. I'm only taking the tests for the most theoretical classes after all. And winter break is fast approaching.

I've used the last of my money to schedule my tests at the ministry. There's no going back now - they will happen.

I need to do this. If I'm going to explore Hogwarts properly, learn its secrets - learn more magic then what the classes offer. I need time.

And since I very much doubted I'd be able to get a time turner - nor wish to wait until third year to attempt it. The simplest solution was to finish several classes and open up spaces of free time - and eliminate pointless homework assignments.

Already with the semester heading to an end - those little 12-15 inch homework assignments have grown to feet.

I will not spend seven years wasting my time on hundreds of feet of History of Magic homework that the blasted ghost probably doesn't even read!

I am however starting to regret deciding to add Divination, Arithmancy and Muggle studies to my schedule. As they were electives they hadn't really been necessary for me to get out of the way yet.

Oh, the OWLs weren't an issue… But the NEWTs for the subjects involved so much… I have no doubt the actual tests must have several hundreds of questions when the time comes.

Muggle studies is easy… To a point. The fact the wizarding world is outdated when it comes to their muggle knowledge does mean even I have to study to not run into obsolete nonsense that I can't answer from the top of my head.

Divination comes naturally to me but even then it's a copious amount of information to read and retain. Arithmancy is basically different calculations and equations where the major difference in what I need to learn is how and why magic makes it different, as I already know their level of maths from muggle education - and how to utilize it in rituals and spell casting. Not actual spell creation - thankfully that won't be on the test.

I sigh as I close yet another book on Astronomy. Another subject I desperately studied to gain me more time, fascinating and something I would love to delve more deeply into then what is studied for NEWTs, but again… Time!

I glance around the library, not spotting Pince. A check of my watch confirms that I'm once again missing dinner. I groan out loud - Susan and Hannah are going to be impossible to deal with tonight. This is the third time this week I've missed a meal to study.

I gather up my books and slide them into my book bag. Idly returning the Astronomy book to its shelf. I peer around me again, the silence of the library intriguing me. No Pince… No other students are apparent.

While the restricted section is a non-starter, I have no chance whatsoever of breaking into there. It doesn't mean the rest of the library can't hold some secrets.

Casting magic in the library is no doubt a good way to get caught. I'm sure one of Pince's instruments tracks it even when she's not here for her to look at afterwards - perhaps it even messages her to have her come swooping down on me.

Luckily for me, after months of trying. Revelio is now something I can cast wandlessly. The issue, I theorize, being power. And I doubt Pince is tracking wandless magic! As long as I don't cast on a book or the restricted section it should be fine.

Accio for all that it is a 4th year curriculum spell - is fairly standard as spells goes. You grasp an object and make it come to you. Not really that complicated or power intensive once you get the hang of how to cast spells. It's why it hadn't taken me too long once I got a wand to figure out how to perform a wandless Accio.

Revelio on the other hand… You're putting power into a spell to reveal hidden things in a radius around you - thereby overpowering or circumventing whatever magic is hiding something. Not until this last month or so of really working my magic hard - have I reached a stage where that became possible for me wandlessly. A wand helps you focus and draw out more of your magic - your power - concentrating it. So spells were naturally easier. When doing it wandlessly you had to be more capable of manipulating your magic and it has to be strong enough to perform what you're trying to do. And it wouldn't be concentrated, it would be wilder, more unwieldy for anything but the simplest spells with the simplest purpose.

There's a reason not even Voldemort is running around throwing wandless unforgivables at everyone. The power and control needed to cast something that powerful without ripping yourself apart… Not even the dark lord risks that for so little gain. He can throw killing curses just fine with his wand after all.

Revelio is likely the limit of what I can do wandlessly for some time. After everything I've studied so far I was honestly baffled, I managed to pull it off.

Slowly I make a circle of the bottom floor muttering "Revelio." Feeling the magic flow out of me in a cascade, the air - just barely visible rippling around me as the spell searches for anything hidden.

Every ten minutes or so I have to take a breather, the outpouring of magic not an easy thing to handle - the wandless aspect making it that much more exhausting.

I check my watch again, biting my lip. I've been at it for thirty minutes - I can't count on being alone for much longer. I rise up from where I have been resting, taking a deep breath and continuing on. Getting closer to the heavily defended restricted section.

My eyes widen as the spell catches onto something. A bookcase against the back wall by the restricted section lighting up a glowy blue color before fading.

I walk over, my footsteps feeling loud to me even through the heavy emerald coloured carpet. There's one space missing on the shelf… Surely it isn't that simple? Yet… I have a vague memory of this. Although hadn't that hidden vault been inside the restricted section? Not outside it?

Yet… This world was different. Entering the restricted section was much harder, perhaps the vault truly was outside of it. How would some young students find it otherwise?

Surreptitiously looking around and finding no one. I slowly grab a book from another shelf and slot it in the bookshelf with the one missing spot.

With a rumble the bookcase withdraws, before seemingly folding into the wall - leaving a tall menacing looking vault door in front of me. I gingerly reach my hand forward, stopping when I get a feeling like goosebumps traveling up my skin, the hair on the back of my neck raising. Wards. Of course it's warded.

I give the door a long look, before I step back. The bookcase sliding back in place as soon as I'm out of range. The space where I placed the book is missing once again.

I'll have more studying to do it seems.

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Amelia Bones detested her job. Being the Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement was nominally one of the highest honors and most prestigious positions in magical Britain.

More the fool her, for believing that tripe when they offered it to her.

To Amelia it was a quagmire of bureaucracy, nepotism and rank stupidity. She had worked tirelessly since her appointment to cleanse the department of at least the second and third matters.

To wit she'd now say only about a third of the department would qualify as belonging in the rank stupidity category.

Unfortunately she also had to deal with some hires from before her time that managed to embody both absolute nepotism and rank stupidity - so they held the dubious honor of lacking both skill and intelligence.

She'd had Aurors that survived the war - somehow. Unable to cast a stupefy!

She took a deep breath, fingers consciously straightened across the parchments on her desk so that she would not crumple the parchment - or reach across her desk and strangle the feckless idiot that stood there.

"Tell me… Auror Burke… How is it exactly? That I have not been told this before now!" She forced out between clenched teeth.

Burke fidgeted slightly, looking contrite. "Well, I mean, I didn't think it was anything to worry about just yet." He explained, head bowed slightly, looking more like a school boy that has earned detention - instead of the fully grown Auror that has ignored 4 disappearances.

"I believe the proper procedure for any open case is to report its particulars to the Head Auror to receive instructions on how to proceed." Amelia managed to say calmly, only through years of practice of speaking to absolute fools. "Why was this not done, for the first reported missing person? Let alone for the next three!?"

Auror Burke's eyes widened comically, "But Madame Bones! It was just some muggleborns, they probably just moved to the muggle world, it wasn't anything to raise a fuss about!" He protested, looking hurt.

Amelia needed to get this fool out of the office before she violated her no hexing employees policy. "Burke!" She barked, the man sending her a wounded look that was only succeeding in infuriating her more, "Get Rufus in here, and then I want you to report to the Auror Academy, you're retaking the final six months!"

"But I already graduated!" Burke whined at her.

Circe's tits how had this one ever been brought into the department - nepotism be damned. Barry Crouch must have owed old man Burke his soul to allow this. "You obviously need a refresher, get out of my sight!" She barked, unable to pretend that she wasn't furious any longer. "And Burke…" She said, as the man moved towards the door, "If you don't pass the exam you will be discharged!"

She looked down at the files in front of her in absolute disgust. Ever since September, 4 muggleborns had disappeared from Hogsmeade and the surrounding area without a trace. No messages to their friends or family, nothing packed or removed from their homes.

And the incompetence displayed by Auror Burke and his trainee in disregarding the obvious evidence something was wrong, had left the trail cold! The trainee couldn't be blamed - technically Burke was a senior Auror, Merlin help her.

She and Rufus had cleaned up most of the department after Barty had let a lot slide simply to wage the war more effectively - it had helped them fight, but left a lot of detritus in the department.

At least with such an obvious muck up of a serious case, she could finally get rid of Burke. The fool wouldn't pass the academy again - and even if he somehow found a way. She'd make sure he didn't. He wasn't coming back to her department.

Let his relatives buy him a post in international relations if they were so desperate to keep him in the ministry. Crouch had hired the buffoon - mayhap he would again.

A knock on her door heralded Rufus' arrival. The Head Auror walked in with a severe expression, "I hope that's the last we've seen of him? I've just been briefed on the case, just now..." He slumped down in the comfortable armchair in front of her desk, "What a cock-up, tell me he's sacked, Amelia, I'll curse him if I have to see his confused stupid face again."

"I've sent him to the Academy for re-education, but he won't pass, and I'm using this as an excuse to boot him, one that his backers can't argue with." Amelia said, a flick of her wand bringing a decanter of Bourbon to the desk, together with two glasses. "We need it today." She said defensively when Rufus raised an amused eyebrow at her.

"I wasn't complaining, Amelia. Merlin knows I need the good muggle stuff after this week…Hell this last month and a bit since Halloween really." He grimaced, rubbing his bad leg, the alcohol would help with that constant twinge in his leg too. He accepted the half full glass Amelia handed him and savored the smell of the bourbon as he gathered his mind for his report.

Amelia leaned back in her seat, finally allowing herself a smidge of relaxation, Rufus and her went way back - and with him she never had to worry about his job not being performed properly. He'd been an easy promotion decision for her to make, Rufus ascending to the Head Auror position once Alastor went a bit… Too much. "So, let's put aside this Hogsmeade cock-up for now, although do put Shacklebolt on it, if anyone can follow a cold trail it's him." She swirled the bourbon idly, before taking a small savored sip, eyes turning back up and focusing on Rufus, "So… Hogwarts?"

Rufus sighed loudly, "Yes, Hogwarts…" he took a deep sip of his drink.

"Dumbledore?" Amelia asked wryly.

"Dumbledore." Rufus agreed tiredly. "It's like the man is incapable of understanding that a rampaging Cerberus in the Great Hall of Hogwarts - might necessitate some changes…"

"Wrangling Dumbledore is like trying to tame a Manticore - you always have to watch out for when the stinger strikes." Amelia smiled, despite herself, "Albus means well, but in this case he might need assistance, leave the wrangling to me, what have you got?"

"Not as much as I'd like." Rufus grumbled, "We know about the Cerberus and the protections - Dumbledore had all the permits for that." He gave Amelia the stink eye at that.

Amelia shrugged, "Need to know, Rufus." She tapped her glass with a ringed finger, "It's a collaboration between the DOM, DMLE and Albus, you weren't brought in on it as of yet."

Rufus looked absolutely disgruntled at that, so Amelia spoke up again, "If it was up to only me, you know you have my full trust, Rufus. But this matter shouldn't involve the Auror department, not yet." It's also why she'd not poked too deeply into it over the last month, she was already too involved as it was.

"Well, it bloody well has, hasn't it?" Rufus sniped, before grimacing and sending her an apologetic look, "Apologies, I don't mean to take my frustrations out on you, Amelia."

"Well… That's what we have the alcohol for." She replied mildly, taking a sip.

Rufus took a much deeper sip, smacking his lips appreciatively. "Alright, I can't know why the bloody thing is at Hogwarts. Fine. We also don't bloody well know how it got out, how it got to the great hall - or who damn well did it." He huffed irritably, "It's a damn school, not a Menagerie!"

"I noticed you brought Quirinus Quirrell and Rubeus Hagrid in? Nothing from them?" Amelia asked, having kept abreast of the case but not the particulars.

Rufus scoffed, "Hagrid is guilty of at least 12 different offenses and he won't avoid Azkaban no matter how many owls Dumbledore bombards me with." He grimaced. "He's just not guilty of this particular one."

"I skimmed his file, yes. Remarkable how Albus has never reported any of it, that will cost him in the Wizengamot. And you say he's not involved? From what I understand it's actually his beast?" Amelia queried. It would be a black eye on the headmaster as no one with a modicum of intelligence would believe Rubeus Hagrid had pulled the wool over his eyes for almost fifty years.

"There is no evidence to suggest it. Hagrid was expelled early, although he kept his broken wand in an umbrella - and has been utilizing it, another charge right there…" Rufus explained wearily. "The man happily offered up any information we asked for, even when it incriminated him. He didn't seem to realize that any of what he said was criminal at all. He is not capable of sneaking a Cerberus down to the great hall without nary a portrait, ghost or house elf catching sight of it. And if he was…" Rufus chuckled softly, "He'd tell us himself."

"I'll go over the file later, best familiarize myself before Albus comes knocking." Amelia said with a decisive nod, knocking back the rest of her bourbon."So Quirrell then?"

"We have nothing on him. Nothing but potion residue of an illegal potion outside his office and quarters." Rufus shook his head, "I took him in just to see if he'd be rattled, but he took the questioning without an issue. Even held him as long as we legally could without a charge. The man's unflappable."

"I saw a note from forensics that identified that the Cerberus had been dosed with the same potion that was found outside Quirrell's office. Did that not rattle him?" Amelia dug through her parchments, finding the note, confirming to herself that it was correct. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Rufus.

"I have newer information. Called in some help from DOM to double check and they found that although that particular potion had been used in both instances. - it was two different potions - they were brewed at different times by different makers." Rufus explained, finishing his own glass, looking down at it forlornly. "You don't mind?" He asked hopefully, tilting the glass towards the decanter.

Amelia's lips twitched, "Go ahead, Rufus. Just don't let your boss find you drunk."

Rufus winked at her, filling his glass up, "She's an understanding boss, I'm sure it will work out."

"So… We have two illegal potioneers at Hogwarts. One used it to set loose the Cerberus and also through means unknown managed to hide its progress through Hogwarts. And the second… Is what? Framing Quirrell? Or is it Quirrell being careless?" Amelia mused. Unfortunately as this was not technically a Death Eater case - the rules on Veritaserum required at least a modicum of evidence before they were allowed to use it. If Quirrell had a dark mark on his arm - it would have simplified things.

"I interrogated the man for hours, he is anything but careless." Rufus said seriously. "I suspect he's up to something, but we certainly can't prove he's behind either the Cerberus or the potions spill."

"So we have no one right now… What about Severus Snape?" Amelia asked, her wand hand itched. The man had killed her husband in the war, and gotten off because Albus stood up for him and guaranteed that he'd been working for the light. She'd love to get something on him…"He is a potions master and he does according to rumors covet the DADA position."

"He's been questioned, but there wasn't any point in bringing him in, he won't break due to intimidation tactics alone." Rufus admitted, "That said, as much as I love getting a Death Eater for something. This doesn't smell like Snape."

"I suppose you are right, Rufus. He is not stupid enough to frame Quirrell with a potion when that would lead straight to him." Amelia acknowledged bitterly. "Do we have any leads to follow?"

"I have some of the men following the trail of potions ingredients in the last year - dark potions like that don't come cheap. We might get lucky and get a hit on one of the more hard to appropriate ingredients." Rufus muttered, not looking overly pleased."It's a long shot but we don't have much else to go on at the moment. We need more evidence to bring Snape or Quirrell in."

Amelia tapped her fingers on her desk, frustrated. "So you agree it's one of the two of them?"

Rufus nodded, "At least for now, those two are the only suspects that fit. We didn't find a shred of any other evidence."

"I'll lean on Albus. See if we can't get someone in there, they'll be needing a new caretaker, aye?"

Rufus scoffed, amused. "If you manage to bully Dumbledore into accepting that, I'll buy you drinks for a year, no five years!" He chuckled.

"I can be very determined, Rufus." Amelia said with a smirk that was all teeth.

She'd wrangled the ministry into almost a proper direction, she could manage one candy loving old headmaster.

And if she found that Severus Snape was indeed behind this.

She'd escort him to the Dementors her-bloody-self.

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Authors note:

We're moving along, the first semester is almost done and the winter holidays and Christmas is on its way.

The Marauders map is in hand. I hope it didn't seem too convoluted, but Lucas really couldn't risk the twins knowing who took it. Luckily being a first year does usually preclude you from the suspect list, especially a Hufflepuff to boot.

And yes, there's more competence in the adults in this story because no one can realistically be as incompetent as all the adults in Harry Potter canon. But that doesn't mean they don't have any idiots or bigots etc around. That wouldn't be realistic.

Poor Hagrid. But realistically an Auror investigation into beasts at Hogwarts and his big mouth would not ever end well for him on Acromantula alone - let alone what else he might have gotten up to in the last fifty years… Buy him a drink and he'd probably tell them the entire list of offenses…

He's lucky he's arrested now really.. No blast ended skrewts or a kidnapped giant hidden in the forest.

Dumbledore can only protect someone so much.

Speaking of Dumbledore protecting someone. Snape is/was a competent fighter. No doubt he did participate in raids and such before and after he switched allegiance. In this world he was definitely part of the fight.

And anyway after the war, interrogation would have revealed what he'd participated in. This ministry would not have let him escape just on Dumbledore's word.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

So practically knocking at the door of the winter holidays in the story now. First semester is going to be pretty finished up soon. Thank you to all those who review or favorite/follow the story. Your messages feed the muse. Which is ever hungry.

As for those still upset about Tonks and Ophelia going nuts. Sorry it's not being removed. They kind of are a bit nuts. Thank you for noticing!

Also it's been pointed out everyone sounds more mature than eleven. Yeah, sorry, writing eleven year olds is apparently not my greatest ability - so, uh. Magical kids are more mature? There, that's canon now.

Some more magic mojo here at the end, some more mystery, and some things figured out. Kind of. Not ominously at all. Only good things can come from it.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

Hope you enjoy it.

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November went by so fast I barely noticed. Slipping into December with only the increased beauty of the winter wonderland around Hogwarts able to draw my attention away from my books for more than mere moments.

Many times I was found standing on one of the bridges between the Hogwarts towers, just gazing across the beautiful landscape. Watching the more daring magical beasts of the forbidden forest venture all the way into Hogwarts courtyards to frolic amongst the frozen trees and statues. Nothing truly dangerous of course. The forest had wards to prevent an exodus of dangerous beasts.

Over the days I saw many students, mostly younger years - delighting in rolling around in the snow - Diricawls poofting into the air around them with squawks - just to playfully disappear when the giggling students got close. Tiny glowing Fairies circling the beautiful icy trees, dumping snow on unsuspecting students, trilling in delight. The magical beasts seemed unperturbed by the cold.

At night - the mooncalves came, dancing in the dark - soaking in the abundance of magic that is Hogwarts. It probably didn't help my sleep to find the quiet moments to sneak out, just to watch the mooncalves dance. But I found the time. When the full moon was bright in the sky - the dancing became just magical.

As much as I had wanted to continue to research and discover every nook and cranny of Hogwarts - after my little discovery in the library. I had other priorities that needed to come first. So other than my tiny forays to admire the winter wonderland of Hogwarts - I devoted myself to study.

I started cutting down on my sleep even more - shaving that extra hour off at first - then another. Devoting my nights almost entirely to study. Devouring every text on the subjects of my upcoming tests that I could finagle out of the library. Pince was beginning to detest the sight of my face - as I kept taking more and more books out of her precious hoard.

I knew it wasn't ideal. But it would only be until the winter holidays. I could sacrifice sleep that long.

My friends spent time with me studying as well. Their chatter around me helped lower my stress levels by a considerable degree. Even if I wasn't participating as much as I honestly should - their presence helped.

For the most part they were understanding. Or they tried to be. Tried to be supportive. They knew my goals - they frequently began asking me to slow down more and more as the month passed by, and as we slipped into December I began spending more time in my dorm room after classes - avoiding their entreaties to sleep more.

Tonight is one such night. I sigh quietly as I close a book on Divination that might as well have been sold as kindling - it certainly had no use for anything else. I have a pounding headache, but I ignore it. My last pepper up potion should still give me some more time before I'm forced to sleep. These tests have become an obsession for me. I know this. But they are so important.

I push away my books, sitting in the dwindling candle light at my desk. A glance over at Neville's bed shows him happily snoring away. I assume snoring, anyway - I've long had the habit of silencing both our beds.

Seeing as my friend is happily in la-la land. I take out the Marauders Map. Whispering, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." My eyes tracing the hallways of Hogwarts as the map unfolds before my eyes.

I've been checking it frequently over the last month - trying to spot any sight of Voldemort, or anything else suspicious. Unfortunately, if Voldemort is here. On the back of someone's skull for example. It appears it does not count enough as a 'person' for the map to recognize. I frown as I notice Ophelia pacing around the seventh corridor again - in the middle of the night - and yep, there she goes. Disappearing off the map again. I really wanted to know how she did that… And why? I had this nagging feeling I knew something, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

My eyes travel over the map, finding Quirrell. Not moving - in his quarters, likely asleep. Late enough at night, or is it morning? That his patrol had long finished. Either I have very bad luck on timing when checking the map, or something was definitely wrong with my assumptions of what was going on at Hogwarts. Because so far I have never seen Quirrell get anywhere near the forbidden corridor. Not even on his patrols when he could claim he'd need to check everywhere - did he go by. It was suspicious just by the sheer avoidance of the area. Wasn't the man trying to break in there?

I grimace as my right eye starts twitching, the strain of too many nights up late, reading by candlelight.

I'm about to close the map and actually head for bed - when I spot something odd.

I put my finger on Filch's office, "Who are you? And what are you doing there… At 4am? Arnold Shaw?" I mutter to myself. Brow drawn together as I place my finger on the dot Argus Filch - laying still in his quarters nearby. Drawing the finger to Arnold Shaw in the adjoined caretakers office.

There's an Arnold… In Gryffindor? Right? I think slowly, tracing the name with my finger. "A prank." I mutter with disgust. Closing the map. Lack of sleep is making me too paranoid. Now I'm looking for Dark Lord's in stupid Gryffindor's pranking the caretaker.

The amount of times I've spotted the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan around the office almost makes me feel bad for the caretaker. To live in this magical place as a squib - being bullied by kids who can't even appreciate the gift they have. Self imposed torture - or perhaps as a squib he has nowhere else to go?

Right. Bedtime it is. I check my watch. I got to get up in… 3 hours.

…Maybe another quick read of that Astronomy text..

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December was trudging along slowly - heading towards winter break, allowing me to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, I am of course absolutely buried in work at the moment - preparing for the break. For all the tests and the sweet success that awaited afterwards. But I am right there, just an inch away from being finished.

Which is why I groan in tired annoyance, coming down the stairs from my dorm room in the Hufflepuff dorms - to find an array of seats in a circle, occupied by not only my Hufflepuff friends, but my Ravenclaw ones as well. "I do not need an intervention!" I huff out, stubbornly sinking down in the comfy armchair left open for me. At least by some small mercy the Gryffindors were not here. I'd die of embarrassment if I had to sit through an intervention for studying too much, by bloody Hermione 'time turner' Granger!

"Looked in the mirror lately?" Came the lazy reply from Tonks, half laying over an armchair, hair unusually long and a soft brown color - a departure from her normally bright showy flair. I frown at her, she's been oddly lackadaisical lately, not nearly as energetic and vivacious as usual.

I grimace at her, "What are you even doing here?" Although we were kind of friends in a way - I didn't think she'd be part of my friend group this way, she was pretty disliked by them actually, the whole beating the crap out of me thing still leaving some iciness between the group and the older girl. A good hexing might be normal in the magical world. But my friends took exception to the whole - practically my first day at school thing - and the fact Tonks and Ophelia were seventh years probably didn't help.

Water under the bridge and all that, but my friends didn't agree for some reason. Ophelia didn't help by constantly having a bitchy attitude either. That woman has issues. Kind of glad she'll be gone by the end of the year, even if I'll miss Tonks.

Tonks makes a wounded noise, stretching out like a lazy cat, "So mean, Lucas!" She pouts, growing her eyelashes impossibly long, just to flutter them better."Someone had to clear out the room for this little party, I figured I might as well stick around after, to help knock some sense into you." She winks at me, seeming to take delight in the frosty glares she receives for that comment.

She really wasn't helping things along by purposely messing with them like that. At least she is showing some spirit again, it's been weird having her be all… Odd.

"No one is knocking, anything." Susan says forcefully, before nervously fingering her braided hair, giving me a beseeching look. "We really are worried, Lucas, you don't look well…"

"I'm fine. Just hitting a rough patch." I say shortly. Looking around me, taking in the absolutely empty common room. "So everyone knows I'm having this 'intervention' now, then?" I say with distaste, making air quotes with my fingers. Just what I need. More gossip, I think. I'm starting to get actually pissed. Like the Slytherin aren't already weird enough, I don't need the Puffs starting too.

I'm not doing that badly… Surely a Professor would have forced me to see Madame Pomfrey by now if I was.

"Tonks just told them to get lost for an hour, or else." Hannah says, with an annoyed look at the older girl, "I don't know why, but they all listened."

I snort, having been on the other end of her wand, I know why… Whatever problems with other students that Tonks had suffered when younger - now it was more like the other students suffered Tonks.

Tonks smirks, her hair briefly flaring red as she shoots the young Hufflepuff the finger guns and a wink, "You're welcome, sweetie!"

"Lucas, you're pale as a vampire and have dark shadows under your eyes…" Susan says softly, concernedly. "You're doing too much, you're even losing weight."

Neville hurriedly interjects before I can rebut that ridiculous statement. "Mate, she's not wrong, you've barely done anything without a book in your hands for so long now, you're barely eating - because you're too busy reading!"

I eat… I mean. I'm not starved or anything. I'm just… Busy.

"You know, if even I'm saying you're spending too much time with books, there's an issue, right?" Padma piles on, patting Su on her knee, the smaller girl flinching slightly at being put on the spot, everyone's eyes turning to her.

Su squirms, avoiding anyone's gaze, before softly speaking up, "I think…" She says so quietly I have to strain my ears to hear it, "That we should ask Lucas what's going on, and n-not p-pressure him!" She almost loses her nerve at the end, as she looks around the group with an almost mullish look on her face.

"Su, you're my favorite little bratling - good on you to throw the quaffle straight through the hoops" Tonks says, snickering as the girl blushes and ducks her head, but not before giving the older Hufflepuff a weak glare. Tonks was not Su's favorite. I had gotten many lectures from the shy Ravenclaw on how Tonks wasn't the right kind of person to hang around.

"Mine too," I say with a tired smile at Su, the tiny girl giving me a returning smile, I really am exhausted, that's true... "You all already know I'm studying for OWLs and NEWTs, I don't really understand why this is coming up now?"

"We accepted that, I personally think it's an admirable goal you're working towards,"Padma says, a slight frown on her face, "Yet…" She places her hands in her lap, making a frustrated sound, "We have seen you grow more and more sick and tired, and we're worried."

"We know you've been using pepper up potions almost daily for the last little while, Lucas." Susan says with a half smile, "We're not trying to make you stop, we just…" She gestures helplessly, looking around at the group.

"Want you to be okay." Hannah finishes for her friend. "We don't want to push you, you're our friend, but we don't want you to get worse."

I give Neville an annoyed look, "Reporting on me?" I ask almost detachedly, feeling a sort of bone deep weariness. These last few weeks of 3-4 hours of sleep really is bringing me down - but I'm almost there!

Neville squares his shoulders, giving me a firm look, "Yes. For your own good." He states unflinchingly.

I shake my head, a dry chuckle escaping. I admit I'm not well pleased that he did so, but the way he'll push even against me, to make sure I'm safe - is a far departure from a shyer version that could have been. I'm kind of proud of him, honestly. And annoyed. "Fair enough, you owe me one though. For letting this go without a hexing." I can acknowledge things are maybe going a little too far. Especially if Neville is standing up to me, kids got a heart of gold. If he's telling me this - I should probably listen. I have made a lot of mistakes by assuming I've got things under control.

Neville looks happy as he nods quickly. Taking a deep breath of relief. Don't breathe too easily, mate… I think. I'll use that favor to make you stand up to your grandmother about a new wand over the hols - you'll wish you'd kept your mouth shut. Nothing wrong with taking advantage of a situation after all.

"So…" I say breaking the silence, "What exactly do you want? What is this," I wave my arm around to encompass the group, "Whole things, end goal?" I meet my friend's eyes, my own hard and unflinching, "I will not give up on what I'm doing, now that I'm a mere week away from accomplishing it!" That's an absolute non-starter, I can't give up. Not when I'm this close!

"They don't want you to give up, Lucas, seriously for a smart kid, you're pretty dumb, baby claw!" Tonks groans, shifting in her seat so that she can actually sit up and meet my eyes properly. "They're worried about you and want you to eat and sleep properly." Tonks explains, "That's it, not so hard, eh?"

"I'm literally a week away from being finished…* I point out dryly. Squirming slightly in my seat, somewhat uncomfortable with Tonks' eyes on mine - why on earth was she using Ophelia's eye color?

"But that doesn't mean you'll stop." Su, of all people pipes up. "If we don't look after you, you'll just continue!"

"Look after me? I can take care of myself." I roll my eyes, so I've missed some sleep, I'd get over it. "And weren't you the one just saying not to pressure me?"

Su bit her lip, eyebrows scrunched together cutely, "I'm not pressuring." She protested weakly. "But you won't, will you?"

I give her a questioning look, and she continues, "Stop. You won't stop. There will be something else after. And then something else." Su sinks back in her chair, blushing as she realizes she's the focus of everyone for a moment.

"You know she's right." Padma says calmly, "You'll finish your tests. And then what?" The Ravenclaw raises a questioning eyebrow looking quite smug - she knows she's scored a point.

I pondered it, I still have Hogwarts to explore. More magic of course, I need to deepen my understanding of Occlumency and Legilimency - catch Pettigrew. I need to find out what was going on with Quirrell and find a way to reverse my obliviations. Needed to dive deeper into Astronomy and Divination, also rituals. They meshed well with both those subjects. Perhaps look into ancient Druidism as well. There could be so much in ancient history that could solve problems today!

I'm interrupted in my musings by Hannah, who groans, pointing at me, "You're doing it right now!" She pulls on her pigtails, looking at me accusingly, "How many things just popped into your head?"

I admit they kind of have a point. A small one. If I get into a habit of sacrificing sleep and food - what about the next project, and the one after. Hard work is one thing. I can't sacrifice my health on the altar of hard work. Even with… Ugh, 8 hours of sleep… I'll still have time to study and grow - I'll have less classes to attend come January. "You might have a small point." I make sure to stress the word, no need for them to think they should do this kind of thing often. It's embarrassing.

Bunch of kids having to come tell me to sleep more. I need to shape up, this has been an embarrassing first semester. For all the progress I've made in different areas - I've fucked up way too much. Some by impulsivity, some by just not thinking straight. I need to do better.

The relieved smiles all around actually makes me feel worse. Did they think I was going to yell at them or something - how crabby have I been lately? "I'm sorry if I haven't been the best friend lately, I'll try to get at least 8 hours of sleep - no matter what I'm studying." I allow, grudgingly. Because they might have a point.

Susan rushes forward and practically glomps me to get a hug in, making me spit out strands of red hair as I get it all in my mouth. "Bit of warning next time." I say, but hug her back gently. "Thanks for caring, although I think an intervention was a bit much honestly." I eye Padma and Su, suddenly realizing there's Ravenclaws in the Hufflepuff dorm - Merlin I am slipping. "Isn't Sprout going to go sparse for bringing Padma and Su in here?"

I sure remember a warning about something like - in a thousand years there hadn't been any students from another house in the Hufflepuff dorms… I knew it was bullshit!

Tonks stands up, stretching, letting a yawn out, ignoring the grimace from Neville as she almost manages to knock him over the head while stretching. "Nah, Sprout always holds that spiel, dunno why she bothers really, when it's important - like health or family related, no one ever tattles about it. We're Puffs." She says proudly, getting an annoyed squawk out of Padma as she pulls on her plaited hair suddenly, "Time for you squirts to go though, you too, baby claw." She says, pointing at me with a flourish.

I frown, "I'm not a baby claw, you know." I say irritably. "And why do I need to go anywhere? I'm a Hufflepuff - and it's Saturday." All in all though… That just went a lot easier and faster then I could have expected. When I saw them all - I was kind of worried they'd all push me to stop my goals…Probably shouldn't have been worried, Hufflepuff loyalty and all. I probably have time for whatever Tonks wants…

Tonks gives me a toothy grin, "Sprout's been keeping her own eye on you, Lucas. Just lucky coincidence I guess that your intervention happened on the same day Sprout wants to see you, I guess."

The insincerity is strong in this one, I think sarcastically. Right. Coincidence. So much for Tonks needing me for something… I would have preferred that, over Sprout…

Hannah gives Tonks a dirty look, " You told us you could only clear the room for us and bring Padma and Su today." She points out, stabbing a finger forward to point at Tonks, who innocently points to herself, face transforming into a cherubic angelic one, glistening with fake tears, trembling lower lip and all.

"Moi?" She says, cutely. Somehow still managing to look guilty as sin - while appearing as innocent as humanly possible.

"Knock it off, Tonks." I groan, moving forward to join Padma and Su, as Neville and Susan deal with an annoyed Hannah. "Another coincidence I'm sure…"

Tonks transforms back, a grin on her face, "Ophelia got told to corral you today - because she's a goody-two shoes prefect, buuuut she doesn't really like you very much, so I volunteered to do it instead." Tonks told me cheerfully. "Anyone with half a brain could see what the brat squad was planning - so I pulled them in for a twofer." She preens smugly, "You're welcome."

"Thanks." I say dryly. Having Ophelia here would have definitely been much worse, and I'd hesitate to ever call her a goody-two shoes. So I am actually grateful Tonks decided to intervene in all this with her little coincidences. If I have to have a talk with Professor Sprout as well - I'd rather get it all over within one day. And also the half a brain comment smarts - because I didn't see the intervention coming. And I should have.

Susan and Hannah at the very least are open books generally, so I must have been truly sleep deprived if I missed all this being planned. For Merlin's sake I share a room with Neville. And he's hardly a spy master. How did I miss this? I'm really going to have to use the new semester as a soft reboot of sorts. Even when I'm throwing everything into academic excellence I should be able to read the room better.

I wave goodbye to my Hufflepuff friends and exit the dormitory with Tonks and my Ravenclaw friends - Tonks sending Padma and Su on ahead once we're out in the dungeons proper.

Tonks stops me from moving towards Professor Sprout's office however, as soon as the girls are out of sight.

I sigh and lean against the wall, what now? I think somewhat uncharitably. The month plus of mostly ignoring my social life has left me with somewhat of a low tolerance.

Tonks eyes me with pursed lips and her arms crossed under her bust. "So…" She says, then stops. Gnawing on her lip, not saying anything.

The silence builds for another few moments. And I sigh louder, closing my eyes, resting my head against the cool wall, "If Professor Sprout is waiting, do you really have time to do whatever mental gymnastics you need to be able to speak?"

Tonks laughs suddenly, reaching forward and ruffling my hair, "You're such a rude brat, you know." She says fondly.

"I don't know where I could have possibly gotten that from." I reply back dryly. Not bothering to straighten my hair. She'll just mess it up again.

"Ugh, this is so hard…" Tonks groans, before leaving against the wall next to me, "You know, I've never really treated you like a firstie… You just, I dunno, seem more mature." She muses out loud. I open my eyes and look at her, she's staring up at the ceiling, a complicated look on her face.

"Yes?" I ask carefully. Having absolutely no idea where this is going. And I'm definitely too bloody tired for another fight.

"We're kind of friends, right?" Tonks asks suddenly, after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes…" I drawl, tilting my head to look up at her, frowning slightly. Where is this going?

Of everything I've encountered at Hogwarts so far. Tonks and Ophelia surely are the weirdest and simultaneously the hardest to figure out. The one thing I did manage to gather so far for sure - neither of them were what most would call… Stable.

There was definitely something to that black madness thing in my opinion… Ophelia didn't have that excuse - she is just definitely crazy.

"You don't regret meeting me?" Tonks asks quietly, not meeting my eyes. Resolutely staring up at the ceiling.

My brows knit together as I try to understand this conversation. "No…" I say slowly, "I don't."

Tonks simply grunts out, "Huh." Before abruptly leaving the wall, "Sprout's waiting for you, Lucas." Gesturing down the hall towards Professor Sprout's office, giving me another hair ruffle, still not meeting my eyes, before she was gone, her long strides taking her out of the hallway quickly.

What in Merlin's name was that about? I think, puzzled. Before putting it to the back of my mind. Walking up to the Professor's office. Grimacing at the thought of having to explain myself again.

Whelp, in the future I better take care to not look like a zombie - it will save me these headaches.

And make me feel less ridiculous to be chastised by kids about my habits.

I definitely can never tell them about my real age now - the embarrassment would do me in.

Much better to be the mysterious and crazily skilled, wonder boy.

Merlin. That sounded gay.

I knock on the portrait - time to face the music.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

"Forty-five minutes!" I groan, "Just constantly assuring her I'm fine. That woman really is like a badger - just can't stop digging!"

"Well she is the head of Hufflepuff house." Sebastian sniffs, leaning back in his portrait, "Suppose they got to be good for something…"

"I'm a Hufflepuff." I reply back, testily. I can bitch about my head of house, but no Slytherin - alive or not, gets the same privilege.

Ominis scoffs, "Hufflepuff, Hmpfh."

I roll my eyes, unless he's instructing me on Occlumency, or chastising me, he only spoke in snide little comments. It was getting more annoying the less sleep I got. My tolerance for bullshit was at an all time low at this point. "If you've got nothing useful to say, Ominis, then don't bother!" I snap.

Sebastian laughs, clapping his hands together slowly, mockingly. "Ah, the badger has some bite! What do you say? Ominis?"

But Ominis was yet again silent. I turn away from him, not needing the extra frustration. "I can't wait for these exams to be over. My head feels like it's going to explode." I groan, putting my head down on the desk, enjoying the cool feel of the old chipped wood. The Undercroft always felt pleasantly cool - a relief, since Hogwarts, in many places, suffers from an abundance of warming charms. Keeping away the cold from the stone castle by going overboard on magic. Wizards, indeed.

The Hufflepuff dorms with all its plants, almost feels like a jungle nowadays, with the warmth suffusing it.

"Why don't you just divine the answers? You're actually ridiculously good at divination aren't you?" Sebastian asks, before rolling his eyes, a sardonic smile on his face as I stare up at him in shock, "Oh, yes, I forgot, cheating is evil Slytherin stuff, right?"

"Bloody hell! Why didn't I think of that!" My eyes roam around the desk, finding the different reams of parchment where I've scribbled theories on different ways to utilize divination that isn't available to the common man.

"Oh? I just figured you'd discarded it out of a sense of fair play? You mean you'd actually do it?" Sebastian asks, smirking. "How naughty."

I hold a hand to my pounding forehead, closing my eyes, gaining some relief. "It's practically useless now though, I've already memorized it all!" Months of low sleep - maximum effort, on several subjects at the same time - while still excelling in my classes. Ah, well… I'd probably have studied it all anyway.

"So? If you divine the answers, then you can be sure of a perfect score, that you haven't missed some obscure detail, or forgotten some useless goblin." Sebastian says carelessly. He shrugged, leaning against the frame of his portrait, "You being a big great swot, you'd probably have studied anyway, but it doesn't hurt to stack the deck, does it?"

"It could work…" I mumble distractedly, leaning back in my chair, thinking of the implications. The lesser divination like my dice - would not work for something as complex as this.

I open my eyes, ignoring my growing migraine, reaching for parchment and my divination reference books - a paltry amount of books considering no one really studied the subject properly anymore. "It can't be a ritual, not a true ritual - I still can't do any more divination rituals due to the after effects of my last one." I mumble out loud, thinking hard, scribbling ideas down as I did.

It would still be complicated. No divination I could do would give me something as complicated as the entire 600-700 test answers to a NEWTs test. But I didn't need that. The Department of Magical Education no doubt used several different standard tests - ensuring the same exact test wasn't given each year. To prevent someone just studying the answers an upper year student could give them from their previous test. Wizards were lazy - no doubt they used a rotating number of just a small set of different tests, perhaps as low as five different ones. But probably not higher than ten.

What I needed to divine - was which standard test would be used for each of the subjects I was studying, and testing out of. Once I divined that - I have an avenue to move forward.

It would still be tricky. It would also depend on if the Ministry was competent enough to have anti-scrying wards in their archives - or in the Department of Magical Education. Perhaps the whole building was warded thusly. It is worth a shot. If it doesn't work… There's always finding something to bribe… Or blackmail, a Slytherin with Ministry connections for - to get me a copy of each of the tests I Divine. If I can divine even that much. Getting a Slytherin to give me all the tests would be likely costly in favors I don't want to give away. Perhaps I can even trade my method of divining the tests for the year - for copies of the tests?

I have a week to accomplish it. It's doable.

I technically don't necessarily need it. I feel confident I'll pass all the tests.

There's one very big difference though. An 11 year old muggleborn gets an O in several NEWTs in the first year… Big deal, definitely attention grabbing. News across the magical world.

An 11 year old muggleborn gets a perfect score on several OWLs and NEWTs…

Now that is a - is he the next Dumbledore - kind of attention. No one would even consider that I cheated anyway, even if I know most of the material and hardly need to. The only thing more unbelievable than an 11 year old prodigy. Is that 11 year old cheating and beating the Ministry out, getting around any protections or anti cheating measures they have employed. The Ministry will never believe I could get past them. So therefore a perfect score… Would be considered completely by my own genus.

In no way am I an actual genius. It is all hard work and an already developed brain and work ethic. But no one needs to know that.

My plan to begin everything slowly, see the lay of the land - had been a failure from the start. A plan drawn from caution and hesitance. There was no safety in anonymity, no safety in prior knowledge. Almost everything I did had unintended consequences - most of them bad. I could not live on preconceived ideas of the wizarding world. I needed to matter. Stand out. Be harder to disappear.

I might as well introduce myself properly - by crashing through the Purebloods' perfect little pretend worlds, and piss in their entrance halls while I'm at it.

Scrying would have to work. Something more basic than a ritual. Or perhaps coupled with something else…

I glanced at the time, and… It would have to be later. Even with the time crunch I'm on.

I desperately need a nap. My head is killing me.

It's Saturday. Detention awaits.

As I leave I can practically feel Ominis judging gaze on my back. I resist the temptation to give him the finger on my way out.

He's damn judgy for a Slytherin and a Gaunt.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

"Here we are again… Looking forward to it?" I ask with a reserved smile as I walk up to the hallway to the DADA office. Hermione and Harry are already there and waiting in tense silence.

Snape and Quirrell were hardly anyone's idea of a good time. We are all tense whenever Saturday comes around.

"Maybe they'll kill each other, today." Harry says hopefully. He fistbumps me as I come to stand next to him. "They almost came to blows last time."

I shake my head bemused. The detentions had, if anything gotten worse, with the presence of Professor Snape. We always felt a hair's breadth away from getting caught in the middle of a duel - the two men constantly sniping at each other.

When Professor Snape wasn't sniping at Harry. Speaking of, "So, today are you going to be a no good delinquent? Or an oaf barely capable of breathing?" I ask Harry, a smirk on my face. Professor Snape seemed weirdly fond of those two insults in particular.

For a murderous Death Eater and spy. And a general asswipe of a sentient being - the man needed better material. Oaf? Delinquent? There's kindergarteners out there with a better array of insults. To be honest, wait another two decades and kindergarteners growing up with iPads will be more acerbic and sarcastic then Snape is too. Scary thought.

Harry rolls his eyes, lips twitching up slightly, before Hermione jumps in, "Honestly!" She huffs, "Must you? It's difficult enough."

I give her my best serious look, "We must." I deadpan. Drawing a quiet chuckle out of Harry. He immediately drops it when Hermione glares his way, her hair getting all fuzzy, as it does when she's getting stressed out or upset.

So, that's not gonna settle down much over the next six years, is it? Poor girl.

Harry raises his hands, a small grin blooming on his face, "Hermione don't attack me please, I'll get enough of that in there." He jerks his head towards the DADA office door.

Harry skillfully averts a Hermione rant, as she immediately bites her lip at that rejoinder, patting Harry on his arm softly, "I'm sure it will be fine tonight."

I snicker, "No it won't." I say that with certainty. These detentions are never fine. Especially for Harry. My own particular issue with Quirrell is fixed - simply by the presence of Snape. That hasn't exactly made things easier for Harry.

"It will." Hermione glowers at me, one hand still on Harry's arm protectively. Harry simply shakes his head, not willing to argue with Hermione, but also obviously not agreeing with her.

It's interesting to see the way they're closer together by having become friends earlier and without Ron forced into the mix at all times. Hermione and Ron seemed to get along, sure. But it was getting obvious that Hermione was friends with Harry, and Ron was just there, due to him befriending Harry first. Just as for Ron he was friends with Harry, Hermione just added on. There hadn't been a life threatening situation to tie them all together yet.

I reach into my mokeskin pouch and bring out my mooncalf dice. "Bet you they'll say it won't be fine." I challenge Hermione, rolling the dice between my fingers. Letting the ponderings about the golden trio drop, for now.

Hermione sniffs, putting her nose in the air imperiously, "I prefer to look at life positively, Lucas. This detention could go perfectly fine. Honestly, you are just a pessimist."

"I prefer the term, realist." I answer back quickly. I play with my dice for a moment, thinking hard on the question - will this detention, ultimately, be fine?

I crouch down and roll the dice over the floor. Almost feeling the hands of fate over them, there's just this feeling as they roll. Like a loud rumbling of dice in my head. I feel a stirring of unease. That better not become common - I'm no Matrim Cauthon. I don't need fate jerking me around like a puppet.

They stop and I stare down at them.

Harry and Hermione come closer and peer down at them as well.

"What does it mean?" Harry asks curiously.

I continue to stare at the dice for a moment. Baffled.

"Lucas?" Hermione asks, putting a hand on my shoulder and giving me a shake.

I blink slowly, reaching down with trembling fingers and picking up the dice, "You don't want to know." I say, putting the dice away.

Harry and Hermione share a glance, but ultimately they don't know Divination as I do, and they return to the wall, whispering to each other as I remain where I am, thinking hard. Trying to not read too much into this.

I don't know what to expect now. Because the dice have answered - with what could be translated loosely to some version of - great peals of laughter.

I have asked - would this detention be fine. And the universe has basically replied - Hahahahaha!

"Well…Shit." I mutter to myself. What did this mean? Should I just take off? Would something monumental go wrong in there? Would they actually duel each other? Would Snape lose it and kill Harry Potter? Would Quirrell lose it and kill us all?

The door suddenly opens, startling me. I watch Harry and Hermione enter, and in the end, I walk forward as well. Death surely didn't await me or the dice would have warned me - so whatever happens - is something that the universe might find amusing. The dice have indicated something will definitely be - not fine. But whatever it is, the universe finds great amusement in the result. Surely if it's something amusing, there's no danger from me entering. The dice hadn't warned me away… Merlin damn it, sometimes Divination just makes it more complicated, instead of less!

"Professor's." I nod politely to Professor Snape in his usual corner, looking all gloomy and pissed off as usual, and Professor Quirrell by his usual position by the map table - looking irritable. Although he does look unusually stressed at the moment. Even his robes are wrinkled - a departure from the usually immaculate wizard.

"Greenwood." Professor Quirrell snaps, literally snapping his fingers at me, calling me forward.

I reluctantly come and stand next to him, surveying the map, Quirrell's changed it - the oceans are all darker and grimier. His way of letting us know time's up? Or just dramatic flair?

"You've studied the process for a whole semester now - you've studied the muggle books on pollution. Tell me? What would you do?" He demands, stabbing his wand down into the Atlantic ocean - the water bubbling where he puts it down.

I share a glance with Hermione and Harry. We were hardly ready for a solution. Again bringing into the question what this all was. We're eleven. Surely someone older, even other muggleborns would be more useful. As much as I've read up on pollution, it's an impossibility - there aren't enough wizards to possibly affect the whole world like that.

Professor Quirrell would have none of it however, "No need to share coy glances with your little friends, Greenwood." He almost growls, sounding frustrated, his face paler than normal, "Theorize, it doesn't matter if you can do it. Produce a theory!"

I glance at the map, gnawing on my lip. "The ocean is too large." I say finally, seeing Professor Quirrell starting to become impatient with me, his pale face twitching. "It just is, any magic created to affect the entire ocean of the planet is just impossible." There was more water than land after all - and then we have the depth of water around the globe that would have to be purified some way, while not harming any of the life in it. It is impossible. There just isn't enough magic in the world to change something so fundamental - as all water on the planet.

"Nothing in this world is impossible, Greenwood." Professor Quirrell barks out suddenly, eyes wild, as he grabs my shoulders, shaking me - meeting my eyes with desperation and rage. Looking haggard and pained for a moment.

"Quirinus!" Professor Snape barks, Quirrell removes his hand as if burned. Stepping back from me, face growing more placid, he collects himself quickly, straightening his robes with a jerky motion. Before again turning towards me, and my friends. Acting like that little episode never happened.

"Think! You're a mud-muggleborn,"He stumbles over the word, as Hermione's face shutters "It's why I picked the three of you, in particular." He points at Hermione, "Private school, well to do family, good upbringing." The finger slides to Harry who instantly tenses up, looking like he's preparing himself for an attack, "Middle class, bad family - standard average education." Finally arriving at me, stabbing his finger in my face, "Orphan, poor, low quality upbringing, genius, from poor schooling to the best in London."

It was obvious all three of us were less than enthused that Professor Quirrell knew anything at all about our lives. Professor Snape sat back, dark eyes glittering as he watched the spectacle, giving no indication he was about to stop it.

I also seriously doubted Harry got picked for any other reason then - boy-who-lived. His upbringing hardly made him that much more knowledgeable of the muggle world then the magical. For that matter I wasn't sure I could trust that explanation. Surely he could find seventh year muggleborns with the same conditions?

"You encompass enough muggle upbringing - enough ideas of - "Quirrell sneered darkly, almost spitting out," Muggle ways." His voice rising, as his eyes coldly swept between us, "To find a solution where magic can be applied!"

All three of us were silent. I look at the map again. There was just no way… The ocean is too vast.

"Maybe we're looking at this from the wrong angle." Hermione says reluctantly, keeping her eyes on the map, instead of on Quirrell.

"What do you mean?" I interject quickly, a discussion between us likely to work better than between professor and student with how things were progressing. No one had missed how close Quirrell had come to saying mudblood.

Hermione glanced thankfully at me, before looking back at the map. "The ocean is probably impossible." She agrees, side-eying Professor Quirrell worriedly. When he doesn't interrupt, she continues on with more confidence, "But what about all the waterways, sewage and water treatment plants, and all the other ways Muggles disperse water or pollution into the ocean or atmosphere?

It flashed into my mind at that moment. "Of course!" I say excitedly, "We've been looking at it all the wrong way! Just like you said!" I walk around the map, putting my finger down on a random country, "Magic could not possibly be applied on all of the ocean, but what about if there was some sort of anti pollutant magic - attached to every sewer, river, etc, across the actual problem - the muggle countries." I stared at the map, holy shit, it's actually possible. "It wouldn't happen immediately. It might take decades even, but bit by bit, that anti pollutant magic would spread."

Harry looked dumbstruck as he joined me by the table, Hermione almost vibrating next to me, looking like she might have squealed if it weren't for the company of the two Professor's. "You're not talking about ending Muggle's pollution, which probably would never happen…Not entirely. You're talking about getting in right before it spreads and making it anti-pollutant!"

"You'd have to go to extreme lengths - probably magic up every muggle vehicle as it comes out of the factory as well, a thousand other small things. But it could be done. It's possible." I say slowly. "Rituals can be made pretty specific. It shouldn't be impossible to make one that only affects muggle vehicles - one that affects sewers and the like. Save wizards from charming every car ever made - there's not enough of us for that."

"Potions." Harry says quietly, looking down at the map with an intense look on his face, "There could be potions, right? That could be added to water treatment plants, and clear up pollution." Both Hermione and I give him a somewhat queer look, because, yes, good idea. But Harry Potter suggesting potions as the solution? Madness!

"See, Severus. The minds of children... Looks like the headmaster is right on that avenue!" Professor Quirrell breathes out, looking almost fanatical, his eyes wide and his face in a rictus of excitement. "This is why I used children!" He laughs suddenly, holding a hand to his head, "Hahaha, in a thousand years, never would I have thought to use magic on the muggle side of things, for preventi on - instead of fixing what they've done to the earth!" Professor Quirrell starts laughing harder, holding onto the table, Professor Snape rising, fingering his wand, looking unsure for a moment. Although it could be a trick of the eye, when I glance back again he looks as inscrutable as usual.

"Can rituals do all that?" Harry asks, uncertainly, eyeing the still laughing Professor with worry. "And what about potions?"

I hesitate, then plow on, "Rituals can do almost anything. It's all about equal exchange or a cost though." I glance at the others, "I don't know what the cost or exchange would be to remove all pollution like that, but it's a better idea then fixing the ocean itself." I hesitate again, before continuing on, "As for potions… Professor Snape would know best…"

"And how… Mister Greenwood, do you have any knowledge on ritual magic?" Professor Snape asks coldly, coming up right behind me. Ignoring the question on potions." Where did you gain such… Knowledge?" He presses on. Harry and Hermione unconsciously melting away from my sides as the Potions Professor looms over me.

"Hah, hah, now, now, Severus. The boy has helped solve a mighty problem. No need for an interrogation, we were all curious at that age." Professor Quirrell interjects, straightening up, face twitching oddly in excitement. It is odd, to say the least, to see the normally cold and cruel Professor like this.

Is his behavior today an indication he is possessed by Voldemort? Or am I seeing things because I want to. Because again, I can't figure out why Voldemort would want what would definitely need some kind of light ritual. Or perhaps I am just lacking in knowledge of Dark Arts - and there's some advantage to be gained in removing all muggle borne pollution from the ocean and atmosphere.

"Hermione had the idea, really." I say, because she had kickstarted the process. And would have likely arrived at the same conclusions - well except rituals perhaps. That's not really covered in a first year's education.

"The insufferable twit of a girl did not mention rituals." Professor Snape says harshly, giving me a penetrating stare. I look away, rage burning inside me as I feel the Legilimency probe. I've improved it seems, or Snape didn't even bother with finesse, expecting me to not notice, I doubt I'd even have noticed if he seriously tried his best. Either way I resolutely avoid his gaze, stepping away from the looming dungeon bat. Refusing to be mind raped. Fuck him. Violate my mind whenever you please, huh? Go violate Quirrell instead! You already obviously suspect him!

Obliviated and mind raped - sure, Hogwarts is safe for the little children…Insane damn Wizards. Is it too much to ask to just let me learn magic and probe the mysteries of the universe?

Fuck Severus Snape. I turn to Professor Quirrell, feeling buoyed, as Hermione and Harry seem to realize they'd moved away and left me at the mercy of our Potions Professor, and now they return, shoulder to shoulder - to back me up.

"Is it possible? To do rituals for something like that?" I ask. Letting the rage cool down to a simmer. It would do me no good here. Professor Snape is practically untouchable. For now.

Quirrell gives a coy little smile, "Ah, perhaps." He says, tapping his lips with a finger, considering us. Before grinning menacingly, his eyes shone with cruel delight, "The cost would be enormous." He almost purrs out. "For the greater good however, right, Severus?" He chirps mockingly, sounding cheerful - in a creepy, cruel way.

Professor Snape sneers down at us, pointing to the door sharply "Detention over, get out!" Before stepping closer to Quirrell, muttering something angrily that I am not close enough to hear, as both Harry and Hermione grabbed my arms and marched towards the door, glad to leave. I do hear the answer however from Quirrell, the man giving no effort to lower his voice.

"Magic provides, Severus. Always. At a price."

As I leave I realize I completely forgot about the dice and their weird reaction once the discussion began.

Did I fuck up?

How could curing the world of pollutants be bad?

Did I miss something?

Maybe the dice response meant something else? How exactly is any of this supposed to be amusing? Why the laughter?

Again, how can curing the planet be in any way bad? Or even amusing? I groan, as I walk towards the Hufflepuff dorms. This is going to have me worrying the rest of the year now.

Just what I need.

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Sunday, Hufflepuff common room.

"Ouch…" I mutter sleepily. Reaching up to rub my head, blinking blearily around me.

"I do not spend my time tutoring to watch you sleep." Ophelia says snidely, retracting her hand. Did she just… Slap me over the head? I think incredulously. Trying to clear the cobwebs of my impromptu nap.

"Don't do that again!" Neville says forcefully. Half standing out of his chair. "He's just tired."

It was our usual study group time, all of the first year Hufflepuffs together, with Ophelia as our lovely tutor. Normally she isn't really an issue… Surprisingly. Apparently that's changed.

"Don't slap me again." I say warningly. Removing a parchment from my chin where it had gotten stuck, great - I fell asleep in front of everyone. I glare at the annoying prefect who woke me up so rudely.

Ophelia gives me a condescending look, "Then don't waste my time to have a nap." She walks forward to the head of the table and only because I've got my attention wholly on her right now - do I catch the slight limp. My eyes narrow as I study her more closely. She looks… drained. Sure she has NEWTs this year… But… She looks injured.

Just what I need. Her being grumpy and agitated. I think, groaning internally. I don't want to know what happened - it's none of my business. I don't care if this is connected to Tonks being weird. At this point they're 17, I'm 11 - screw the added other life years. They can deal with it. I have enough on my plate.

I resolutely return to the books in front of me, intending to ignore the crazy woman. Which becomes difficult as I realize the entire table is berating her. On my behalf. Such Hufflepuffs!

"Physical violence is never a solution, surely as a prefect, you know that!?" Katie Kogawa snaps at Ophelia.

"As a Hufflepuff you should know that…" Moira Thistlewood grumbles. Getting accompanying nods from Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Is that so?" Ophelia says coldly, leaning back in her chair gingerly. Her face twitching slightly in pain, or annoyance, I can't quite tell. "It just so happens I am a Hufflepuff. And hard work - especially mine - should not go to waste."

Zacharias Smith, of all people, scoffs. "Like Greenwood even needs more studying. Come off it!" His support won him pats on the back from his seatmates Sally-Anne Perks and Eloise Midgen and he puffed up immediately, looking around the table smugly.

Megan Jones eyes Ophelia critically, "Where's the Hufflepuff loyalty? Huh?" She shakes her head, her long hair going back and forth, "You're way too old to be acting like that."

"She's right, you're 17 and a prefect, why are you slapping Lucas instead of shaking his shoulder, or asking him to wake up?" Hannah jumps in, and I'm watching it all happen in morbid fascination. Wondering if the entire first year group of Hufflepuff were about to be hexed.

I find it all a bit surreal. The magical world was fine with hexing a bloke into bits, just put you together again in a jiffy, but throw hands and apparently it's a war crime. The culture shock is probably going to take years, before I'm used to all the different weird things Wizard and Witches believe.

Ophelia looks around the table, a snarl on her lips, it turns her admittedly beautiful visage, more bestial. Ugly. "I am more loyal than any of you can know!" She grinds out, "Do not question me on that!" She seems to almost get a hitch in her voice, eyes going slightly glistening, before her fists clench, and she glares murderously around the table.

The table quiets down, watching the older girl stand up slowly. Ophelia gives us all one last look, something flashing in her eyes that I can't decipher. "Court will take over your study group. Do not bother me again." And then she stalks off, the firsties all sharing uncomfortable looks. No one had intended for this outcome I'm sure. But it seems I wasn't the only one to question Ophelia's Hufflepuff credentials with some of her attitude and behavior lately. Or… Like… Ever since meeting her, honestly.

I feel bad for the fifth year prefect, for the coming storm coming for him. Court is not going to be given much of a choice to switch to our group it seems. Considering he appears terrified of Ophelia half the time - he wouldn't likely protest much.

I look around the table at my fellow Puffs. Feeling a bit bewildered - I don't interact much with most of them, nothing more really than - pass the gravy, at mealtimes. Some help with a homework question one of them might have, the odd time. Yet they'd stood up for me in a heartbeat.

It felt nice. I return to my books and it's not long before I'm asleep in my notes again.

This time I was not woken up.

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Basic scrying was in essence fairly simple. You need a clear surface, a mirror, a bowl of clear water, the like. That was the medium through which you would see whatever you were trying to scry for.

In the most basic form, of course. There were numerous ways to scry, including minor rituals, like I had done when I was searching for Voldemort within Hogwarts wards. Hogwarts had the best wards in the country - and probably was up there amongst the best in the world. So basic scrying would not pierce the wards - hence necessitating a very expensive ritual. Without the Undercroft and its reagents I would have never been able to pull that off. And it had failed anyway. Whether through Hogwarts wards or something Voldemort had cast on himself.

Now for the Ministry… I am counting on the fact that Divination has been practically non-existent in Britain for hundreds of years. Unlike Hogwarts who rarely gets any tinkering with its wards. The Ministry updates or removes parts of its wards on an often enough basis - that Divination wards might have been deemed obsolete at some point and removed.

Likely not for such things as the Department of Mysteries, the Minister's office and the DMLE. They probably had the strongest wards in the building. But the main wards of the Ministry itself? The wards covering the Department of Magical Education? Or the Archives? Would a knut pinching Ministry of the past have bothered to upkeep such useless wards as Divination prevention?

That said, I'm above basic scrying - I'm going for a bit more oomph. Just in case.

I personally doubt the Ministry has proper Divination wards. And I am counting on it being that way - but this method today might work even then, depending on their strength. For once, I'm not in the Undercroft either. Between the option of a mirror, or a clear, frozen surface in a fountain in a Hogwarts courtyard, specifically the Transfiguration courtyard - the ambient Hogwarts magic and the use of nature itself for scrying, would supposedly boost the effort. So the choice was easy. A mirror can't beat that.

I could not know for sure, as I'm using older reference books now, having read through all of Cassiopeia Black's book on Divination. Her book did not cover the whole breadth of the subject, not surprisingly, as what book could? So I was utilizing more dubious reference material. But from my experience so far with Divination. It did sound likely. Nature often gave a boost to magic performed utilizing it. And natural water or ice - should perform better than glass, steel or bronze.

I am cutting it close. I just have two days until the winter holidays start. And my testing begins shortly thereafter. But I have waited for today for a reason. Astronomy.

Astronomy is the magic of connections. Light from long dead stars reaching us, the alignment of planets, shooting stars, constellations. All of it. They didn't affect us and our magic simply through being observed, not only that, anyway, as some of that played a part. Certain flora only flourished under a full moon or a blue moon for example. And of course there was the lycanthropy curse. The full moon affecting Werewolves. So there was some of that.

But magic was alive. Might not have a conscious mind, but it lived. Or so many scholars insist. Especially in Astronomy. Because magic is regularly enhanced, rituals empowered, flora and fauna enriched - through connections that shouldn't mean anything. Except, wizarding kind (And Centaurs) believed it so long - no different than muggle astronomers and their beliefs in the effects of stars and planets on our lives - that it ended up working. It was like Quirrell had said… Magic provides.

So tonight, I am seeking clarity. A vision. I am scrying for something, kneeling in the pure snow of winter. In front of the pure ice of winter. In the purity of darkness of the night. Kneeling in front of the frozen fountain.

While above me the Geminid meteor shower began over Scotland. Unlike many other meteor showers - the Geminid does not come from an icy comet, but an asteroid. That's important, because of the connection I'm seeking. I am already surrounded by ice and snow, and the dark. Now I seek duality, to help me achieve my vision. The dark and light together. So an icy comet would just be more of what I am already surrounded by - it wouldn't do.

The Geminid meteor shower comes from the asteroid named Phaeton, an asteroid that brightens on its approach to the sun, like a comet would - and is named after the Sun God Helios. No other named asteroid flies as closely to the sun as Phaeton does. It is connected to the sun and light.

Such things matter to magic. Name's matter to magic. The shower of the Sun God, happening as I begin my scrying - connects everything. Because Magic understands the purpose of rituals and scrying and all other forms of magic. It understands the meaning. The connection between light and dark, the cold of space - heat of the sun. The cold of ice and snow for clarity of vision - the perfect sight in the dark - as if the way was lit before me by the sun.

This I have read in numerous tomes on Astronomy. And this I believe. Time to see if it works in practice. Performing Divination as it hasn't been performed for a long long time.

As the Meteor shower begins I tap my wand to the icy surface of the fountain. I can feel a greater sense of purpose in the magic all around me, as if I'm not alone. "Videri Sit." I intone, eyes intent on the surface. Let it be seen.

Intent also matters. I'm using basic scrying. No blood or reagents to invoke a ritual. Because I can't do one right now. If anything this could be considered an Astronomy ritual, although a very bare bones one. Magic knows intent, it should work.

Everything I've read says it should work.

In front of me on the ice, stacks of files in a dusty hallway are shown, the vision zooming forward. Different tests appear in front of me - I quickly pay attention to the small reference numbers on the top right - just like the upper year student I had casually talked to about his NEWTs told me - the different batches of tests have an identifying number.

I memorize them all as they pass me by on the surface of the ice. Each OWL and NEWT I'm taking.

I now have a few days only to get a hold of someone's memory of those specific tests - or have a Slytherin get me a copy… This method should be a fair trade - actually it would be an incredible deal for the Slytherin who will be able to keep using it every year and sell the results. If he/she is smart.

The vision fades as magic can feel my purpose done. I slump in my kneeling position breathing out heavily, my breath creating a cloud in the air in front of me. Utilizing magic this way is intense. I feel like I've run a marathon. Or honestly… Like I just got laid by magic.

And I don't even have the bodily functions for that yet. It's more like a mental thing.

I shudder as the after effects of the magic leaves me. Eyes lifting to the sky, watching the meteor shower with a smile on my lips. The books were right. Intent, connection, purpose. Magic is alive. It knows.

Suddenly there's a rustle at the end of the courtyard, I turn my wand - casting a quick Lumos. A bird flies up into the night sky, squawking as it goes, I breathe a sigh of relief.

I move to leave, but pause. I look towards the bushes again. Maybe I'm too paranoid. But I head over anyway, slowly, with my wand light held aloft.

When I get there, I find it.

The fresh footprints leading away from the bushes. Someone had just left in a hurry. Someone who was silenced.

Someone was here during that scrying.

I turn around flashing my light, looking for anything else, but finding nothing. The question now is… Who?

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Authors note:

So got this one out pretty quick after Dawn of an Era. Konoha's Waking Nightmare is next on the schedule - hopefully this weekend sometime. But no promises.

Divination pops back in again with some Astronomy added, hopefully it all didn't sound too crazy and out there, and Lucas is beginning to realize his faults and addressing them - something that has been ongoing his entire first semester.

An oddity in many SI I know. But most people aren't very self aware, and regularly adjust their reality to how they think - until faced with the truth in a way they can't avoid.

Lucas is a workaholic - easily obsessed, somewhat condescending and with an addictive personality. As the story is told from Lucas perspective, he doesn't quite see it the same way - see himself the same way. He's able to realize parts of himself as he grows, and has his mistakes blatantly shown to him. Part of it is also him messing with his mind having scrambled things a bit for him.

It wouldn't be much of a fun SI if he was just immediately hyper aware of everything about himself and others. Succeeding at everything without trying - honestly he's already going to succeed at way too much as is. Or at least that's my opinion on SI. Because ultimately although it's a fantasy wank in a manner. Humans are flawed, so a SI should be flawed. Not perfect just because he has some future knowledge.

Hope the chapter was good!

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

So finally winter holidays are arriving, time for tests, Christmas, and of course finding a proper Legilimency test dummy. Why, hello, Scabbers!

Some politics lite, the culmination of what's been going on in the background, don't jump too hard on it, obviously I haven't shown everything that's been going on. More fun to have Lucas discover it and have to deal with it eventually, right?

I'll likely not make myself popular with this chapter. But I do write for my own enjoyment, so those that enjoy, thank you, those that don't, make the criticism constructive rather than I don't like that, if you can.

Next up for an update should be Konoha's Waking Nightmare, with five stories I never know for sure though what my muse will make me write more of at any given time. So no promises.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

Hope you enjoy it.

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The morning after my little astronomy/divination vision quest - found me pensive and brooding at the breakfast table.

Of course I had utilized the Marauders map before performing my little ritual, there had been no one in the vicinity, not even close - it's why I'd felt safe enough to try it in the open. Checking the map immediately after finding that I was spied upon, left me with more questions than answers. I hadn't really taken that long to perform it, not unless my perception of time was warped during the ritual. So there shouldn't have been any way for anyone to be nearby that quickly.

Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell and Professor Sinistra were all within the general vicinity - of a sort. All of them quite possibly the spy, although they'd all been enough of a distance away that it said disturbing things about the spy's ability to move quickly, because there hadn't been much time between myself finding the footprint - and checking the map - and they'd all been far enough away by then to give no real clue to which one of them had been the spy.

As much as I wish for it to be Professor Sinistra, I'm not that lucky. If it was her, she'd likely been watching the meteor shower herself, arriving late enough I didn't catch her on the map - somehow... She might have simply caught on to what I was doing and watched - due to professional curiosity, or maybe due to a desire to ensure I didn't mess up and injure myself - that could be the likely reasons for her spying on me.

However… If it was her, no doubt she'd pull me aside at some point after class - either to lecture me, or talk Astronomy with an obviously gifted student - or she would have done so immediately. Yet, I felt it was unlikely to have been her at all. Professor Sinistra would have probably not tried to remain unseen, nor remove herself from the situation after - especially in such a rapid manner. She'd have had no reason to, she was a professor, I was a student out after curfew, performing a ritual. Whether to chastise me or congratulate me - she had no reason to run away and hide her intentions.

Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell however… Both men would have plenty of reasons for not wanting to be seen. They were both just as likely to want to spy on me and hold something over my head - rather than stick around to take points and assign detentions. For all of Snape's vitriol and his hard ons for putting a student down verbally, he was a spy and a consummate Slytherin. He could find better uses for knowing what I am doing then simply send me for detention.

No doubt he had plenty of experience getting away quickly from a possibly compromising position. And likely knew shortcuts, I doubt the Marauders had found all of Hogwarts secrets. After all, they'd never found the chamber of secrets. And Hogwarts surely had more secret tunnels and hallways than those shown on the map.

And Professor Quirrell… I don't even want to know what exactly he could want with spying on me. Hasn't he already gotten enough from whatever he's achieved with those detentions of his, and whatever he's doing that he Obliviated me for? What else could he need that he'd spy on me. Yes, I performed a ritual of a sort, unusual for a first year, yes. But the magic isn't really that hard. Just needed a lot of esoteric knowledge and a strong will - and a certain flexibility when it comes to rules… Could Quirrell have been the one to spy on me? And in that case? What exactly does he want? Like, really? Nothing that he's doing this year has made any sense!

My hand clenches hard around the spoon as I slowly eat my way through my honey sweetened oatmeal, I need that rat…. Legilimency is the only way for me to crack that obliviation, and I could hardly trust anyone else to peek inside my head for it, could I? Considering my options for that - were likely Snape, Quirrelmort or Dumbledore…. Yeah, I needed to do it myself. I need to find out what exactly Quirrell was hiding, and obviously I stumbled onto something at some point - necessitating my obliviation.

"I've been talking to you for the past ten minutes…" An irritable voice breaks through my thoughts, I blink, and tilt my head Neville's way, a sheepish look on my face.

"Sorry, lost in my head." I apologize, "Didn't mean to ignore you."

"A scary place to be, your head, that is." Padma mocks, not even looking up, foregoing breakfast entirely, sitting at the Hufflepuff table reading a book. The history of Ancient Rome - Magical edition.

I need to borrow that… I think with a covetous glance at the book. Magical history is just so interesting. If I'd do anything after Hogwarts other then more magic research - it would be becoming the magical equivalent of Indiana Jones.

"Go back to your own table." I grouch eventually, her mocking and her reading a book I want in front of me, annoys me - because I know it's totally on purpose. I send Neville an apologetic look for ignoring him, as Padma rolls her eyes at me, still not looking up from what she's reading, Su quietly picking her way through an assortment of granolas next to her. "Sorry, what did you want to talk about?" I ask him, putting Padma out of my mind for now.

"Winter hols, you're coming with me." Neville says, the tips of his ears reddening, as Hannah and Susan - not so quietly - whisper encouragement for his 'commanding attitude'.

Those two were getting ridiculous, even if I do approve of their strategy of showering Neville in positive reinforcement.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" I ask, a wry smile breaking out.

"Telling you?" Neville asks, looking a little bit less sure now. Glancing at Hanna and Susan for support. They give him a big thumbs up which just makes him flounder a bit, embarrassed.

"I'm only going to be gone for a few days… Then I'll be back at Hogwarts, I'm not actually leaving for the entire holidays." I point out, curious if Neville will continue to insist. I'd planned on using my limited remaining funds to stay at the Leaky Cauldron while taking my tests - Longbottom manor would be an improvement - cheaper too.

"My gran wants to meet you anyway, you'll stay with us for a few days, won't you? You can floo back to Hogwarts after you're done your tests." Neville says hopefully. Not quite using puppy dog eyes - but close. Someone's been practicing. I watch Hannah and Susan suspiciously. They're a bad influence.

"Just say yes already, Lucas." Hannah whines playfully, "You need somewhere to stay don't you?"

I glance around me, at the intent eyes of Susan, who meets my own, her cheeks reddening, but her gaze staying stubbornly on mine. To Padma's presence where she is studiosly not looking at me, and Su's quiet presence, glancing at me every few seconds, immediately looking away when I catch her eyes. Hannah and Neville both have spoken up already, making their intent clear.

"You're just worried where I'm going to stay, aren't you?" I say with a sigh, shaking my head, a small smile blossoming on my face. "Of course I'll accept, Neville." I say, and the undercurrent of tension around the table, that I'd just become aware of, lessened.

Seriously, they're taking this whole orphan thing much more seriously than I ever have. Hufflepuffs…

"Good. That's good." Neville says, letting out a breath, glancing nervously at the girls.

"After all, I need to help you convince your grandmother to let you get a new wand." I continue on, my smile turning a little wicked as Neville pales dramatically.

"She'll kill me!" He says weakly, "Besides, I'm just bad at magic, it's not the wand."

I shake my head, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You're not bad at magic, mate. And your wand not being yours might be the problem - it might not, but let Ollivander decide that, eh?"

"You don't know Gran." He mutters, staring down at his toast with sudden trepidation.

"Well I wanted to meet the lady anyway. Maybe I can ask her why your family thought trying to force magic out of you was a good idea?" I say, my grin all teeth. The story came out of Neville shortly after our acquaintance started - no one had been impressed with it.

I hadn't liked it, reading about it in the books - how Neville was those first years, what his personality and his family history said about his treatment. I liked it even less now that he was my friend.

"She deserves a talking to…" Susan mutters, averting her eyes from Neville's pleading ones, "I'm sorry Neville, but she does." Hannah nodded along emphatically, her mouth full of toast preventing her from adding to the argument.

"No take backs on the invite, mate!" I say with a smirk, winking at him.

"Don't worry Neville, you know Lucas. No doubt she'll be too busy being mad at him, to be mad at you." Padma says leisurely, flipping a page in her book.

"That's… Probably true." I admit, raking a hand through my hair. Oh, well. She probably won't transfigure me or something, so no big deal.

"She shouldn't be mad at either of you… She's in the wrong." Su says quietly. Offering Neville a small supportive smile.

"Adults don't like admitting to being fallible." Padma snorts, looking up, eyes saddened, "Don't count on her being reasonable."

I give the Indian born girl a considering look, I really need to find out what's going on with her family one of these days. I open my mouth to try and pry a bit, but bite my tongue before I can start.

Because our chat is interrupted by the most unlikely of characters at that point. As Draco Malfoy clears his throat from where he'd walked up behind Padma and Su, "Greenwood, if I could have a word in the hall, only if you're done with breakfast, of course." He asks politely.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the first year's part of the table, as not only my friend group, but our entire section of the Hufflepuff table is watching Malfoy warily. His two cronies a few respectful steps behind him, not Crabbe and Goyle - like in canon. They were more like minions at the periphery of the group of Slytherins as far as I could tell - used intermittently by whoever. This Malfoy surrounded himself with Evander Rosier and Silvanus Selwyn.

Silvanus sometimes followed by his own minions, all female, while Evander sometimes was followed by Grabbe and Goyle - when the two of them weren't following Malfoy around. Honestly the Slytherins were just so very confusing. I could imagine that living in those dorms you'd need a whiteboard on your wall - to track what alliances were in play everyday.

I'm not actually done with breakfast, but the thought of trying to eat it, while all my fellow Hufflepuffs squirm uneasily, ruins my appetite anyway. And I can't help but be curious what this odd polite Malfoy can be up to in regard to myself. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, depositing it by my oatmeal as I stand, "Alright, Malfoy, I'll come have a chat." I wave my friends down when as one, they all look like they're going to stand up, "No, it's alright, we'll be in the hallway, nothing to worry about."

Malfoy sneers slightly as he observes us all, but pulls the polite facade back on, when he notices me watching.

Normally, I would not go anywhere with three Slytherins, not alone anyway, but right outside the Great Hall, during breakfast. Not even Malfoy would try and pull something that public. Besides, at least in regards to me. They've been perfectly polite - perhaps this is my chance to find out why?

We end up right beside the counters for the House cup, it amuses me slightly, due to the heavy disparity between our houses. Although I don't particularly care about house points. I still generate a very large amount. And Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are currently both far ahead of Slytherin - even with Professor Snape's usual points shenanigans. Hermione of course brings in a bevy of points for Gryffindor.

The golden trio not bleeding points as of yet, by avoiding stupidly unnecessary acts (this time around) and more importantly, avoiding getting caught for them, helps with those numbers.

"If you wanted to show me the point totals - I'm already aware we're winning." I say mildly, testing the waters. Out of the corner of my eyes I notice with exasperation that one of the Hufflepuff prefects, likely warned by my friends, is just casually hanging around the entrance to the Great Hall, watching.

Thank Merlin, Morgana and throw in Jesus as well on that pile, that it isn't Ophelia being asked to look out for me.

Merlin, I can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy because of the little interfering and worried bastards I call friends. Damn, I really am a Hufflepuff at heart aren't I?

Considering I'm of half a mind to hex the dowager lady of the Longbottom family on Neville's behalf… Maybe I really do fit in after all. Loyalty and all that. I'm never telling that Hat it might be right, I muse.

"We'll see by the end of the year." Evander bites out, interrupting my quick little introspection, sneering at me, before he quickly subsides from a warning look from Malfoy. Silvanus seems too busy admiring himself in the reflection of the hourglasses to interject. What's the world come to when Malfoy isn't the most arrogant first year?

"Just… Go wait over there." Malfoy tells his compatriots, waving indistinctly away from our general area, looking put out.

"So… What is this about?" I ask, once we're alone, Silvanus and Evander out of easy hearing range. The prefect watching us seems more at ease now that I'm not surrounded by three Slytherins as well.

"My father asked me to deliver something." Malfoy says, a twitch to his face the only sign of his feelings of being designated as a delivery boy.

"I'm pretty sure I don't have any dealings with Lucius Malfoy…" I reply slowly, mind racing. Why in Merlin's name is the elder Malfoy contacting me. Is it him that's behind the Slytherins weird and polite behavior?

Draco smirks, his pale face gaining a flush to it as his eyes glitter with thinly veiled amusement. "My father obviously has dealings with you, no matter your thoughts on the matter."

I sigh, this is not what I need right now, "What is it, then?" I ask, tentatively ready to draw my wand if Draco tries to hand me anything suspicious looking.

Draco reaches into his own mokeskin pouch, pulling out a large set of parchments, bound together by a leather strap. Holding them out to me.

I don't reach for them. "What is it?" I ask quietly. Not willing to grab anything random from a Malfoy. I need to know what and why - before I take such a risk. And I really don't like the fact a prefect is watching Malfoy handing me things…

"Test answers. Apparently my father is very interested in you doing well, Greenwood. You should be very appreciative, not many get that honor." Draco drawls, looking annoyed as I still don't reach for the parchments.

I'm too busy being in shock, to grab them. Was it Snape then? That spied on me last night? Then he told Malfoy Sr afterwards… No… That doesn't make much sense, how would he know what I saw, what I was looking for. If he spied on my ritual he wouldn't have known what exactly I was scrying for - although he is definitely clever enough to draw conclusions. It didn't fit though, Malfoy Sr, getting these test answers to his son, to pass along to me, within just the last few hours. It didn't fit.

Also, Merlin damn it. Couldn't he have given me this shit yesterday then? I wouldn't have needed to do the ritual if someone was just going to drop the stuff in my lap, anyway, I think irritably. That said, there is one more important question.

"Why?" I ask, peering at the test answers suspiciously. "Why would he do this?"

Draco scoffs, tossing the parchment bundle at my feet, his patience having obviously run out, "I don't know what anyone sees in you, Greenwood. Isn't it obvious?"

I grimace, my wand sliding into my hand, at the same time a wandless revelio reveals … Nothing. I summon the parchment bundle into my hands using my wand, no need to display too much, in case someone's paying attention to us out of sight too, slipping them into my own mokeskin pouch - no one else could see me holding these if I wanted to achieve anything, it's bad enough Malfoy and a prefect knows something, even if the prefect doesn't know what.

"He's using me for something." I say finally, a sour taste in my mouth.

I had intended to find a Slytherin today, yes. To acquire exactly this. But that was supposed to be a trade. Something of mine, for something they could get for me. This was a poisonous gift. I might not know what poison I am meant to swallow yet… But obviously Malfoy Sr, has a vested interest in me doing exactly what I planned on doing anyway - and he's helping me along. Not a great feeling. Doing some favors with some schoolboy Slytherin was vastly different from an inner circle Death Eater being that aware of what I'm doing.

"Well… It seems you can learn, Greenwood." Draco says with a nasty little superior smirk on his pale face.

"What does he get out of this, exactly?" I ask, my mind whirling with scenarios, trying to pinpoint what exactly a pureblood fanatic could gain by a muggleborn breaking all records. The idea was so out there that I couldn't actually come up with a reason at the moment.

Draco chuckles lowly, turning away, "Let me just tell you all of our plans… And any family secrets while I'm at it…" He drawls sarcastically. "Evander, Silvanus. Let's go." He calls out, louder.

I watch them leave, pondering things. I'd gotten exactly what I needed and wanted. But… This was not the way.

I couldn't step off my path now, I'm too close to the prize.

I'll just have to brace myself for whatever Lucius Malfoy has planned.

The tests are coming up, I don't have time to try anything else anymore, and even if I don't use the test answers, and score a 99 instead of a perfect score, based on my studying alone… I still took them from Draco, and Malfoy Sr would likely use it against me if I didn't perform to his expectations.

Maybe not publically, as his son gave them to me. But with the Ministry? Perhaps. The board of governors? Also likely.

I'm already on the path. Time to roll the dice and see how it goes. I'm committed.

Fucking Malfoys…

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"Peace and quiet, finally. If only all of them had left." Severus grumbled, sinking into a chair in front of the headmaster's desk, having ensured all the gremlins had departed on the Hogwarts Express - suffering through the endless noise of a throng of dunderheads excited for the holidays. Leaving only a small handful of students at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. If only the rest left too, then perhaps Severus could enjoy a holiday for once.

"Christmas is a magical time, Severus, for children especially." The headmaster chided gently, stroking his beard with one hand, as he sat before his desk, putting thoughts away in his pensieve with the other.

Severus twitched, as he always did when Albus insisted on using muggle phrases instead of the proper ones. Yule, was it that hard to say? He scoffed and looked away as Albus sent him a knowing look, eyes twinkling away behind his half moon glasses. "If only I got the luxury of such breaks…" Severus said with a sneer, switching the subject, before Albus could regale him about the inherent likeness between himself and Santa Claus and other such nonsense.

Albus sagged slightly in his throne-like chair at that comment, looking momentarily older than his age. As a powerful wizard - he could likely live another hundred years, Severus saw none of that at the moment. Just a tired old man, burdened by his choices. Not so different from Severus. Then again, Severus eyed the surroundings with hard cold eyes, some choices paid off better in the end, obviously. And involved less dirty hands.

And few were dirtier than his own.

"You know it's necessary." Albus finally spoke, eyes downcast. Struggling with his own choice.

That choice, one of the rare times when Severus had seen the man be ruthless from the get go, instead of waiting until he had no choice, and damn it all it had to happen the only time Severus wanted the headmaster to rule on compassion instead of pragmatism.

Severus didn't really care for any of the children, not really. Not personally. He detested children in fact. But he was trying to do something right for once, perhaps just to not blacken his soul completely, perhaps he was just tired of it all. He'd lived his life long enough to realize no one else should have to live it.

The guilty look Albus sent him as he finished depositing memories was just pathetic in Severus' opinion. Why bother feeling it - if he's going to just use Severus anyway.

Severus scoffed darkly, trust Albus to feel the guilt but yet happily pass on the actual tasks to him to perform, anyway. Albus made the choice, yes. But Severus was the damned one that was destroying a girl's life. "I could still perform my duties." He bit out, but it had no strength in it, they'd been over this.

He detested what he was doing far more than the loss of his potential usefulness. But it still stung, how for every year that went by, he became less useful, as his associates further distanced themselves.

Albus shook his head slowly, the wrinkles on his face stood out in stark relief due to the shining light of the memories in the bowl in front of him. "Tom is many things, Severus. Stupid is not one." He sighed, "While he might not love, or feel compassion and loyalty. He understands these things." Albus peered at him seriously, "He understands humans, better than probably anyone before him - understands them down to the very core of their being, he's an expert manipulator because of it. Having killed Lily Potter, after you begged him not to… Tom will never believe you to be his, now. Not after a decade by my side."

Albus dragged a weary hand down his face, "In retrospect, I shouldn't have made you stay at Hogwarts, "He admitted, "It has made the suspicion worse. Although due to Lily, Tom would still likely never trust you, no matter where you would have been."

"Must you." Severus growled, nails digging into the chairs arms, bringing in Lily into the argument was just dirty, a truly slytherin move. Albus had been practicing his ruthlessness lately, it seemed…"I am aware of this, yet the Death Eaters still allow me access." Lucius still counted on him, at least… Sometimes.

Albus stood, gently levitating the pensieve along as he walked over and put it away in his cabinet. "You know only the fact Tom is not around gives you that leeway, Severus." Albus chided, making him grit his teeth to keep back the bile he wanted to spew at the old headmaster. If that is true then why am I still playing that game with my Slytherins! He wanted to shout at the old man.

"It is because they are hedging their bets, unsure if you're truly working for Tom or not, that they wait. They keep you at arms length, waiting for a definite answer." Albus continued, glancing at him tiredly, "One they'll get when he returns. This is why we need a new spy. You know this. Why bring it up yet again, Severus?"

"Why?" He snarled, " You're not the one personally destroying a girl's soul!" He spat out, standing up suddenly, the chair clattering to the ground as he started pacing. "You've made me teach her the dark arts, she should have been suited for it with her heritage… But I can see the destruction it's wreaking on her. How it's harming her, twisting her, breaking her." Severus was a master of the dark arts, but not everyone was suited for the art. Those who weren't…

Needless to say, he was not happy to force it even further on the girl. He wasn't a pleasant person, everyone could agree, himself included. But he wasn't a monster, either.

Albus sank back into his chair, hands resting on the desk, shaking slightly as he bowed his head, looking morose. "She's the ideal spy. A war is coming. There is no other choice." He whispered, shamefaced.

"There's always another choice!" Severus roared suddenly, spittle flying as he turned savage eyes on the headmaster. "Damn you! You could have at least chosen an adult, ideal spy or not! I've seen her mind, while teaching her to try and occlude to my level, on your bloody orders! Her spirit is literally suffocating under the pressure!"

"She's 17. Younger than her have suffered from this fight." Albus closed his eyes, continuing with a weary and sad tilt to his voice. "With Quirrell here, this is the ideal time to embed a spy, and…" He grimaced, opening his eyes, meeting Severus' eyes with unshed tears shining in them, "A broken girl will appeal to Tom that much more…"

Severus could barely breathe; he wanted to kill the headmaster so badly right now, damnable unbreakable vows and the idiots that take them! He knew that for this war to be won, sacrifices would be made. He was ready for it. Ready to die if it's what it would take. Not… This… He was supposed to be sacrificed. To wash away his sins. Instead here he was. Adding to them. Doing things no different than a Death Eater. Again!

This was the first war all over again, students made to die so the adults could keep hiding behind their walls! History was just repeating itself.

He couldn't care less if they all blew themselves up due to failing to understand magic. If they managed to mess with their minds like that idiot Hufflepuff child, that was on them, stupid children not listening to those more intelligent and skilled. Sacrificing children because the adults weren't willing, was one step too far for even Severus.

With a wordless hiss he swiveled in place, robe billowing as he left the office behind. He had a child to further break down into pieces so that she'd be able to be wielded by the headmaster. Damn unbreakable vows, damn headmaster, damn him!

Damn them all, neither side deserved to survive this war!

In the silent office, Albus wiped at his eyes, letting out a tired sigh. He felt twice his age, guilt eating at him, as always.

"It's the only way." The portrait of Phineas Black said darkly. The rest of the headmaster's portraits kept their silence, none of them willing to wade into the subject.

"Thank you, Phineas, apologies if your support in this matter does not fill me with much hope that it's the right choice." Albus snapped, uncharacteristically for him, but he couldn't help but agree with Severus deep down. The girl didn't deserve this. For all that she'd volunteered her services when he'd first explained it. She was the ideal spy, someone Tom would happily snap up and that would easily progress the ranks. She had the heritage, the power, the skill, there were no other candidates. She was the only one Albus had.

Exactly what they needed now that Severus would likely not be trusted by Tom again. Even with his act for the students, (Not that it was much of one, as it suited his personality) Albus thought ruefully, the Death Eaters barely trusted him. When Tom returns eventually…

Albus had hoped Severus would be able to worm his way back in during these past years, convincing Tom with years of continued service to his followers - Tom's confidence in Legilimency versus Severus Occlumency, another avenue he'd hoped would be enough. That overconfidence perhaps would allow him to at least give Severus a chance - if the likes of Lucius Malfoy stood behind him. Yet they'd kept Severus at arms length for the most part. Albus, feeling Tom moving about the world again, had finally had to give up. Severus would not be the spy in the coming war.

A seventeen year old girl would have to grow into the role.

The things he did for the betterment of all… To prepare for the war ahead, he'd even bartered in the Wizengamot, laws would come to pass that hopefully would mostly be used for good. But they did hold potential for evil. And all because he needed what he would get for not standing in the way. To ensure the second war did not end in devastation and evil.

For the greater good… How he hated those words now.

Yet, he still had to follow them. One girl, measured against the entire wizarding world. The choice should be easy. It wasn't. It pulled at Albus painfully. But easy or hard. There was only ever one choice.

For the greater good.

Gellert… You must be laughing at me right now…

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The winter holidays did not start quite how I'd have imagined them to, for all my bluster about giving lady Longbottom a talking to, reality ensured otherwise.

Neville and I were met at Kings Cross by the Longbottom house elf, Mitzy. Who led us through the floo and let me enter the wards.

Things remained like that, Lady Longbottom constantly at the Ministry, Neville apologizing for her. Apparently something big was being negotiated, and Lady Longbottom was in the middle of it all.

It did irritate me however, because Neville being completely left to himself like this… She could have just told him to stay at Hogwarts if she isn't going to be around for him.

It made me feel guilty as all hell, when I finished my breakfast on the first Monday of the hols, waving goodbye to a glum Neville as I flooed to the Ministry for days of testing.

Hopefully his grandmother would show up sometime before we're all asleep one of these days.

Although I don't know if I could make myself ruin Neville's day if she did, by talking to her about his wand. I don't know how long she'll be busy at the Ministry for. Perhaps she'll be gone the entire holiday? Do I disrupt the one day I might see her, when it might be the only day Neville has with her.

I discard the thoughts as I enter the Ministry, I've studied the tests Malfoy provided. Just from memory and my studies, I could answer, like I suspected, 99 percent of everything on them. There were curveball questions on every test however, ones obviously added in from higher education then Hogwarts. To really test someone at the NEWT level, to see if they just could read, or if they could understand the information. And use it to have a shot at those curveball questions.

Having studied the tests, I felt confident of passing with a perfect score. Or more, to be honest, in Divination and History of Magic, perhaps Astronomy as well. I'd have no problem showing off some extra credit skills there.

Not surprisingly, when I arrive at the Department of Magical Education. I'm the only one there to take the tests. Christmas time is likely not when most decide to book their OWLs and NEWTs.

Griselda Marchbanks herself awaits me, or I assume so, because she doesn't introduce herself, she's old as dirt though, and drooping over her desk like she's just about to croak. She just grunts at me, pointing at a single desk and the heap of parchments that lay on it. A quill and ink has been provided. Before I can begin, she seemingly falls asleep. Not that I can trust that, seems like an obvious ploy to try and catch a cheater.

Considering the amount of anti-cheating wards that likely exist in this room in particular, I hardly think the act is necessary. But old people will be old people, I guess. Got to draw amusement from somewhere.

I settle down, quickly filling in my name, and then the first question. Great… only a few hundred to go. On this test. Then the NEWT..

These are going to be a long few days…

But once it's done… Glorious freedom, my hours opened up again. Hours upon hours to research and to explore Hogwarts.

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It's as I come down for breakfast on my third day of testing that I finally meet Augusta Longbottom. Neville is still happily snoring away, as is his usual morning routine.

The dowager lady sits at the table, a Daily Prophet in her wrinkly hands as she peers at me with sharp eyes. She isn't donning that famous vulture hat in the house thankfully, her steel gray hair meticulously up in a bun, her green robes immaculate.

"Lady Longbottom." I murmur, tilting my head downwards slightly.

"Let me get a good look at you, Lucas, is it?" She beckons me over, assessing me, clicking her tongue judgmentally, "You'll do." She says after a moment, turning back to her paper.

I stand in silent aggravation for a few moments, surely that's not it? But yes, she's completely dismissed me now. I slide into a seat, staring at her, waiting. I'm going to make her acknowledge me, and explain what the hell that was. Because, rude.

"Did you need something? Well, speak up, boy?" She snaps after a few minutes of me simply sitting there, staring at her. "The rudeness of youngsters these days." She tsks, "And my Neville has been so effusive with praise about you in his letters.."

"I am sorry, Lady Longbottom, I was waiting for the continuation of whatever possessed you to beckon me over and say that I'll do, it seemed the kind of thing that required a continuation of conversation." I say politely, somewhat. No doubt she can hear the tone and the overly formal words and pick out my annoyance.

"You've got some nerve." She says, lowering her newspaper, peering at me. Before she smirks, "Good. You'll need it."

This woman is going to drive me insane. I think irritably. She did it, again!

"And what will do? And for what, will I need it?" I ask, slightly less politely. Tacking on a begrudging, "Lady Longbottom," On the end.

"I don't discuss politics with eleven year olds." She says with a snort, "You'll find out eventually, youngsters these days need to learn patience, in my day we certainly were seen, not heard." She says pointedly, gazing at me.

"In your day, did you force incompatible wands on your children too, or is that just now?" I say, done with the games, if she's going to be rude, I will too.

"What are you saying, boy?" Augusta says slowly, lowering her paper, her gaze razor sharp. "Do not take my hospitality for granted!"

"Neville is using his father's wand. His still alive father. It isn't bonding with him. It's no fault of his. It's yours, Ollivander will tell you the same thing, I dare you to ask!" I throw it all on the table, boldly. This woman is annoying me, she's rude and cryptic and I want nothing to do with it, so all cards out, if she tosses me out, there's still the Leaky.

"Neville told you about his father?" Augusta says with some shock, before there's a flush of red on her cheeks as she leans forward, "You dare tell me what to do!?"

"Neville didn't tell me, I research history enough that I ran across the information," I lie, staring her in the eyes stubbornly, "If I'm wrong about Ollivander I'll apologize on my hands and knees if you wish." I glare at her challengingly, "But I'm not wrong."

"Gran… What's going on?" Neville says, as he enters the room with wide eyes, staring at the two of us glaring at each other, leaning forward over our respective ends of the table.

"Neville… Get dressed. We're going to Ollivander, and afterwards, your friend has a show to put on for the Longbottom family for his lip." Augusta says sternly, rising up and sweeping out of the room.

"Lucas… What did you do!?" Neville groans, before rushing out of the room behind his grandmother without waiting for an answer.

I shake my head, rubbing my eyes, I blame the stress of the exams I'm taking for my limited ability to handle bullshit.

But honestly. Telling Augusta Longbottom to put up or shut up was so damn satisfying I'd probably do it again given the same choice.

She was obviously a smart woman. If given time, she'd figure it out on her own now that I've mentioned Frank still being the owner of his wand - or possibly… One of the Lestranges or Barty Crouch Jr, depending on if wand lore worked like canon. She'd come to the same conclusion now, eventually. But I wasn't going to bloody wait for eventually with how rude she was.

I'd pushed for a resolution. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable for Neville in the long run too. Whether she kicks me out or not, as long as Neville gets a new wand. It's all groovy.

And if he returns without one. I'll damn well owl the Prophet myself and claim Augusta Longbottom is making her son use a wand who's allegiance now lies with their torturers.

That muck rag will eat that kind of shit up.

When I returned from the Ministry later that afternoon, it was to a beaming Neville, showing me his new wand. Absolutely in love already, and feeling it in a way he never had before.

I don't get an apology from Augusta Longbottom, nor an explanation. I don't really care.

At least she didn't kick me out.

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Ministry of Magic.

Last day of tests.

"Lucas Greenwood, is it?" An affable voice says from behind me.

Having just finished a NEWT with over 800 questions, I am in no mood for conversation, that's why I'd found a quiet corner in the ministry cafeteria and hid, just eating mechanically, because my brain still needed fuel. Or a lobotomy. Anything to make me stop thinking in math.

I turn around to tell whoever it is to bugger off, and almost swallow my tongue. Because behind me, followed by a gaggle of others and a pair of Auror guards, is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. The entire cafeteria is looking in my direction right now, or in his, same difference for my peace and quiet though.

"Yes… That is my name, what can I do for you, Minister?" I say quietly, inwardly cringing. The last thing I need right now is this man getting involved. I just want to take some tests, please leave me alone!

"I just wanted to congratulate you, my boy." Fudge says cheerfully, "As you're the only one currently testing, with most students preferring the summer holidays, some scores have already been tabulated," Fudge winks at me exaggeratedly, his bowler hat almost falling off his head, "It just so happens I was visiting with Griselda and took a peek at some of your results. Highest divination and history scores in British history, quite a feat!"

I smile weakly, the man might act affably, but I can see the cunning in his eyes, and the greed. I've become useful to him through this . Super. Can't I just get fame without the Fudge, please. I beg internally.

I knew it was pointless. Fudge, whether Canon or here, was probably the same kind of opportunistic slimy politician.

"Magic just fascinates me…" I say, trailing off into silence. To be fair, I'm not at my best, I've just put my brain through 800 questions of Arithmancy. I'd challenge anyone to be fully coherent after that.

Fudge makes a humming sound in the back of his throat, patting me on the shoulder, "I believe I read an article about you, young man, this summer, about your love for magical history. You're certainly proving the ability to back up your interest with action!" There's some murmurs from his entourage as they realize who I am.

I wince as I recognize Dolores Umbridge in the back of his entourage. Unlucky for her, instead of her movie version, she much more fit her book description. She was… Noticeable one could say. She was also glaring daggers at me…

Oh, come on! I think, exasperated, How is any of this my fault, now? She better not exchange Harry's name for mine on the hit list. I do not want to be around the minister, thank you very much.

"Thank you, Minister." I say with a rictus of a grin on my face, realizing I've been quiet too long. Please for the love of Merlin, leave! I beg mentally.

"Oh, call me Cornelius, young man." The portly and affable looking man says, patting my shoulder. I barely hold back a flinch as a camera flash goes off. Of course he's followed by reporters… I groan inwardly.

"You're one to keep an eye on, my lad. Lots of changes are coming, you've really stirred things up." Fudge says, eyes flashing with some unidentifiable emotion as he looks down at me. Before it turns into a look of barely hidden avarice, as he grabs my shoulders and pulls me up, standing next to me, an arm around my shoulders. "Everyone," He calls out, the reporters all watching us like hawks, "Due to a bill that just now, today, passed the Wizengamot, the magical world has entered a new era!" Fudge smiles widely, gripping me tightly, "Thanks to this young man, bringing the Wizengamot together like it has never before been seen, uniting both light and dark. Brought together in discussions due to his impassioned plea earlier this year. To protect magical traditions, its history and culture, and to embrace the cultural re-education of muggleborns." Fudge indicates me with a nod, as I just smile stoically at the cameras going off, trying not to grimace. "Young Lucas here, is a muggleborn, a first year at that. And he's currently beating all educational records, taking OWLs…And NEWTs, with the highest recorded scores in British history." Obviously exaggerating, I've only got the highest scores in two subjects from what he himself said, I think with annoyance.

Fudge lets the shocked gasps in the cafeteria and the loud din of mutters go on for a minute before he gestures for quiet. "Yes, utterly enchanting isn't it. To see what can be achieved when muggleborns have proper appreciation for the magical culture and history that lie behind excellence!" Fudge says grandly, making a sweeping gesture with his free arm, "Now, thanks to my work," Fudge preened and posed for the cameras, "And your Wizengamot, "He allowed, with a small smile and a wink, before growing serious again, "The issues that have plagued our muggleborn for centuries will die down, the muggleborn problem is going to be solved!"

I stand in silence, feeling my stomach churning as Fudge continues this totally happenstance meeting and campaign speech - it's not planned at all... The fame I'm not opposed to, at this point. It was part of the plan. But I do not like what I'm hearing right now. Cultural re-education? What does that even mean? Muggleborns with proper appreciation. The Muggleborn problem.

I have a bad feeling about this.

I also hope Griselda Marchbanks allows the excuse that the Minister of Magic kidnapped me for a photo op - as a reason for why I'd be late for my last test.

Because it doesn't seem like he's even pausing for breath. And he's certainly not letting go of me.

This is… Troublesome.

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Returning to Longbottom manor after finishing up all my tests, I find myself alone, apart from the house elves, the lady Longbottom still at the Ministry, and having brought Neville to allow him to mingle with the families of the other Wizengamot members. The whole Ministry is in a somewhat celebratory mood - major changes like today are literally unheard of. The light and dark factions just don't do that kind of stuff.

In the hours I've been busy, finishing up my tests at the Ministry, a special edition of the Daily Prophet has been printed and delivered. I note with some relief that somehow, my absolute reluctance is not obvious on the picture on the front page, me and the Minister standing together as he speaks. At worst I look slightly dazed, which can be explained away easily as having to listen to Fudge talk for forty five minutes.

As I go through the paper, a furrow grows in my brow at the multitude of changes the Wizengamot pushed through. For starters. They overrode Dumbledore, not something I'd think would happen with his currently pristine reputation. Binns has been fired from History of Magic. While Dumbledore can still hire a new teacher, they'll now have to follow an actual proper history curriculum, currently being worked on by Griselda Marchbanks and her team. Reading between the lines, the Ministry will not accept a dud in the position. Dumbledore gets it right - or the Ministry will.

How annoying. I pass out of History of Magic because of how useless the class is - going without sleep to swallow a useless curriculum of goblin rebellions and other dross for seven years of the subject. And now they're going to make my favorite subject actually worthwhile. I huff, amused despite my irritation. Of course, that's what would happen. Why would I expect anything else?

I continue reading, finding that it is now law that muggle holidays can not be celebrated in magical communities. No one's forced to celebrate a magical tradition or cultural day if they don't want to, but they are not allowed to switch them out for muggle ways. It's magical or nothing, now. Preservation of magical culture it's being called. The Daily Prophet practically orgasming in its praise of the move.

Personally… Although I can see some muggleborns being upset about it, I couldn't care less. Magical traditions and cultural holidays and rituals were way more interesting. Seems like this Christmas will be the last one celebrated thusly at Hogwarts. Not really a big loss. I'm looking forward to it, in fact. Maybe I'd actually get to see some honest to Merlin celebratory rituals. Because yes, the laws on rituals for the purpose of continuing magical traditions had been eased as well.

Soon enough, I find the more… interesting ways to solve the so called muggleborn problem.

Magical culture and traditions would be a correspondence class that each muggleborn or muggle raised half blood would need to complete before they could join Hogwarts. Which necessitates telling muggleborns they're magical at 10 instead of 11. Quite the change. I'm surprised it passed, to be honest.

As long as they don't fudge the test results as an excuse to turn down muggleborn… It could be actually useful. Yet… I note in the paper that this is being funded by some of the families on the dark side of the fence instead of the Ministry - probably how it passed. Which means all muggleborns will spend a year learning only what they want them too.

I can already see the potential abuse there. How the hell did that get buy-in from the light faction and the neutrals? A year of someone like Malfoy controlling the curriculum muggleborns with no idea of magic would have to learn? Yeah… No way that can go wrong at all.

Am I missing something about the political situation?

I continue reading, a frown growing.

If that got passed with light votes - it's nothing compared to the last laws passed…

Muggleborn relocation act and the re-education act.

Since Muggleborn are going to be informed early, increasing the risks to the statute of secrecy, somehow, the Ministry reserves the right to remove muggleborn from their families if they should appear to be against magic. Remove kids from abusive homes, hell yes. Good idea. It also doesn't state where they're going. There's no mention of an orphanage.

But this… It leaves things open like hell, appearing to be against magic?

So if the parents say, isn't witchcraft against the bible? Do they get immediately Obliviated and their kids removed? Depending on who's dealing with them? Do the light faction just see better educated and protected muggleborn and not realize the giant loopholes to abuse it?

No… They can't all be that dumb. So that makes me wonder… What did they get, to allow this? What backroom deals am I missing?

Where the hell is Dumbledore in all this? He's not even mentioned in the articles so far, except for when they talk about the History of Magic change - which hardly can avoid mentioning him since he's the headmaster of the school.

The Muggleborn re-education act… Every Muggleborn. Including those already graduated from Hogwarts. Will need to take the same correspondence class the incoming muggleborn will. And pass it. Muggleborn can not go to Hogwarts, or continue working or living in the magical world, without receipt of a completed course. Which… Gives the Muggleborn already at Hogwarts only the summer to finish a year's worth of a course. Because I doubt they'll have it ready until summer. Hopefully the Muggleborn turning 11 this year get a pass until next summer. Damn… I'll have to do this as well…

This… Is a slippery slope. It's not that far of a step from all muggleborns needing to finish a course to stay, to all muggleborns needing to register all their information at the Ministry, to muggleborn may only use a wand in these circumstances, to, etc etc. And they're all cheering for it, saying it's great how they're looking out for muggleborns and educating us all, clearing all the divides that are creating issues…

Like muggleborns are the only reason there's an issue…

This… No way this all started because of that stupid article. This has all been in motion in some form, and I've somehow proved their point to the light faction, that a muggleborn with respect and understanding of history and culture could do better.. Like any of that had anything to do with it.

But I can't exactly explain it either. Sorry, from another world, that's why, that would go over well…

This… Is going to set off a shitstorm at Hogwarts.

Many of the older muggleborns will see this from the lens of history of the muggle world. They'll understand where having a bunch of special circumstances to allow muggleborn the same rights as everyone else leads to.

And I just became the poster boy for all these laws.

Fantastic…

Oh shit… Hermione is going to freak.

I'll let Harry deal with that one. I decide, he's the brave Gryffindor after all.

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My return to Hogwarts is uneventful, simply flooing from Longbottom manor to Professor Sprout's office. Neville having seen me off, Augusta Longbottom not so much as saying a word to me.

Of course I have to endure half an hour of tea and biscuits as she interrogates me gently about my testing. The woman puffing up with pride at how well I'd done. Praising me to a point I'm honestly starting to feel embarrassed to be there, and wondering if she'll notice me sneaking out.

I have a feeling she's going to play up my achievements for a while. Hufflepuffs don't get much credit, it's going to be milked until Harry does something crazy that can take over the chatter. Or until Diggory becomes a Triwizard champion… If that even happens.

I am one of only three Hufflepuffs that are actually in the castle, so the common room feels very empty, once I finally escape Professor Sprout. Tonks, for some reason, has stayed for the hols, and so has Ophelia, yet the common room feels empty, because the two girls avoid each other as much as possible - for some reason.

I have no idea what's been going on with those two the last little while.

I don't care much either way, I have too many other things on my plate - Tonks is a big girl, she can take care of herself, she knows where I am if she needs me. Too many things out of my control are moving in the shadows. Things I have no power to do anything about…

Yet.

It was time to do something about one thing I could control.

My mind.

Christmas was arriving shortly. That means Harry Potter will explore the castle, alone, under an invisibility cloak. I have the Marauders map. He can't hide from me.

Peter Pettigrew will be mine. And I will learn more of the mind arts. So that I can undo what I've done to my own mind. And find what hid behind Quirrell's obliviation.

Soon.

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Christmas dinner is fairly subdued, there are only a handful of students present, and the knowledge of it being the last Christmas at Hogwarts that include muggle traditions seems to have severely affected the Headmasters level of cheer.

There isn't much decoration, and there's no real festivities either, simply a Christmas dinner.

Even Snape seems in a worse mood than usual, and that is saying something. On the flipside, Sprout is positivity brimming with cheer. Even McGonagall is starting to look a little strained as she listens to my head of house once again extol the virtues of Hufflepuff house. The house holding the brightest wizard in British history.

Flitwick might honestly challenge her to a duel if she keeps saying that. I've never seen the tiny man look so annoyed before. I didn't think he could.

I'm surprised Snape hasn't cut her off yet though, although the absolute death glares he sends me, likely means he's blaming me for Sprout murdering their ears.

Great, I need more problems, sure, just keep dumping it on me. Potions bullying ala Harry Potter, here I come. I'm not supposed to be the main protagonist, people. Even if I get famous, you're still supposed to go after Harry Potter. I'm going to have a hard seven years if they're going to match my first semester and winter holidays.

Dumbledore barely speaks, seeming transfixed by his food. The laws passed by the Wizengamot must have hit him pretty hard. I almost feel bad for him, but then, I figure the fact this place is so fucked up, is partly his fault due to inaction, so he can look sad all he wants, I'm not going to waste my sympathy.

I leave the dinner early, finding a location close to Gryffindor Tower, unfolding the Marauders map, waiting.

It takes a long while, longer than I had expected, but eventually I see the name Harry Potter exit the tower on the map. Silently I wait and watch.

I have been practicing the stunning spell for this exact day. I know he's going to the library, although I doubt even the Deathly Hallow he's wearing will get him access to the restricted section. It might fool the wards. But he needs more than that to enter, Madame Pince's keys for one.

As he walks by the room I'm hiding in, I silently step out, one eye on the map. I'd left the door just minimally ajar so I wouldn't have to open it, just push it slowly, minimizing sounds. Seeing him walking in the middle of the little corridor on the map, I silently raise my wand, I try my best to alter my voice, making it rougher and harsher, hopefully older sounding, as I intone, "Stupefy."

The Deathly Hallow does not stop spell fire thankfully. The thud of Harry hitting the stone floor makes me wince a little. Sorry, Harry. I think guiltily. It's for the greater good!

I feel for his body, finding it, I drag the invisibility cloak off him. I double-check the map just in case, I see no one nearby, still. But I can't leave Harry in the hallway like this, in case someone will pop up again from nowhere, like they had with my ritual. With a wave of my wand, I levitate Harry, bringing him with me into the room I had been waiting in to ambush him. The cloak hanging off my arm.

I check him over, but I can't find any injuries, so he can't have hit anything too hard, hopefully. I don't know how long he'll stay out with the stunning spell, so I don't waste anymore time, I pull the cloak over myself, silently lamenting having no time to geek out over being under the invisibility cloak. Maybe another time.

I hurriedly move through the corridors, arriving at Gryffindor tower within minutes, thankfully the portrait has not left - which would have completely screwed me. So thank you magic gods or whatever deity, I owe you one. I whisper the password, finding some amusement in the fact Ron just gave it to me earlier when I wondered out loud how their passwords and entrance to the tower worked, compared to the other houses. And I was sneaking in, using that information to steal his rat.

Well, considering who that rat is. He really ought to thank me, actually.

I don't pause to stare at the Gryffindor common room, I'm on a mission, I quickly make my way up the stairs, quietly opening the door to Ron and Harry's dorm.

A few quick steps have me by Ron's bed. I grimace as I see Scabbers laying at the foot of the bed. At least he isn't sleeping with the damn rat on-top of him or something creepy like that.

In quick succession I fire off two stunning spells. One for Scabbers, one for Ron. I want no chance he'd wake up in the middle of my abduction.

My Animagus proof cage comes out of my mokeskin pouch and I open it, levitating Scabbers until he is above it, not wanting to even touch him. I turn the cage and end the spell, the fat rat falling into the open cage with a soft thud. I immediately close and lock the cage. Sending one quick glance around the room to make sure I didn't somehow leave something behind.

Within minutes I'm back where I left Harry, covering him with the cloak again - with some effort. No one is the wiser of what has happened.

Although I probably didn't help Harry, by giving him the mystery of who knocked him out to puzzle over.

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I enter the Undercroft with Pettigrew still stunned and locked away in the goblin silver cage I carried him in. Having taken the time to make sure Harry is covered as closely as possible as he was before, even levitating him out in the hallway again - albeit putting him to the side, so he doesn't get stepped on. He'd wake up wondering what happened, but there was no helping that.

"Success, I take it?" Sebastian says casually as I drop the cage on the desk.

"I have him, yes." I say quietly. Not looking forward to what I'll see in the traitors mind. But knowing it's necessary for my own mind to heal. I need to learn Legilimency.

I turn to Ominis portrait. "You said you'd teach me, if I had a subject that was not innocent nor a student. I have him, a Death Eater."

Ominis pursed his lips in displeasure. "I suppose I will honor my words. I do not like the idea of any student having the power of Legilimency." He grumbled, "But I did say I would, so I shall."

"Have I proven myself to be unworthy of it? I've done more in one semester than most Hogwarts students do in their seven years here." I say testily. The nerve of some magical portraits, really. How many hoops do I need to jump through?

"Exactly." Ominis says ominously. "What could you be, I wonder. With even more power at your fingertips."

"He'd still be a Hufflepuff," Sebastian scoffs, leaning against the border of his portrait, "Don't be such a worrywart, Ominis."

"It is because I look ahead, that I survived, when you did not, Sebastian!" Ominis says coldly. Getting a chilled smile in return from Sebastian, not that he could see it.

"I've promised not to use it on students." I say slowly, "I can't guarantee what I'll be, six years down the line, but surely that promise means something."

"Very well, but as I've stated before, should this man be a master occlumens, you will get nowhere no matter what skill you gain." Ominis warns, looking utterly reluctant. "If he has perfected the void, fake memories, utterly indistinguishable from real memories will be all you can touch."

I snort, drawing my wand, "He is not a master occlumens, that I can practically guarantee." I say, shaking my head at the thought of Peter Pettigrew being a master of the mind arts. Sure, things were different from canon. But c'mon, master occlumens, pfth, Wormtail is not that. I can guarantee that!

"Fine. You know the incantation, obviously." Ominis drawls slowly. Crossing his arms over his chest, "Reading a mind is not a science, it will be jumbled, a great mass of random thoughts and memories, a disciplined mind is necessary." He stresses. "Any stray thoughts you have, will send you towards any memories of the victim regarding such a thing." His lips twitch slightly upwards, "Make sure you've been to the privy beforehand, you do not want to have a stray thought of needing it while in someone's mind." He warns, drawing laughter out of Sebastian.

"Was that a joke? Ominis?" Sebastian asks, utterly delighted. His eyes narrow suddenly, a sly smirk appearing, "Or speaking from experience?"

Tellingly Ominis is completely silent as Sebastian snickers.

I hum in thought, disregarding the toilet humor, "So say I want to view his memories of Death Eater meetings?" I ask. "Like -"

Ominis cuts in before I can continue, "Then you'd enter into a jumble of memories that has even the slightest connection to Death Eaters or meetings regarding them, you will have to be much more specific." He frowns, unseeing eyes staring in my direction, "The mind arts are no joke, if you fall into memories too quickly, too often, without direction, you can lose yourself, until you're stuck flowing in the river of their subconscious, never to get out.*

"So the basis of mind reading is knowing what you're looking for…" I muse out loud. It made sense, if a mind held a person's entire life, a mind reader would be lost in a sea of dross and general things - like memories of brushing your teeth. So you had to focus, to zero in on one thing. Which would cut away most of it - yet that one thing could still be connected to hundreds of memories - so yet again, you'd have to focus it further. And continue until you find what you were looking for. Obviously I am not going to lose focus so there was no chance of me becoming adrift, so I took note of the warning, but I'm not overly worried.

"How does any possible shielding he might have, affect this?" I ask, curious. Pettigrew is definitely not at Snape's level - but he might have at least some training. He was a spy for awhile, surely he at least tried to learn it.

"If he has some training, the best he can do is attempt to divert you or throw you out, rudimentary Occlumency can not craft fake memories. Although until you get better he'll likely succeed fairly easily at diverting you at least." Ominis says dismissively, "In that case you can just tire him out by constant violations of his mind, it will open it up further." From the look of distaste on his face, Ominis is not a fan of this tactic.

"I guess there's nothing to do but try, I'm sure I'll have more questions once I've seen what it's actually like." I tell the portrait. I take a deep breath centering myself, raising my wand against the insensinate rat. Calling out, "Legilimens!"

It feels like I am sinking, yet there is nothing around me to sink through, like I'm floating in mid air, yet at the same time feeling like I'm in the ocean, sinking further still, I have no eyes, yet I can see flashes of things, too quick to take in, appearing before me. Death eater meetings. I think concentrating hard. Willing it forward. Pressing my 'presence' forward in this weightless space. It's like a curtain is pulled apart, thousands upon thousands of tiny motes of light I wasn't even aware of - departing, leaving only one bright light rapidly approaching me, or am I approaching it? I lift a hand that doesn't exist, yet still feels like it does, to shield me from the light. Trying to focus on the phrase Death Eater meetings, while in the back of my mind somewhere a niggling of doubt grows, surely there can't only be one memory.

Did I do it wrong?

The light swallows me up, and suddenly I am me again, standing in a memory. I hear whispers, emotional ones, someone's arguing. I look around me and freeze. This is the burrow, I have no doubt about it. It's exactly like the books describe them. All wonky and homey at the same time.

Just barely, I can hear what must be Arthur and Molly arguing, something about the order and a crashed Death Eater meeting that had almost killed him once. Molly growing shriller as she badgers her husband, demanding he takes better care of himself, that she did not want to go back to worrying about if he would come home, like she had that night. That he couldn't just stay late at work and not let her know. How it brought back scary memories she'd rather forget.

I feel sick to my stomach, spying Ron, not older than perhaps 4 or 5, spying through a crack in the door. That's why there's only one memory of Death Eater meetings. I think - absolute horror growing throughout me. This is wrong…

I focus again, childhood memories. I flash through them, there's thousands, I'm not practicing my skill, I'm not focusing on one in particular, this isn't about that anymore. Desperately I am entering one memory after another.

No, no, no! It's all the same. This is impossible. Why? I drift between memories, before forcefully pulling myself away, remembering Ominis warning.

No wonder it had been so easy… There were no shields…

I flee the mind, falling on my ass as I return to reality. Staring in horror at the pet rat. The one that's supposed to be Peter Pettigrew. He's supposed to be an Animagus.

The one that's clearly Ron Weasley instead. Ronrat. Not Scabbers. Not Wormtail. Ronrat.

Ronald Weasley, who's last coherent memory of himself as anything but a rat, was years ago. Years!

What's even happening anymore!?

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Authors note:

Of course it wouldn't be that easy, Peter Pettigrew might have been portrayed as a bit of a idiotic coward with absolutely no redeeming qualities by JKR, which makes one wonder how on earth he ever managed to befriend the Marauders…

Here, being a Death Eater means something. Spying on the order and his best friend's are the act of an accomplished manipulator and liar. Pettigrew, in a world more dangerous and filled with competent wizards - could not survive it as the weak caricature from canon. So like so many others in this AU, he isn't that stupid little fat toady. As to how he accomplished any of what he's done, I guess you'll have to guess, or wait to find out. AU remember. I'm curious how quick someone will be on figuring out some of the hints of this chapter.

Note, as I've said before. More competent, does not mean they're not all still bigots in various places - at least the majority of the people that actually have power in the magical world. Public perception matters however, and of course this all is all so very nice and a great way to give muggleborns a hand up. Listen to the Daily Prophet, it knows all.

Now before this gets any complaints that Lucas is still too weak - being evaded by competent adult wizards, or in the case of politicians, blindsided - since he's not exactly on the Wizengamot…. Compare the things he's done to literally any Hogwarts student in canon. He's very obviously not weak. He's just not comparable to an adult wizard - yet. It's the first year - it will come. And in some ways he's already ahead of adult wizards. Legilimency isn't exactly a skill many pick up…

This will continue to evolve away from anything looking like canon. So please take that in consideration on whether you want to continue to read it or not. It will not be canon.

Book two and three are already completely thrown off the canon rails as it is - just from one semester of first year.

Also, I actually quite enjoy Ron in canon, albeit I disagree with him and Hermione ending up together. For this story however, it didn't make sense to me for Pettigrew to just hang around as a rat, when he had the ability to do differently and befriend the boy-who-lived to boot. So Ron suffers the consequences. Goodbye golden trio.

Needless to say - in this story it wasn't an accident 'Ron Weasley' ended up in Harry Potter's compartment.

As for Snape. Unfortunately this story doesn't have an absolute moron as Lord Voldemort. So no. Killing the woman you love does in fact count as the big bad realizing you probably don't want to kiss his robes anymore.

At least Lucas has no stress to deal with. Other than finding what Voldemort is up to, who's spying on him, the fact he now has no one to practice Legilimency on to be able to reverse his obliviation, Lucius Malfoy being up to something involving him, which seems to have almost created a muggleborn registration act lite, the fact he currently is in possession of a pet Ron. Oh yes, and the tiny detail of Peter Pettigrew apparently being the best friend of Harry Potter. So stress free. Totally.

Is magical pot a thing?

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

I'll probably always get reviews complaining and bitching about Tonks, (especially after this chapter) but that's what happens when you change things around with a favorite fanon character - fanon because in canon she barely existed. I write this story precisely because I can pick any other random ten Harry Potter stories and everyone will be the same! Tonks for example, is in general, written exactly the same in almost every fanfiction I've ever read, which = BORING! So I switched things up a little - if that's not for you that's perfectly fine. Even if Ophelia wasn't around, the same kind of situation would have still happened if maybe not quite as in your face, so…

I'm not changing it.

Kudos to those very few who; previous to the last chapter wondered why Ron seemed a little bit off during his very few appearances. Well spotted. Couldn't exactly have him be around too much or it would have been obvious for y'all.

To those saying it's a bit much this year. Yeah Death Eaters are competent dangerous wizards. So is Dumbledore's lot and the ministry who's working with Dumbledore to an extent - you just don't get to see them much at this point.

Conflict breeds excellence as well, Lucas wouldn't be growing at the rate he is for very long without it. For all that everyone says if they were put in a world of magic they'd just study all the time and learn it all - realistically very few human beings work like that, just constantly improving ceaselessly in big leaps - without something else pushing them.

Also divination works less the more it's used as I've stated. So yes he is still finding situations not going 100 percent his way. Divination is not perfect. And with how often he's using it…

Let's get to finding out what on earth Lucas is going to do about Pettigrew, shall we?

Also, poor, poor Weasley's.

I pump out between 10-20k a week on my stories so please don't judge any minor mistakes too harshly.

Chapter warning: mentions of rape, torture, mind control, and not so nice things in general.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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This can't be happening! The thought keeps repeating in my head as I pace furiously in front of the cage holding Ron bloody Weasley! This situation is so out of the blue I can't even… How? HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN!?

"What did you find?" Sebastian asked, a playful little smirk on his face as he crossed his arms, leaning against the border of his portrait, "I've never seen you so frazzled, did the mean man's memories upset your Hufflepuffness?" He mocks.

I snarl wordlessly at the portrait, pulling at my hair in sheer frustration and admittedly, some fear. Because this situation is rapidly devolving into something I can't control. Peter Pettigrew is the best friend of the boy-who-lived!

What even is this bullshit?

Sebastian just chuckles, looking infinitely amused at my woes. Ominis on the other hand looks worried, voice sharp and commanding as he asks, "What did you encounter? Legilimency is not an exact art and you are a beginner…"

I take a deep breath, my eyes shut tightly, nope, the panic is still there, just under the surface. What am I going to do!? I can't even look at the rat… At Ron, without feeling sick to my stomach. Ominis asks me something again, voice cutting through sharply, but I ignore it, my thoughts rapidly moving from scenario to scenario - trying to fix this!

"Lucas!" Ominis shouts angrily, "Answer me, right now!" Followed by actual hissing. The man seemingly incensed inside the boundary of his canvas, seemingly cursing up a storm.

I turn sharply to fully face him and stare at the portrait, somewhat incredulously, "Are you cursing me out, in parseltongue!?"

Can snakes curse? What would they even say?

"Ominis, losing your cool like that, good show, mate!" Sebastian teases irreverently, clapping his hands, seemingly taking great amusement not only from Ominis heightened emotions, but from my own ruffled state.

"Shut up, Sebastian!" Ominis and I snap at the same time. The portrait of Sebastian Sallow chuckles at our ire and mimes zipping his lips, a grand smirk on his face.

Fucking Slytherins…

"That rat… Isn't the Death Eater I thought he was…" I share with Ominis quietly, another perspective couldn't hurt at this point. I lack any ideas on how to resolve this situation on my own, "It's a student, transformed against his will, likely by that same Death Eater…" I pinch my nose, feeling a stress migraine oncoming, "Fuck, forget student, for all that he's eleven, he's actually just a small kid…"

"... You used Legilimency on a child!" Ominis says with a horrified tone. "That's… Do you have any idea how dangerous that is to a young mind!? You could have damaged it irreparably, twisted his mind, any number of mental maladies! You're a beginner at Legilimency, only a master could pull that off without doing injury!"

I drag a hand across my face, not able to believe this, " That's what you're focusing on right now!?" I shout, shaking a fist at the portrait, just angry at the stupid portraits priorities, "Not the fact a kid is stuck as a rat for Morgana knows how long! That a Death Eater is masquerading as a student, or the fact said Death Eater lent me the password into the common room on the day his pet rat disappeared!"

I stop, horrified, a sinking feeling in my stomach, "Oh, Merlin, he'll know…" The already tenuous situation just amped up into the stratosphere. Peter Pettigrew would know I'm behind the sudden disappearance of his rat. Which by itself could be maybe explained away as me doing some sort of prank, however uncharacteristically of me… I close my eyes in dismay, feeling off kilter, I have to grab onto the desk to stay upright, I had stunned him! Something eleven year old Ron Weasley would have never noticed when he woke up. But an adult wizard? Peter Pettigrew would likely know he'd been stunned at some point during the night when he awoke, I couldn't count on him being unaware, I've made too many faulty assumptions as it was. Pettigrew, stunned, at the same time as his rat mysteriously vanishes. The same night he gave me the password to the Gryffindor common room…

I am so utterly deeply fucked!

"Get a professor, this is beyond you!" Ominis snapped, face somewhat paler than normal, "Not only for your safety… Think of the student!" He gestured to the cage holding Ron. "This is not the kind of thing a first year can deal with!" He grimaces, "He'll need help as soon as possible, so someone can fix whatever extra damage you have done!"

I can't even get out an answer before Sebastian jumps in, "Are you mad, Ominis? How is he going to explain to a professor how he knew any of this? Admit to kidnapping and Legilimency? The fact he has a hideout under the fidelius charm? The knowledge he somehow has, of a Death Eater hiding? Whether as a rat or a student doesn't matter." Sebastian gave me a critical look, "You can't even explain that to us," He said with a condescending sneer, "Good luck facing the authorities."

Ominis and Sebastian fell into bickering as I stumbled away, torn between conflicting feelings. I needed to help Ron and stop Pettigrew. Not for any reason could I allow Ron to continue to suffer this life. Merlin… He's not even anywhere near Hogwarts age mentally… Yet… I can't do this alone, but calling in a professor is tantamount to suicide.

Maybe not quite that dramatic. But it feels like it. If I have to reveal how I knew about Pettigrew, that was opening a Pandora's box I could never close again. Even if the Ministry didn't get involved and dosed me to the gills… Which… Death Eater at Hogwarts - they definitely would. Dumbledore, if he kept it in house, somehow, would equally request everything I know anyway. There isn't really a reasonable excuse that I can give - that will pass muster for how I know about Pettigrew. And trying to bullshit my way through it in front of a master Legilimens is not a plan I want to rely on… If I reveal all this, I'll face the consequences of using restricted mind magic on a child, and whatever damage I've done… A pureblood child as well.

Can anyone say muggleborn be fucked?

Everytime I do something to get ahead another door opens to smack me in the face…

I open up the Marauders map, heart sinking as I realize Harry and his handy invisibility cloak is long gone. Back to his dorm again. Well, going back and capturing Pettigrew on my lonesome would have been a bad plan anyway, a knee jerk reactive and hasty one. He might still be stunned, and if not, still be sleeping. If I snuck in under the invisibility cloak again I might get him… But still, I'd have no way of explaining anything.

What good would it do to expose Pettigrew if it ruined me in the process? I might be rooting for Harry, and yes, low key helping him get better as a wizard and as a person… But I don't like anyone that much - that I'll put myself under Veritaserum from the Ministry or Dumbledore.

My life would be ruined.

Then there was the matter of my Legilimency practice. I need it. It's the only way to unlock my memories, before the obliviation sinks in so deeply I can no longer retrieve them. It's also the only way to fix the damage I've done to myself with my mishap with Occlumency. Ron needs to be freed, my mind recoils from even the stray thought of using him to practice. I don't want anything to do with that kind of idea, I'm not evil. I might have some stretchable ethics, but mindraping a kid is so far over the line I can't even imagine it.

I moan, covering my face, more than the one count of mindraping a kid I already managed now…

I need Pettigrew. So… Do I necessarily have to reveal him to save Ron? Saving Ron is the important part, right? Letting him and his family get back to regular life…

My mind latches onto that thought - like a man stranded in a desert, dying of thirst and then finding an oasis. Do I really need to reveal him, right this moment? If I capture Pettigrew and keep him captive for my practice… I can still let Ron go, there would be an investigation as to why he's suddenly mentally much younger, but that's only for the better isn't it? An investigation into the Weasley's should find and fix whatever other horror Pettigrew has done.

It would give the Weasley's some support. Hell, it might even have Dumbledore get off his ass and help them out. Like he should have after letting their daughter be mind controlled by a dark artifact all year in the second book while he failed to lift a finger... If Ron's situation was heavily publicized, maybe Dumbledore would feel the need to show off his benevolence by actually helping for once.

The more I think about it, the more the idea settles as my way forward. I can not reveal to Dumbledore or the Ministry about my flawed future knowledge, I just can't. By the end of the semester, surely I'll have enough practice in Legilimency. I can have someone 'find' Pettigrew at that point. It would give me the chance to practice the Obliviation spell as well … Not like I particularly care if I mess up with Pettigrew as the practice dummy. Even as a drooling simpleton - if I do mess him up, finding him at the end of the year, with a dark mark on his arm to boot, might be enough to get Sirius Black a trial at the end of first year instead of… Well, never.

Yeah, still looking at you, Chief Warlock… Fudge wasn't super fascist barbie yet at that point. A politician like Dumbledore could surely suck up enough and manipulate the bowler hat dunce to blame it on the previous administration.

Freeing Sirius Black in the process.

Surely he had enough influence for arranging just a quick session with Veritaserum…

Maybe my newfound fame could be used to leverage an interview or two to comment on the oddity of no trial and how Pettigrew not being dead surely meant the case needed to be reopened…

Surely that would make things up to Harry… For keeping Pettigrew a secret for the rest of the year. For not letting him know what happened to Ron. Not the full truth anyway.

Yeah… Not really… I know I'm being selfish right now…

But it's the only card I can play. Realistically. Ron gets help, the Weasley's get help. Harry gets his godfather back… Hopefully. It's not all together entirely a bad idea.

Just… How by Merlin's saggy ballsack am I going to pull it off in the first place?

I check the time, a frown pulling at my lips, and how do I get it done before Pettigrew either does a runner or does something worse… Like kills the boy-who-lived. If he believes he's been discovered, who knows what he'll do. I certainly don't feel up to predicting it, not with how incredibly useless my future knowledge has proven to be in most cases. Divination can't account for all variables, and the more I ask the less it will work…

I lick my dry lips, still feeling completely thrown out of my equilibrium, finger finding someone on the Marauders map. Someone by themselves and out after curfew. Someone I can probably trust.

Nymphadora Tonks.

She's kind of technically an adult.

If you squint.

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As I enter the training room not too far off from the defense against the dark arts stairwell, I'm met with the sound of explosions. Tonks, bright red hair (Uh-oh, bad sign) plastered to her face with sweat, her robes discarded on the floor by the entrance, only wearing a sports bra and a pair of shorts - is furiously firing explosive spells at the far wall.

She lets out a wordless roar as she slashes her wand down sharply, an absolutely screeching flare of magic sending a fireball the size of Hagrid forward to impact the wall. Whatever magic regenerates the training room area from its abuse is not able to keep up any longer - as the debris and scorch marks remain instead of immediately beginning regeneration. Also, holy fuck Tonks, where was that when you were dueling Death Eaters in canon?

She collapses onto the floor, letting out a sob, her wand rolling away from her limp hand, and I hesitate at the door.

I haven't been paying much attention to Tonks lately. I've obviously missed something, making me feel even worse about myself, I've been a bad friend and this all just makes it worse. Because I'm here to use her, aren't I? Sure, I'll be asking for help from a friend, but it's a pretty hefty favor for someone who's known me less than a year.

How exactly do you ask someone to take down a Death Eater for you - to keep captive illegally? Someone who wants to go into law enforcement.

I walk forward softly, putting Pettigrew out of my mind for the first time since I discovered Ronrat. Tonks is in pain. I need to be a friend first right now, even with the bad timing. Live up to my Hufflepuff sorting, also, because I'm not actually a total asshole. That too.

"...Tonks…" I say hesitantly, as I get within a few feet of her sobbing form, not sure if she's noticed my arrival at all.

She jerks up, hand scrambling for her wand, her face morphing almost undetectably. As she pretends she wasn't just sobbing desperately. "Lucas? Come to peep, huh? Stalking older girls at night, I'm kinda proud of you to be honest, you little go-getter!" She jokes, no sign of tears or any kind of emotional upheaval on her face as she turns my way.

Did she just… Morph away her tear ducts and wet eyes? I think, feeling disturbed. Biting my lip as I slowly sit down next to her, eyeing her carefully. Something just seems… Brittle, about her smile.

"I figured you might need a friend… And well I need you as well, Tonks, so can't say I'm being completely altruistic about it either, but I'm here, if you need me." I say, trying to show my sincerity, meeting her eyes seriously.

Tonks scoffs, pulling some of her sweaty hair in front of her, growing it longer as she does, covering up her sweaty, sports bra clad chest, "I'm fine, no need to check up on me, little baby claw." She states flippantly, but her eyes won't meet mine. Her knuckles are white as she holds her wand in an iron grip.

My hand clenches hard around my knee as I sit, silently appraising her, she's covered herself up, which is unusual for the normally flirty and outrageous girl. Her avoiding my eyes is also setting off warning klaxons in my head. I've been so busy… Yet… How have I not noticed this? "Tonks… It's okay. I won't judge you for anything… I've been an idiot, for not noticing, for not getting involved in your life when you obviously needed a friend." She stiffens as I talk, a shudder running through her as she makes an aborted motion, stopping as I continue on, "I'm sorry, Tonks… I should have realized…" I grimace, in hindsight, that weird interaction in the hallway outside the common room… I shouldn't have just dismissed it as Tonks being weird and with myself having little time for drama. A good friend doesn't just do that.

Tonks punches my shoulder suddenly, "Stop being a sap! What is this? You suddenly grow a twat, Lucas? Come on!" She flexes her arm, a crooked smirk on her face, "This is me, ain't nothing that's gonna put me down for the count." She jumps to her feet, waving her wand, the sweat sluicing off her in one motion, a small ball of it being sent unceremoniously against the wall, her hair turning pink and spiky again, "I don't need any apologies, what are you even giving one for? Firsties, always so sensitive." She clicks her tongue, a mocking expression on her face.

I can't shed my worries, or the uncomfortable feeling in my gut. Now that I'm looking. Really looking. I can see the tightness around her eyes, the unnatural wideness of her smile. The whole… Brittle feeling to her everything, like she's made of clay and one strike away from shattering. "Tonks… If you need anything from me, anything. I'm here." I say, sighing as I stand up. I can't force it on her. I've not been as good of a friend as I should have been. Why would she confide in me?

I've juggled so many things, at least… I can do better from now on. I'll have several classes less now, I'll have more time. I'll do better with all my friends!

Her wand taps my nose, as she raises an unimpressed eyebrow, "What I need is for the little baby claw to stop acting like he's my big brother or something, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." There's a little bite to the end of the sentence as she stares me down.

I eye the wall that's finally starting to regenerate. Usually on days where Tonks have deigned to practice with me, she's been absolutely vicious - but with finesse and precision. Seeing that wall and the damage… That was not her usual style. "Well if I were your big brother, I'd say you don't have to do it all alone." I say finally. Leaving it at that.

Better if I was really. I hate being eleven…

"Whatever," Tonks says, rolling her eyes, before giving me a shooing motion with her hands, "Turn around so I can get dressed properly, I need to change out of this." She indicates her training clothes.

I turn around immediately, taking a few steps away to give her some privacy, now even more sure something is wrong. I've been in here with Tonks several times, both for training, ( living target practice to let her shoot at moving targets.) And for simply watching her go at it - firing spells until her stamina ran out. Each time she's tried to tease me, almost flashing me before laughing at me, making fun of me. Never has she shown any body shyness or attempted to cover up - like today. I mean I should be facing away at this moment, that's normal for being a guy, even a young one, while a teenage girl changes. It's just not normal for Tonks' behavior around me.

A rapid change in behavior is rarely because of something good happening.

"So, what's up? Tonks asks after a few minutes, fully dressed again in her school robes.

I turn to her, reluctant to involve her at this point. It feels too much like taking advantage of her being in a bad place. Maybe I can still take down Pettigrew alone. It would certainly be better for operational security so to speak…

"Lucas…" Tonks says warningly, fingering her wand, "I am not some frail flower, if you're going to start doubting me, I'll have to re educate you!"

The way she's staring at me I have no doubt I'll be in for another session of dodging everything, if I try and change my mind right now. And I do need her. She's essential for the ad hoc plan I came up with. I literally can't do this without her within the time constraints, as much as I want to leave her out of it.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, "So… Hypothetically, if I needed to catch a Death Eater masquerading as a student and couldn't involve a professor without myself getting a date with a Dementor or something… Would you be willing to lend a hand?" Dementor might be an exaggeration, but an easy way to explain it… I think, watching Tonks with trepidation.

Tonks eyes me weirdly, "Bloody Hell! what have you gotten into, Lucas?" She cracks her neck with a weird twist to her lips after a moments thought, her eyes flashing with something I can't identify, "Sounds like fun, let's do it!"

"I know, it's a lot to ask, but I wouldn't ask if I had any other cho- … What?" I start out rambling, before stopping mid sentence as I realize she's accepted, no questions asked. "Tonks… This is dangerous!" I stress, feeling more alarmed than thankful.

No one sane just accepts something like this without any questions! I wouldn't accept it if someone asked me!

Tonks shrugs carelessly, "Yeah, yeah, potential death and torture and what not. Why not? My dance card is free right now, innit?"

What. The. Fuck?

"Don't you want to be an Auror? Don't you have any questions?" I ask, feeling off kilter, rapidly feeling the scale of; is something wrong with Tonks - tipping heavily into the wrong direction.

Tonks crosses her arms, a stubborn look on her face, "Aurors catch Death Eaters." She says insistently, an intense look growing in her eyes, as she begins to get jittery, moving her feet, her hand tapping against her arm without her even seemingly aware. "And I trust you, Lucas, you're my onl- you're a friend."

I don't miss that slip. Ophelia… What have you done? I think, a miserable expression on my face as I take in Tonks' stubborn look. She's going to follow me against a Death Eater. Which, yes, I want her help. But not… Not like this. She's not even wanting to know why!? She's just… Looking for any excuse… It's not until now, when I'm seriously studying her, that I catch the glint of silver on the chest of her robes. A prefects badge. Ophelia has… Lost or given up her position? And Tonks got it instead. What have I missed? I've not been away from Hogwarts that long!?

"So how are we doing this?" Tonks says sharply, the look on her face intimidating that she won't take no for an answer now.

She already knows this much. It's not like I can afford to go without her anyway now.

I need to spend more time with her after this though.

I'm… Actually worried…

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We only had two hours until breakfast, So not a lot of time to plan. And this entire thing would mean I would have to trust Tonks a helluva lot. But I have already been trying to go at things alone so far, and honestly. It's been a pretty mixed bag as far as successes go.

I need allies. Friends. Not just… Stumbling through the dark by myself. I obviously haven't had great success so far.

Still… As she stalks off to begin phase one, breakfast is almost ready to start. I carefully take my mooncalf dice and roll them around in the palm of my hand. It feels disingenuous to do this for all that I talk of friendship and allies. But surely I should at least check. I have already rolled on the likelihood of my plan working to capture Pettigrew and received a not entirely helpful answer of - Yes, no and yes again. Which… Thank you divination for that amazingly helpful answer… I think sarcastically.

For a world of magic - which should make so many things easier - it certainly seems like everything is constitutionally set up to make things harder for me at every step of the way.

With a guilty look at the door from which Tonks had left the room, I roll the dice. Asking my question, hoping the two important divinations in a row wouldn't dilute the magic too much for my answer, "Will Tonks betray my trust in the near future?"

And Merlin, do I feel like an ass, for even asking.

I pick up the dice letting out the breath I have been holding in, the answer is a clear no.

Comforting, in a way.

Although I wonder what in Merlin's name possesses the girl into trusting me so deeply.

I certainly haven't been a good enough friend to earn it. And I've known her less than a year - and then there's the age difference, well the physical age difference anyway.

I glance at the map, keeping track of Tonks movements against the first target, as well as 'Ron Weasley' still snoring away in the Gryffindor dorms. Pettigrew must have altered the map, or perhaps it doesn't work properly on a Marauder.

Tonks is on her way. The dice has been thrown. I have my own preparations to do.

I'm not an expert on runes, but I've had access to quite a few advanced books in the Undercroft - When Ominis let me anyway… And I've known about Pettigrews presence since before I started Hogwarts, so it wasn't hard to study up on the wards needed to hold an Animagus.

Without his wand, and his transformation… Pettigrew would be no real threat against two wands.

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Percy Weasley is a complete swot. Tonks thinks in exasperation as she enters the library. It wasn't even breakfast time yet, and he was already in the library plugging away at his studies. How did he cheat his way past the hat to avoid Ravenclaw?

He also happens to be an absolute bore - which also fits most Ravens she's ever talked to. Tonks can't begin to understand how he's even a Weasley, he is nothing like the rest of them. Although apparently Ron is like a Death Eater or something... Maybe she should have let Lucas explain it properly. But.. She had barely been holding it together. And the little shit is way too perceptive for a stupid firstie.

Like he's stupidly smart. Tonk is kind of flattered that he even lets her hang around, the kid is going to be, like super famous or something. Not someone that should hang with a perennial fuck up like her.

A duel to the death definitely would be better than crying her eyes out like some pathetic girl though. Not that Lucas' plan covered much dueling. Merlin, he's such a Hufflepuff.

Better one than her… She fingers her prefect badge, feeling sick. Don't think of it. She chastises herself for the hundredth time. She fails at that too, because she's shit like that.

Taking on a Death Eater is just the kind of stupid plan she could get behind right now anyway, even if Lucas removed like all the fun parts, due to danger and stuff. And it would give her an acceptable target to work out some frustration on. Besides, in the worst case scenario, she gets Avada'd, and well, no loss, right?

Lucas would handle it anyway.

She pauses in the aisle behind where Percy is studying. Taking a deep breath as she looks around her, craning her neck around the corner to see if anyone else was around. Finding no one, she morphs. She conjures a hand mirror and looks herself over critically, adjusting some minor details.

"Mister Weasley. Hard at work already I see." She says as she steps out of the aisle, walking up to the desk he is studying at.

"Professor McGonagall! Is there something I can do for you?" Percy says, looking eager to brownnose, Tonks keeps her composure, looking down sternly at him. Having to stop herself from reacting when the brownnoser immediately makes an assumption for her presence, cringing, "What has Fred and George done now, professor?"

"I am not here for your brother's Mister Weasley." She says primly, "This time." She adds, peering at him through her glasses. "I need you to bring Mister Potter to the caretakers office, it's a delicate matter, so I came to you to ensure it would be handled appropriately and most importantly, silently." She stresses, as she glares imperiously at him.

Percy nods rapidly, gathering up his notes efficiently, "Certainly Professor, I'll do that right away." He seems proud to have been given the honor of escorting a firstie. What a ponce. She thinks, letting nothing show on her face.

Percy rushes off and she goes into another aisle, transforming into Filch. One of her favorites actually.

Not because of how she looks during, because bleh. But because when she goes around the castle as Argus Filch, students and professors alike take shortcuts to avoid her. And if they do meet in a corridor, no one stops to chat. She's practically invisible. And he has like full access to everywhere. Favorite morph, hands down.

She waits in an adjacent corridor near the Gryffs tower until she spots Percy marching by with a very confused looking Harry Potter. She feels kind of bad about his part in the plan. Percy being the brownnoser he is, will not mention to McGonagall or anyone else about this after today, and Harry, once he arrives at Filch's door, will be serving a detention regardless of why he's there or who sent him, and he doesn't complain apparently, even when Snape rips him one, so they're all brill there too. Both Percy and Filch are likely to naturally assume the only reason that Harry is there is for detention no matter what, so it should work.

Sometimes the way Lucas' mind works is a little bit scary.

She walks up to the portrait, now transformed into Harry Potter, confidently giving the confused fat lady the password. Wonder how Lucas has it? I probably don't want to know. She thinks, peering around the Gryffindor common room, it's been awhile since she's gotten an invite here.

Charlie Weasley… He'd been a good bloke. Until suddenly he wasn't. Bad memories, everywhere I go. She thinks with a shake of her head.

She quickly makes her way up to Harry Potter's dorm. She needed to be quick about this in case the real Harry got sent back for some reason, however unlikely. Filch wasn't likely to be merciful this early in the morning on a weekend. She didn't think he knew the words to begin with. And yes, she means both merciful and weekend, she thinks somewhat snidely.

She makes it into the dorm room, finding the open canopy of Harry Potter's bed, which means next to it…

She runs over to Ron's bed, waking him by roughly shaking his shoulder.

"Whazzit?" The boy groans, staring up at her blearily, before he suddenly gets a furrow between his brows and his eyes snap up to her sharply.

"Ron, I found this amazing room, you have to come with me! Hurry!" Tonks says, barely hiding excitement as she shakes the boy. All of her actions and words fed to her by Lucas, although he gave her plenty of leave to improvise if needed.

Ron eyes her, a frown on his face, he grasps his wand off the nightstand, "Alright, I suppose." He says begrudgingly. "This will be another thing you owe me though." He mutters with a hint of annoyance.

Tonks has no idea about any of that, so she just nods, hurrying the boy through getting dressed. Inwardly wrinkling her nose at the fact the boy shows no interest in taking care of his hygiene before running out with her.

Alright, so it's good for the plan to leave quickly. But really, not even brushing his teeth. Why were boys always so gross?

Although it's a Death Eater, so she supposed it's really; why are men so gross?

Whatever. Can she hex him yet?

Hurting someone would be great right about now. And well, she'll never have a better acceptable target.

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My eyes are glued to the map as I see them coming towards the room, having already seen Harry get the unfortunate pleasure of having both Argus Filch and Percy Weasley riding herd on him for an impromptu detention.

But it would ensure he was well out of the way for this. With the Undercroft so close by - we should be able to pull this off with no one the wiser.

Eyes on the map I lift my wand, I've already prepared some things around the room, just in case, but ideally we will surprise the man completely.

"Expelliarmus," I cry out the second, 'Ron' steps into the room, his wand already drawn the moment he passes the threshold. Tonks crying out "Incarcerous!" From behind him at the same time, jabbing her wand in his back.

His wand goes flying even as he's tossed aside, ropes swarming him and tying his arms and legs tightly together. He just barely manages to remain standing, giggling as he rights himself up, completely locked down. I get a chill down my spine at the placid easy smile on 'Ron's' face despite being so easily captured.

"Don't even try to transform, my runic ward might be self taught, but I have several NEWTs in different subjects, so you know I didn't make a mistake with it, and it will fuck you up if you turn into a rat in this room!" I say sharply, stepping forward, aiming my wand at his face.

Tonks circles around so she's standing at his other side, her wand also aiming at his face, although she's much closer, a red glow already on the tip of her wand, she's bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking for an excuse to start firing.

Apparently she didn't need one, as I send her a warning look after she sends a stinging hex right into Pettigrews face.

Pettigrew stops giggling, letting out a loose sigh, a placid genuine smile on his face. "A rat? How quaint. For someone able to figure me out, and I will be finding out how you managed that, by the way, I'm very interested in that answer… You've jumped to an erroneous conclusion about me."

"Hurt him a bit now? With an answer like that, you know he's the real deal now!" Tonks says eagerly, stepping into 'Ron' placing her wand against his chin. "You're pretty cocky for a bloke that's failed to hide from a firstie!" She taunts.

I had been worried there would have been some kind of double bluff in play and Ron would be some other poor kid imperio'd or something, I didn't want to accidentally mind rape another kid, in case Pettigrew had a double bluff going on and was actually hiding as Fred or something. But no, this seemed like the confirmation I needed. I open my mouth to agree with Tonks, and then the ropes explode away from Pettigrew.

Pettigrew, who's body changes into an unremarkable plain man, the kind your eyes would just skip over in a crowd with a slight potbelly, brown hair and plain face. The morph disrupts the Incarcerous spell as his body expands to that of an adult. Pettigrew already moving, my stupefy missing him as the grinning man grasp Tonks wand hand and breaks it in one smooth motion, drawing a scream out of her, as he snatches up her wand, firing a non verbal banishing charm at her, sending her flying into the nearby wall, where she hits with a sickening crunch, her scream cut off as she slides down insensinate to the floor.

My second and third stupefy miss as well as Pettigrew changes size as he casually strolls my way, smaller, thinner, at first - then back to an adult size, making his legs three times as long to simply let my next shot aimed at his torso - pass through between his now elongated legs. The control of his transformation is exquisite. The man isn't an Animagus! He's a Metamorphmagus!

"Incarcerous." Pettigrew intones lazily, not needing to with his obvious mastery of non verbal spells. The man grins widely as the ropes snap my arms together, my wand falling uselessly to the floor. My own whispered last spell seemingly failing to do anything, flashing into the floor.

My eyes flicker to Tonks, as I bite my lip, the blood on the floor… If I keep him talking. It could work. There's still a chance. Please let her still be alive!

Pettigrew taps Tonks' wand against his cheek, humming, "Not a perfect match, but it's cute." He says, casually summoning his own wand back, before snapping Tonks wand, giggling at my horrified look as I watch the pieces fall onto the floor, time seemingly slowing down as I stare at the slowly falling pieces, flinching as they scatter across the floor. What have I done!? I should have just stunned him first, not double checked if he was really him! Keep it simple stupid!

"How… How dare you!?" I hiss, staring in disbelief at the broken wand pieces.

Pettigrew snorts, putting a foot down on one of the pieces and grinding down, "Oh, this little thing? If that upsets you, oh silly, you're going to have an awful time, going ahead." He laughs, sending a silent spell at me that tears a drawn out scream out of my throat, I twist and strain in the ropes holding me, screaming for what feels like forever.

He licks his lips hungrily, staring at me with a mad glint in his eyes, "Look on the bright side little mudblood, now you know what it feels like to be on fire, good practice for the real thing." He makes a tsking noise before wagging a finger teasingly in my face, "Oops. ~Spoilers!"

I pant, feeling dread pooling in my stomach, this has gone so very wrong. "You're… How can you even do this, do what you did to the Weasley's, to a child!?" I spit out. Trying to get him talking. To delay.

Pettigrew chuckles, a rabid glint in his eyes, his grin elongating, a sharp canine poking out. "The Weasley's… Oh the things I've done to them… Hahahaha!" He stops suddenly and tilts his head, "Well, except the older twins, they remind me of other times, they got to continue on, unmolested." He smacks his lips together loudly, "And little Ginny I suppose, although I was going to show her a good time in a year or two… Maybe I'll move it up in your honor? Maybe…" He mimes Imperio while wagging his eyebrows, "I'll make you do it, huh?"

Pettigrew casually levitates my bound form, spinning me casually, giggling at me as he makes me bob in the air, before he brings me down right in front of him. He seems supremely confident and at ease, like he's in complete control. This is a Death Eater. I should have made a dozen traps, contingencies on contingencies.

I squirm in my bindings, I just need to keep him talking, the trap I'd set up would work even without my magic or wand, but the magical blood spilt is not a quick way to get it going, even though it should still charge the runes on its own, it should set the runes off eventually… Should. "What did you do? It can't be worse than taking over Ron's life!" I spit out, my face twisted in disgust. Unmolested is a word that draws connotations. The threat of raping Ginny is even worse. Thank Merlin he hasn't yet.

Why couldn't he be pathetic and weak? Someone in this life has to be a worse version of themselves for Merlin's sake! At this rate I'll have to be freaking Dumbledore by year Five to do anything…. If I live through this…

"Oh, you have no imagination, mudblood!" Pettigrew cackles, throwing his head back, he can hardly hold in giggles as he continues, "I was little Percy's first. Do you really think I'd spend that entire time as a rat, although it was a useful way to hide… Did you know that any non-blood related spell to track down a human - doesn't work if you're in a form too small to count as one? Worked really well for me the first few years I must say. Gosh, I spent so much time messing with his head, removing and adding memories… Randomly transforming in his room just to terrify him…" Peter smiles, his eyes far away in reminiscence, "His parents thought he was a bedwetter until he was eleven, but it was just me scaring him all the time, hah! I also particularly enjoyed turning into his daddy, sometimes just giving him a beating just cuz I could." His grin grows darker as he trails his wand across my face, "Percy Weasley isn't really a person, you see. Not anymore." He says to my growing horror, "All he is now is a bundle of authority following, brown nosing, swot tendencies, without any real personality or will left behind. Ever wonder why the boy isn't like his siblings? He really, really isn't!" He snorts loudly and giggles, it coming out almost girlishly, "He'll follow whatever he sees as the largest authority by habit and nothing else will matter, because he can't really think for himself, all his magic is simple repetition, it's all he has left, if it's not in a textbook for him to obsess over compulsively, he'd never even be able to perform magic anymore." He taps his wand against my mouth, tracing my lips for a moment, staring at me creepily, "I'm honestly looking forward to seeing what happens when he leaves Hogwarts, if he shuts down or finds someone else to control his automation."

"You… You erased him!?" I manage to get out, absolute horror filling my entire being, that is my worst fear, manifested ever since realizing I live in a world of obliviation. I fear it more than even Dementors. Having my mind erased, my personality, parts of me, just gone, never knowing what I'm missing. Being lesser.

Percy… Oh Merlin, Percy… No one deserves that! I, by some miracle, manage to keep my bile down. Just barely.

"Yup!" Pettigrew cackles, popping the p, "Of course it isn't even the beginning of what I've done, I had years and nothing really fun to occupy myself with. Well except constantly muddling Arthur's mind, scaring the kids and such." He twirls his wand with a jovial expression on his face, "I'm really quite proud of Fabian and Gideon, though…"

"What?" I ask, utterly confused. Molly Weasley's dead brothers? This conversation was taking a very odd turn. I eye the floor surreptitiously, seeing it starting to shine a little. Fucking come on!

Pettigrew snorts, "Ah, I suppose you aren't really that close to the Weasley's. You see, a man has needs…" He croons slimily, "Which I can see a lad like you understands, what with your little toy," He tilts his head in Tonks direction, making me feel sick all over again, she's not moving… And the idea I'd use her like that… I want to hurt this man. More than anything, right now. "And well, I'd obliviated Arthur so many times the man had become a bit odd. He wasn't really doing it for old Mollywobbles in the bedroom anymore if you get what I mean."He winked at me exaggeratedly, "I had to step up. Only right thing to do I reckon. You'd be amazed at the things a woman will do under the Imperius, Mollywobbles is a freak!" Pettigrew laughs so hard he has to hold his stomach as he practically bends over in half.

What the fuck am I even listening to! I struggle to keep the bile down as I find out just how disgusting Pettigrew is, the things he's done. If I could close off my hearing I would. I don't want to hear this. It's too cruel. They don't deserve this! Why didn't anyone notice Arthur going odd? Percy losing his personality!? Surely they had some friends, someone must have noticed! Why didn't the twins notice!

But… From canon it always seemed that although liked enough as decent folk, the Weasley's didn't really have many close friends… The Lovegoods may have counted, but well…

"Fabian and Gideon are the twins I made with Molly…The only two non-ginger Weasley's." Pettigrew says slowly, savoring the reveal, his eyes alight with cruelty. "Oh, she didn't want to name them after her brothers in the end… Just their names give her pain after all, but I can be mighty persuasive." He taps his wand against my temple teasingly, making me flinch in fear. "It's especially funny since I was the one that gave away the information that got them ambushed and killed in the war." Pettigrew sighs heavily, looking pleased, a far off look in his eyes, "Funny how things come full circle like that, isn't it?"

"You're a monster, did you even hesitate for a second, selling out your friends, your allies?" Come on! Why isn't it working yet? It should be working, come on you stupid spell! I scream internally. I need to get this man down, so I can check on Tonks. Forget about the Legilimency or anything else, just get to Tonks. Please… Please be okay…

Pettigrew snorts, shaking his head, looking very amused, "You just don't get it, muddie. I have always been a spy. I arrived at Hogwarts already used to making myself as unremarkable as possible because information meant gold." He shrugs, eyes almost misty in reminiscence, "While James and the others were prodigies in some ways, I was the biggest of them all, having mastered Metamorphmagic by eleven, further than any before me has ever gone. I was the youngest Death Eater ever recruited at 15." Pettigrew has a look of almost orgasmic delight on his face as he recounts his experience, "The Dark Lord himself came to see me that summer, complimenting me on my obvious mastery and offering me a position in his inner circle, if I'd spy on my professors and eventually the order of the Phoenix for him."

Of course… Of course in this world Pettigrew is a motherfucking genius or something. What else? Am I in a death world? Also, fuck him, who comes into Hogwarts at eleven already planning to spy and deceive people.

I don't count, I'm not technically eleven.

The spell isn't taking effect… Either I messed it up, or it's a bit more delayed than I meant it to be. I need to do something! A stray memory from the beginning of the year hits and in desperation I call out, "I'm in danger and need a Hogwarts house elf!"

Pettigrew chuckles, looking amused, a house elf popping into the room immediately as per the safety system in place at Hogwarts - immediately facing Pettigrew's wand, "Imperio." my shoulders slump in defeat as the house elf's eyes go blank.

Pettigrew gives me a crooked grin, "How cruel of you, not very Hufflepuff to sacrifice the help like this…"

"I forced you into using an unforgivable, Dumbledore will come!" I spit out, hatefully.

It might end things for me, hell, Pettigrew might kill me before he gets here, but at least they'll get this fucker. And can help Tonks. The wards surely won't miss an unforgivable. I know just from reading Hogwarts a History how extensive they are.

Pettigrew looks almost pitying as he looks at me, patting my cheek patronizingly, "Silly, I'm already an exception in the wards. How do you think I've hidden at Hogwarts for years now. I have a dark mark, you know."

I bite the inside of my cheek, tasting blood. Of course. The Marauders map must be attached to the Hogwarts wards. Of course the bastard used that kind of access to exclude himself. They made the map, of course they found a way to access the wards.

If I get out of this… note to self. Get that done for myself too!

Not that I plan on tossing around unforgivables. Except… I glare hatefully at Pettigrew. I'd make room for one exception…

Pettigrew eyes the house elf staring blankly ahead. "Hmm, be a dear, pop into the kitchen, tell all the other house elves that Lucas Greenwood is a naughty boy faking distress calls, and that no elf should listen to another call from him from now on." Pettigrew says, a disturbing grin growing on his face, his fingernails raking against the skin on my face as the man wets his lips excitedly, "Then go to the forbidden forest and fuck an Acromantula, you're not allowed to return until you've-" Pettigrew breaks out in girlish giggles, "- succeeed!" He breaks out in guffaws as he finishes. "Oh, Sirius would have loved that one…" He says fondly.

The house elf pops away and I close my eyes in dismay. I've killed someone… I called the house elf. Plans on how to make Pettigrew get some tender loving from an Acromantula gets added to my mental bank of ideas on how to make the man suffer.

"Now… Let's have a quick chat, with that distraction gone, hmm?" Pettigrew says lips twitching in amusement still, with a wave of his wand Tonks body ragdolls over, Pettigrew waving his wand like he's conducting an orchestra as he contorts her body, her head lolling around, one of her legs bent the wrong way, before sitting down on her, using her like a chair! With the way she ragdolled over, the blood, the cracking of bone without a sound or a movement from her… I vomit, the sight disgusting and horrific. Covering myself in bile as Pettigrew giggles at the sight.

Oh, Merlin, I've gotten her killed! I can't stop the tears as my head dips down, what was I thinking even trying to deal with a Death Eater. Hubris. Getting some NEWTs means nothing in the real world. Overconfidence. I had a good plan and somehow thought that would be enough… And Tonks paid the price. The anger and hatred is so strong in me right now, I feel confident I could cast a perfect Avada Kedavra if I had my wand right now. First year or not.

"Aww, are you sad the little slut is gone? Can't wet your tiny little prick any longer?" Pettigrew taunts, getting a sly look on his face, a face that is slowly transforming. "Don't worry, she's still warm, I'm sure we could still have ~fun!"

"You bastard!" I spit out, grimacing, squirming in my bindings trying to find any give. I really just want to punch him in the face.

Pettigrew chuckles, transformed into the form of Tonks, his now heartshaped face fluttering his eyelashes at me. "Torturing you will be better like this, won't it?" He purrs, Tonks voice making the situation even more disturbing.

He plays with his new breasts over the robe, letting out a throaty moan, "Oh yeah, this bird has the good stuff!" He cackles, a twisted expression crossing his face. I brace for whatever torture is coming, glaring defiantly at him. I won't give him anything. Not this monster.

Suddenly there's a bright flash, Pettigrew yelping, falling off his 'chair' as it explodes into action.

I can only stare through squinted teary eyes, as the spell I'd set up, fails, but malfunctions into a bright flash, Tonks taking advantage of it to toss Pettigrew off her, growling madly as she slithers on top of him and wrestles his wand away, "Stupefy!" She shouts immediately, a red flash managing to get Pettigrew mid transformation as he tries to make himself smaller and harder to hit, not very effective when Tonks is practically sitting on him.

"What… What!? Tonks!?" I manage to get out weakly, holding back tears with some effort, "Tonks! You're okay!?" You're alive! I want to shout, how!? But… Who cares! You're alive! I didn't kill you! My emotions are all over the place in shock and elation.

Tonks grimaces, shaking her head, flinching as she raises her uninjured hand to it gingerly, "I reinforced my skull when he threw me at the wall, managed to play dead pretty good I suppose, figured I couldn't outduel the bastard anyway, and that was before… My wand... I was just waiting for an opportunity." She stood up, cursing quietly as she removes Pettigrew's wand from where she's holding it in her broken hand, fingers twitching madly. "I've never leaned on my metamorph abilities so hard as when he summoned me over to sit on." She spits on the unconscious Pettigrew, "Fucking monster, should kill you right now…"

I shudder, remembering the sick sight of her body ragdolling before then being folded over to sit on with no regard. I am beyond thankful she's okay.

She stumbles over to me, using her off hand to wave the Death Eaters wand at me, vanishing the mess I made, and the ropes holding me.

I immediately step into her, hugging her, making her fall back slightly with an oof. "You saved us, Tonks." I hold her tightly, trying to impart my gratefulness, squeezing her tight, "Thank you, thank you so much!"

Tonks lets me hug her for a minute before she gently pushes me away, gingerly stepping over to where the pieces of her wand lay, sinking to her knees, trembling fingers on her good hand touching the broken pieces. She doesn't cry. But the look on her face is almost enough for me to. I did this.

My constant need to interfere. To get ahead. To get stronger, better, push the boundaries. It's why I wanted Pettigrew at first, to push my mental magic ahead. I had no other reason at the beginning.

I stand next to her, a comforting hand on her shoulder, "This is all my fault, I'll find a way to make it up to you, I owe you, I caused this." For the rest of my life… I can't even afford to buy her a new one… I'll find a way.

Tonks takes a deep breath, looking at her broken hand, nose scrunching up as she seemingly concentrates on the hand. I watch curiously, before almost vomiting again at seeing all the little bones in the hand moving under the skin. Tonks barely wincing, even though it must be excruciating. She's using her powers to set all the bones to right again, I didn't even know that was possible… Then again… I look at Pettigrew. There's a lot I didn't know was possible. Like Pettigrew being such a bad ass metamorph that he could fool the Marauders he was an Animagus, managing to transform into the small animal form. That's such a cheat. How the fuck did he fool Lupin? Werewolves senses?

It's not important right now… Besides, I can now find out…

"Tonks, we have to move him before we risk people being out and about." I say softly. I try to not think about the other consequences of today. The poor house elf. That will be in my nightmares no doubt. I can't afford to be stuck on it right now.

Tonks nods, moving her hand slowly, rotating the wrist, her eyes hard as they stare at Pettigrew. "Lucas. I want my own piece of him. You owe me that." She says. Turning to look up at me, meeting my eyes.

At this moment I probably couldn't turn her down if she asked me to jump off the astronomy tower. I give her a nod, "I have a secret place that can hold him… I can give you access."

Giving her the secret to the Undercroft, sharing it with her. It isn't too bad of an idea. She'll be done at Hogwarts after this year anyway. Plus she just saved my life and fought a Death Eater with no questions asked - which I still have to figure out what's up with that? But if I can trust her to fight Pettigrew, then I can trust her with the Fidelius.

According to Ominis, before I left the room to start this ill conceived plan, his parseltongue control of the room will allow me a cell for Pettigrew, and with him not knowing the secret, plus doped up as he will be on the draught of living death by then - he can't escape, or even talk.

And I'll get my Legilimency test dummy.

And Tonks will get a safe place, one for only us two. And she can take out any frustration on Pettigrew at any time. Hopefully that will be a start on helping her with whatever is hurting her right now.

Honestly I owe her more than that.

"Let me tell you about a place called the Undercroft." I begin quietly, my hand still on her shoulder as she sits, playing with the pieces of her broken wand.

Merlin, do I owe her.

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Tonks took the existence of the Undercroft as a chance to use a number of spells that I'm pretty sure she learnt from her mom.

Note to self, stay away from Black women, they're fucking terrifying. Tonks won't count, right? She's half muggle, I'm sure it will be fine.

If I ever allowed Pettigrew to wake, he'd be missing one part very much. Can't say I disagree with the act as much as it made me green at the gills. I could go the rest of my life without seeing the act of cutting it off in action though. Or the absolutely vicious happiness Tonks displayed in doing the deed.

Tonks left soon after, she had to hit up the medical wing sooner rather than later after all. Both to make sure her morphing attempt to fix her breaks could be properly treated - as she wasn't an expert healer and morphing away injuries wouldn't necessarily fix all the fiddly bits unless she learned all that first. She also needed to go to make up the excuse of destroying her wand in the same training 'accident' that got her injured.

Two days later she had a new wand, and despite her waving off my fervent promises I'd pay her back. I will find a way to make money and pay her back. With interest.

I sent Ronrat to McGonagall shortly after capturing Pettigrew. It lost me my Animagus proof cage, but I wasn't going to trust owls to not eat Ron if I sent him without the sturdy cage holding him in - that was not a chance I could take, I've already done enough damage. I was pretty confident that she'd cotton on that it was a transfigurated student with any time to examine him up close, and with him in the cage she'd at least take a cursory look, wondering why she'd been sent it. I didn't dare send a note explaining things, I didn't want to do anything more that could tie me to any of this at all.

Sure enough, the Weasley's were all soon missing from the castle. McGonagall had found out the truth. Both Tonks and myself were in a dark mood for a while afterwards. We both knew what an absolutely horrible time the family was in for.

If I deal with the Basilisk in my second year… Maybe I can send them the money somehow. Anonymously. They'll need help, I just don't trust in Dumbledore to provide enough of it, or any at all. Other than empty platitudes maybe.

The Ministry I trusted even less.

A despondent Harry and an uncomfortable Hermione spent a lot of time with our study group after that over the coming days. Harry confiding in us what Dumbledore had shared with him.

Which, blatant favoritism, just saying. Students should not be given private medical information like that, but it's Dumbledore so, guess it's legal?

The tampering with the Weasley's had been discovered when Ron's mental state was revealed. The entire family was put under the lens, the Aurors were crawling all over the Burrow. Arthur was on paid leave.

Somehow it wasn't yet in the Daily Prophet. But it was only a matter of time. This would leak.

Malfoy might actually be killed if he tried to taunt Harry with the Weasley's right now. Harry is hypersensitive on the subject. Blaming himself for not noticing, despite the fact he couldn't possibly have known, having just met Ron last semester. But never let it be said that logic was the chosen one's number one skill.

Either way, according to Dumbledore, no Weasley's were returning this year. And to Harry's despair, Ron would not be going to Hogwarts for years. He was nowhere near Hogwarts age. And… someone had done additional damage to his mind.

So yeah… Rooster meet Basilisk. I owe the Weasley's all the millions of galleons.

Merlin… I'm not going to get over this for a while. If ever. I owe restitution, that's just the least I can do. Yeah I revealed it all, but I also mindraped a kid for it…

Hermione quietly confided in me her own mixed emotions about the whole affair a few days after the news broke, feeling bad over being glad Ron was gone, because she'd never liked him - the 'golden trio' never quite meshing. Yet feeling horrible for thinking such a thing about someone that was a victim in all this. She had no idea he was a Death Eater, and hopefully never would. She still had some innocence left in her. I'd like her to keep it at least until the end of the year disaster that likely would still happen.

Hermione and Harry if anything grew even tighter without Ron in the middle to try and set them apart.

Within a week some Brian kid was hanging around with them, Harry and him apparently working through Harry's anger and guilt in the dorm room, Brian apparently having access to therapy books of all things sent from his dad.

So. Kid might have one of the only sane wizarding parents in the world, so good for Harry and Hermione to have that kind of sanity around.

Whatever works, I certainly didn't feel confident in being the therapist in this situation.

Not with my involvement.

I'm done messing with any adults.

I'm gonna study, be a good friend, find out what's wrong with Tonks, and search through Hogwarts for its secret rooms.

No more Death Eaters or politics or any of that.

I'm done.

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Author's note:

Almost didn't get this out on time, made the mistake of reading some fanfics that were of such amazing quality that I felt like my writing was at the quality of a slightly retarded toad at best. I've only been seriously writing since like June, so I can definitely still improve for sure, but it bummed me out for a few days anyway.

Also, I was almost distracted into doing a Pokemon story and the last thing I need is to add a sixth story to my schedule and I barely managed to tear myself away to finish this.

So to go with my habit of mixing things up from canon and fanon in this story - the Weasley's usually have nothing overly bad happen to them other than the normal canon death, not counting bashing fics. So here we have actual real consequences to living with a Death Eater for a decade.

Yes it's horrifying, but that's real life and real consequences for ya. This Peter Pettigrew isn't the absolutely useless sniveling coward canon Peter is. That said, yes he isn't amazing at magic, he's pretty average to be honest. But he's an incredible metamorph.

It also changes the variables for Harry Potter massively. Remove the Weasley's pretty much completely from the picture of the boy-who-lived and what happens? We'll find out I suppose. And yes, that's one of the reasons I'm writing it like this. Because doing something new is interesting to write about.

The good guys are just as competent as the bad guys really. So that begs the question, what exactly is Dumbledore and the Ministry doing behind the scenes?

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Sorry for the wait on this story and my multitude of stories, the laptop I had all my timeline continuity, background information and character sheets on was stolen, so it's taken me awhile to rebuild all that for all my stories.

Next up should be HammerTime, I've also started a worm story called Panacea's Remedy for those interested. Also thinking of crossposting to SB and SV although it seems a hassle to copy any story over there.

Chapter warning: Implied rape and some torture spells going off.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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I look around, eyes narrowed. This is the first time I've properly seen him. Lord Voldemort himself.

He's sitting casual as can be on a large throne, carved snakes of living steel undulating under him, hissing maliciously at his subjects. The rest of the room is cloaked in shadows, some sort of protection spell for his inner sanctum no doubt. All that is visible is the throne and its lord as well as the small space at his feet, holding his subjects. The darkness almost pressing in on them, a presence looming menacingly, making me wonder if there's actually something there in the shadows.

Three Death Eaters kneel before him, fully covered in dark robes, their hoods up, masks covering their faces.

I know one of them is Peter. Or I wouldn't be able to see this memory. I keep a sharp eye on the proceedings, hoping they unmask, providing me with some information of use.

I watch Lord Voldemort, trying to compare him to Canon, but he seems nothing like that mad man, in appearance or mannerisms. His eyes half lidded, his body almost lazily draped across the throne, supremely confident in his lair, yes. But there is a certain charm to him, a certainty in his power and vision that I could see spellbinding his followers.

"You've passed your third level of initiation… As I foresaw when I chose you to join our illustrious brotherhood." Lord Voldemort says smoothly, one finger stroking one of the steel snakes, the metal almost purring as its ruby eyes closes in pleasure. "As I do to all of those who share my vision for a greater future for all our kind, you have earned a small boon."

He flashes a smile, both a threat and a promise, "Choose wisely." He hisses out, a shiver running through the three kneeling figures.

I could see how he managed to amass his followers, I am simply seeing a memory, yet I can almost feel the need to please, to serve this man. The man I know to be a monster without equal. A boon from a Dark Lord is no small thing either, I've never heard of this, so it must be knowledge that hadn't been publicized.

I've looked, and there isn't a lot of any knowledge on the Death Eaters in the public domain. Mostly speculation. Even someone like Igor Karkaroff who'd been arrested, only had rumors in the papers about his affiliation, having been arrested before the Death Eater laws were created.

I know from Pettigrew himself he was marked already in school, by the size of the people here, he's likely an adult in this memory, which means he didn't fully join until he graduated. If this third level invitation is as I suspect, the last step before entering.

Which means Pettigrew bragging about the inner circle for being marked at 15 was complete hyperbole. He perhaps was on a fast track, but in no way was he in the inner circle immediately - if this is any sign.

The figure on the left, speaks up, voice clear and arrogant, "My lord, I wish to ascend to the headship of my house, so that it can be better wielded in your favor." There's a spell or something on the masks I assume, because the voice comes out with an odd timbre to it, making it hard to identify no doubt when they're out fighting Aurors.

Silence reigns as Lord Voldemort mulls it over. Before his eyes narrow, his decision is made."Your father is one of mine, boy… Crucio!" He says casually, a cold cruel smile on his face as the petitioner screams in agony, falling to the ground, heels kicking and scrambling, until his voice grows hoarse, and his fingernails break into a bloody mess scratching at the stone floor. "You chose poorly." Lord Voldemort says with authority, releasing the spell, "Your father has served me for a decade, what right do you have to deprive me of a fine servant, for you? An untested initiate?"

"My lord, I'm sorry, I beg for your mercy, I didn't think!" The previously so arrogant sounding man begs hoarsely, prostrating himself.

I shiver as Lord Voldemort laughs coldly, the more I see, the more I realize how utterly fucked this world is if he's entirely sane, except for the obvious sociopathy of course.

"Your boon is your life. Hold it dearly little snake, "Voldemort says almost playfully, "I shan't let you keep it if you disappoint…"

"My lord… Thank you, thank you for your mercy, I won't ever fail you!" The relief in the man's voice is clear.

"We'll see." Voldemort says smoothly, "I hope you have a wiser… Choice, my sneaky friend?" Lord Voldemort addresses the man in the middle. Confirming my thoughts that it is Pettigrew.

Peter answers immediately, almost eagerly, "Amanda Fawley, I want her dead, my lord." He spits out in a rush, head bowed, arm to his chest.

Lord Voldemort laughs, "Ah, revenge is it? This woman scorned you? Well, Lord Voldemort provides for his dutiful servants, she shall pay for her disrespect."

I close my eyes in dismay, so Peter has been responsible for more than the Potter's death and Sirius' incarceration, when it comes to destroying the Order of the Phoenix. Fawley was a name I recognized as she'd been publicly outed as a member of the Order - when in the war.

Her body had been staked in the middle of Diagon Alley, a sign hanging from her neck, blaming Dumbledore for not looking after his flock well enough.

I can't say I'm surprised to find out about Pettigrew committing more atrocities. My own skill in Legilimency is not the greatest at this early stage, so I've not been able to pick and choose from Pettigrews memories, stumbling along random ones. This is the first Death Eater related memory I've stumbled upon.

Many of his non Death Eater memories were worse. Peter Pettigrew had a mentally ill, abusive mother. He was born a metamorphmagus, showing talent from the beginning which was immediately nurtured by his mother, but not for any loving feeling. I'd seen the memories of his mother forcing him through change after change, constantly pushing him to infiltrate the neighbors as one of their kids, bringing her back juicy gossip she could use to embarrass them or in some cases ruin them.

As he grew older, the more his mother demanded he perform more insidious tasks to bring her the information she desired. Which eventually evolved to planting evidence to create discord and drama so that she could see the payoff.

Including making the then freshly turned eleven year old Peter Pettigrew take on the visage of the mayor and have… Relations with her! Just so she could blackmail him with the evidence, because he'd married another woman, rejecting her advances. No wonder he was completely fucked up.

This world…

The amount of families ruined by the Pettigrews… And because it was internal family drama in most cases, no one ever suspected an outside hand in it.

It's no wonder Pettigrew had entered Hogwarts ready to fool everyone around him and with no care for anyone's feelings or rights, used as he was to a life of taking on another's identity to get the maximum payoff, regardless of who he hurt.

I'd seen some of those first Hogwarts memories. Peter could have been an Adonis if he so wished with his skill in transformation, instead he'd taken on the form he'd kept throughout his years at Hogwarts. A somewhat plump, average boy. He'd intended to be invisible to the staff and student body, to give himself more leeway to sneak around and enrich himself - since no one would pay attention to him disappearing for hours, as he was.

Then he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, disrupting some of his plans. Sorted with the Marauders. He'd realized that he could join them or paint himself as a victim to the vicious Sirius Black and his friend James Potter, two boys he'd met on the train and whose measure he'd already taken. So he'd reinvented himself slightly, became useful to them, while retaining his average and plain mien. Letting the other members take all the limelight and attention, while he was more of a background character. Never suspected of more.

The things he'd done at Hogwarts, while hiding under the umbrella of Potter and Black… The things he'd done using the map and the Potter's invisibility cloak while morphed into someone else…

There were people in Azkaban framed for crimes Peter committed. Good people. No wonder people feared any metamorphmagus', they changed down to the DNA, or at least Peter could . I knew, because Peter had left… It, behind. On some of his capers, and the investigating Aurors had identified the person the material belonged to.

While the wizarding world still wasn't comparable to the muggle world in regards to DNA and fingerprinting and the like - blood and other fluids… They could test fine.

What was left behind wasn't Peter's DNA, but the person he'd transformed into. He'd had many a chortle about that, after seeing some poor innocent get put away or commit suicide because of his actions.

If I had any regrets from capturing the bastard and keeping him in a constant coma, while training my Legilimency by breaking into his mind, they have vanished now.

I watch with disgust as the last Death Eater, a woman, asks for her husband to be murdered in a way that would look accidental so she could take over his estate. This time he wasn't a Death Eater, so Voldemort promised to see him dead as easily as someone might say - nice weather today.

They do not unmask. Not even as they are proclaimed their own cell in the organization following under the umbrella of another cell who follows order from the inner circle. Each of them is given a codename, the only name they are to go by to fellow Death Eaters at any time.

No wonder so few Death Eaters were jailed. I think with exasperation, watching the memory end. Pettigrew's code name… Doppelganger…

Voldemort had actually run a tight ship it turns out. And apparently thought himself funny. Why else name Pettigrew that?

So, Voldemort was a larger threat than in Canon…

What else is new in this crapsack world? I think, annoyed. I can feel my head hurting from abusing Legilimency beyond what is probably sane. I exit the comatose Pettigrew's mind.

Enough for today…

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Pettigrew's place in the Undercroft isn't anything special. A simple cot with a cobbled together IV to continuously feed him the draught keeping him in a coma, as well as another that is feeding him a nutrition potion.

Unfortunately I do not have any automated spells for removing waste, or the applicable runic ward for it, but I am actively searching for it to learn it. My runic knowledge is kind of specific and focused, I don't have any means of cleaning up waste as of yet that wouldn't also vanish part of him. I needed something automated as I wouldn't, couldn't, be around everyday to take care of it.

And either way just no, because cleaning up Pettigrew, even if I never actually touch him, is just… No, I'd rather not.

The door to the Undercroft opens as Tonks steps through, I wave at her, trying to not look too surprised. Other than a mumbled comment of - that's cool, when she'd helped me drop off Pettigrew, ( And the absolute shit storm of spells she'd used to make him suffer using his own wand…) she'd never been back since, and never explored it fully that day, due to the injuries she'd taken and the interest she had in the new limits to her power she'd learned after seeing Pettigrew flex his.

Tonks seems a bit more cheerful today, as she looks around, eyes zeroing in on the many shelves of books, "Secret hideout is a pretty big deal for a firstie, why don't you share some of those books with big sis, eh?" She says with a light grin on her face as she saunters over and throws an arm around my shoulders. Obviously going straight for the important things in life. Ways to hurt people more.

"You only want to use me for my books." I deadpan.

Tonks grins unrepentantly, "See, there's that ickle raven brain at work!" She says, before giving me a noogie.

I hate to admit it, but I give up pretty quick. Without my wand in my hand, my ability to defend myself from her evil ways is limited. Especially now that she has begun to really experiment with her powers.

Not that I think I'd win with a wand anyway, but maybe I could at least get her back once, that way.

I straighten my ruffled hair with some annoyance, Tonks having let me go, a smug smirk on her face.

"I can't even access the books, not without the portraits opening up some sections to me, they control the wards." I grumble, still very annoyed that Ominis seems to dislike me so much.

Tonks eyes flicker to the portraits, she'd no doubt seen them her first time, and today, but this is the first time she's paid attention to them, specifically. She saunters off to peer at them, making a face when she sees the Slytherin colors. "Duh, secret hideout, of course it's the snakes behind it." She says, rolling her eyes. She taps her chin as she tilts her head, looking at the portraits. "Why two portraits though? Why not just one?"

I walk up beside her, frowning at her, "Two?" I ask, my own gaze going to the empty portrait between Sebastian and Ominis. "Don't you see the third one?"

Tonks raises an eyebrow, looking down at me, "Seeing things is not a good sign, baby raven." She says, a note of concern in her voice as she switches her gaze back to the portraits, peering concentratedly at them, before shaking her head, "Baby raven do we need to check your eyesight, there's only two." She confirms.

"Stop calling me that." I say automatically, while my mind ponders why she can't see the empty frame. It's not like I can ask Sebastian and Ominis, remembering my last attempt at getting any information on the empty portrait. "Don't worry about it, but to go back to the books, I've seen several books in there that would be suitable for you, although maybe minorly illegal."

Tonks pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "How illegal are we talking about, squirt?"

I make a meh motion with one hand, "Not like Dark Arts." Although there are some of those… "More like spell manuals that have some borderline spells that the Ministry doesn't really allow to be published anymore."

Tonks brightens up immediately, "The best kind of legal, by technicality." She almost purrs out, looking towards the books with hunger.

This girl wants to be an Auror, I can't help but to think with some exasperation. From all I've seen this year, I'm not sure she'd be a good fit.

She'd be a great fighter or infiltrator - once she really got into experimenting with her powers. But the rest of the job… I have my doubts.

Maybe Moody polishes her that well under his tutelage?

I wave dismissively to the two portraits who'd miraculously somehow kept quiet so far, "You'd have to convince them. So good luck." My smile is a bit bitter as I mutter, "Maybe you'll have better luck then me."

Tonks smirks at me, ruffling my hair teasingly, before she turns to the portraits, "Heya boys," She says flirtatiously, playing with her pink, spiky hair, "My name is Tonks, any of you boys interested in helping a girl out? I really could use some help from a snake in teaching me all the naughty things!"

My hand slaps my face in the background, is she really trying to seduce a painting?

Ominis, not surprisingly, keeps his silence. As he is the one with the most control of the Undercroft, Tonks is fighting an uphill battle. He's also blind, and an adult. So not likely to fall for her charm, if portraits even can feel anything like that.

Sebastian, who died a teenager, and is proudly a complete troll, takes up the gauntlet with glee on his face.

"I love helping, but I am a dirty snake so I don't do anything for free, so I'd need you to help me first, hottie." He says, waggling his eyebrows.

"This is ridiculous." I mutter, how did I go from plumbing the depths of a Death Eater's memories to this.

"What does a fine portrait like yourself want from little ol' me?" Tonks says, grinning widely, no doubt taking amusement from my suffering.

"Well, it's been awhile, but a cute girl rubbing her knockers all over my canvas would be a treat." Sebastian says crudely, making exaggerated grabbing motions with his hands.

The deep sigh of utter done that Ominis utters, is matched by my own, this is what I get from introducing Tonks insanity into my safe space….

Of course, Tonks makes it worse a second later. Chirping out, "Sure." While shrugging her shoulders, seemingly uncaring about the request.

"Tonks…" I say flatly, giving her a look full of judgment.

Tonks winks at me, grinning cheekily, she waves a finger in a circle at me, "Just turn around ickle baby raven."

"You can't be serious."

Tonks rolls her eyes, one hand already loosening her tie. "Lucas, it's a piece of canvas, it's like rubbing up against the wall or your blanket, it's not anything to worry about, a portrait isn't a person." She flicks her eyes toward the bookcases, "Totally worth it." She decides.

My face is red, I disavow anything to do with Tonks or Sebastian or anything with this situation, I just don't want to deal with it. I rush out of the Undercroft, to Tonks tinkling laughter chasing me on my way.

That better not work. I think as I find somewhere else to be.

It is just unfair if she gets access better than my own to the library. Since when do portraits have a libido anyways? There's something wrong there…

Now that I think of it… They don't act like any other portraits I've seen… Ugh, super, more mysteries. I want Canon and it's stupidity back!

I find a bench and slump down, knowing without a doubt, that escape or not. Tonks will tell me all about it whether I like it or not.

At least she seems a little bit… Happier than she has been lately.

Small mercies.

With how much I owe her… If doing weird shit like this makes her happy, I can't really complain about it too much.

I'll just stay out of the way until she's done… Tonks… Almost died because of me, she lost her wand because of me, I wouldn't be surprised if whatever happened with Ophelia is a butterfly of my own presence too, because why not? So I've markedly made her life worse! Just by my presence.

So yes, I will not stand in her way, no matter how weird that way is.

I owe her that.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

When all the students had returned after winter break, it had also brought with it some changes.

In a way, those changes actually succeeded in impressing me slightly. Aurors now patrolled the castle, ten in total, five working days, five working nights. A response to what happened to Ron, no doubt. Even if it's still not in the papers and therefore a mystery to my classmates. That said, everyone suspects the Weasley's were involved in something anyway, since they've all disappeared from the castle.

I wonder if Dumbledore or the Ministry had just been waiting on a good enough excuse to do this ever since the Cerberus incident? Perhaps the fact no one was injured in that incident had prevented any further action. Either way, despite my wish to sneak around exploring - and keeping captive my eunuch (Thanks Tonks, nightmares for life now!) Death Eater. I approve of the Auror presence. The more meat bodies there are between myself and Voldemort when things eventually go down - the better.

The second change, frustrating me slightly. Had been the new face at the staff table at the start of the new semester.

The reason for why I am at this moment, being dragged quite unceremoniously through the halls.

"Tonks, why are you like this?" I lightly complain, barely able to keep my feet under me as Tonks is practically flying through the halls speedily.

"You're like the biggest history nerd, why are you even complaining?" Tonks snarks at me, as we skid to a stop outside a door with a freshly placed plaque denoting it as the History of Magic classroom.

We had a new Professor in the subject. Of course just in time for me to have finished the subject to get away from Binns. Life is suffering.

At least it's confirmed that Dumbledore is still a generally nice guy to those that the rest of the world barely thinks about. Although Binns had basically been fired, Dumbledore just moved the HOM classroom, filling Binns classroom with permanently transfigured dolls that moved at a set pattern - imitating (badly) students.

But it was enough for Binns, who hardly even noticed students, or got their name right - in the first place. The ghost continued his lessons blissfully unaware that he is now obsolete.

"I passed my NEWTs… I'm probably more qualified than the professor." I mutter distastefully. Especially as it was a Dumbledore special. A student not even a year out of Hogwarts, someone he could no doubt groom to be his loyal puppet like the rest of the staff.

I recognized her, so I want to believe better. But I've become much more pessimistic the longer I've been exposed to the magical world.

Tonks knocks wildly and loudly at the door, knock! "Penny!" Knock! "Penny!" Knock! "Penny!"

"Just come in Tonks." We both hear the amused voice from beyond the door call out.

Tonks whips the door open and rushes in, dragging me behind her, but soon enough she abandons me by a desk. All so she can rush in and sweep the giggling professor off her feet, the professor having been, by the look of it - in the middle of arranging her classroom.

I look around in interest as the professor yells for Tonks to let her go, to which she only earns a loud raspberry on her neck. I recognize a lot of what I see. Maps on the walls of famous and historic locations in magical history, as well as some of famous battles. Interspersed through the room are several globes that I note with interest are from different time periods. Not much else is done to the room yet, but we did just interrupt her.

Tonks finally drops our new professor, who tries to straighten her loose golden blonde hair, a flush to her cheeks.

"Penny, this brat is my bestest friend in the world, ickle raven Lucas Greenwood." Tonks introduces me with her usual flair, before smushing her cheek with Penny's, "Lucas this is my other bestest friend who abandoned me by graduating before me - Penny Haywood."

I smile politely at the exasperated and flushed young woman. Someone I recognized from Hogwarts Mystery, although her hair was usually depicted in braids if I remembered correctly. Her open and honest face did match what I remembered. "It's nice to meet you, Professor." I say, not willing to be quite as familiar as Tonks is.

Penny pushes Tonks away, "Merlin you haven't changed, Tonks." She says fondly, a bright smile on her face, she gives me a curious look, "It's nice to meet you as well, Lucas, don't think I don't recognize the history prodigy." She says teasingly.

"Yeah, well, it figures I test out of Binns class and they hire someone to actually teach." I say, before wincing slightly, "Not that I'm disparaging a teacher."

"Oh, no, go right ahead. Binns is absolutely dreadful. I don't know how I got an O in History NEWTs," Penny says cheerfully.

I have a feeling that with her young age, good looks and cheerful disposition, most of Hogwarts already has a new favorite teacher. And I won't be in the class… Well, it's a good thing I'm a firstie and not controlled by hormones.

"You got an O because of your big brain." Tonks says, half hugging Penny, her smile perhaps the brightest I've seen since I met her.

Why had Tonks called me her only friend if she had Penny? Or had she meant only friend here? Honestly I'm not too sure I want to know more because the more I know the more confused I get. Which is opposite of how more knowledge should work!

"I'm surprised Ophelia didn't join you, where is she anyway I haven't seen her around at all?" Penny asks curiously.

I grimace as Tonks' face shutters for a moment. Right, bad subject, let's move on, ASAP!

"So, do you need a teaching assistant, Professor Haywood?" I ask hurriedly. Not out of any real want to add to my schedule, I've specifically gotten rid of classes to free up my time, but it is what popped in my mind first.

Penny is quick on the uptake, obviously having noticed how quickly Tonks' mood fell, and she answers immediately, "You're a bit too young for me to pass that by the Headmaster or the board." She says with a gentle smile, "But if you're still interested in your fifth year and beyond, I'll certainly take you up on the offer!"

"Are you going to make Beatrice do it next year?" Tonks asks, sending me a thankful look, grateful for the subject change.

Beatrice Haywood, Penny's sister and a Hufflepuff. I hadn't talked to her much, but I had seen her look particularly morose since Penny was introduced. What kid wanted their sibling in a position of authority over them.

Penny smiles, perfectly innocently, but the mischievous look in her blue eyes betrays her, "Oh, I don't know," She demurs, "Do you think she'd absolutely hate it?" She asks, lips twitching.

Tonks giggles, "There's the secretly evil Penny I know!"

"I feel like I should warn Beatrice.." I muse out loud, dryly.

"That's how you could earn yourself a detention, Mister Greenwood." Penny says sternly, looking like she's attempting to mimic McGonagall. It fails pretty quickly, as she can't quite hold back her giggles, "Oh, Merlin, I've always wanted to say that!"

As I see the two girls, a year apart in age, Professor and Prefect, giggle and joke with each other, it eases some of my worries about Tonks, but also furthers my questioning of Dumbledore's intentions. While I don't doubt Penny is capable in the subject, at least enough to pass muster while she learns the ropes - it's still suspect to hire a recent graduate back as a Professor.

With the obvious totally not an Auror that replaced Hagrid as the groundskeeper and now this hire, it's really starting to feel like things are changing too much, too quickly.

Well, I'm staying out of it anyway. Studying, exploring the castle for secrets, hanging with my friends, which I've neglected, and of course practicing my Legilimency so I can fix my mind.

Those are the only things I need to worry about.

The rest of the weirdness at Hogwarts is not my problem.

Dumbledore is being proactive, there's Aurors around. They can handle it.

Probably.

I mean….

No, not my problem!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Two weeks into the new semester.

"Alright, I get why you want to do this. I do, but still, I'll ask one last time, are you sure?" I ask the determined cute little faces of the trio in front of me.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and blowing my mind - Brian Lupin.

Yeah, apparently Remus Lupin got over himself in this world, and of course named his kid after Dumbledore's least weird name. I really need to start paying more attention to my yearmates, what else have I missed?

After Ron… Apparently the quiet bookish kid had been some sort of kid therapist, (aka read a lot of self help books) offering support for the golden twosome at that point - which in only a few weeks turned it into a new trio.

And now here they were, asking me for help to learn how to duel.

Harry Potter wanting to learn how to fight already could only be good.

Hermione Granger wanting to learn as well… Surprising. But I suppose the Ron thing had changed a lot of things.

The story had finally blown up, the details all over the Daily Prophet. The whole wizarding world reeling from the atrocities committed to a pureblood family - however removed from society they were.

Which… Unfortunately is already helping the same people that passed that stupid muggleborn law, as for some reason the only 'suspect' that is being theorized about in the Prophet - is an unknown muggleborn assailant having it out for purebloods. Which is bullshit because I know they can test blood so they know it wasn't a muggleborn that cuckolded Arthur.

I smell Malfoy's hand in it. And worst of all is that I can ruin the plot immediately by revealing Pettigrew. Except I can't. Because I need him.

Ugh, everything sucks, I want a refund. Is what I want to say… Except you know… Magic!

The trio has exchanged glances filled with determination, I sigh, bringing my wand to my hand, "Alright, this first lesson will be simple spell practice, so this classroom is fine. I need to see where all three of you are at and how quick you can learn." I let out a breath, at least I have plenty of free time now…

"I have another room we can actually duel in, a room that heals battle damage if we get a bit rough." I continue, Harry, the one who'd felt Ron's case the keenest, listens attentively with a level of steel in his eyes I doubt his Canon self had until fifth or sixth year.

"Just beware," I warn, "In that room we might draw fire at any time from a surprise beast attack." I am half serious, because Tonks definitely would joyfully attack us if she walks in on us practicing. But beast was perhaps a bad description.

But these are firsties. I mean real firsties. I don't want to tell them they'll be subjected to a crazy person.

They deserve to find out on their own.

Like I did.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Ophelia came to a stop, a small piece of a parchment flying into her hand, as usual, without any sign of who sent it.

She quickly stepped away into a hidden passageway - no snoopy portraits or students to worry about.

The last time she'd received one of these missives - she'd been instructed to follow Harry Potter around and report back everything he did and her best guesses as to his overall demeanor and thoughts of recent events. A task she had been in the middle of performing when the parchment arrived.

No doubt whatever Harry and his friends were doing with Lucas Greenwood would be of interest, she still disliked the boy, but she couldn't deny that almost anything he did seemed to achieve something.

She opens the parchment, verifying with a quick spell that it belongs to the same sender as the last one. The role she'd taken on on Dumbledore's request, and the tutelage she'd been receiving from Snape - had obviously worked somehow. Because someone within the castle was giving her these tasks, someone with a large interest in Harry Potter.

She froze as she read the text. Double and triple checking.

She'd already gone far for her deception. Even…. Tonks…. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Tonight, leave Hogwarts behind, you are no longer a child, you are one of the initiated, one of those seeking greatness, I have seen your past, your present - go now to your future.

Instructions of where to go followed.

Ophelia felt hollow.

It's starting….

It's… Him…

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Later that night.

She stood there silently, wishing she could just…

She wished for too many things, unobtainable things. She wasn't supposed to be here. She had cut ties for a reason. For the safety of the one person she cared for. For her own sanity. The hardest thing she'd ever done.. she wasn't supposed to be here!

She didn't want to cut ties, didn't want to… Harm her, hurt her. Merlin did she ever struggle with the decision. The only good thing to have ever happened in her life, and she cut it away, breaking her own heart, but more importantly shattering Tonks'.

For her own good… But it tasted like nothing but ashes, it was an excuse that did nothing to lessen the harm she did or would do.

Ophelia watched the slow rising of Tonks' chest as she slept peacefully in her bed in the Hufflepuff seventh year female dorms. Her face was more beautiful than ever without the hardships of waking life to mar it. Without the walls she'd built up, just like Ophelia, to survive a cruel unfair world.

Hogwarts was their home, but it was also in a way their cage. They couldn't evolve. Stuck in the place of their happiest moments… And their worst.

Slowly, fighting back tears, she started removing the charms and jeweled butterflies in her hair. Each painstakingly removed with great care, each removing a bit of her heart with it. Tonks had made them for her. Tonks had lovingly crafted each one with her in mind. Had managed to infuse permanence in the charms, all kinds of useful spells for Ophelia's protection woven in. Tonks' way of helping her when she had no way of protecting herself at home during the summer.

Ophelia had never told her just how much that meant. Had never told her enough… How much she meant to her. Had never treated her right. She was such a fuck up.

She didn't deserve her. She never had. Too caustic, too bitter. Too pessimistic. She'd only succeeded in dragging Tonks down with her, instead of doing the selfless thing, letting her go, watching her soar without Ophelia holding her down.

And now… She would be leaving her… In the worst possible way. Not letting her soar, leaving Ophelia behind for greater things, instead hurting her, making her cry, being the one that left. Abandoned her. Her best friend. Her love.

Morgana damn me, my family should have drowned me at birth. She thought bitterly. She'd only succeeded in making Tonks' life worse. What a way to repay her for saving Ophelia's soul, her heart, her entire being, just by being there.

A waste, since she'd be damning her soul now.

Tears finally fell as Ophelia slowly put each charm on Tonks' nightstand. Gently and with utmost care. It was… Better this way. She wouldn't understand. How could she? But at least… She wouldn't be blindsided. She'd see them when she woke up… And she'd know.

Gently, making sure she didn't wake her, Ophelia bent down and kissed Tonks' lips, with featherlight care, one last time.

Then, she swiftly exited the room, grabbing her bag that held all her worldly possessions. She took one last look at the room that had been her home for the last seven years. Her eyes strayed to Tonks' bed, one last time. Eyes shiny with tears as she forcibly pulled herself together.

She closed the door quietly, taking a deep breath to try and regain some modicum of poise. Before she could break down in a sobbing mess.

Then she left the Hufflepuff dorms, for the last time.

Snape met her by the gates, because of course he wouldn't let her go that easily. Ophelia wanted more than anything to blast the man. She'd admired his genius, but after a few months under his tutelage, her hatred for him burned brighter than almost anything under the sun.

His cruelty had known almost no bounds in preparing her Occlumency and proficiency in the Dark Arts.

"You can't stop me." She said haughtily, a spell having taken care of her red eyes long before she exited Hogwarts. Where she was going, tears would do her no good. She'd shed the last of her humanity in that dorm room, she didn't need it anymore.

Snape was barely visible in the darkness, his profile stood out in relief against the one lantern lighting the area around the gate. His face was completely blank and devoid of emotion as he stepped forward.

Ophelia knew for a fact the man was never without emotion. She'd never seen someone so filled with hate, self loathing and deep all encompassing despair before. Other than herself of course.

"You can still back out. We will not force you to do this." Snape said without inflection. Showing no sign of caring one way or another. Of course, only the fact he couldn't continue his job as a spy had put her in the position of being his replacement. Ophelia bet the man held some bitterness over it, although failure was something that she had plenty of familiarity with as well, so who was she to judge? She couldn't afford to fail again, not now, not ever again.

Ophelia laughed bitterly, "Now? Now you want to ask me to withdraw? Once I've already gotten his attention?" She gripped her wand tightly, her knuckles whitening. "I'm already damned, leave me be to go do what I can!" She snapped, not impressed with the sudden appearance of a choice.

Snape almost looked sorry, but it might have been a trick of the light, Ophelia blinked, and there was nothing but impassive coal black eyes meeting her gaze. The potions professor nodding slowly, as if he'd expected nothing less.

"You've been the best student I ever had. Your mind should withstand significant probing from even the Dark Lord. Do not lower your guard. Ever. They are not your friends, they do not care, their loyalty is a farce meant to ensnare you deeper, do not falter. Remember why you're doing this." Snape said with sudden fierceness, opening the gate with a wave of his hand.

Ophelia strode through without a look back.

…

"I'm sorry." Was whispered out, almost impossible to hear over the wind.

No one was there to hear it.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Ophelia strode down a dirty alleyway, garbage strewn everywhere, a flea bitten mutt scrounging amongst the refuse, scurrying off as she approached.

Within minutes she arrived at the dilapidated building she'd been told to seek out in the note she'd received.

Ophelia didn't bother knocking when she arrived, blasting the door in front of her and stepping through the remains, a haughty look on her face, eyes ice cold as she took in the dirty and dilapidated state of the interior. Snape had impressed upon her that displays of power were the most likely way to ensure her safety in the near future.

Once she was in, fully in. Power did not matter quite as much as intelligence and skill did, but for a beginner, power was a way to move yourself forward in consideration by quite a lot.

The location she had arrived at was a rundown bar in a small town not far from Hogsmeade, one obviously out of business from the state of the building. The wizard she was sent to meet was squatting in it, how undignified, she thought with distaste.

The walls were covered with enough dust and muck that she couldn't tell what their original color was, and the floor was covered with straw, like a tavern out of the middle ages, and just about as disease ridden, no doubt. Hardly any furniture in the place looked in good condition and everything but one table and the stairwell leading to the second floor - was covered in thick layers of dust.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were a wizard? Are you not capable of doing something about the state of our surroundings?" She drawled sarcastically, addressing the only man in the room. Even a fifth year Hogwarts student would be able to improve the locale significantly, which didn't say much about the man's skill in her mind.

Casually the man stood, attempting to loom over her, trying to impress a level of dominance that quite frankly, he didn't possess, puffing himself up to try and intimidate her. His smarmy smile was quite ruined by his yellowed teeth, and as he walked forward the few steps to stand in front of her, nothing could hide the coldness of his dead eyes that showed that she was dealing with a murderer. Nothing she hadn't expected, although it was still disconcerting to have a man such as that give her a greedy once over with obvious lust.

She raised her chin, looking down on the man even if he was taller than her, as he came to stand before her.

"You've been given to me to prove you are a worthy and loyal adherent to the cause." The smarmy man said with what he no doubt thought was suaveness. The man stroked his small oily beard, as he observed her with hunger. Ophelia had no idea how long the man had been hanging around the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but he'd obviously developed an… Appetite.

She wondered briefly if he'd been behind the disappearance of muggleborn in Hogsmeade, she'd only known about it because her favorite tea shop had closed down, the sweetheart owners disappearing without a trace at the beginning of the school year. Darkly, she thought it likely. At least, it made it less likely she'd have to disappear someone she knew from Hogsmeade, if her favorites were already dead.

Not a nice thought, but she was all done with nice.

Ophelia sneered at him, "I am loyal or I wouldn't be here, and I have the requisite skills to be useful, do not look down on me." She warned stiffly, ready to defend herself. She was willing to go undercover to ensure Tonks' would never face one of these monsters once she became an Auror. Protect her from the darkness by gathering the intelligence necessary to bring them down before a war would start again. But she wouldn't allow herself to be raped.

She'd seen the aftermath of that…

Never again.

What did it matter if the perpetrator got sent to Azkaban for it - and Ophelia had made sure of that! Even if she'd had to be talked out of killing him by Tonks… When the victim would have to live with it for the rest of their life it hardly seemed a fair trade for the bastard to live. Ophelia would not allow it to happen to her as well.

She would rather die!

"You may have heard of me, dear! Igor Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang." Igor said with a chilled smile, completely ignoring Ophelia's words, and either wilfully ignorant, or too stupid to not see her as a threat.

"Surely not anymore… They usually don't allow headmaster's to hunker in shacks, away from their school all year?" Ophelia fired back snidely, teeth bared, mind whirling at the identity of the Death Eater in front of her.

She might be dropped further in the deep end than she thought if she was to work with a known, practically unmasked Death Eater… Was that why he wasn't masked? Because so many believed him to be a Death Eater already? And if what the Slytherin contingent at Hogwarts had been gossiping about all year was true… A possible traitor. That made things dicey for her. Was this a test?

Would she pass by going along? Or by treating the man like the possible traitor he could be?

Igor Karkaroff glared at her with red spots appearing on his cheeks in either embarrassment or rage, "Girl, you're new, I'm a sworn in and loyal Death Eater, I'd advise you to think about your tone." He growled, a calculating smirk appearing on his face, "Kneel, and put that mouth to good use, and I might still allow you to follow our Lord's will."

Ophelia didn't for a moment question her next action. She'd trained with Snape for just this kind of situation, for how the Death Eaters acted with each other, especially when challenged. At least when one wasn't dealing with the inner circle, whose words were law.

"Crucio!" She snapped out, filled with enough hate and a wish to cause pain to achieve the spell with ease. Karkaroff, having no way to dodge from such close quarters, only had time for his eyes to widen, before the red crackling spell impacted him almost immediately, the Durmstrang headmaster howling in agony as he fell to the floor, spasming wildly.

Ophelia had practiced the spell on plenty of animals in the room of requirements under Snape's tutelage. Of the three unforgivables. Crucio was the one she'd excelled at the best.

Ophelia stood over the sniveling worm, smiling coldly, while on the inside she let the small girl who'd once wanted to do nothing but grow flowers for the rest of her life, die. The woman that had been trained by Snape in the dark arts took over. And she hit Karkaroff with the unforgivable again just for good measure. She had to make this look good. Like she belonged naturally to these kinds of people.

To, in Snape's words. Emulate Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I am here to be useful to him, not you, worm! You're here no doubt because you have disappointed him. Why else would you be out of your cushy office?" She put her heeled boot on his chest, her wand aimed right between his eyes. Part of her enjoying the abject look of fear and hatred he was shooting her.

"Let's try this again. I am here to be of assistance. What can I do to assist you?" Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the squirming headmaster. Or likely former headmaster at this point, "And watch what you say… I am not your servant…"

Snape had said to establish that she wasn't someone to mess with.

She hadn't expected to start so early. But this man was precisely the kind of man she couldn't stand.

Cowardly, misogynistic, a person that only picked on the weak.

He'd find something different with her.

Dumbledore had convinced her to sell her soul, she might as well go all in…

I'm sorry… Tonks…

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The next day, Headmaster's office, Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry. To me it seems you're telling me you talked a seventeen year old girl into going undercover with the Death Eaters." Rufus Scrimgeour said flatly.

"In fact you trained her for it for months…. Without informing us…"

They were holding their now monthly status update meeting in the headmaster's office. Ensuring information was shared freely was necessary with such a risky trap they'd set - the DMLE, DOM and Order of Phoenix working together on the project. Rufus and Amelia knew that if they didn't hound Albus constantly, then said information would never leave the old man's mouth. They'd managed to get an Auror in as the new groundskeeper, but that was more for another set of eyes on the suspected parties than as a lever against Albus.

Even if of course he was also reporting back on Albus, just so the old man knew that they were watching.

Rufus had been sworn in on the little collab between the DMLE, the DOM and Albus, and he had a sinking feeling Amelia had done it just so Rufus could now be the one going to meetings exactly like this one.

It was bad enough he owed her five years worth of drinks since she somehow got an Auror in as the new groundskeeper… Rufus should know by now not to bet against her.

And with everything happening lately, they'd been able to convince Cornelius to allow an Auror contingent to openly serve at Hogwarts. Which again, Amelia had somehow pulled off, making Rufus owe her even more. Enough that he was begrudgingly not raising too much of a stink about having to look Snape in the eye once a month while not being allowed to hex him in the face.

Apparently they'd been too late anyway for all that, if this had been going on behind their backs for months… Rufus dearly wished they didn't need the headmaster, because right now a few curses he knew that were mostly legal would feel really good to let loose. He'd done some morally questionable things in the war, most of them had, it was sometimes necessary, but this was beyond any of that.

And after whatever the hell happened to the Weasley boys - they still had the nerve to risk another student.

Dumbledore and Snape, the only two other people in the office with him, kept their silence. Neither one looked like they wanted to be the one to explain themselves to the Head Auror.

Rufus did not approve of allowing that Death Eater in with them for these meetings, or with sharing information with him for that matter. But Dumbledore refused to play ball without his trusted associate, so here they were. All eating shit in the name of cooperation.

"What were you thinking!?" Rufus growled, half of a mind to grab his wand and hex the stupid out of them both anyway, regardless of consequences. "We lost five people to this stupidity during the war…" His eyes met Dumbledore's and he glared at the old man who was calmly assessing him, "And I know you lost two of your own trying to do the same."

There's a reason they had so few successes in infiltrating the Death Eaters. Rufus wondered what in Merlin's name they expected a slip of a girl to achieve that full blown Aurors and Hit Wizards hadn't.

The less said about Dumbledore using civilians to try and infiltrate a terrorist organization the better.

They had not died well. Nor quickly.

"She was uniquely situated to take advantage of the fluid situation the Death Eaters are in with Lord Voldemort on the move again." Dumbledore said calmly, hands serenely folded in front of him.

Snape took over, sitting slightly behind and to the right of the headmaster, "She has the pedigree, the skill and the necessary moral flexibility to appeal to him." He said quietly, almost downcast. "Her family situation… Was ideal for giving her an excuse for seeking an outlet, and an out in general."

If Rufus didn't know the bastard didn't possess a heart, he'd say the man looked saddened over the whole situation. Either way it didn't matter, Rufus was so hopping mad he could almost feel the tip of his beard catch aflame from sympathetic magic. "If you knew she had a horrid family life then you do something about it!" He roared, incensed. "You don't take advantage of a student and send her to certain death!" If she had a bad home life… That just made it all worse, they'd taken advantage of an unstable girl.

"She is seventeen, she's legally an adult." Albus said, sagging slightly in his throne-like chair, looking like the decision weighed on him, Rufus couldn't care less, he'd still gone ahead and done it. "And whatever you believe of me right now Rufus. She was not blackmailed or pressured into this, I spoke to her about the possibility and she immediately volunteered."

Rufus didn't bother replying, there was no real way to get Dumbledore to understand that a private meeting with him asking a student for help, was no different than pressuring them. Few want to say no to the great Albus Dumbledore. Especially when they're young and dumb and believe themselves immortal. The girl hadn't taken her NEWTs yet, so he wasn't going to go along with Albus claiming her an adult. "We will circle back to this." He growled, eye twitching, "Amelia will want a word." Rufus knew without a doubt that Amelia would blister Albus hide for this, even if due to necessity, their hands were tied in doing something about it. They needed Dumbledore.

Rufus was furious, but they only had so long for these meetings. If they ran too long, anyone watching might wonder why exactly the Head Auror was sticking around so long - and without a doubt, people within Hogwarts were watching. And of course getting Albus to leave Hogwarts for a meeting instead was useless, unless it was Wizengamot business and half the time even that was like pulling teeth - not worth the fight.

"The trap? Is it set?" He asked brusquely instead, not intending to waste any more time, the kneazle was out of the bag, he couldn't put it back in. The girl was for better or worse, already involved. And likely already doomed.

Rufus wondered briefly how many Hogwarts students deaths he'd have on his conscience in the end. If the trap worked… He hated to even think about it. But it would be worth it.

"It's already finished. I had time over the holidays." Albus said, the sad smile on his face showing Rufus the old man was of the same mind as he was. Having the trap at Hogwarts was the only way to guarantee it would work as intended, but the risks…. They were gambling with student safety here… If they could guarantee it literally any other way, Rufus and Amelia wouldn't have gone along with this.

"We don't even know that the Dark Lord is here." Snape muttered, ever willing to play the devil's advocate.

"He is." Albus said with certainty, "He would not pass up a chance such as this."

Rufus grunted with displeasure, "He better be. If all of this, us endangering students, making Hogwarts into Dark Lord bait… If it all ends with failure… We all will face Azkaban at the very least. And we'll deserve it."

Rufus wasn't sure they didn't deserve it anyway. But if that happened. He'd accept his punishment without a quibble. As long as they succeeded it would be worth it. It had to be. They could not fight another war. They would win, he held no doubt. But the cost in lives would be catastrophic for the magical world.

"I have faith that we will prevail." Albus said with a genial smile. Rufus and Snape snorted with disbelief at the same time, both men glaring at each other after.

"You still think it's Quirell?" Rufus asked, just wanting the meeting over and done with so he could go have a drink. He'd need one before Informing Amelia about the girl and that it had been hidden from them all year.

"Perhaps." Albus said, noncommittally.

Snape shook his head, muttering to himself too low for Rufus to pick up on the words. But it didn't sound complimentary.

Rufus was so tired of these two. Nothing could ever be straightforward with them. His hackles raised already, he glared at Dumbledore.

"I want a bloody straight answer. No more previcarations out of either of you!" He growled.

Finally, Dumbledore seemed to dispense with the games, filling Rufus in on everything he believed.

Other than the hiccup with the student they'd sent to bloody well die, it seemed they had it well in hand…

Thank Merlin for something going right, Rufus thought acerbically.

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When Rufus finally left, after going on another tirade first about them not sharing information on an equal level in their partnership, Dumbledore and Snape enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, both men lost in thought.

At least the Head Auror had begrudgingly agreed to work to keep this whole affair out of the Daily Prophet, far as anyone at Hogwarts and beyond will know, she was withdrawn for personal study for her NEWTs. Dumbledore would deal with keeping the parents silenced. With what he knew about them since bringing Miss Onai onboard… He would for once, not feel bad about blackmailing someone.

"He's right, we shouldn't have done it." Snape finally said, looking like he was reluctant to speak out, like he had to drag the words out.

Dumbledore grimaced slightly, eyes dulling in sadness at the sacrifice, however willing it had been, by Ophelia Onai. "Tell me this, Severus. You've been in touch with Tom's mind more than anyone during your time with him - would Tom ever suspect me of sending a student to infiltrate his people, for me to be that cruel?"

Snape didn't even have to pause in thought, answering immediately, with defeat, "No, he would not think you capable of it." He agreed.

Dumbledore smiled grimly, "I did not think myself capable either. If Miss Onai hadn't been so eager to jump at the chance, I doubt I'd have been able to push forward on it after I suggested it in the summer." He admitted guiltily, slumping slightly.

"It's war." Snape said succinctly.

They both sat in silence, the sky outside darkening as evening turned into night.

"War makes monsters out of all of us." Dumbledore said softly, Snape not replying, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Notably he did not speak up to disagree.

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They're not yours.

Those words echoed in Arthur Weasley's head as he stood in the dim light of the burrow, watching the children sleep. The youngest set of twins, Fabian and Gideon. The children that the authorities said were not his.

After Ron had been turned into the Professors, one day at Hogwarts, transfigured as a rat, memories of the last few years mostly missing, the rest scrambled, as one unspeakable had put it - like someone had made scrambled eggs with his brain. They'd all been put under the lens. The Unspeakables and the Auror's investigated the whole family, just as a precaution they had said. They didn't expect to find something. Neither had Arthur.

How naive he'd been. How safe he'd thought they were. Now Bill and Charlie had both moved back home to help with the family, giving up their careers in this crisis, and Fred and George floated around the house, almost scared to even make noise, shells of their normal boisterous selves as they suffered through the aftermath of the findings.

Ginny barely left her room anymore. Too heartbroken to step out and interact with Ron, a Ron that hardly even recognized her anymore, not as she was.

Without Bill and Charlie returning… Arthur wasn't sure he'd have been able to handle it. The hits came in too fast, one after another.

Arthur had never felt as such a failure of man as he did now. He'd always known his fascination with muggles was limiting him at the Ministry, which in turn limited his family, but he'd believed the love they held for each other made up for any perceived lack of money.

Now he couldn't help but think that his long hours at the Ministry lay behind his family's misfortune. How he'd somehow missed… Everything.

How someone had targeted his family, and he hadn't even noticed… They didn't even know who. Or if they'd be back.

The Burrow was under Auror guard at the moment, just in case. Even Dumbledore had offered to send some of the old guard to hang around once the Aurors eventually left.

Dumbledore… Arthur knew it was wrong of him to feel bitterness towards the headmaster. He himself had not noticed anything wrong with Ron or Percy, so how could he expect the headmaster to have noticed. He wasn't omnipotent. Yet the feeling lingered, Dumbledore was supposed to be better.

Ron would likely never be able to go to Hogwarts now, not without serious help, which Arthur couldn't, to his chagrin, afford. His precious boy had regressed in age by almost half his age, and he wasn't overly stable at that either. His memories all over the place. He hadn't even recognized Charlie for the first few days, to his older son's horror.

If that was it, the horror would be devastating enough, they could attempt to make something out of it. But it didn't end there. Merlin, how much did I miss! He thought with despair. Tears gathering behind his glasses.

Percy… Arthur closed his eyes, holding back the tears with great effort, not wanting to wake the twins. If Ron had regressed in age… Percy was practically not a person anymore according to the experts. The Unspeakables had taken one look in his mind, and had bundled him off. Arthur hadn't seen him since. The sympathetic Auror that explained it all to him, said it was unlikely he'd ever return to normality, having been obliviated so often and to such a point, that he'd suffered a death of personality.

Whatever personality that had been rebuilt to enough of a standard he'd been able to continue to function at Hogwarts and at home, wasn't his son. Not anymore.

He'd let Percy die. And hadn't even noticed. He was the worst father ever.

Arthur just wanted his son back. But for now, the Unspeakables had refused. And Arthur could only fight so much, with Ron and everything else to worry about. It didn't mean he'd give up. Never again. But he'd have to find another avenue.

He sank back against the wall, feeling sick to his stomach. His twins… They'd done tests, and the results had come back as them having another father. He didn't believe even for a second that Molly had cheated on him. He'd seen the sick devastated look on her face when she'd found out.

Two of his children weren't his… And it meant Molly… His Mollywobbles… Had been raped and obliviated. Why had he never questioned how she got pregnant again when they'd both decided they wouldn't have anymore children?

How much had he missed? How had he let this happen? Why hadn't he done something? Asked more questions?

He heard her before she came in, the creaky step on the stairs announcing her coming arrival. He could barely look at her. He'd failed her too.

"Arthur, come to bed. You have a long day with the meeting with the Minister and everything tomorrow." Molly said quietly, looking pale and gaunt, similarly to what Arthur looked like. No one at the Burrow was doing great at the moment.

Arthur would be trying to get Percy back by pushing against Fudge. He had to try. It was his son! He put a hand against the wall and gingerly straightened himself up. The exhaustion in his frame was beginning to become his new normal. Sleep eluded him, he kept fearing he'd wake up to find another family member destroyed.

He stepped forward and kissed the foreheads of his sleeping wonders. Thanking Merlin and anyone that would listen that they were safe, at least. They might not have his blood. But they were Weasley's, they were his. He wouldn't let any more harm come to his family.

Molly sniffled in the background. Arthur quickly stepped to her as she practically fell into his arms, crying silently so she wouldn't wake them.

If Arthur ever found the monster that had done this to his family. He'd be able to fire his first ever unforgivable.

His eyes were hard even as he held his wife and inwardly planned for his meeting with the Minister.

And he wouldn't even hesitate to fire it if given the opportunity, he knew.

He just needed one chance. Just one second with the bastard who did this.

Arthur Weasley would not fail his family again.

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Author's note:

No, Snape is not suddenly a nice guy. Even an ass like him can feel bad from time to time.

So, finally see some reasoning behind why Ophelia is bitchy as all hell. Unlike with a protagonist like Harry Potter, when people have really shitty lives all the way through childhood to adult years - they don't usually come out of it like saints. Different people react differently of course, and plenty of people come out of it fine somehow, but obviously in this case. Ophelia did not come out of it fine.

Ophelia is now out of the picture for the most part and will only show up in rare occasions, she'll be deep undercover.

Dumbledore, like in Canon, has a trap for Voldemort. Unlike there, here he is cooperating with the DMLE, and fairly confident his trap will succeed.

He just doesn't know if Voldemort is possessing someone in Hogwarts or working through agents. Not for sure, which is why they're kind of in a holding pattern at the moment, because once they've sprung the trap it's done with. So it would really suck if it wasn't Voldemort in it.

Added some Weasley's, figured with the horror of the last chapter, people might want to find out a little about what's going on with them. Not that it's really good news per say.

Maybe the details just make it even worse. Things are a bit grim right now, but it won't all always be bad. That said, this is a pretty dark fic by necessity of a lot of the magical world being filled with horrible things and horrible people. But the good guys will get their wins in too.

Gotten accused of it being a bit too dark and too many wins for the bad guys - but really Lucas has done pretty well for himself too. And considering Canon is literally an entire year of Harry being dumped on by the entire school - pretty much every year - then add in ministry and etc eventually - it's not like HP is usually all roses.

Hey, at least no one's been really trying to kill Harry Potter all year, so really, he's having a decent year all things considered. The Cerberus thing doesn't really count, with all the teachers ( especially Dumbledore) in there, he was never going to get even a scratch.

No offense to Ron because I actually like him… (What a way I show it, huh?) But Harry with Hermione and a studious other buddy might grow a bit faster too, so he's really having a way better time than Canon all things considered.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

Was going to be out on the weekend, but Monday morning is almost Sunday, right?

Here comes the next chapter, not as dark as I notice some of you are a bit freaked out by how scary the Death Eaters are.

Pettigrew is on ice now, so we go back to normal scariness via Quirrell instead, while Lucas mobilizes his friends and starts looking for ways to fight back.

Just because Lucas can't outduel a Death eater doesn't mean he doesn't have other ways to inconvenience them.

Hope you enjoy.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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"Oh… Sorry, didn't see you there."

I hear the insincerity in the voice as the 4th year Gryffindor student drifts off down the hallway, my shoulder smarting from the rough shove, my books scattered across the floor. He had timed that shove perfectly to knock my book bag off.

Around me, many students watch, either in obvious displeasure, or in satisfaction, but none help - the situation repeating itself over and over since the winter holidays ended.

If my friends were around they'd assist me in a heartbeat, but with us having very different schedules now, I didn't often walk to class with them.

Being muggleborn, I would have expected this kind of action from the purebloods… But it's the purebloods who are dissatisfied with my treatment, although they refuse to also step in for a mudblood in the end… At least the Hufflepuffs are showing solidarity for the most part, even so, people like Justin Finch-Fletchley have distanced themselves from me.

It's the Muggleborn who's taken to showing their displeasure with me. Often physically. I admit I probably haven't helped the situation by not being overly… Humble - during my time at Hogwarts so far.

My skill with a wand deters many from trying anything magical at least. Luckily the fifth years and up do not overly participate, being busier with their studies. I likely would not scare those off with my wand work - I'm still a firstie in the end.

All the knowledge in the world won't make up for lesser physical ability and stamina as well as less power and oomph in my spells.

That damn law…. I think, gritting my teeth as I wave my wand, muttering a spell under my breath, my books flying back up, organizing themselves as I shove them into my book bag.

At first, I hadn't even noticed. Too focused on my Legilimency practice on Pettigrew, my training with Tonks and the trio, Hermione had never said a word… So I didn't think anything of it.

Although it's quite possible in her case that she just figured I'd already know.

With me taking less classes and generally being busy during lunch hours - I didn't roam around the halls often enough to immediately run into the issue. Now… Now people came looking for me.

The muggleborn students had seen the many varied accounts and articles published all through the holiday, articles praising my contribution to getting the muggleborn law off the ground. For finding a common ground between the dark faction and everyone else.

A load of bull, but it's not like the general populace is that bright when it comes to media spins. The Daily Prophet speaks, and people listen.

Needless to say, not many muggleborn were impressed with me now that the full scope of what was happening was being laid out bare in the media.

I can't even blame them.

This whole thing is messed up, and is a foot in the door for the pureblood movement to start controlling the lesser people. I agree that more education for muggleborn could be useful - but how in Merlin's name had anyone allowed the likes of Malfoy and his ilk to control the way to carry the law out.

Some kind of deal must have been struck. No way the neutrals and the light factions were that stupid.

My name is tied to it all, and I'm in reach, so I don't really blame the other students for their reaction. Who else are they going to take it out on? Malfoy? That's just a bad idea in general - if Snape didn't swoop down on them like a Dementor then Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy surely would. So, no, I don't blame them. But I'm getting very tired of this bullshite.

I need to do something about this. I can't let it fester further, and I can't let the purebloods just use my name to pervert magical Britain further.

Mostly I'm just Morgana damn tired of everyone fucking messing with me in every damn way.

"Mister Greenwood? Are you alright?" A concerned voice breaks through the silence - and my brooding.

I startle, having been lost in thought, just standing in the hallway, the hallways I now notice have emptied of students. I give the young professor a sheepish look, "Sorry Professor Haywood, I'm fine, just lost in thought." I assure her.

With me having less classes now, this is a completely free period for me, hence why the books I'm carrying around are not on anything from my classes - it's all independent research material. I had been on the way from the library to the Undercroft when the Gryffindor student had 'accidentally' knocked into me.

Penny Haywood, the new History of Magic professor, hums almost melodically, laying a hand on my shoulder, gently steering me as she speaks cheerfully, "Well, I happen to know you don't have a class right now, Mister Greenwood, you should join me for tea, just to soothe a newcomers worries, you understand." She winks at me, a playful quirk to her lips.

"Yes, Professor." I say, a small sigh escaping, the hand on my shoulder beyond anything else telling me this isn't an offer, it's a request.

For such a cheerful and open person, she's not one to take no for an answer, or one to hold back her opinions or what she believes in. She's immediately practically adopted all the younger years and has been hovering over us since she started.

In essence, she's such a Hufflepuff, it's annoying but sweet. I just wish I wasn't one of her projects.

Professor Haywood steers me towards her office, one I had helped decorate over the last week or so under Tonks helpful supervision, as she caught up with her old friend and did none of the work, using me as slave labor. I admit I quite enjoy discussions of history and politics with the bright cheerful young professor, so I didn't mind too much in the end.

But I have some issue with her unbridled curiosity and annoying ability to read any social situations immediately - and furthermore how she never fails to involve herself and assist in them.

Good for the Hogwarts students really. Having a professor that goes above and beyond to resolve minor bullying or personal drama before it gets too bad is all for the good. Not to say the other Professors are bad at it, necessarily. They are just much more distant, and less likely to pick up on teenage drama undercurrents then a professor who only just graduated.

McGonagall isn't really up to par on the lingo nowadays, even less on what exactly students can manage to get up to while she is distracted. (Which is always)

It's just annoying when I'm apparently Professor Haywoods pet project in this. I'm not even hurt. This so-called bullying is a minor annoyance as far as I'm concerned, I'm not actually eleven, I can handle mean words and shoves. I doubt it will escalate much further - too many eyes on everything with the Aurors in the castle.

If anything she should be working on Tonks… I've so far lucked out in the fact that she hasn't been nearby when anything has happened - and her own social circle is so small she hasn't heard anything. With Ophelia apparently taking off for 'family reasons' (I don't believe it for a second) she's been teetering on the edge.

I never know from day to day what kind of mood I'll see her in.

Professor Haywood is helping there. But she could help more, if she got off my back!

"Don't you have class, Professor?" I ask, hoping to cut this short, I have too many things to do, and as always, too little time, even with pretty much half my course work out of the picture.

"I believe I've asked you to call me Penny when we're alone, Mister Greenwood." She says, pouting slightly at me, her hand squeezing my shoulder reassuringly as we enter her office. "As for my class, it so happens that it's my seventh year class right now, in fact."

"I'll leave you to that then… Penny…" I say, as I take a step back, feeling just a little bit weird, being on a first name basis with a Professor, for all that she's barely out of Hogwarts herself - she's still part of the faculty.

"No need, it's a very simple class to teach, considering I have only two seventh year students and they're working on a project that makes class time nothing more than self study at the moment." Penny tells me, still just as cheerfully, nothing much seems to phase her or pierce her optimistic and cheerful attitude.

Still… Compared to Binns? No contest.

She guides me to a chair in front of her desk, the surface neatly organized but still absolutely full of manuscripts and scrolls, definitely ancient ones by the look of it. She seats herself in her high backed padded and suspiciously muggle looking chair, and with the flick of a wand, her tea set levitates over. "The usual I presume, Mister Greenwood?"

"Yes Professor." I barely hold back another sigh, if I had to call her by her first name, the least she could do is reciprocate, but apparently she is trying to be proper or something. I fail to see how me calling an adult and professor by their first name is any more proper, but there's not much point in arguing with Professor Haywood.

She's frightfully good at getting what she wants I've noticed. She's practically got the rest of the faculty wrapped around her finger already. Snape even answered a question from her at dinner the other day and he didn't even sneer once!

Her smile turns amused, her long blonde hair rustling as she shakes her head, tsking quietly at my paranoia as I utilize my limited arsenal of detection spells on the tea I'm offered. She might be nice, but…

I am not taking any more chances with a professor. Friends with Tonks or not. After Quirrell… After how Pettigrew turned out, I can't trust anyone to not be a hidden badass or have a plot going on.

After all… Friends with Tonks or not. It is suspicious to me that she's taken such an outsized interest in me in particular.

"You remind me of one of my classmates, you know?" She says wistfully, "She got into adventures everywhere she turned, and she was slightly paranoid as well, after a fashion." She sighed, tapping a long fingernail on the rim of her own teacup, her bright eyes dimming slightly, "It's not a good way to live, Mister Greenwood, seeing threats everywhere." She warns solemnly, looking at me with compassionate eyes, her features softening, "It led her to a bad… Well… Never mind that, we're here to talk about you!"

"There's really nothing to talk about. I've got it handled." I say firmly, taking a small sip of the excellent tea, more to be polite than anything.

The Professor hums melodically again, sounding skeptical, I have the weird feeling she'd be a good singer, a voice like that, but I shake the thought away, concentrating on the conversation.

"I've brought the situation up with the other Professors and the Headmaster. They seem to believe it's worth keeping an eye on, in case it escalates. Your nonchalance is not doing you any favors, although I suppose no matter your reaction it would not stop things." Professor Haywood says, looking thoughtful, "Have you considered making a public statement?" She asks, abruptly.

I raise an eyebrow in skepticism, "Contact the Daily Prophet? With all due respect Professor, and please don't give me detention for this… But have you gone bloody mad?"

Professor Haywood smirks, twirling a strand of hair with a finger, "Oh, all witches are a tiny bit mad, Mister Greenwood." She says with a mischievous look, reminding me so much of Tonks in that moment that I have to blink and take a second look, to reassure myself Tonks hasn't just metamorphed into the Professor to mess with me.

It's totally something she'd do too.

"That doesn't mean the idea does not have merit, your name has been used frequently these last few weeks." Professor Haywood continues, unaware of my gaze looking for signs of deceit or transformation. "They've used your name and credited you with being the birth of this idea, they've given you quite some soft power in that, because people will listen to you now."

She pauses, taking a sip of tea, her eyes never leaving mine, she gingerly places the cup back down, folding her hands in front of herself on the desk, "It has happened many times in history in fact, as you're probably well aware what with your NEWT scores…" She says, a proud glint in her eyes. Professor Haywood takes Hufflepuff pride very seriously; she and Sprout got along too well. "The latest victorious example I believe was in the 1890's and early 1900s, the Ministry of the time regretted it bitterly - building up the reputation of the witch who eventually used it against them."

"I'm a firstie…" I say, but my mind is whirling, I have been intending to begin fighting back, but more on a Hogwarts level then a national one. But… They have used my name, all these bigwigs crediting me… Could I use that? The whole nation currently knows who I am, even if as nothing more than a curiosity to some of the less informed, I do have a reputation.

Both as a genius, and as a champion of magical traditions and culture.

The likes of Malfoy have stood up and proclaimed my wisdom for one my age, for realizing how important the proud ancestry and traditions of the wizarding world was to newcomers… He can hardly turn around and say I'm a useless mudblood if I speak up now, he'd lose too much face. As long as I am smart about it.

I can't possibly overturn the law, it's not even worth trying that, I don't have actual political power yet, the Wizengamot would never capitulate like that for some bad press and some stink around the bill. But educating muggleborns wasn't necessarily bad. Just needed a fix on the how.

That much I might be able to pull off…

Professor Haywood smiles over the rim of her teacup, her eyes twinkling, "Well… Firstie on a technicality, maybe." She teases warmly.

If I do this…

I can't go in half cocked. This needs to be properly planned out.

I have the tools, but I can't do this alone, not for something this big.

I need help.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

After classes, early evening.

I stand in the corner of the training room, wand loosely held in my hand as I watch Tonks putting the golden trio through the ringer.

They'd come to me for help in practicing defending themselves, and I had begun teaching them what I knew. But it had only taken one instance of Tonks stumbling upon us before it turned into Tonks teaching them with me as her lovely assistant.

Not that I needed to do much assisting most times. The trio hardly needed me jumping in on Tonks' side to be hilariously outmatched, and if I helped them, the training was skewed slightly - my skill level above theirs currently.

They were currently learning how to dodge, Tonks laughing in glee as she switched between the three targets at random intervals, pushing them, and ultimately punishing them anytime they tried to shield on reflex.

The golden trio were intermittently sending me betrayed looks as I'd taught them shielding spells just last session and they were having a hard time not automatically going to the new spell they'd spent hours on getting internalized.

Which is exactly why Tonks was doing this.

"It's dodging practice! Practice your limp wand work on your own time!" She cackled as Brian Lupin scrambled out of the way of rapid fire paintballs, already sporting several large splotches of paint.

… Not that the golden trio look particularly thankful for her help at the moment.

Harry rolled under the sudden fire as Tonks switched to target him as he closed in on her, giving Brian the chance to get out of the firing range and join up with Hermione.

The two were firing high towards Tonks torso from a distance as Harry tried to go low after coming up from his roll into a crouch.

The paintball spell is my own contribution, I didn't think Harry and co would necessarily enjoy the same kind of live fire exercise I had experienced. It also is one of the things motivating Tonks to help a bunch of brats she doesn't know well, she gets her own practice in both firing at small moving targets, as well as taking fire in the process and learning how to deal.

In this instance, she easily shimmies out of the way of Hermione and Brian's fire, the two still too rigid and slow in their shots, making it easy for Tonks to predict the trajectory long before she's hit.

Unfortunately for Harry, it meant she had all the time in the world to paste him with shots, managing a perfect shot to the face that blinded Harry by dint of completely covering his glasses in paint.

"Potter is out, you let him close in on his own to cover you guys' weaknesses, and didn't even provide proper spell work to suppress my counter attack." Tonks called out, shaking her head, never once slowing down on firing spells at the two retreating first year Gryffindors.

She had the added benefit of being able to fire silently while Hermione and Brian had to enunciate every shot. So her speed was a magnitude quicker, they never stood a chance.

I push off the wall as Hermione and Brian join Harry in being absolutely covered in paint. They look disgruntled, especially Harry. Losing is never fun, but personally… I think this training is the best thing that could happen to them, and way better than anything I had devised before Tonks jumped in.

Like me, they are first years, the best possible thing they can do in a duel… Is to not be there when the spell arrives.

Shields are nice. But wizards depending on them were already dead. Because they didn't last forever, and if you faced more than one opponent… They lasted even less.

Learning how low on the totem pole they are is doing wonders for their motivation, even Hermione isn't complaining about all the physical exercise anymore, and it's only been a few sessions.

Harry of course is taking to it like fish to water. I'm honestly a bit jealous.

"Alright there, Harry?" I ask, as I cast a finite incantatem that removes the paint covering his face.

Lucky for them the spell has such an easy counter, or they'd need several washes to get all that paint out. Although the house elf's would probably love the challenge.

Harry gives me a thankful look, accepting my hand up, letting out a huff as he stands up, "Still can't hit her, but I lasted way longer today." He mutters, giving me a side eyed look, "Any tips?"

It's not the first time he's asked me that, I shrug, giving him the same answer as last time, "Get faster at dodging, faster at casting. Only thing for it."

I myself tend to spend half an hour to forty five minutes a day just casting, trying to get a millisecond faster on moving my wand, on focusing my fire.

So far I am way ahead of the golden trio, but the way Harry is improving, I have a feeling I might be overtaken sooner rather than later. He'll never beat me in pure spell knowledge, or knowledge in general, but by Circe's tits - he has an intuitive grasp on fighting that can't be replicated.

This is the power of a protagonist or chosen one, huh?

Hermione and Brian walk over, both already cleaned up by Tonks, Hermione looking determined, a fire building in her eyes, one I've seen there since she began losing. This girl does not take well to failing at anything.

She'll need to learn to cope, because right now, she'd be terribly easy to manipulate by anyone that cottons on to how eager she is to improve herself in any manner at even a hint of being subpar.

Except maybe flying, as she's justified to herself that it's a silly skill that a witch doesn't need to get around. It's surely got nothing to do with her being both afraid of heights and terrible at flying…

"We need to train more, we need to dodge better," She says loudly, sounding frustrated, "Because we can't silent cast, we're always slower on the attack, so we'll never beat her like this."

"We need to be able to coordinate better in the moment, if we all could get into better positions she couldn't focus fire on us and we could hit her from several directions at once, forcing her to be on the defensive" Brian offers up, and that's the most I've ever heard him say. I still haven't had the opportunity to get him alone and ask him if Remus is his father or what's up with any of that, but maybe these little sessions will eventually give me the opportunity.

Even if he makes me slightly uncomfortable with how… Much like Pettigrew he seems to be. The quiet shy unassuming kid. The role Pettigrew had played throughout Hogwarts.

At least I am fairly sure Brian isn't faking his personality. He's way too unsure of himself, I think I'd be able to tell if that was faked.

I think. I'll still keep an eye on him. Just in case.

"Easier said than done, she doesn't let us separate too far without pushing us back together again with spells firing into the areas we try to go to." Harry says with a wry smile, "But good idea, Brian." He offers up, the shy kid ducking his head, not offering up an answer.

He rarely spoke during the sessions, seemingly saying more by body language and facial expressions than anything else. Something Harry and Hermione already were better at reading then I am. I felt bad for even thinking it, but he fit in better with the other two than Ron ever had.

Harry seemed to blossom more with someone to protect, just as Hermione did better with someone she could connect with intellectually. As good an outcome as any with the whole debacle I'd discovered by accident.

Hermione pats Brian on the shoulder gently, "We'll have to brainstorm a strategy, I refuse to continue to lose like this, we need to at least hit her back once!"

Tonks cackles as she ruffles the hair of both Hermione and Brian, making a mess of it, having easily snuck up on them as they lost all awareness of their surroundings once the 'exercise' was over. Something to perhaps mention for future training, I think. She succeeds in getting indignant looks from both of them, even as Harry hides a smile at the sight, "You brats are never going to get good enough to hit me, but I give ya props for having the balls to try." She winks at them, leaving one eye closed as she leans in, offering a tip, "You gotta learn how to deal with area denial though ickle babies."

"We'll get it done by the end of the month." Harry says seriously, a determined expression on his face, his friends both immediately following his lead, determination setting in all of them.

I rub my face, suppressing the urge to laugh, these guys… They're such… Protagonists, I think. I suddenly have no doubt Harry will manage to nail Tonks at least once by the end of the month.

Tonks grins, as always inordinately pleased to see someone showing some grit and determination. "I'll hold you to that squirt," She says, her grin turning wicked, "You don't want to know what I'll do to ya all if you disappoint~"

"You put yourself in this situation, don't look at me." I say, smirking at the trio as they all glance at me, hoping for Merlin knows what, I've had enough of my own share of Tonks madness, I'm not inviting myself into this.

"Lucas, you'll join them won't you?" Tonks says sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at me, growing them out to a ridiculous length just for effect.

See what you've done? I infer with a look towards Harry, who simply shrugs at me, I ignore Hermione's giggle as I roll my eyes, putting my hand forward into the middle of the group, "Go team hopelessly outmatched." I snark at them.

I might know a lot of spells, but this is a challenge for speed and agility and we won't match Tonks in that, even in one vs four. She's going for the Aurors in a couple months. We're hilariously outmatched if she takes us even slightly seriously.

The trio catch on quick and join their hands on-top of mine, Tonks laughing at me above us as we all cheer with lukewarm excitement for team hopelessly outmatched.

"Such an inspiring team name." A dry voice interrupts us, Padma and Su walking through the doors at that moment.

"We say it like it is." I answer Padma, giving Su a wave and a smile. I've been neglecting my friends due to my studies before the hols, I'm trying to make it up to them now, which makes today worse in effect, as I'm using our get together to get their help with my project.

Tonks assists us by using magic to drag the tables and chairs from the far wall into the middle of the room, draping herself over a chair after, having no intention of leaving, watching us with poorly hidden amusement.

"Yes Tonks, you're welcome to stay." I say cheekily, sitting down next to her, as Padma and Su chat with the golden trio, or honestly, mostly Hermione. The three girls immediately go into an academic debate of some sort, Harry and Brian sitting down to avoid being dragged into it.

"You need adult supervision, so many brats in one place, why I fear for your virtue little claw." Tonks teases me, shifting so she can put her feet up on the table, leaning back dangerously on her chair.

"Let me know when an adult arrives." I reply back dryly, as the door opens again, letting in the Hufflepuff contingent of my friends.

"We brought snacks!" Hannah calls out cheerfully, Susan and Neville barely visible behind her, a multitude of house elf provided snack foods teetering precariously in their arms.

"Oh, I can help with that!" Hermione immediately calls out brightly, waving her wand, muttering under her breath as she levitates the snacks forward, freeing Susan and Neville.

I'm not the only one to look at her with surprise. Levitating that many objects so expertly is no small thing for a firstie, and so quietly, Hermione is obviously taking Tonks silent casting personally and is already working on making her spell casting more quiet.

"Thank you!" Neville lets out with relish, all the heavier snack items lifting out of his arms. Susan and Hannah's thanks echoing his a moment later.

I might have created a monster here… But if it makes it more likely Harry survives? I suppose it's all for the better that Hermione improves so rapidly.

"Why couldn't you have done that, Hannah?" Susan complains with a crooked smile, jostling her friend's elbow, "Would have saved us the trouble of almost crashing into every wall between the kitchens and here."

Hannah giggles, "I am the supervisor, I just supervised." She slides into a chair, putting her nose in the air, "I leave the thinking to the plebs, like you, Susan." She says putting on fake airs.

"I'll show you plebs, I know where you sleep." Susan retorts, rolling her eyes as she sits down next to Hannah, Neville sitting down on the other side.

"It's nice that we can all get together again." Su says quietly, looking around the table, "I missed this." She adds, ducking her head slightly as everyone focuses on her.

"Yeah, now that Lucas has finally joined the living again, stopping his inferi impersonation." Padma adds, smirking as she sends me a challenging look.

I stand up, raising my hands placatingly, "Yes, I know, I've been distant, I have time again now, and I really think it would be nice if we did something like this every weekend, just all of us together, hanging out."

Sure, the golden trio hadn't been a part of that in the beginning, but it seems the plot will find me wherever I go, so I no longer see much point in keeping them at arm's length.

"You guys are unbearably cute, you know that?" Tonks interjects, a shit eating grin on her face, "I'm going to have to come along just to get my weekly sugar content."

"Yes… You're invited too, Tonks." I say dryly, knowing I can't stop her either way.

"You didn't call us all here for a party this time though, did you, Lucas?" Neville asks shrewdly, "This is your training area, right? You don't really mix fun and function much."

With the way eyes all turn in my direction with not a hint of doubt in any of them, I'm apparently easier to read than I thought. I twitch as Harry sniggers at me, laugh it up, just wait a few years until every girl here wants to date the boy-who-lived, I'll get my revenge… I think, eyeing the predominantly female group.

"You guys… Neville is the Lucas whisperer! We have so much to ask!?" Hannah says mockingly, she leans forward, "Like… Boxers or briefs?" She breaks down into giggles immediately after, not able to hold onto a serious mien. Susan swatting at her fondly.

"Usually it's you helping us, so what do you need, Lucas?" Hermione of course is on point, and doesn't devolve into silliness.

I rake a hand through my hair, taking a deep breath, "Alright, you've probably noticed that the new muggleborn law has made things a little… Tense." I start, gauging who knows what I'm talking about, not surprised to see that all of the first years know, even as Tonks look at me with a confused expression.

"It's ridiculous, blaming you for it. Gryffindors should know better." Brian mutters darkly, staring down at the table. From what Harry has told me, Gryffindor tower has exploded into debate several times lately, only Gryffindors aren't always the best at debating with their words.

"Hufflepuff isn't as bad, but it's not good either." Susan acknowledges, "At least the upper years are staying out of it." She added, sounding unsure if that was a positive or not.

"Ravenclaw… Is all or nothing." Su says as eyes turn towards the ravens, she bites her lip at the attention, looking to Padma, who takes over with a sigh, "They're either all against you, or all for you, there's really no in-between."

"What… Are you all talking about? What does this law have to do about Lucas?" Tonks asks suspiciously, looking from the others to me, having not noticed a thing apparently.

I'd rather she not know at all, but better she finds out here, where she won't lose her crap if she sees some random student shoving me around. That said, ouch, she might fight like one, but she's really not the investigative type of Auror is she?

"The muggleborn law that the Ministry recently passed has been tied to Lucas in the press, all the older families crediting him with kickstarting the movement." Hermione explains succinctly, as I give her a thankful look for explaining it in a non explosive way.

My look turns to alarm when Hermione doesn't stop there, and continues to explain the situation in detail, "Lucas has faced a lot of bullying from the muggleborn because of all the attention, which is stupid, it's not like he had anything to do with making the law." Hermione finishes with a huff, looking offended on my behalf.

My eyes though turn to Tonks who's fuming, her face smiling pleasantly and innocently at Hermione, even as her eyes promise hellfire, "You wouldn't happen to have any names, Granger?" She asks sweetly.

Hermione opens her mouth, but stops suddenly, clearing her throat awkwardly, both Brian and Harry having grabbed her arms, saying without a word that she needs to stop, "I don't… Know?" She says weakly.

Tonks fingers her wand, looking like she's ready to get up and go hunting immediately, I know I need to stop that before anything happens.

"Tonks, I'm okay, it's literally been nothing to worry about, that's why I haven't even said anything to you." I say placatingly, catching her eyes, trying to impress how unaffected I am. With limited success, she looks pissed.

"But you have a plan, right? That's why all of this, right?" Hannah says, eyeing Tonks with some uncertainty, she still wasn't overly popular with most of my friends. They still remembered the beating.

I smile at Hannah, relieved to move away from any discussion on my 'bullying', "Yes, exactly, the upside to every politician and ancient family hyping up my name in the press for this law, is that it means if I say something about it, people will listen."

Susan looks skeptical, "They won't go back on a law over that, no matter what you say." She argues, and she'd likely know the most about politics in our group due to her aunt. And she's absolutely right.

I say as much, getting some confused looks around the table.

"I can't put the genie back in the bottle," I explain, "But if I raise enough of a fuss, perhaps I can get the part of the law where the old dark families are in charge of muggleborn education switched to an equal representation model. Do you think your gran would be against that, Neville?" I ask, knowing she'd been instrumental in negotiating this law.

Neville looks surprised to be asked, but takes a moment to think of it, looking unsure as he finally answers, "I can't say… But she did complain a lot about the liberties the dark families took in the final draft."

"Then why did they agree?" Su asks, a thought I see echoed around the table in the less politically astute firsties. And Tonks.

Susan pinches the bridge of her nose, answering instead of Neville, "Because more education for muggleborns has been something people have tried to pass for ages, and they took the chance to get it passed while the dark families were willing to deal." She explained, cautioning shortly after, "Or so I'd guess."

"That's my take on it too." I say, nodding at Susan, "It's why I think there's a chance, if there's enough of a furor raised - to push the likes of Lady Longbottom into the process on how muggleborn get educated. Ensuring it won't be just pureblood propaganda." I notice some arch looks and I hold up my hands, smiling, "Alright, dark pureblood propaganda, I know that not all purebloods believe in this nonsense."

"I don't know politics," Tonks says slowly, tapping her heels on the table, seemingly restless, but at least not noticeably murderous anymore, "But counting on the Daily Prophet seems like a risky idea."

I nod, "Which is why I'm going to divine the best path forward." I say, bringing out my pouch of dice.

Divination is what truly sets me apart after all. It's really my best path forward for gaining any advantage. It's the one thing I can do that others can not match or exceed. At least anyone I know of.

Padma raises an eyebrow in surprise, "I thought you'd get less reliable results the more you used it?" She asks, her interest piqued at the idea of performing divination magic.

Hermione and Brian on the other hand look politely skeptical, but at least they keep it to themselves.

"That's right. It does. Which is why it won't be me doing it." I say, revealing my plan, "Belief is the most important part of this process, and most of you," I stress, knowing Hermione and Brian is not amongst that number yet, "Have seen me do it, have seen the results, and you believe. So you can perform it too."

"But we won't be as good as you, right?" Su asks, peering at the dice I laid out on the table.

"Seems risky." Tonks throws in, looking unusually solemn, "You sure you want to count on me for this, baby claw?"

"Absolutely." I tell her firmly, holding her gaze until she looks away, I turn to Su next, "You won't be as good as me, yes, I seem to have a knack for this, but that's why there's many of you. I can put your results together over a couple of days or weeks - and find the best path forward."

I hold one of the dice up, "I can't trust the Daily Prophet randomly, but I looked up who works there earlier today, even if it takes us a week or a month, we'll go through everyone in the writing staff, picking a new one daily, until we find one that the dice say will be able to print my story as I want it, and is able to get the editor onboard."

"We'll find the right person, the right time, the right circumstances, and we'll release the story when the combined results of all of you - and my one roll a day - match for the result we want." I say seriously, twirling the dice in-between my fingers, "The reform of the muggleborn law."

"Divination will be the key, they won't even see me coming." I promise, all my friends pledging their support.

Even Brian and Hermione, who do not believe it in the same way, but that's good too, their results will be illuminating as well.

I won't just let them do what they want. Not any more.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

The first day of results were promising. Not that they got good results for the plan moving forward. No, it was promising because I had picked Rita Skeeter as the first subject, and the dice had unanimously told me what a terrible idea that was. Which as far as I'm concerned is proof of the concept working.

After that, we'd enjoyed our evening together, talking, getting to know the golden trio better, with Tonks even managing to soften some of the antagonistic feelings some of my friends still held towards her.

Mostly by goofing off and acting way below her age, utilizing plenty of ridiculous transformations, but hey, whatever works.

I'd held Harry back after, telling him my divination had found out he had an invisibility cloak, and asked him if I could borrow it for a night, to further my moves against my detractors.

Considering I had previously knocked him out and stolen it, I feel bad for how easily he handed it over, only showing a moment of hesitation before he decided I needed it more then him at the moment.

With the Auror presence at Hogwarts, I'm not going around the castle at night without something like it. And normally I'd be tucked in bed right now reading an interesting tome on magic, but my proactive moves will not be just limited to my reputation.

I'm not quite ready yet to try and unravel my memory charm. I still have a long way to go in Legilimency. But that doesn't mean I can't continue to make a hassle for Professor Quirrell. Especially with the Auror presence at the castle, no doubt keeping an eye on him, something I'd love to make more troubling for the asshole.

The more his movements get limited, the better for me and the castle. Ideally he'll manage to get himself arrested, which would really be the cherry on top.

The only downside being my continued need to deal with the devil…

I'd made another deal with him over a week ago, and it was time to collect. I'd sent him a message earlier, before the meeting. And I had gotten my reply right before curfew, delivered by a Ravenclaw prefect of all people.

I arrive outside the Slytherin common room shortly after curfew, going down the corridor, past two storage rooms before I reach an empty classroom.

Not quite empty tonight, as I spy Draco Malfoy inside.

I take a moment to whisper out detection charms, but I find no one else in the vicinity, so the odds of it being a trap have lessened somewhat. I'm not exactly thrilled about making deals with Draco, but between Quirrell or Malfoy, I know which threat I'd rather deal with going forward.

Draco is definitely not quite the same person as he was in Canon, with the Aurors out and about, I definitely wouldn't have expected him to meet me outside his common room after curfew, even if it was just a few doors down.

Canon Malfoy would have absolutely made this a trap. Turns out this version is actually a Slytherin. And he's looking to deal.

I stow the invisibility cloak in my bag, entering the door quickly, Malfoy not even raising his wand at my quick entrance, sitting arrogantly at the desk, a satchel in front of him. "Greenwood." He says amicably, a strange expression on his face.

"Malfoy. You have it?" I ask, taking a quick step forward, eyes going to the satchel, I have no intention to linger and risk Aurors, or worse, Snape.

"Of course, it wasn't a problem. The Aurors are using dark detectors, they're useless if an item isn't dark magic." Malfoy says easily, pushing the satchel forward, towards me, his eyes sharp and assessing. "I'm glad you reached out, I'm sure we can have a fruitful relationship."

I felt slimy just hearing it.

"It would be more fruitful, if you'd tell me what payment you want for this. I don't like leaving something hanging over my head." I retort, grabbing the satchel, drawing an appreciative nod from the Malfoy heir when I use any detection charms I have on the satchel as well. Everything's coming up clean.

Malfoy smirks arrogantly, "Seeing what you'll do is more than enough payment for now, Greenwood. It helps us understand you better."

I grit my teeth at the us. I knew when I made contact that I wouldn't solely be dealing with the spawn, that he'd report to his father. I felt dirty for even doing it. But in the end, he was definitely the smaller fish. I couldn't wait to see their faces when their muggleborn law turns right back to its purpose - education, not propaganda or indoctrination.

"I'll be going now then." I say, backing away, Malfoy sitting smugly in his seat the entire time, as soon as I exit the room, I fire off more detection spells, still finding nothing, which is slightly unexpected, I slip the invisibility cloak on and make my way out of the dungeon.

Nothing I'm doing is illegal, yet. Although it breaks Hogwarts rules, so even if Malfoy would snitch on me after setting me up, the worst I'll get is detention or suspension for having these things in my possession, no one would believe I created them after all. I'd purposely not asked for anything dark anyway, I didn't want to ping the wards, nor draw Auror attention. Not to me, anyways.

Quirrell had walked away from my previous attempt of implicating him without an issue. He'd probably still be fine after this attempt as well, somehow. But I'd give it my best shot.

I was looking to limit his movements, make him paranoid, have him look for enemies, all things that would have him focusing away from me and mine.

I'd moved tonight, because the sooner the better, and the Marauders map said Quirrell was not patrolling tonight, as he was in his office, either sleeping or awake, it didn't matter.

The closer he was the better, so he'd be found on the scene. With the invisibility cloak I'd be able to scamper long before he arrived if he had some strange urge to come check on the classroom.

It doesn't take me long to arrive at the DADA classroom. It's locked of course. I don't want to use my wand to unlock it, if it even would do so to a simple alohomora. I reach into the satchel for one of the two items Malfoy has provided me.

I take out a gadget that looks somewhat like a see through metal Swiss army knife. I slide out an attachment that looks like a key, inserting it in the look, with a quiet whirl it goes to work, the locking ward fizzling out as the door swings open silently.

I have no doubt this thing is expensive, which adds to my discomfort on dealing with Malfoy for it. But at least at the very cheap cost of knowing what I'm using it all for.

No magic traces left by me by using this thing instead of my magic. No trace other than Malfoy knowing exactly what I've done once the news hits. I doubt they'll inform Quirrell, he's too young to have been an original Death Eater, so he's not in that circle. But even if they do, this should still work to force him to ignore me anyway. Because he won't be able to get me alone, or even make a move for me after this.

Whatever his plan is here at Hogwarts, he can't afford to keep going after me. If he even figures out it was me, his plan will be more Important, I'm sure, considering who's backing him…

Quietly moving across the classroom, I make it to one of the cabinets, using the lockbreaker again to force my way inside, the locking ward fizzling out. With no sign of forced entry, it will look even more likely that Quirrell himself is the only one with the access to everything in here.

I specifically use a cabinet that has been locked all year. I peer inside, slightly curious why it's never been opened, but find nothing special inside, just a bunch of parchment bundled together. I almost grab it, but my hand freezes just above it. It could be spelled as well, and I can't afford to cast a detection spell. Whatever it is, I can't deal with it, I have my own reason to be here.

Slowly I remove the spherical shaped spelled object from the satchel, not something made out of dark magic, but something volatile. I can feel it shaking even now. Something that should not be kept in a room full of children. Something that would definitely put a professor already on thin ice - on the very edge of his rope.

He'll likely have an Auror attached at all times after this, the suspicion all falling on him with his record so far.

That's if Dumbledore doesn't just fire him. I can hope, but I'll settle for him being watched 24/7 by Aurors.

With the explosive placed in the cabinet, I slowly close it, making my way out of the door, closing it quietly behind me, bringing out the map as I walk away, ensuring I don't go anywhere near a patrolling Professor or Auror.

If Malfoy isn't lying to me, the explosion would be enough to wipe out everything in the classroom. Making it stored there in the first place, a big black mark on Quirrell.

It had been a risk, but I had bet on Malfoy being more interested in me and what I could be up to, then in exploding me with a faulty product. Seems I was right.

I'd been very clear in my ask, I wanted something that would look and have the feel of something experimental, something the professor could have been playing around with - at least in theory, or something someone might assume happened. Malfoy had delivered something that I hoped would fit all those parameters. In the end, the most important one was that it would explode.

Malfoy had been very clear. Once it left the satchel, it would explode somewhere within the next five hours. So there was no risk for any students as it would happen at night time.

I hoped it worked. But if it didn't….

Well. No matter. I'll just have to try again with something worse.

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"Quirinus, what are you doing down here? It's not your night to patrol, is it?" Aurora asked, Auror Westin at her side peering in suspicion at the DADA professor in front of them.

The Auror already had his wand drawn, suspicious people, these Ministry types, Aurora thought. Quirinus surely had a reason to be here.

The Astronomy Professor had been looking forward to finishing this uneventful patrol and getting away from it all, to go back to watching her stars, something much more gratifying and important than this drudge work. She did not fully approve of the Auror presence, or the new schedule they all had to follow, especially as it increased her duties, taking time away from her personal studies.

It all made Aurora distinctly uncomfortable, as the shared nighttime patrols with the Aurors did now also come with a very rigid schedule to avoid exactly this - people roaming the halls for no discernable reason.

Barely seen in the shadows of the dungeon, the DADA professor stood, facing away from them. The unadorned stone walls of the dungeon - with the large statues in front of them reaching up to the ceiling, cast a long shadow throughout the hallway.

"Ah, Aurora, so far away from your tower, my dear. I was simply dealing with a small discipline matter with the caretaker." Quirinus said smoothly, turning to face them, a genial smile all that could be seen of his face in the darkness.

How odd, she'd never seen such darkness in the castle before, almost a void, devoid of anything, it was making Aurora nervous.

"Oh, glad to have that sorted out." Aurora said with a tired smile, she wasn't particularly fond of the man, actually she quite disliked him, but she was glad it wasn't anything nefarious going on. "I hope you mentioned to Argus about how the lights down here seem to be malfunctioning." She added, frowning at their surroundings, was it getting darker? That can't be right?

"Professor, please step forward into the light. Hands visible." Auror Westin said sternly. "Nice and easy now, no need to make this harder for anyone."

"Now, really -" Aurora began to protest, but the Auror cut her off.

"Please draw your wand, Professor Sinistra." His own already pointing at the DADA Professor. "It does not matter that he is a colleague of yours, he is not adhering to the schedule set up to prevent any funny business, he will need to explain his deviation, we'll have to question the caretaker as well." Westin said, no compromise in his tone.

A deep sigh was their only answer, Aurora agreeing with her colleague's exasperation, this was beyond anything they'd agreed to with the Aurors, the man was treating Quirrell like a criminal! She opened her mouth to protest only to snap it shut in shock as the Auror suddenly shielded himself, several spells splashing harmlessly against the shield, succeeding in cracking it slightly.

The Auror swore as he had to swivel suddenly, a spell somehow curving around him to strike from behind him, Westin barely managing to spell swat it into the wall, scorching it.

Aurora's own wand shot into her hand as she turned, firing a bone breaker into the darkness, her heart pounding. She couldn't see well, but she'd aimed straight for the Professor's torso.

"Bone breaker? Tsk, tsk, Professor, that's not very nice." Quirrell called out, chuckling slightly, his voice menacing, even as he spoke, Westin soundlessly fell, his wand rolling away from his now prone form. Aurora hadn't even seen what hit him - she thought he'd managed to parry the spell.

This is bad… She thought frantically, her own fighting ability was not bad per say, but compared to an Auror… And he'd been taken down easily, Quirrell hardly even making an effort.

"I don't bother with stunners for an enemy, Quirinus. Why are you doing this?" She questioned, trying to stall for time, the darkness was now almost all encompassing, and she felt foolish for not realizing they'd been caught in a spell effect from the moment they'd made it down into this hallway.

She hadn't even bothered to pay attention, they were at Hogwarts, she had an Auror with her, there was no danger!

"Honestly, You don't matter at all Aurora, simple happenstance brought you here. After all, your patrol route shouldn't have taken you here at all." Quirrell gave an aggrieved sigh as he seemed to be rubbing the back of his head in frustration. "What is the point in breaking into the Auror's schedules if they're not going to follow them, this is such a bother."

Aurora felt fear grip her, the way the man in front of her so casually spoke of circumventing all the Aurors at Hogwarts, and the wards of the Headmaster himself. The nonchalance he had in the face of Aurora's wand… "Expecto Patro-" She tried desperately to get a message out.

"None of that now." Quirrell said irritably, his wand slashing through the darkness soundlessly, her emerging Patronus cut in half as it began to form.

Aurora lost her wand, falling down on her knees as ropes bound her arms to her sides as Quirrell snapped his fingers, conjuring the bindings wandlessly.

What in Merlin's name is going on!? She thought, amazed and disturbed at the casual skill on display. "You are behind the Cerberus attack!" She accused, she needed to keep him talking, long enough that someone would wonder why their patrol was still going on.

Suddenly her heart felt like an ice cold hand had a grip around it, a harsh voice with a slight hiss coming out of the darkness, fear chilling the blood in her veins. " Fool, this is the second time you've failed to account for the people of this castle, only my synergy with the Hogwarts wards is keeping your bumbling efforts from being discovered!"

"Apologies Master, I will clean up my mess, none will be the wiser, your plan is still on track." Quirrell said subserviently, a hint of his own fear in his voice. Aurora didn't see who he was speaking to, but that voice… Her suspicions were enough to drown her in her fear. Her eyes wide, her breath coming out in short gasps, as she stared at death itself hidden in the darkness.

"Don't worry my dear valued colleague, killing you is too final and liable to get Dumbledore to step off his throne, you'll have to wait to die with all the rest." Quirrell said mockingly to her, raising his wand. The darkness swirling around him, Aurora saw a hint of red in the darkness but wasn't able to pinpoint it as it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Aurora only had a moment to feel a slight relief, an Obliviation was far preferable to the alternative after all. Then the voice spoke again.

" My connection with the ward stone is not ideal in this state. I've dampened the wards of the area temporarily, you have ten seconds of absolutely no alerts for dark magic. Shackle them both!"

Quirrell stepped fully out of the darkness, a mad glint in his eyes as he met Aurora's panicked gaze, "You give me the nicest things, Master." He exalted.

No no no no, he can't be back!

"Get on with it!" Was hissed out in response.

"Imperio!"

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In the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was interrupted in his parchment work as a device on his table suddenly let out a gong, turning a dark red color.

"I'd say that is that." The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black said pompously, "You finally have an answer, are you going to do something about it?" He asked challengingly.

A cacophony of noise erupted as the other portraits of previous Headmaster's complained about Phineas attitude or outright yelled at him. Dumbledore raising a hand placatingly, eventually silencing them as he watched the trinket with his bushy brows furrowed in thought.

It was as he thought... Tom had always had a special relationship with Hogwarts, had plunged into her mysteries deeper than any before him. He'd suspected during the chamber of secrets incident that Tom had managed to gain a limited tie to the wards, now it was confirmed.

Someone had just diverted the wards in the dungeons, hiding an act of dark magic from his gaze; he'd have been completely blind to it if he hadn't suspected… If he hadn't prepared.

He directed the portraits to watch all exits from the dungeon while he examined the magic tied to his trinket. It was no small thing he'd made, collaborating with Nicholas to build a device to circumvent Hogwarts wards while still being ultimately sensitive to any fluctuations in them.

Generally, anything that interacted closely with any aspect of magic tended to take in a small part of it; it had been an interesting intellectual exercise to craft something that broke the laws of magic.

Although to Nicholas and he, the laws were more suggestions than anything else.

Should anyone but he gain access to the device it would be an incredible blow against Hogwarts security. He'd have to destroy it after this situation was cleared up. As much as it would pain him to harm an artifact of such excellent craftsmanship and ingenuity.

Armando's portrait returned fifteen minutes later, and Dumbledore turned expectant eyes on his old mentor.

"Professor Sinistra and Auror Westin exited the dungeon together. Once they were out of sight, Professor Quirrell soon followed." Armando reported stiffly.

Dumbledore closed his eyes wearily. Oh, Aurora. He let out a deep sigh. Yet another crime to lay at his own feet, he'd have to leave her under the likely Imperius curse. He could not allow Quirrell to know that he was aware of his misdeeds. He needed him to enter the trap. Especially now that it was confirmed he was harboring Tom - no one else could have diverted the wards.

Leaving an Auror under his control practically guaranteed that the Auror presence would be useless against him, but the trap was the only thing that mattered. The important members of the Ministry were outside Tom's reach, Rufus and Amelia would still play their parts come time.

They'd have a way to end the madness, once and for all.

By doing the one thing Tom would never suspect him of. Sacrificing everyone and everything for the goal.

Rubeus… Now Aurora… The poor muggleborns taken from Hogsmeade… Miss Onai… They all wouldn't be the only ones to suffer before it was all said and done.

"Keep an eye on them, full surveillance." He ordered with a heavy heart. Their movements would give him an idea of what Tom was planning.

The portraits and the ghosts would follow the two enslaved servants in a way Quirrell couldn't be followed. Tom was too skilled to allow himself to be caught easily, but he couldn't pass those skills on completely to mind controlled minions, so their movements would help him, not Tom.

Aurora would never forgive him, he thought as he walked over to stand by the window, looking up at the night sky the passionate woman loved so much.

How many lives must you ruin Tom?

… How many must you make me ruin?

His thoughts were interrupted as an explosion was felt by the wards. What in Merlin's name!?

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Author's note:

Lucas getting paranoid now - not realizing Penny has every reason to want to look out for him, he's a fellow puff being targeted, he's Tonks friend, and his love of history which she shares are all valid enough reasons to keep a close eye on him.

Can't really blame Lucas though, with how the year has been, it's not that weird for him to see ulterior motives in everything.

Haven't seen Quirrell for a bit. No worries. He's still up to no good. Someone's been spending the year messing with Hogwarts wards too it seems, wonder who?

The Aurors aren't full of suck, but Westin really didn't know what he walked into here, and was put on the defensive immediately.

Lucas has seen enough shit, so now he's making his own moves. He has no idea about any plan the adults have, he's not willing to wait either. He sees threats - he wants to at the very least neutralize them. If not remove them entirely. Enough to work with Draco, who he sees as the least of his problems.

Hope you enjoyed it, and lighter, btw, does not mean dark stuff won't happen, Death Eaters are still very bad.

Poor Dumbledore, makes his plans and then an eleven year old goes and starts blowing them up.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus 

…

Just to address something that regularly comes up - competent does not mean omnipotent or all knowing.

Competent does not mean everything goes right every time, it does not mean everyone is hyper competent. In this case it means less people holding an idiot ball for canon plot purposes - it doesn't suddenly mean everyone are geniuses that do no wrong.

Chapter warning: Mental breakdown described decently graphically - for those who want to avoid such, skip the last scene of the chapter.

As always, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her pool, no money is being made on my end.

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Undercroft, Hogwarts.

"You've been doing nothing but reading papers and muttering to yourself… Are you going to do anything entertaining anytime soon?" Sebastian drawls, sounding annoyed, from where he leans against the frame of his portrait.

I send him an annoyed glare, smoothing out the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. "I'm sorry if it's not entertaining you enough, Sebastian." I say acerbically, "It's not like I've been busting my ass, spreading divination magic amongst my entire friend circle, to help me influence the news and the Wizengamot or anything…"

"Divination magic shouldn't even work like that…" Ominis grumbles almost inaudibly.

I ignore him, as has become my usual routine lately. If he is going to persist in having some sort of grudge against me, I am not going to deign to answer him or entertain him. He can suffice with just Sebastian and Tonks for stimulation - he'll break eventually.

He's an intellectual… Sebastian and Tonks will not be enough, if anything they might speed the process up. Merlin knows I sometimes just want to escape a conversation with either of them for various reasons.

I return to the newspaper, ignoring Sebastian needling Ominis in the background. The last few weeks had seen good progress in many ways, around both Hogwarts and beyond.

For one, my little trick on Quirrell had seen the man suspended - with pay - pending investigation. It had neatly removed him from Hogwarts for a month, which unfortunately would run out in a week… But it had given me time to work - without the niggling worry that he'd corner me somewhere and obliviate me again.

It's the little things you notice now, like with so many portraits around Hogwarts, they really still have way too many stretches of the castle with no portraits, aka, no witnesses…

With spring arriving, the end of the year is only a few short months away, I'm getting close to the inevitable conclusion, and I can't help but hope Quirrell dies here, just as he did in canon.

Defense against the Dark Arts is being taught by one of the Aurors stationed at Hogwarts right now, which has also eased the pressure somewhat - the class is almost enjoyable at the moment.

Well except all the students glaring at me…

I have been using divination to follow along on the investigation, or not so much follow really, as spying the end result ahead of time (handy that) - so I already know Quirrell will return. There just isn't enough proof that he is behind the happenings at Hogwarts. If anything, my little attack has some of the Aurors believing the man is being framed. Which is sort of right, but he's being framed for being guilty, so…

I sigh, returning my gaze to the headline of today's Prophet, putting Quirrell out of my mind for now. Success should taste better than this… I can't help but think forlornly.

While the muggleborn culture law could not be repelled by any means I have available to me - it could be, and have been - reworked.

Yesterday, finally… After weeks of work, the Prophet is now reporting on how the committee working on the implementation of the law have taken 'recent events' into consideration, and ensured there would be equal representation in the implementation of the law.

Sounds boring, but it is the best I could achieve. Muggleborns everywhere in Britain would still have to do the competency tests and early schooling - which I am not necessarily opposed to in the first place, as more knowledge would only help those new to the magical world.

Early schooling at least should fix some of the problems that set the factions apart in the first place - like slack jawed muggleborns arriving at Hogwarts and messing up for months. As it had been, it wouldn't have been good though.

The problem had lain in only the dark faction supervising the program, deciding what books to use, how the tests would be made, the schooling, all of it. Now… After a Prophet campaign spanning weeks, I've managed to get every faction involved in the disposition of the committee - ensuring anything that would trickle down to muggleborns, would have to pass through, accepted by both light and dark.

So it would probably suck, as compromises generally did, but at least it wouldn't be evil.

It hadn't been easy at all, utilizing my friends for divination purposes, all to separate the different reporters that could be trusted at the Daily Prophet - to ensure my point would be made without too much embellishment.

Not surprisingly, there hadn't been many positives for finding trustworthy reporters…

There were so many variables to go through that even with a whole group using divination together, it had been a slog.

It hadn't been helped by the golden trio switching off after a few days, mere acquaintances to us all more than anything - their general skepticism about divination was giving poor results all throughout those first days, but at least their poor results worked as a counterpoint, before they left. In their failures, they were still useful, but Hermione and failures didn't go well… So off they went.

I wasn't really sad to see them go, I don't mind helping Harry to be stronger - but I don't want to be too heavily involved in his clusterfuck life either.

I have enough issues without standing in the splash zone of Harry 'everyone wants a piece' Potter. Quirrell's detentions had brought us together, but only in a mostly superficial way, the training we were doing didn't invite much conversation, so we haven't really gotten close.

Hermione is still of the mistaken belief she will one day catch up to me. Which is cute. I already got OWLs and NEWTs sweetie…

Besides, even if by some miracle she catches up… She'll still lose, because her non believing ass will never catch up to me in Divination.

Divination really is an amazing piece of magic, and such a useful tool to boot, there's no way the campaign would have succeeded without it.

Rolling the dice everyday to find a reporter I could trust, then rolling the dice to find a reporter amongst those trustworthy that could actually get the story through the editor… Then rolling to find the version of the story that could get past the editor that would have the greatest effect on the law…

I have had a divination induced migraine for weeks now, and I haven't even been doing most of the actual divination magic, my friends have!

I let my head fall down on top of the newspaper stack, letting loose a sigh, feeling some of the stress of the last few weeks slide off.

"Maybe they'll finally get off my case now…" I mumble quietly, referencing the massive hate on - that the muggleborns of Hogwarts have had for me lately. Blaming me for the law is ridiculous considering I'm nothing but a cheap patsy for the pureblood movement to point at and say - see, it works! Yet they still do.

People are generally ridiculous and believe anything if it's repeated often enough though, and boy do purebloods love repeating how my passion for history and magical culture birthed the law…

Fucking Draco Malfoy in particular…

"That's not how humans work." Sebastian calls out cheerfully, answering my mumbled thoughts.

I sigh yet again, rising up, stretching, feeling my body protest after hours of sitting still. I turn towards Sebastian and Ominis, frowning, "I know people are petty dumb sheep, you tell me so often." I say sarcastically, running a hand through my hair, grimacing at the dusty feel. I'm spending too much time hunched over books and parchment in dark corners, I think with tired bemusement.

Sebastian scoffs, looking over towards Ominis to see if he is going to interject, but the blind portrait simply crosses his arms silently. Sebastian turns back to look at me, a self satisfied smirk on his face, "Somehow you've gotten through this whole year almost, with an intact belief in humanity, it's really a failing, I blame your Hufflepuffness."

"You blame everything on my Hufflepuffness…" I say dryly, "I'm late for breakfast, it's because I'm a Hufflepuff, I slip, it's because I wear black and yellow robes, someone hits me with a stinging hex to the back of my head - again - it's because I'm a Hufflepuff…"

Sebastian's smirk grows even smugger, "Well, when I'm right, I'm right!" He has a sly look to his features as he continues, "Except this time it's not so much that, as it is your silly belief that you've changed anything."

I grimace, looking away. I'm well aware I haven't really fixed anything. I've more… Equalized it slightly, where it will be less prone to abuse. "I did what I could, it will have to be enough." I say with tired finality, my dark bags have bags on them from how much time I've spent either working divination magic myself - or supervising it - not to mention studying as much as I could find on the subject.

"You should have saved yourself the bother," Sebastian says flippantly, Ominis nodding, then looks surprised at himself for agreeing, Sebastian's smile growing as he spots it, "See, even Ominis agrees! Do you really think all the little anklebiters in the castle are going to even notice a change to the law? Or care? They'll still blame you for its existence." Sebastian chuckles, shaking his head with a mocking tilt to his lips, "Which is farcical to begin with, but one can not attribute too much intelligence to the masses I suppose, especially muggleborns."

I almost forget at times that I'm dealing with Slytherins, even if it's in portrait form. While not inherently racist as most of their living peers - Sebastian and Ominis still look at muggleborn as amusing distant cousins, the kind that might wrestle with pigs for amusement or something equally low brow. It is beyond irritating.

Before I can give a scathing reply, the secret entrance to the Undercroft opens up, depositing Tonks, who immediately brightens at seeing me, bouncing forward with a cheery wave, "Wotcher, Lucas!"

"Hello, Tonks." I say, limply waving back, not really having the energy to match her.

"What's with the grumpy reply, baby raven?" She questions, coming forward to hug me to her side, "You won, you got what you needed out of all your hard work, all of my hard work as your helper, you should be over the moon!"

I detach myself from her, sighing, "I'm pleased it worked, but over the moon might be shooting too high, Tonks." The brightest muggleborn might understand how the law change benefits them - the rest… Aren't going to like me much going forward no matter what.

Not what I would have imagined starting the year, that the muggleborns, not the Purebloods, would be the ones hating my guts.

Tonks scoffs, ruffling my hair, before grimacing and shaking her hand slightly, "Did you make out with a spider web or something, kiddo? Blech!" She grabs her wand and before I can protest - or duck - she blasts me with a silent scourgify, cleaning my hair, but also my desk, sending papers flying everywhere.

"...Thanks for the help." I say, very dryly. I also peer at her, inwardly frowning over just how… Forced, her cheeriness feels.

She makes a flourish with her wand, an irreverent grin on her face, "You're welcome!" She chirps, before ruffling my hair again, this time without dust or spiderwebs impeding her. "Seriously though, you're actually famous, you know? The articles got the Wizengamot to mention you when discussing the law!"

Fame is a fickle mistress… I can't help but think, since just a small dose of local fame had been enough to set this entire thing in motion - people using my slight fame - to their advantage, not mine. "It's really not all that good to have the attention of the Wizengamot as a first year student, Tonks." I mutter.

"Oh, he's just being a pathetic little flobberworm, ignore his whinging and come chat with me instead, beautiful!" Sebastian interjects with a slight leer.

"Please don't humor him." Ominis says quickly, earning a cry of "Traitor!" From Sebastian.

Tonks fingers her wand, giving Sebastian the evil eye, "Don't say that about my friend…" She threatens lowly, alarming me a little at how vicious she sounds all of a sudden for such a minor thing.

I put my hand on her wrist, lowering her wand hand which had begun to raise in the air. "Ignore him Tonks, he's just looking to get a rise out of us because he's bored." I say, giving Sebastian a look that the Slytherin can easily parse. You owe me one.

I switch the subject before Tonks can set the portrait on fire - or worse, go back to what she'd been doing with him previously… "Did you need something, Tonks? Why did you come looking for me?" I ask, pulling on her arm to position her facing away from the easily burned portraits.

Tonks gives Sebastian one last lingering threatening look, before she slides her wand back into its holster, and focuses on me, a mischievous look appearing on her face that instantly sets me on guard.

"What?" I ask cautiously.

"I have been deputized!" Tonks says mock solemnly, grasping me by the shoulders, "To escort you post haste to the victory party."

Of course… I sigh, but my lips twitch into a reluctant smile, of course my friends would want to celebrate our success. "Alright, deputy Tonks, lead on." I say, because what else can I do?

I'm not going to ruin the mood of all my friends by pointing out how this victory was only the first step in a new war, one we couldn't possibly win as we were. Too young by far, and facing people with real political power. Divination is only a slight advantage, one that can't overcome everything.

So I smile, dropping my pessimistic outlook for now, meeting Tonks cheerful gaze straight on, "I assume there's cake?" I ask, drawing a more genuine smile from the older girl.

"Of course! And I'll even do you a favor and not spell it into your face, baby raven!" She teases, as she leads me out of the Undercroft.

She's joking, but I actually feel better knowing she's not going to prank me the second I step inside, I think, purposefully trying to drag my thoughts away from Quirrell and the muggleborn law.

I can't wait for this year to be done, so I can focus on magic and the mysteries of Hogwarts - instead of all these crazy things.

Yeah right… Like next year is going to be nice and calm… I think to myself.

I'm going to be a horrible partygoer at this rate…

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Despite the party only consisting of my friends - which means no golden trio - I still find myself at the periphery, squeezed into a couch between Padma and Su, both seemingly equally against the loud chatter between Hannah, Susan and Tonks.

Poor Neville, seemingly not having the courage to slink away, is stuck in-between them, looking a little harried as the girls loudly debate fashion and other girly things I just couldn't find myself willing to suffer through. Friendship has its limits - and fashion and design is rapidly becoming mine.

"Well… At least he'll be trained up already if he marries a fashion obsessed girl." I point out to my seatmates dryly, nodding at the increasingly forlorn looking Neville at the table.

All the snacks and the cake were there at the table, but the rest of us had abandoned the food for a more sedate pace at the edge of the training room, although with the couch having been conjured by Tonks… Odds were we'd soon find it disappearing on us.

Su giggles slightly, covering her mouth, "He could marry your sister, Padma." She teases gently.

Padma wrinkles her nose, "No thank you, I wouldn't let a friend walk into hell like that." In true Ravenclaw fashion - she's brought a book to the party.

"Hell is a bit of a strong word." I say, before raising my hand defensively as Padma turns her head slowly, glaring at me with an utterly serious expression, "Okay, Parvati is utter hell, stop giving me the demon eyes!" I plead.

Su giggles again, eyes glittering with mischief as she watches us both, "Lucas would be a good fit for Parvati instead, right?"

Padma and I give her equal looks of disgust, as I move to nix the direction this conversation is heading, "We're first years, stop with the marriage talk, it's painful."

"What? So my sister isn't good enough for you, is that it?" Padma interjects, drier than a desert. My consternation only lasts long enough to turn around, before I see her face and realize she is just messing with me now too, I slump slightly in my seat.

"This is what I get for befriending mostly girls, Neville never teases me about marriage prospects…" I grumble, only half faking it.

I yelp as I receive a pinch to the arm from Padma, even gentle quiet Su - giving me a look like I deserve it. I rub my arm, meeting Padma's stern gaze, "Alright, I get that one, but next time I'll hex you." I say, kind of deserving that pinch, this time.

"You need to sit back and relax." Padma says decisively, pushing me gently to make me slouch deeper into the couch, "With everything you're doing and how you're acting - you're starting to seem as old as the professors."

Something I've noticed myself, I think, having evolved far from the silliness of first entering the magical world, my Legilimency sessions assisting in knocking loose more of my old memories and personality - fixing the damage I've done to myself.

Su nods seriously, her eyes still having that slight mischievous spark as she pipes in, "Sometimes I almost reply back with a sir, when you speak." She teases me, sharing a companionable look with Padma.

"If you don't watch out I'll give you homework too." I threaten lightly, smiling as Su laughs at the idea, even Padma cracking a smile, albeit a brief one.

"So, how are things in Ravenclaw? Improving?" I ask carefully, not wanting to ruin the good mood, but my active mind refuses to leave something alone.

Su doesn't look too bothered by it, shrugging lightly, pulling her knees up to her chest, putting her arms around her legs, not exactly selling it with the body language there Su… I think.

"They're not bad, it's alright…" She says after a moment of thinking it over, leaning her head down to rest it on her knees, looking over at me and Padma, "I have Padma, and you guys, so it's not like I'm lonely."

I nod, taking it all in, glancing at Padma with an inquisitive eyebrow raised, "And now for the complete unvarnished truth… Padma, how are things in Ravenclaw?" I ask, smirking as Su smashes a tiny fist into my shoulder on that side, offended I didn't take her word for it.

Padma smirks, putting her book down, carefully ensuring her bookmark is placed, before eyeing me and Su, "Su is mostly not lying." She says matter of factly, some distaste slipping into her tone as she continues, "Some of the others are still fairly openly antagonistic to us, for the same stupid reason as before." She didn't seem overly bothered by it, neither did Su, so it must be limited to attitude then, not active bullying or slurs.

If they were… I will protect my friends…

I shake my head though, at the moronic logic of racists everywhere - like Padma and Su being of Indian and Asian heritage mattered when it came to magic! "I bet they're taking it well then that the two of you top Ravenclaw firsties in the rankings." I quip, getting a proud smile out of both my Ravenclaw friends.

Class rankings were of great importance to Ravenclaws, and as smart as the two girls already were - our study group encapsulated all the subjects, which led to them greatly eclipsing the other students in their house.

Except for Neville and Hannah, our group tops everything in the class rankings, although Neville and Hannah did crack the top ten when it came to Herbology - if by cracked I mean they took the two top spots after me.

I do have kind of an advantage, although I have no doubt Neville will shoot far ahead of me by the time we graduate, the boy really has the green thumb that I lack - I just have superior study techniques and an adult mind (mostly) that beats out his knowledge and skills at this level.

Hermione is the only one that really manages to compete with Padma, Su and Susan. I'm of course out of reach of any of them, but even with that, Hermione hadn't caught up until she too had joined the study group.

"Oh, they're taking it very well." Padma says, breaking me out of my thoughts, a sly little smirk on her lips, "Apparently you're cheating and supplying us with all the answers."

I blink, taken aback, glancing at Su for confirmation and getting a slight nod and a quiet giggle from the girl. "I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart?" I say, somewhat bewildered at the leaps of logic the little brats are making, "We don't even share all the classes, how am I supplying you with answers in the classes I'm not around, do they figure?" I ask, honestly curious what logic they used to defend their supposition.

"Divination!" Both girls chorus, drawing a chuckle out of me. Because honestly, I definitely could provide them with test answers in advance like that - so the little brats were actually kind of right, even if they were totally wrong.

"Hey, you bookish nerds don't get to sit by yourself all day, come eat cake!" Tonks shouts, waving her wand threateningly at the cake, giving them all the idea that if they didn't come to the cake - the cake might come to them.

I stand up, pulling Su and Padma up with me, "I know you're jealous of our intelligence, Tonks, there's no need to shout it out for everyone."

The cake I got to the face was worth the offended look on hers.

I regret nothing.

Besides the giggles it drew from my friends, and the happy smiles all around, were great.

It felt good, felt like this year might actually be more than dangerous enemies and magic.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Hours later, Hufflepuff common room.

"My Nan is going crazy because of you, Lucas." Neville moans, as he slumps over the table we've taken at the far edges of the common room, the more prime spots near the large tree in the middle of the room, taken up by older students.

"We'll, I'll consider that a success." I reply glibly, Hannah giggling as Neville gives me a dirty look.

"I'd think she'd be happy that we all managed to get her on the committee for the muggleborn expansion?" Susan asks, tilting her head curiously, "Is she upset at you for helping?" She queries.

The muggleborn expansion… Well… Sounds better than muggleborn re-education I suppose, I think with distaste, even as I pay attention to my friends.

"Yes, no, maybe, I don't know." Neville groans piteously, resting his cheek on the cool surface of the wooden table.

"Well as long as you're absolutely certain…" Hanna says dryly, lips still twitching.

"Hannah, be nice." Susan says absentmindedly, swatting her shoulder gently, "I don't understand though, the dice said she'd be a good choice?" Her eyes sought out mine, the question hanging in the air for me to pick up on.

I ignore it, because I have no idea if this particular point was erroneous in its prediction, or if this is just silly drama from Neville, therefore I poke the boy himself, "Neville, mate, what exactly is she complaining about?" I ask.

"Everything… All the extra work, the fact they already had a deal in place that they now had to rip up and renegotiate… When I made the mistake of telling her in a letter that I helped with the Daily Prophet campaign…" Neville sighs, looking confused yet pleased at the same time, "She told me she was proud of me… Then she railed at me for three whole pages on how many difficulties I've created for her."

The rest of us exchange a look, I'm not even sure what to say, really. The Dowager Longbottom is one bitchy battle axe - and apparently incapable of just telling Neville good job - without adding a caveat.

Susan, thankfully steps in with the right move at the right time, reaching over to squeeze Neville's hand, "Good job, Neville, she's proud of you, that's all that matters." She says kindly, her gaze warm.

Hannah immediately jumps on the same trail, "Yeah, she's definitely seeing how good you're doing in Hufflepuff, she hasn't said anything bad about the house lately, yeah?" Before Neville can open his mouth and say anything to dispute that view, Hannah rushes on, patting him on the shoulder, "So just look at the positives!"

With how hard and enthusiastically she's patting his shoulder, I almost hear an or else, in that. As for myself, I simply smile at Neville, giving him a thumbs up.

Neville has reddened slightly during this entire flush of positivity, but he smiles, "Thank you, you're right, she did say she is proud of me, that's what matters!" He lifts off the table, only to faceplant right back into it as one of Hannah's enthusiastic pats slap down a bit too hard - drawing laughs out of all of us, even Neville, as Hannah giggles her apologies.

"Divination is a lot cooler than I had thought, though." Susan brings up, eyes sparkling a little as she makes excited gestures in the air in front of her, "Just… Throwing some dice and seeing the future. And it works!" She exclaims excitedly.

Hannah snorts, shaking her head, "Don't get Lucas started." She warns, giving me a teasing look.

I cross my arms and scoff, "You say that, but who did I catch rolling dice this morning and asking the likelihood of Cedric Diggory going out with her?"

Seriously, is it a magical world thing? Why are people so obsessed with crushes, love and dating? Maybe I just don't remember being a kid… I think, rolling my eyes as Hannah blushes beet red, Susan gently ribbing her for getting caught out, or asking for the result, who knows with girls.

" My dice…" I add, raising an eyebrow inquisitively at her.

Hannah squirms, fending off Susan who's got a large grin on her face and is pressing up against Hannah whispering and giggling about something. "I don't have them anymore. N-not that I did what you said, I was asking something d-different!"

"Then who has them?" I ask, somewhat bemused at how quickly the Divination bug had hit my friend circle. So opposite the golden trio who'd broken off rather than keep trying with it.

Their loss, considering Harry's potential issues over the next couple of years - he could have really used an edge. Or let's be honest, Hermione could have used one - since she's the one who'd do the work and then manage Harry as best as she could.

Neville fumbles with something at his waist, before bringing up my little baggie of dice, handing them to me, with an apologetic look, "Sorry, Lucas… Someone…" He gives Hannah a weak glare, one that gets watered down even more as she just cheerily smiles back at him, "Told me you had lent them out for the day."

I play with the dice in my hand, pouring them out of my bag, an amused smirk on my face, "I wasn't aware taking them when I'm not looking is borrowing now."

"Aggressive borrowing?" Hannah says/asks sheepishly.

I roll my eyes, "Just ask next time, or better yet get your own, they'll work better."

"I'll buy you some for your birthday, Hannah!" Susan says, an impish look to her.

Hannah gasps as if mortally wounded, "You can't tell me what you are getting for my birthday, that's like, ruining the magic."

I roll some dice between my fingers, "I could tell you exactly what you're getting…" I tease, in deadpan.

Honestly, this whole new thing with outsourcing Divination is really a terrible, yet amazing idea.

It wouldn't work without the strong belief they have in it through me and seeing me work it, but because it works - it has so many benefits it's staggering.

I know shit is going to fly as we get closer to the end of the year, the advantages in being able to ask several questions daily - and get a prediction, is just priceless.

Yes, it won't be entirely as accurate as myself doing it all, as I've noticed during these past few weeks of doing it with them all. But even an 80 percent reliability that can then be substantiated with my own use…

Game changer.

Divination might truly become my one saving grace for this year. The one thing that will pull me through whatever Quirrell will do.

And it's a bit humbling… That it will only work in the first place because of how much faith my friends have in me, in what I'm saying, in my interpretation of the magic.

Friendship is magic, confirmed?

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Two days later.

I admit to being a little bit evil at times. Like right now, walking with Su up the stairs to the Astronomy tower.

I have her dainty hand in mine, the girl blushing furiously as we walk hand in hand through the halls and up the stairs. For me, it is simply a matter of trying to draw her out a little bit more, albeit I admit I also enjoy teasing her. She is cute when she gets all tomato red, after all. They were all cute kids really, I think, feeling old again. I've had years to get used to being young, but it never quite settles completely.

My own brain scramble hadn't helped any.

There's always small things that just throw you off, or brings up a memory that jars with my body or current feelings. More so now that some of my own old memories are starting to trickle through again.

"So… You really want to try Divination out? You enjoyed the work we did over the last few weeks?" I ask the diminutive girl.

Su nods shyly, "It's really interesting, and how it intersects with math and probability is kind of exciting."

I chuckle wryly, "Such a Ravenclaw answer." I tease, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm definitely happy to help you or give pointers, Divination is an amazing form of magic that isn't given enough credit."

Considering most of the wizarding world thought of it as the tool of charlatans and not real magic - the reputation of the subject probably couldn't be much lower than the last few decades.

Not counting prophecies, because apparently, even with the low belief in Divination - people believed in those. As usual, wizards and witches made absolutely no sense.

"Why are we going up to the Astronomy tower?" Su asks inquisitively, peering up at me from underneath long eyelashes, her demure expression only reminding me of her capabilities to be quite explosive when she needed to be - earning the nickname spitfire that she got from her mom.

I look upwards, almost able to picture the room that would afford us an unhindered view of the stars. "The stars and celestial bodies have an influence on Divination, especially Divination rituals. I figured I could teach you a small one just to show you what you can learn with this magic, and to see how well suited you are to it."

I also want to have Professor Sinistra around, believing she will approve of this due to its connection to Astronomy. The last thing I need is someone believing I'm corrupting poor Su with evil rituals or something. Professor Sinistra, in our brief talks when we'd meet in the Astronomy tower - seems much more chill about magic, then say McGonagall, will be.

Su squeaks in excitement, hand clasping tighter around mine, "A ritual!? You're going to show me a real ritual?"

I smirk at her, pleased at her obvious excitement at new magic, "No… You're going to perform a ritual, I'm just helping you through the steps."

Su looks nervous but determined as she nods, concentrating on moving up the staircase, no doubt not wanting to ask too much before we get there.

We climb the stairs in silence for a moment, before Su can't contain herself, "What kind of ritual? Is it even legal? Of course it's legal or we wouldn't do it, but… Is it? Do we need reagents, was I supposed to bring reagents? What if I mess it up?"

I laugh at the barrage of questions, continuing up the stairs as I squeeze her hand comfortingly, "You have nothing to worry about, Su, it's legal, everything we need is already there, it's just a minor ritual, and you won't mess it up, I promise."

I kind of like having a protege even if it's a bit early to call it that. Divination is just so… Wonderful and not even fully explored, it's just nice to share it with someone else, someone new. "Just believe and that's half the battle won, and I believe in you too, Su, so there's all the battle won, eh?" I say, a bit campy maybe, but it gets a cute blush, so I consider it a win.

"Now this is just adorable." We both hear, as our heads jerk up to the top of the stairs, where Professor Sinistra is standing, arms crossed, an amused smirk on her face.

"Professor Sinistra!" We both chorus, Su blushing even worse, her hand slipping out of mine as she squirms on the spot.

"I knew I'd get two students excited about the synergy between Astronomy and Divination, always a good time for a teacher to see her students push the envelope in search of more knowledge - but I hadn't expected you two to be so cute about it!" From the smirk on her face widening and the wink she gave us, she is totally messing with us, definitely different from her strict standards in class.

She's no McGonagall for sure, probably why she's my favorite teacher… Most days. I give her a look, before I turn and nudge Su, "Don't worry, Su, when we're not in class she's a softy, really."

Aurora's eyes soften as she smiles more genuinely down at Su, "I apologize if my teasing made you uncomfortable, miss Li. I have a more personable rapport with my more exceptional students."

"She means me." I stage whisper, giving Su another nudge, drawing a smile out of her.

"Why don't we go and get set up, the room is ready for you." Aurora says gently, obviously picking up on Su's general shyness. They don't interact much in class from what I know, as Su isn't one to generally need any help or asks questions on a subject - when she can read up on it herself.

Aurora leads us to the space room, the magic surrounding us in the expertly crafted environment both soothing and exciting me as usual. How could one not be thrilled at the surroundings when literal galaxies could be spied around you.

The view in front of us is of some distant planet, swirled in red and yellow colors and spots. Aurora fiddles with the settings for the room for a moment, and both Su and I let out a gasp as the view all around us changes, space drawing back, planets, stars, comets and every wonder of the celestial speeding by us - until we're left looking at a normal night sky, stars twinkling around us.

Su's eyes are wide open as she just takes it all in, an excited trill escaping her, that I'm not sure she even notices, as she looks around with an awed expression on her face.

"Cool, huh?" I ask, jolting her out of it, "Ready to try out some real Divination?" I ask, seeing Aurora step back against the wall quietly, observing but not stepping in, seeing how shy Su had been around her.

"Is cubomancy not really Divination?" Su asked curiously, "I placed an order for my own dice, I… I wanted to keep using it." She admits, and I can't help but feel invigorated that she wants to learn this, because of me. I am making some difference, some positive differences.

"It definitely is." I assure her, my smile stuck to my face at her genuine joy and curiosity at practicing Divination. "It's just the kind where really anyone could do it with a little faith, whereas Divination rituals require a bit more, hence real Divination."

I direct her towards where there's a bowl sitting unassumingly on a desk. I gesture to it, "One thing to know about Divination is that intent is the main factor above all else, coupled with belief…"

"Aguamenti" I call out softly, filling the bowl with clear, magic rich water. "This first time I'm setting it all up for you, and you'll actually do the ritual, but going forward, you'll get better results if your hand takes part in each step."

Su nods, watching intently, "Stars above, silver bowl, clear magic rich water, is this a ritual for scrying?" She asks, having obviously devoured anything she could find on Divination, like a proper little Ravenclaw.

I give her a smile, "In a way yes, not in the way you're probably thinking though, but there are many different ways to scry - this one in particular is for scrying yourself."

"Scrying myself?" Su asks, sounding unsure, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I already know where I am…"

Aurora coughs amusedly in the background, I studiously ignore her and explain it to Su, "Scrying is not only to find someone or something, like many things in Divination its use is multipurpose. For scrying yourself, the purpose is to realize a truth about yourself, nothing too dramatic, just self reflection in a way, with unvarnished magical truth to help you find your way."

Su's eyes light up, "Like tarot cards! They're also about discovering yourself, not about reading someone else's future, right?"

I cough, not wanting to get into a full lecture on Divination or we'll never leave, "In essence, yes, although there are other ways to use Tarot cards as well, but we have something else to do today." I really need to get a proper Tarot deck at some point… I think, having not explored that particular avenue of Divination yet.

As Su prepares for her first minor ritual, Aurora approaches me, with a twinkle in her eye.

"What?" I ask somewhat defensively, before catching myself, coughing lightly again, "I mean, what? Professor…"

She studies me for a moment, eyes almost unfocused, before she smirks slowly, "You could make a good teacher one day, Lucas." She says warmly.

I can feel the tips of my ears burning, "I just regurgitate facts about my favorite subject, it's nothing." I deflect. Staying at Hogwarts forever.. I wouldn't mind it if it calmed down…

She shakes her head, tapping one finger on her wand absentmindedly, "No, you really did well in keeping her on track, soothing any worries and showing your passion, you should think on it, one day you really could make a wonderful teacher."

I eye Su, as she slowly gets into a meditation position in front of the silver bowl, ready for me to come instruct her on the rest of the process. "Maybe." I say, not wanting to think too hard on a future so far away. Or the depressing thoughts about the likelihood of survival that long…

Aurora pats me on the shoulder gently, "I'm really glad you're still coming up here despite passing out of my class, I have my own ritual in mind for the end of the year… Would you mind attending it with me?" She asks, looking at me expectantly.

"Umm, sure…" I say, thrown off a little, because although she's my favorite teacher, she's never really offered much in ways of personal instruction, let alone offering for me to witness a ritual of her own making.

"Splendid, now you better help your pupil before she gets impatient." Aurora says wryly, giving me a little shove towards Su.

I give her another lingering look, before I concentrate on Su.

It might be necessary for my own Divination ritual again, I trust Professor Sinistra as much as I do anyone else really. But walking into someone's ritual unprepared is just dangerous.

I'll have to see what I can Divine.

…

Hours later, after a successful ritual performed by Su, not that the blushing girl would tell me what truth about herself had been laid bare for her - I did my own little probability ritual.

Nothing too fancy, as I still can't perform a vast scrying ritual within Hogwarts due to my previous one, and a lack of reagents.

So I simply scried a simple question, the outcome of attending a ritual with Professor Sinistra?

Using cubomancy with lettered dice didn't work as well for me most of the time, because of how often I used my dice - but this time as I roll, I haven't been using Divination for awhile, my friend circle having been doing it for me, so it should turn out ok.

Death.

Okay….

I suddenly have many more questions…

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

I amble down the hallway towards the History of Magic classroom, feeling ambivalent towards this latest development in my life. I've been invited for tea time again, a regular occurrence these past few weeks - Professor Haywood eager to talk about History of Magic and ancient magical cultures with me.

In one way it makes sense - I likely could teach the class, having gotten better grades then her, the actual professor in the subject. Yet at the same time, like all the other oddities with my existence, there's just something inherently odd in chatting with a professor like this, while being a first year.

Even as I'm wary and suspicious about if there's something else behind this, I still crave the discussions, the almost peer-like adult conversations, albeit in an educational fashion - like it's a soothing balm on my soul after dealing with young children on a constant basis.

I know I am a child as well by all possible metrics, but now that my mind is slowly repairing itself, I don't feel like one.

A couple more weeks of Legilimency on Pettigrew and I might even feel safe to start unraveling some of the Obliviations…

I almost don't want to know what Quirrell is hiding from me - considering how openly horrible he's been as a person. How bad is the stuff he hides I wonder... I shudder briefly, needing to know, but fearing the result. That's future me's problem… Just like whatever horrible thing is going to happen with Professor Sinistra…

I come upon the corner before the last hallway, the one containing the classroom, and I come to a stop, hearing voices, one of which is Professor Haywoods. I don't want to interrupt if she's finishing up a meeting, and part of me is also easily eavesdropping, because I am suspicious of the new professor.

The Professor is practically Tonks age and I consider her an adult, yet I can't quite treat Tonks like an adult despite the similarities in age, she certainly doesn't behave much like one… Also, she certainly does not seem stable. No one so easily agrees to kidnapping and torturing a random stranger, Death Eater or not - for someone else, someone not even a friend for a year - if they're sane.

"Penny, d-don't… Don't say her name again!" I can feel the suffering from here, the tone of voice filled with anger and pain.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, leaning back against the wall. Damn… That is Tonks voice, speak of the devil… I've never heard her so… Cracked before, is that the word? Fragile? An uncomfortable knot takes hold in my stomach, I keep pushing off dealing with this… I'm not a very good friend… I can't help but think, lowering my head as I hear a desperate sob before it's viciously shut down.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the wall heavily. Damn it…

"Tonks… Dora… I'm here for you, I… I know things are different, I'm a Professor now, I know she isn't he-" Professor Haywood seems more hesitant then I've ever heard her, like she's not sure what she's dealing with.

Welcome to my whole year dealing with Tonks. I think, grimly. I should have done more, I can literally feel an aura of despair wafting down the hallway. Why did I keep ignoring her issues? Convenience?

I'm not a first year, not really. I need to stop acting like it.

"DON'T!" Tonks shouts, sounding bloody pissed, "Don't talk about her, she's GONE!"

I can hear the hesitation in Professor Haywoods voice as she replies, "Tonks, we need to talk about this, it's obviously hurting you, I know… We kind of drifted apart a little once I left Hogwarts, but I'm here now, just come into my office, we can talk, sort out your problems and find a good way forward for the rest of the year."

I wince, that sounds perfectly reasonable, and also very Professor-like, exactly the kind of thing I doubt Tonks will care about right now. She needs a friend, not a Professor.

I'm proven correct seconds later as Tonks snarls out a definitive no, and storms off down the hallway, passing by me without even noticing me, tear tracks down her face.

I look towards the hallway that would take me to the Professor and our tea time discussion - and shake my head, I have better places to be. I decide, turning to follow Tonks.

I haven't done a good job of actually being her friend, other than hanging out with her and letting her goof around and have a safe space - I haven't made any effort to really get to know her, help her with her pain. She's obviously dealing with a lot, and because I have been as well, I've let her fall to the wayside, even after she's done so much to help me. Almost died to help me.

My face firms up as I begin to walk faster. No matter what else, what is left of the year, what dangers there are. This takes precedence, I will not let Tonks down! Not again.

What is the point of an adult mind and the knowledge I hold, if I don't use it to help the people around me?

If I don't make the world a better place, make it better for the people around me? Then what even is the point of me being here in this world?

I… Have been a terrible Hufflepuff.

Merlin damned Hat is wrong about me…

Loyal my ass…

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

"Bombarda! Confringo!" Tonks screamed, stabbing her wand forward, uncaring of the destruction she was wreaking to her favorite training room. It would be fixed or it wouldn't, what did it even matter anymore, anyway?

Her voice cracked as she tried to cast another Bombarda, the spell fizzling out at the tip of her wand. Her chest heaved with desperate breaths, her sweat soaked robes clinging to her form, maybe she imagined the feeling of its weight pulling her down, or maybe it was the weight of everything pushing, pushing, a neverending force intent to push her down.

Down into nothing, down into dirt.

Tonks allowed herself to fall to the floor in a heap, stifling a sob, her wand rolling away on the floor from her limp fingers. She watched it go, feeling the cracks within herself expanding.

She was so… Tired… Was it even worth it anymore?

She'd been so excited when her wand had chosen her. With Hogwarts to look forward to - it had seemed like such a grand adventure. To meet other people, to have friends! She'd been too young to realize… How they'd been on the edge of society for a reason. The blood traitors and discarded refuse of house Black, banished and ridiculed. There had been a reason her mother had hardly ever let her leave the house until she started Hogwarts.

It had left Tonks far too naive. An incredible failure on her mum's part, what with having been Andromeda Black. So strong and poised, Tonks girlhood idol. And she'd… Just raised Tonks as a stupid little girl with dreams that were impossible!

The joke on her being that in the last year or two, the Blacks had practically died out, whoever wasn't dead was so reclusive it hardly mattered. All which left her mum free to re-enter society again, with only the odd dirty look. Too late for anything to matter for Tonks, of course.

It was always too late for anything to matter with her, too late to help, too late to be helped, too late to save Op-

She violently crushed that thought.

Tonks cackled suddenly, unable to stop, folding in half as she laughed and laughed. Tears flowing in rivulets down her face as she enjoyed the laugh that life had at her expense.

Enjoyed wasn't the right word maybe, but fuck it, she bloody well doesn't have to get it right when she's falling apart… No one would care anyway, not anymore… Not with her failing so badly at covering the cracks, at showing everyone she was fine, just fiiiine, nothing to see!

All she'd ever wanted was friends. That was it really. The only thing. Spending childhood practically alone had been so stifling, with only her own mind as a companion, it had almost been like having a friend - but she'd wanted real friends.

Someone like you doesn't deserve friends… Something whispered inside her.

She took it in as usual, and then ignored it, just cuz it was right didn't mean she had to listen to that part of herself too long.

Hogwarts had been…

Tonks splayed out on the floor, angrily wiping at her face, pushing aside the sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to it, black at the moment, like her mood. she half laughed, half cried as she thought of her damn heritage.

Black was so fitting, the color suited her and her life, all black, all the time - the madness in the family… Was it behind why she was so fucked up? Or was that just a Tonks special?

Hogwarts had been her dream, her saving grace, the magical thing that was going to set her free. She'd have actual real friends and adventure, a life of her own! Fuck Hogwarts! She thought bitterly, at the same time as she felt the deep love she'd always had for the castle, burning deep inside her torn asunder heart - maybe the only thing she had left. Tonks snorted, because that made sense. Fuck Hogwarts, love Hogwarts, I can't even be consistent in my own bloody useless head…

The only constant had been… No… She wouldn't think of her. No. Not anymore. Tonks covered her traitorous eyes. No. Not tears. You're going to be an Auror, grow up you fucking pussy! She thought viciously, tearing at her own hair, the pain soothing in a way.

Her constant need for friendship, companionship… Had… Not gone well for most of her Hogwarts years.

Except… She-who-shall-not-be-named… She'd made friends easily enough at first… Even with many of the purebloods calling her half-breed and mutt and other hurtful things she'd learned to take on the chin. Claiming her metamorphing abilities came from animals of all things.

Ridiculous considering how they coveted the skill at the same time as they disparaged it.

Claiming she's descended from animals at the same time as they offered to breed her in a hunt for a metamorphmagus' child..

What a thing to hear at eleven from seventeen year olds…

Tonks had… Gotten over that… Eventually. It had given her a thicker skin actually. So… Good? She was totally over it. Didn't hurt anymore…

She snorted again, slowly sitting up, curling her arms around herself. Yeah… Good… Sure… She stared unseeing at the far wall. She loved her ability, she really did. Just as much as she hated it.

It saved her and condemned her, hurt her yet healed her. Just like Tonks, the damn power she had couldn't make up its mind if it was useful - or just pain and suffering pretending to be something else.

The staff had been helpful over the years, stopped most of it before it got too bad, but there was just no way to stop it all, not from the older years, the older Slytherins, the ones who didn't care if they got suspended or not - because they didn't need to graduate.

Especially the pureblood girls…

No matter how attentive you were, something would always slip by if someone was determined enough, and the people that enjoyed hurting Tonks, had been very determined, until they reaped what they sowed.

Then… Not so much.

She'd made some progress on friends at least… For all the good that did. She learned to fight bullies, to stand up for herself. Then… Puberty arrived, complicating things even more. And with it, everything changed, even those who didn't want something - would constantly harass her in small ways, thinking she was using her abilities in weird ways. Tonks thanked Morgana, Maeve, Circe and Merlin, that she was a Hufflepuff.

Any other house would have been unbearable, no matter how much the staff stomped down on it. Even some Puffs eventually got on her case. No matter how hard Oph- no… Never mind. Not going there. Nope. Tonks shook her head rapidly.

But she couldn't get it out of her mind this time, she just snuck in, through her defenses - like she always did, except this time she wasn't here!

She let out a keening noise, they'd bonded in blood! How could she break that!? It felt like part of her was torn out! They'd said forever! They'd sworn a magical oath! "H-how, how c-could she!?" She wailed, before she forcefully shut her lips, wordlessly screaming as fingernails tore at her face.

Don't! Don't! Don't say her name! She raged at herself.

No, no, don't think of her… Tonks' mind turned back to examining what got her here, refusing to think of O... Her. Instead thinking of her own life of failures. Always approaching everything with a positive upbeat attitude like a naive fool, always being beaten back by reality, was it any wonder she now lost everyone?

Even Penny left in the end… Now she's back when I'm leaving, maybe she came back because she knew I'd be leaving so she wouldn't have to be around me too long…

Any real friendships turned out to be people using her, eventually. It was never completely overt in the beginning. Just a chink in her armor, everyday, constantly. Chink, chink, one more piece of her armor plied away, more nasty comments. Hexes from jealous girls, worse from horny boys.

Fuck, even worse from horny girls. Just because she could sprout a cock didn't mean she wanted to on request, or did it to rut with animals as they suggested. The girls hurt more than the boys most days back then. She could ignore the boys, for the most part, sometimes it required some hexes... The girls knew how to stab deep and twist. And no hexes could defend from that.

So many got suspended, some got expelled even, but it didn't remove it from Tonks mind, didn't erase the comments she couldn't forget, even if they were now gone - even if it wasn't happening the same this year - she could never forget it, she repeated it everyday, she wasn't allowed to forget it!

The purebloods especially got bad back then. Half jealous of her powers, half believing she wasn't even human for having them, coming from an outcast and a mudblood as she was…

Then…It had all come to…

Tonks shut her eyes, banging a fist against her head harshly. No, no, no, no! She wouldn't remember that. A flash of green, no, no, no! She let out a sob, so alone. She was never supposed to be alone anymore… And now she was so, so alone.

Broken. So many pieces. She'd cracked. She'd put herself together again, with help. But the cracks still showed. She couldn't be whole. Not again. Not ever. There was no Nymphadora Tonks. Not anymore. Only Tonks. She's what's left…

That shitty useless part that couldn't handle all the stress, why was she still around?

She'd decided to become an Auror. At least… She'd do something worthwhile. And well… Aurors got to die heroically didn't they?

Probably the best she could hope for, innit?

Her face twisted in sorrow and agony, No matter what… Her mind just kept coming back to… Ophie! Why!?

Dumbledore did something! She swore to herself, those meetings in the summer…

Her heart broke all over again. No… I can't blame Dumbledore… It's me. It's always been me. I ruined it. My fault.

The door suddenly opened, drawing Tonks out of her spiraling depressive introspection, an instinctive morph transforming her into a version of herself that wasn't a mess of snot and tears, as she sat up properly, collecting her wand, quickly aiming a silent scourgify at herself to get rid of any leftover signs of tears and such.

"Lucas?" She asked, seeing the firstie enter, feeling like a breath of fresh air was introduced to the room. Lucas! He was still her friend wasn't he? Tonks still had someone. He hadn't even shied away when some of her cracks had shown.

Well not too much, she could pretend he didn't even notice, really. She was good at pretending most times.

She could… She could pretend to be okay, she did in the summers, it would work out. It had to.

She'd done so well pretending at the beginning of the year. But then she'd been with… Her. Now she was alone.

She wasn't supposed to be alone! Something deep within her cried.

She scrambled to her feet, putting up a confident smirk, "Wotcher, Lucas, whatcha doing sneaking out at this time?" She winked exaggeratedly, "Spying on the hot older girls, huh? Can't say I blame you."

She still had Lucas… Still had mum and dad.

She… She could still do this.

Not be alone.

Never alone.

A flash of sickly green flashed in her memories again as she stiffened imperceptibly, refusing to show Lucas how weak she was.

Even if she deserved it.

Alone forever and ever and ever!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Author's note:

Might feel like too much focus on Tonks, but she graduates soon, so while she'll be around, she won't be a every chapter kind of person so her story needs to bleed out a bit through this first year, giving her a large part.

So…. This has been coming for a while with Tonks, mostly a more lighthearted chapter this, before the end anyway, but it doesn't mean the darkness in the background of this world doesn't poke its head out now and then.

If anyone hasn't noticed previously. There's something seriously wrong with Tonks.

And Lucas is her steadying force, now that Ophelia is gone.

Where's all the magical therapists when you need them?

And before anyone asks, no the professors do not know she's this messed up, (although they know some she's been through) she's a metamorphmagus' - she's been very good at covering up her expressions in public.

Like I've said previously, the so-called black madness plays its part too.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus

Took forever due to a combination of writer's block and work deciding that free time wasn't really necessary this past week.

This story has a tragedy tag, and although this chapter doesn't show anything too horrific, the description of events in Tonks past, however brief, lays out something horrific that many have no doubt guessed at while being light on details.

This story will always be dark, so if anyone still reading simply doesn't want to have those dark events popping up, don't continue reading, as we get into other books after this year finishes, people will die, war and war crimes will happen at the very least - it will remain dark.

But at least it can only go upwards for Tonks and Lucas after this.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Harry was having mixed feelings about this whole magic thing.

On the one hand - magic.

Something which didn't lose its luster even as time went by, the mythical surroundings never failing to draw a sense of awe out of him.

Hogwarts was more than he could have ever even dreamed of, more than any fantasy castle he could have read about - it was real.

It was hard to remember at times that he was actually waking up in this place everyday, each morning for the first few months he'd had a pang of utter relief upon waking up, seeing that he hadn't dreamed it all.

He'd also made actual friends. Even if he felt guilty now, for replacing Ron with Brian. He couldn't do anything to help Ron or his family though - all the Weasley's were gone from Hogwarts, and Harry didn't even know where they lived.

The helplessness in not being able to do anything about the situation, was the biggest blot on the otherwise magical experience Hogwarts was.

The magic of Hogwarts was not even able to compare to another kind of magic.

Friendships.

In the end, he had friends! Even if they were… More goal oriented than himself? Was that a polite way to phrase it?

No doubt Hermione would correct him for the correct phrasing if she could read minds. He shuddered briefly at the thought, glancing at the studious Gryffindor out of the corner of his eye.

As usual, she was curled up with a book. And as usual, it was likely heavier than all of his combined, with tiny neat text that made your eyes want to shrivel up and die. Harry knew better than to disturb her once she really got into a book.

Her becoming a mind reader…

If she could do that, it would be very bad indeed. She was a great friend, terrific even, but Harry wasn't blind to her more… Excessive personality traits.

He couldn't argue with his grades though, just hanging around with Hermione had forced him to focus above and beyond what he'd have done on his own, he was sure.

He didn't play around as much now, not as he used to do with Ron… Chess just didn't hold any interest if it wasn't his friend trouncing him. Even flying felt bleak now, no Weasley's around to poke fun or egg him on.

Of course, without the Weasley's they were also getting trounced, no one had been able to replace the pair as beaters.

He'd made new friends, something which still astounded him, because he knew he was just bad at making friends, either too hesitant or too headstrong, all at the wrong times.

And Brian was alright too… It's just. He wasn't Ron, which was really unfair to him. He didn't deserve to be compared like that.

But Harry couldn't help it. He still missed Ron.

If anything Brian was more like Hermione, if Hermione was too shy to speak very often. Leaving Harry as the new Ron of the group, the one reminding them to actually have fun once in a while.

Brian was, even more than Hermione - the quintessential bookworm - preferring books to socializing. Something which made Harry wonder at times how on earth the quiet boy got into Gryffindor at all.

Everything about him seemed to say Ravenclaw, down to how he liked books a lot more than people.

Apparently their fathers had been best mates, something which the shy boy had shared after Ron disappeared. Harry had been thrilled and eager to find out stories about his parents.

To find any tie to his parents, of whom he knew very little.

Even though a tiny part of him had raged that this supposed friend had certainly never checked in on Harry.

However, like with so much else, it ended in disappointment. Brian didn't know much else other than that fact, his father Remus Lupin having disappeared from his life several years before he started Hogwarts.

It was depressing how often the information he found out was so bad. His parents died. Most of his parents' friends, guess what? Dead. His godfather in Azkaban he'd found out, condemned for over forty deaths.

Although for whatever reason a lot of his information was not to be found, he'd only been able to find that much at all, thanks to Hermione and Lucas.

Harry had kept a polite tongue about Brian's dad, but inside he had wondered. His own parents had died. They had an excuse. But Brian's dad had just gone. Left him. Who could do such a thing? And how was someone like that best mates with his dad?

Everyone else was dead, or in his godfather's case, just as well. But Remus Lupin had left.

In Harry's opinion it made him just as bad as the Azkaban inmate.

He'd drawn Brian into their little group after that, their golden trio as some of the older years jokingly called them. It was better than the other nickname, Potter's bookworms…

Sometimes Harry wondered why he was in Gryffindor. The house was markedly less jovial without the Weasley twins around - almost bullying in nature at times.

Bullying was not something he was happy to see was perfectly the same, magical or muggle.

Which brought his thoughts over to the not so great things about coming into the magical world…

Snape and Quirrell were both obviously evil, and everyone just allowed it. They weren't even hiding how horrible they were.

Anyone in the muggle world acting that way would get tossed on their rear, but in the magical world it was okay…?

Sure Quirrell was finally suspended for a bit, after spending a whole semester being creepy and evil to everyone's face. It didn't give Harry much hope for the rest of this semester. For a castle with so many supposed defenses against bad things happening - it sure had a lot of bad things happening.

The Cerberus came to mind. Hagrid being a half giant raising monsters to attack the students… Whatever had blown up a classroom, and all the other minor things that kept happening.

And then there was… Lucas Greenwood.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the other boy, but he was wary. And he definitely didn't trust him, even if he had started out liking the other boy just fine.

Something was just… Off.

He was at times too adult, at times too childish, and apparently super smart, and at times (in Harry's opinion) also super dumb. He confused the bloody hell out of Harry on a regular basis.

People spent so much time paying attention to Harry, that hardly anyone ever noticed how much he was paying attention to them.

It was weird how his fame almost made him invisible at times. How people stared, but didn't see.

Lucas certainly helped, managing to constantly draw attention in a way that brought Harry out of the limelight.

He'd helped out, which Harry appreciated. The study group as well helped him keep on top of his studies in a less nagging way than Hermione - and Lucas' tips on magic and dueling were helping Harry grow better at magic everyday.

Harry definitely found it easier to will his magic into the proper forms than thinking the complicated things Professor McGonagall wanted him to - so that Lucas had helped him with more than he'd known.

It was also nice hanging out with people from other houses, seeing how they acted and comparing it to the Gryffindors, trying to see if he himself was normal. Also trying to match Lucas to his housemates to see if it was just Hufflepuffs that were insane.

Because how had no one else noticed the other boy was just full on cracked?

He was so bloody confusing and fake, that's the word Harry had been looking for the entire time. Fake. Like he was just masquerading as a student, like he was humoring them whenever they said something he found cute.

Even when he hung around his friends, it was like something different then when Harry hung with his friends. Some unspoken seniority, that Lucas was just above them.

The way Neville would defer to him sometimes made Harry uncomfortable. One of the reasons he'd begun to distance himself a little.

The whole passing out of classes thing said enough, even if Harry tended to avoid mentioning it where he could, the subject never failing to push Hermione into a studying frenzy. Harry apparently was one of the only ones that wondered how?

Sometimes he might have wondered if being magical took away common sense - if he didn't see the same in Hermione, who never questioned the how to the same extent Harry did.

He'd seen Hermione study, and she was the smartest person he knew. And she was nowhere near ready to pass seventh grade classes. So how did Lucas do it in several classes, in one semester?

And why did everyone accept it like it just made sense!

Harry just couldn't fully trust Lucas at this point. So he'd gently nudged his friends to drop their time training with Lucas. To limit their visits to the study groups. He wasn't sure what was going on with the other boy…

But he trusted his gut.

Something was definitely messed up with that guy.

Seriously messed up.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

I don't even know where to begin to deal with the issue I'm now faced with.

I smile weakly, nodding along, as Tonks keeps blathering on about something unimportant, just filling the air with noise to try and distract me from how bad she's getting on.

The fact she isn't even noticing how fake my smile is, how worried I am, tells me a lot about her state of mind, and none of it is good.

Her chirpy pleasant attitude that she put on when I entered, breaks apart the further she has to try and maintain it after her breakdown, I don't even think she can maintain it any longer, she's probably reached a breaking point and that is what I walked in on.

I'm not in any way equipped to deal with mental illness or trauma, I'm bloody better than a normal eleven year old, fine, but I'm still no therapist.

Yet I'm left as the only one to fix this, because right now, Tonks doesn't have anyone else at Hogwarts to help her.

Not anyone I can trust anyway. And if she trusted any of them, wouldn't she have gone to them for help?

I wince as her words trail off, as her eyes grow dim, her mind seemingly not able to continue to even pretend to care anymore.

Professor Haywood is her friend, but with how the year has gone, I'm extremely wary about trusting a professor, especially with her interest in me.

Sure, it could be entirely because I'm also highly interested in magical history, just like her. But I just don't trust it. Even if she's young for a Professor, I'm eleven, almost twelve… She should not be as friendly as she is, right? It's weird.

So trusting her with Tonks, when for all intents and purposes they seemed to have lost contact after Professor Haywood graduated…

She must have known something was wrong with Tonks, this all can't have started this year - and she didn't reach out, didn't help before.

No, I'm not putting any faith in that, I'll deal with it myself. I resolve myself to this avenue, especially as I see Tonks go completely silent, not able to even pretend to hold a conversation anymore.

I eye Tonks, a plan forming in my mind, I'm not a therapist, but I'm a dab hand at magic and rituals, and a budding Legilimency adept. Surely I can craft something to help her?

And a letter to her parents… I need to let them know what's going on, I can't believe they're completely ignorant.

Yet… Tonks has received no help that I could see, and that horribly toxic relationship with Ophelia that seemed to have set this all off to this level, must have been at least tacitly approved by Tonks parents - because they've apparently been around each other since year one.

I'll send them a letter… But I'll still go ahead and try and help her myself. Counting on them, when they've let it get this bad in the first place… No, If this world has shown anything, it's that I can't afford to trust too easily, I think, biting my nail as I watch Tonks briefly speak up again, describing a Quidditch match from her fourth year, her eyes somewhat glassy, I don't think she even recognizes where she is right now, just… Talking.

She's so out of it she's not even recognizing as her morphing slowly transforms her vibrant look to a more mousy, dark look, her hair flopping lifelessly in thin strands, it's like watching a human full of vibrancy and life, transform into a corpse in front of me.

Right… It's partly my fault for not doing anything to help before now, I got to fix this. I think, standing up, grabbing Tonks by the elbow and jostling her gently. "Tonks, let's go to the Undercroft, I think we can do some great magic together."

Fuck school, fuck classes, I'm bloody doing this…

Detention isn't the end of the world.

Well… As long as it's not back with Quirrell.

Or with Professor Sinistra who apparently is going to perform a ritual that will kill me if I go to it, (still need to figure out what the hell?) Or Professor Haywood and her suspicious interest in me… Professor Snape, who likes mind rape a little too much…

I should not have this many professors that are risky to be near, it's a damn school! Bloody hell the magical world sucks huge giant balls!

Tonks blinks slowly, eyes becoming more focused, "Lucas…?" She murmurs, turning her head almost mechanically my way, in an eerie way that sends shivers down my spine, "Yes… Lucas?"

"Tonks, let's get you to the Undercroft, hmm? Bother Sebastian a bit, study some cool magic, what do you say?" I say with forced cheerfulness, tugging gently at her elbow, trying to get her moving.

Tonks nods, allowing herself to be pulled up, her face entirely too slack, she can't even fake it anymore. Either that or she trusts me enough to allow herself to break apart fully in front of me now, which makes me feel so much worse, because I have in no way been a good enough friend to have her trust me so.

I gently lead her with me, thankful that the Undercroft is so close to the training room that it won't take long to traverse the distance. The fugue state Tonks has sunk into would not go over well with any of the professors, and I find myself unwilling to trust that they can even deal with it. I've certainly seen no sign of them doing anything to help Tonks, even through all the Ophelia garbage, and whatever the hell happened to have her disappear from Hogwarts.

Of course that is the time Hermione bloody Granger has to be randomly walking down the corridor.

By herself at least, but still, why the bloody hell is she here, of all places?

How am I this unlucky?

Why? Merlin, why? Was I horrible in a past life? Is that why this kind of shit keeps bloody happening? I think, regretting my actions even as I perform them, pulling my wand out and firing off a stunning spell, intoning it quietly. Hermione's eyes only having time to widen minutely, her mouth already open on its way to call out a greeting.

I wince as she topples to the floor, some books falling out of her hands, Oh, I'm going to be paying for that… I can't help but think.

Perhaps she had been coming to ask for more training, the trio had tapered off a bit.

She sure picked a bloody shit time to decide to do so…

Tonks doesn't even notice, staring mindlessly ahead, tears running down her face without her notice, her mind lost elsewhere again.

I have studied enough on the mind due to needing Legilimency to fix my own, I'm now well aware how dangerous any mental illness or heavy depression is for someone who has the capability to alter reality through their will.

It's really given me a whole different outlook on some of the things I had read once. Perhaps Bellatrix Lestrange, once Bellatrix Black, never stood a chance. Not once the pressure of her family, the war and the Death Eaters all pressed in at once - on a teenage girl with a predisposition for mental illness in the so-called Black curse.

Not so much a curse, I suspect, as much as a genetic predisposition. One too many times fucking a cousin perhaps.

With magic, a broken mind might be a more powerful mind, more easily able to bring magic into reality, to alter what they wish - but as Bellatrix had shown, it did not make for a witch that is capable of using her mind for anything else then destruction.

I will not allow Tonks to get to that point.

Entering the Undercroft, I gently steer Tonks into one of the armchairs. I'm not surprised that she simply sits down, staring at nothing, seemingly lost.

I march over to the portraits, ignoring Sebastian who - props to him - actually seems worried about Tonks state. I only have eyes for Ominis Gaunt however.

I no longer can afford to wait and appease him, slowly building up some measure of trust.

I need resources now, not whenever he pleases.

"Release the library to me." I order him sharply, gesturing back towards Tonks, "You've kept me from it to prevent harm in your view, well right now keeping me from it is causing harm, she needs my help."

Ominis shook his head, a pitying expression on his face, "And why can't the professor's help? Wizards and witches with no doubt centuries of experience between them?" He queries, already ready to shoot down my request.

I grit my teeth, keeping back my explosive response, knowing Ominis won't be convinced by bluster or threats. I take a deep breath, before I continue in as calm of a voice as I can manage, "That's all well and good, if the Professor's haven't already cocked up almost everything this year…" Before Ominis can reply, I push further. "And that's beside the point anyway, what exactly will her life look like?"

"Pardon me?" Ominis asks, confused by the direction I'm taking it in, which is much better than outright refusal.

Sometimes just throwing someone off balance can win an argument.

I bite down on the opportunity with gusto, "How were mental health issues handled in your time, Ominis, Sebastian?" I ask, determinedly pushing forward without waiting for an answer, the small frown on his face and furrowing of Ominis brows, leading me to believe I'll have better success with this angle. "If she gets official help, she can kiss her dreams goodbye, nowhere will take her after that, and the vaunted Hogwarts Professors will cheerfully kick her out at the end of the year without actually solving anything, because that's what they do."

"He's not entirely wrong on that, Ominis my friend." Sebastian says, an unusually serious countenance to him.

But then he really enjoys Tonks' company. And probably not only because of her habit of appeasing his dirty mind.

Ominis is silent for thirty seconds, before speaking up slowly, as if unsure of his own words, "I can… See some points in what you are saying, Lucas. But you are not in any way better qualified to help, have you not made enough mistakes when it comes to dealings with the mind?"

Sebastian whistles lowly, "Low blow, Ominis, low blow mate."

I keep my anger in check, because he's not entirely wrong. "Surprisingly I agree with you, I'm not qualified." I say, before gesturing at Tonks, who's still sitting unresponsive before our argument, "Leaving her alone in her head right now is not something I can do. So I will either attempt to help her without the resources to maybe succeed, or help her anyway because I won't leave her to suffer on her own!"

Ominis splutters, even as Sebastian claps his hands and chortles out, "How Slytherin of you, Lucas, maybe you're finally learning, eh?"

"That is nonsense! You're asking me to help you in this matter or you'll purposefully harm the both of you?" Ominis manages to get out, his face as shocked as I've ever seen.

"I won't leave her alone to face this, you've told me what happens to people whose minds break, or suffer through severe enough mental trauma - their magic can turn against them, or end up feeding delusions and hallucinations. I will not allow it!" I growl out, desperation ringing out through my voice.

"Even if I allow you to access the resources of the Undercroft that have been held back, you have no guarantee you'll succeed." Ominis warned, looking like he's swallowed something particularly unpleasant.

"You've said it yourself, you've never seen anyone able to handle rituals and divination like I have." I say, eyes hard as I stare his portrait down, "Let me try." My voice breaks slightly as I default to begging, " Please, Ominis!"

"...On your own head it is." Ominis mutters, before speaking in parseltongue, the sibilant hissing coming out sounding almost like a chant, as it reverberates around the Undercroft.

The wards around the more esoteric and illegal tomes in the library flash, as the lingering feeling of death in the room vanishes, the wards no longer keeping me out.

"Hang on, Tonks, I'll find a way." I tell her, before hurrying over to dig through the many ritual tomes.

Finally getting to access the books on Legilimency and high level Divinations, although there isn't much of the last one.

The longer she's stuck sinking into her own head, the more risk she's facing of not managing to get out on her own.

Or breaking completely, becoming a caricature of herself - a new Bellatrix Lestrange.

I didn't step in when Ophelia left, when I knew she needed someone, I decided to stay out of it. More concerned with my own selfish goals.

I decided she could handle it herself, left her alone to spiral further, only giving minimal effort in all the times she sought me out.

And she sought me out a lot. A desperate plea for any kind of friend or help, perhaps. It had always been odd how she attached to me.

For all that she's helped me with, for the support she's given me.

Especially with Pettigrew.

I owe her this.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Hours later,

If I wasn't in the middle of a bit of a time crunch, I could have curled under a blanket and spent weeks with these books.

It was utterly fascinating reading, even if I sometimes had to stop and translate the very old English in some of them.

It also showed just how much actual knowledge had been hidden away by the Ministry of Magic during the ages.

Rituals were not a common thing amongst the magical populace anymore, even to the point of being associated solely with the evil wizards sacrificing people.

History did bring up the fact that early magical societies practiced almost solely ritual magic at first. Something I've read many times while I studied magical history for my tests, and just for curiosity's sake, as I always love learning about it.

But these books… They mention how they did what they did, something notably absent in any historical records the Ministry allowed to be published, or kept publicly now.

No doubt the Department of Mysteries and many Ancient and Noble houses had the knowledge tucked away.

One of the many ways where Muggleborns could never catch up, knowledge wasted, hidden away in libraries where fat purebloods couldn't even be assed to crack open and enjoy them.

Which does make me wonder if Ominis is the actual source of all these books. Because who else could stock this library so well? And the Gaunts did end up destitute and without owning anything of note within just a few decades of Ominis walking the halls of Hogwarts - Ominis who disliked his family and their dark history.

Dislike is probably too simple of a word to encompass his feelings regarding his family.

Something to ask one day, when Ominis is less prickly…

I gently close the book I have been reading, a treatise on ancient Celtic rituals, a read that clarified for me that it is possible to do what I wish. Kind of.

Not safely, unfortunately.

Rituals back then personified the saying of - be careful what you wish for.

You were dealing with the primordial powers of nature and magic. There just isn't a way to make it completely safe.

And there's always a cost.

The more you ask for, the more you pay. And if you want anything done properly, you need to use a magic number. Three would have to do, I would need to dip into actual human sacrifices to do seven or thirteen - an obvious no.

I glance over at Tonks, who's beginning to stir out of her malaise, but still holds that broken look in her eyes. Still not back together enough yet to once again fake that everything is okay.

Am I willing to pay a cost?

Yes.

After she's helped me as much as she's had. After I ignored her plight selfishly thinking it wasn't my problem…

Yes.

I owe her as much, and I can't keep going on hyper focused like I have been, moving forward in magic and life without thinking of the human cost. If I ignore this, how long until I ignore something wrong with another of my friends. Until I sink so deep into magic…

That I come out as Voldemort 2: Divine Reckoning.

I don't consider myself a sacrificing hero of prophecy like Harry Potter, I'm too selfish I think, to ever go that far.

But I am still a Hufflepuff, and I'm loyal to my friends. I can do this, and I have an advantage most of those ritual makers of the past did not.

An intuitive grasp of Divination.

Something which should not only help me make the ritual go smoother, but should allow me to actually find my ways to the optimal outcome.

My hand lays down on the almost illegible cover over the oldest Divination book in the Undercroft library. The desire to take this book for my personal collection is immense, I've never read anything like it.

If anything, all my efforts so far have been wading in the kiddie pool of divination.

Ancient Wizards and Witches went much much further.

Albeit many of their efforts were what is definitely considered dark or outright black, requiring human sacrifices.

I am not quite willing to go that far. But they didn't only have records of those kinds of divination rituals, there were more personal ones.

The ingredients were extremely simple.

My blood. My magic.

I needed a part of myself, to offer a part of myself to fate, to for a moment have the ability to peer through the curtain of everything. Something would irrevocably change, if I went through with this, something in me.

It is a sacrifice above all, you can't get past this point. To go so far as to reach into what would almost be Tonks soul - to help her recover or move past whatever trauma is slowly killing her, you can't perform such deep magic without paying a price.

The fact it's being done for - in a way, love - the love of a friend at least, and the sacrifices I make for that, should limit the consequences for myself.

Everything I read said it wouldn't be lethal, or take my magic, so I feel I am willing to take a leap of faith. Divination has not steered me wrong so far. I can survive anything that's not losing my magic or life.

I can get over any price, I'm sure.

I've read everything I could find, thrice over. It's time to begin.

I gingerly get up from the armchair I have been reading in, stretching protesting muscles, it must be halfway through the night by now, and there is no doubt I'll see detention for a while once I leave the Undercroft.

I glance at Tonks again, it will be worth it. I think, determined.

I clear off a space in front of the portraits, using my magic to clean it until there are no contaminants, muttering under my breath as I charm a simple ward around us to deter dust and such from entering the space during the ritual.

Without runes to hold it, it isn't going to last long, but that's fine, I only need it to last long enough.

Tonks armchair is at the very south pole of the circle, while I will occupy the north. With my wand, I burn the words I've decided on for my plea into the floor around the inside edge of my self imposed circle.

Summoning spells brings me the candles and assorted ritual tools. Because magic thrives on the story. For this ritual, candles don't actually do anything - but the older the book, the more they agree.

Magic evolves through stories.

There's a reason magical societies, magical worlds, so often default to young plucky lost princes slaying the big bad and saving the kingdom/country/castle.

The story has been told enough it's come alive, the flow of the river of magic - so to speak - so often taking its path due to how strongly the stories came alive in society's consciousness.

It's why some stories repeat so much, half of Disney's stories literally come from these, and by telling them - sink the magic deeper into our lives, ensuring they'll happen again, and again.

I briefly imagine one day telling Harry that his suffering and destined face off with Lord Voldemort, likely came about because for hundreds of years people really liked stories about beaten little orphans destined to rise above it all, become a hero, and beat the big bad.

Which is likely how he survived the killing curse. Due to the story. Not some mother's love or whatever Dumbledore preaches.

In a way I'm counting on some assistance in the same manner as another cheaty advantage for myself.

Sacrificing oneself in some manner to save the fair lady is part of a lot of stories through the ages, and should if I'm reading these books right, aid me in my cause.

The fact I'm cheating should hopefully not overly affect anything, as long as I'm still sacrificing something - I'm still sticking to the story.

And magic will not care about the difference of saving Tonks from a dragon - or mental trauma.

At least I hope so.

Merlin, it just struck me how much of the magic I've performed this year has been by flying by the seat of my pants and praying I don't explode…

"You are not a Hufflepuff." Sebastian announces suddenly, as I stand in my cleared off space, surrounded by candles and ritual ornaments, preparing myself.

"What?" I ask him irritably, this is all hard enough, and to be honest, a little bit scary. I don't need any flak right now.

"We need a new house just for you, not even Gryffindors are this insane, you know? I guess the loyalty is Hufflepuffian," He acknowledges with a grimace, before continuing, "But you're seriously going through with this, Lucas? An ad hoc ritual based on thoughts and prayers is madness, utter madness!" He said, unusually serious, his face grim.

"If anyone can do it, it's me." I say, the kernel of doubt within me is growing, as my own doubts and fears are fed by the portraits assertions.

Ominis, who hasn't said a word since opening up the wards for me, speaks up. "I applaud your willingness to assist a friend. I have to add my warnings to Sebastian's however, although mine stem from actual knowledge."

Sebastian glares at the other portrait, "Ominis! Now is not the time for you to finally figure out how to sass me correctly!"

"Say what you mean, Ominis, I don't have time for mind games, I have a date with fate." I say determinedly.

"That's exactly it." Ominis lets out with a huff, "Fate, you're gambling with fate, do you have any idea how ridiculously dangerous that actually is?"

"I've read the books." I say shortly, dismissively. Ominis has barely been willing to help, I should have figured he'd do everything to talk me out of it now as well.

Ominis sighs explosively, "Books! Everything between the sun and earth can't be covered in mere pages, Lucas. Magic is alive. An errand thought of yours could be enough to send this cockamamie ritual somewhere completely different then your intentions." He covers his face with one hand, looking pained, "I can guarantee it's not going to work as you wish it, Lucas. Magic doesn't work on a spreadsheet, not when you're dealing with primordial forces, this will not go as you think!"

"Is it likely to kill me?" I ask, having already gone through the risk factors, deeming it acceptable.

Ominis splutters, "You're talking like simple death is the worst you could encounter!"

Sebastian crosses his arms and leans against the border of his portrait, "Death is pretty bad, though…"

"You know nothing!" Ominis snarls at Sebastian, hand clenching into a fist as he slams it at the side of his portrait uselessly, "When dealing with such as fate you could end up tying your entire bloodline to a task, end up destined for some far off impossible goal, or simply cease to be as fate puppets you towards a task having been given access. You don't know what will happen!" He says insistently, "Lucas, this goes dangerously close to soul magic!"

I take a deep breath, understanding that Ominis is in his own way, trying to look out for me.

"Silencio."

I just can't afford to listen, not right now. I've already decided on my path. Magic hasn't steered me wrong before, I refuse to believe it will puppet me now, not while I'm doing a selfless act for a friend.

If magic is alive, if magic thrives on stories. It will not punish me unduly for this.

Merlin I hope I'm right…

If not? Well I've already lived once before right? Tonks is only in her first life - and probably only life - she deserves some help.

Having silenced the portraits, I levitate a bundle of a herb called Angelica, sometimes also called Archangel. Its spiritual components are supposed to be of protection and healing, perfect for the occasion. It's also tied to courage and vision. Further tying it into my quest today.

"Incendio."

I set it on fire, letting it drop to the ground, the burning incense suffusing the circle, not able to leave due to the ward keeping contaminants out, keeping those inside, in.

I grasp the ritual knife and as calmly as I'm able, I cut a large gouge in my left arm, using my wand to spell the blood all around the circle I've made - specifically over the words I've burned into the floor.

"I need to see the path forward to protect and heal." I mumble, focusing, the candles light up simultaneously, flaring up brightly, taking on a reddish tint.

The smoke I'm breathing in feels like it's strengthening me, even as the bloodloss weakens me.

"Let me see the only way through, the wisest path to harmony." I chant, swirling my wand, drawing the blood to the north and south of the circle, signifying my own position, and Tonks, brushing past each of the words on the floor.

I take a deep trembling breath, the blood almost vibrating. "I give part of me, w-willingly to fate, so that it may lead me to what I seek!"

"Let me divine the truth from the lies, let part of me protect part of her!"

"I sacrifice my essence so that you may judge me true, I sacrifice part of me so that you may weigh the price, I sacrifice myself thrice by vowing to take on the pain and the cost of that which I wish to heal!"

The blood is shining now, and I feel my neck moving on its own, sense more than feel, an unearthly light shining out of my eyes, my head turning to meet Tonks.

The divination part of the ritual kicks in, thousands of visions flowing through me, thousands of ways I could enter Tonks mind, and fuck her up worse, destroy her mind. Thousands of ways I could help just a little, share some of the burden, heal some of the pain.

And one way where I could alleviate it all.

One path forward that would help her!

There!

I am no longer in control, the ritual having taken over, the magic moving on its own. The divination has performed its purpose, finding the one true way to heal Tonks right now, right here at the cost I can afford to bring forward.

Part of me feels relief, knowing that I was right, that I can do this. The other feels fear, having no control of what comes next, having no idea what the cost is going to be to change her fate in such a way.

Healing her from her pain, disrupting the natural order of things.

There will be a cost…

Between one second and the next, something not me uses me to peer through Tonks eyes, and then I'm there, along for the ride.

Memories…

I feel it…

I feel the pain, multiple hands, cruel grasping, multiple bodies, being violated, the horror, the visceral feeling of wrongness, uncleanliness, of never being right again, shattering, breaking, wanting to die.

The anger, the hate, watching only friend, love? Sister? Lover? Being dragged before me, tortured, violated, worse than me, so much worse.

Over and over.

I run out of tears, my hands try to rip my throat apart, but they're spellbound.

Again and again, she suffers. Because of me.

Her eyes burning only with hatred.

For them. For me? Me? Me! ME!

Me, my fault, hatred of me, must be, I hate myself. My fault.

My fault.

The Slytherin seventh years laugh, their jeers sinking into my mind, the names imprinting. Slut. Whore, Beast, Plaything. Abomination.

I add my own to the chorus. Useless. Failure. Weak! Tears flow uselessly, she's screaming, she's screaming and it's all my fault! Why did I listen? Why did I think we could take them!?

Taken from Hogsmeade like a pair of useless girls, where is my strength!?

No one even knows we're gone! Because I'm a fool, my fault!

I hate hate hate! All of them, they're monsters, they need to PAY!

My bindings are coming loose, how, why? My rage, my hatred, I morphed further than ever before… Who cares why! My wand, I scramble for my wand!

"Avada Kedavra!" A hateful voice screams.

It's mine? Mine? I…

Sickly green flashes, my hatred following it to its target. I… I…

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

I drop my wand limply, Ophelia kills the other two when they come for me, as I stand useless. I killed….

I…

Ophelia trying to make me listen. I can't.. I can't… I'm hurt, I'm hurting so bad, I killed!

I did that, I killed, with the killing curse, I'm a monster!

My soul… Have I killed my soul?

Her wand pointing my way, what? I stare at her with incomprehension as she mutters, "Imperio."

Everything fades.

….

I come back, staring down at the graves, I recognize my surroundings, the forbidden forest.

Ophelia…

Hugging me, crying, apologizing.

Needed to do it, needed to escape before found, hide the evidence.

Excuses made to teachers, no one noticed.

Students will have run away, she says. We're safe.

No one will know she says. We're safe.

I know… I…

I know. I'll always know. I'll never be safe.

I'm a monster. I'm weak, I caused this. Never safe.

Ophelia…

She needs me. She's crying. She's alone without me.

I need to stay strong, help Ophelia.

I.. I can pretend. If it's for her.

I can pretend I'm a good person.

I can pretend I deserve to live after dragging us into that, after becoming a murderer, after making her kill, too weak to finish my own job.

After going through…. That.

Disgust.

Hate myself.

I should just have died.

Ophelia deserves better.

No… She needs me…

As long…

As long as I have her…

….

I go through more memories, being directed towards each pertinent one with supernatural ability, far beyond my own skills at Legilimency would have been capable of.

Learning even as I go, my own skill strengthening.

Memories of Tonks beginning to self harm, always able to hide it before Ophelia could catch on.

Reckless casual sex, just looking to be harmed, until Ophelia put a stop to it, declaring they were both together.

Their relationship is highly dependent on each other, but also in a way… Seemingly Ophelia's way of looking after Tonks, in a very unhealthy and broken way.

She, too, was more messed up than she knew.

Memory after memory of Tonks keeping up a facade, her parents knowing something is wrong, but unable to crack through. Tonks becomes a better and better actor, her metamorphic powers assisting her.

Joking, smiling, keeping up her old self's dream of being an Auror - all to ensure she doesn't ruin Ophelia's healing.

Doing it all for Ophelia. Never thinking of herself.

Acting out, because Ophelia acts out.

Having sex, because Ophelia is in the mood.

Beating up a firstie, because Ophelia was angry at his disrespect and the potential teasing and flirting consequences from their peers on Tonks frail psyche.

Only his age and their new friendship seems to have allowed her to draw a line, refusing his apparent obliviation… Was it Ophelia not Quirrell that had mindwiped him on the sly then?

He needed to clean up his mind ASAP after this.

But for Tonks it all came back to the same thing again and again.

Over and over, Ophelia…

Who left.

The morning when Tonks realized, I can feel the pain in the memory, the absolute realization that she was alone, that she had failed to keep Ophelia happy.

That she could not make up for her mistake, that she failed again - it broke through whatever was left of the act. It began cracking, her facade beginning to fail completely.

The memories fade, and I brace myself, fully understanding where the ritual is heading.

I have offered to heal her pain, take it away. Offered a sacrifice.

I'm suddenly very glad for the soundproofing as the feelings, the pain, the everything… Begins the slow march of allowing my sacrifice to take effect, my screams echoing across the space.

Starting with the first memory, I'll take on all the pain, I'll feel everything that happened to her, moving on to every cut she gave herself, all her shame, guilt, self hatred, I'll experience it all one by one.

My fingers bleed as I scratch at the floor, pain above anything I've felt taking me down to the ground, my body taking a punishment I don't even have the physical parts to feel, yet I feel it deeply into my very soul.

Had I known precisely what would happen, I wouldn't have been strong enough to ask for this…

One by one, those memories are dulled for Tonks, as I experience them like they were happening to me, taking over the feelings, the guilt, the shame, the pain. Leaving her with only the knowledge, none of the pain and feelings from the memories.

I claw at the ground, tossing my wand away so I don't break it, it's my last consciously able action before it all takes over completely, and anything but pleading for mercy disappears from my mind all together.

My voice would grow hoarse begging for mercy, and there would be none.

I could only keep one thought in mind.

I asked for this. And it will save her.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Hours later, Undercroft.

I come to, feeling something on my face, my hand moving numbly to move it away. Geroff!

Tonks grasps my hand in her own, pulling it away, dabbing at my face with a wet cloth with her other hand, being incredibly gentle and slow.

I can feel the wrappings around my hands, she's wrapped my hands… Why? I think, still confused

I look at her, feeling fuzzy still, confused. "Crying?" I ask her, my tongue heavy, almost stumbling over the word, my eyes catching onto the fresh tear tracks on her face.

"No cry, fixed it…" I mumble, stiffening as I feel an echo of pain reverberating through me.

"You're impossible and I'm going to heal you all up so I can beat you within an inch of your life!" Tonks sniffles, looking relieved to see me awake. "You shouldn't have done that, no one should do that for someone else, no one!"

I could say that there's hardly one percent of magical who could even think to perform that kind of divination aided ritual, but my tongue feels too heavy to say that many words.

Merlin, I'm lucky I didn't choke on it or bite it off…

"Had to." I struggle out, my body feeling like it's been wrung through, or run over by a herd of hippogriffs. "You… Need help." I manage to force out through clenched teeth. The pain is still there, lingering. I want to vomit, but I have nothing left in me.

Pretty sure I did that a lot. Since I'm not smelling it, or covered in it. Tonks must have already taken care of the mess.

Tonks sniffles again, squeezing my hand tightly, "You aren't a baby raven anymore, you're a stupid stinky Gryffindor! No one else would do what you did, I… I remember it, but it's like I'm reading about it in a book…" Her face has a complicated expression on it, even as a lone tear streaks down her cheek, "For the first time in a long time, I feel like me, again." She cries, holding my hand so tightly that it hurts, but I don't pay much attention.

Everything hurts anyway.

"Good… That is good." I breathe out, something within me easing a little. If I had known exactly what happened and what I would suffer, I doubt I would have so easily taken it on, as shitty as that makes me feel.

"It's not shitty!" Tonks scolds me, "If you had willingly chosen to go through what I did… I don't even know what I would do to you for doing something that stupid, but it would be told as a cautionary tale for the entire magical world!" With the teary eyed glare she's shooting me, I'm pretty sure she's completely serious.

I nod feeling somewhat sheepish, before we both freeze, coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

Tonks speaks first, nibbling on her lower lip, "Ah, you didn't happen to say that out loud, did you?" She asked, eyes wide.

I wince, thinking, No I didn't. Seeing her take it in, understanding my thoughts.

Oh, this is going to take some getting used to…

Tonks sags slightly, "Ah, so the feelings I'm getting an echo of isn't from me…" She has tears in her eyes again now, looking horrified, "Oh, Lucas…" She cries.

She's understanding it more now, what I've gone through. What I'm still feeling an echo of. What my soul will likely ache through for a while yet going forward. Part of the sacrifice I made.

I squirm uncomfortably, well aware I have pain in parts that don't actually exist on me. Magic, gotta love it. A powerful feeling of shame briefly overtakes me, making it hard for me to breathe, before I push through it, determined to reassure Tonks, "It's not real, it's just… Like a dream." I lie.

She gives a wet chuckle, wiping at her eyes, abandoning the wet cloth, "You know I can tell you're lying right?" She says, grimacing, "I can feel where you hurt, even if it doesn't make any sense."

I grimace as well, not exactly well pleased with this particular sacrifice, "So you can tell what I'm feeling and what I'm thinking? That's going to get old real fast." I understand parts of my sacrifice now, at least. Pain, and Privacy, although what's the third one?

There will be one. Because I asked for something thrice, and needed to sacrifice thrice for the full effect of my ritual to come into play. You don't cheat magic at its due. Not when fate is in play.

Especially not when the things I learned from tapping so deep into Divination, would allow me to finally remove my obliviations, my knowledge and skill in Legilimency skyrocketing by having a primordial force puppet me and show me how shits done.

I might have done the ritual just for that.

I start, giving Tonks a guilty look.

She smiles, although it's a sad one, "Maybe baby raven still fits, you knowledge demon." She teases gently, before sniffling again, "I don't know what I did to deserve this… I can't… I can't even understand why I acted like I did, why I made the choices I did. Looking back without the emotions attached…" She trails off, looking even sadder.

I struggle up into a sitting position, hugging her even though something in me protests the movements vigorously. "Don't get stuck in the past, I saw it, you didn't do anything wrong, if anything Ophelia mishandled everything."

Even if I can't really blame her either. For all that she acted composed most of the time - she is obviously just as broken inside.

Tonks grimaces, "Don't take the blame away from me, I got us into that situation, no matter how it ended and what came from it, I'm just as big a part of the blame for how Ophelia turned out. How cold she got…" She shakes her head, "I don't blame her for leaving, I just wish I could help her like you helped me…"

I immediately nix that idea, "I have an affinity for this kind of magic obviously, something that has borne out from several rituals I've attempted. Don't even think you can do something similar for similar effects, it would have a completely different outcome!"

Tonks pouts, but it looks more melancholy than anything, "You're the expert… I keep forgetting you're only eleven."

Shit.

Double shit.

Stop thinking about it!

Lucas shut the fuck up in your head you idiot!

Tonks eyes widens dramatically and she looks at me with her mouth gaping wide open. "I think I need to figure out how to not always hear your thoughts." Her voice is slightly incredulous as she takes it all in. Having obviously caught on to my most obvious secret, whatever Occlumency defenses I have not mattering in the face of our divination powered bond.

There's silence between us for a few minutes as I try and think of ways to not think of things.

That, it turns out, is not easy.

"Still… Reincarnation, huh?" She laughs suddenly, "You absolute jerk!" She slaps my shoulder lightly, "No wonder you're making us all look like pathetic losers!"

"I still had to work for it all." I say sullenly, wondering if I could get a refund, and maybe get some more physical sacrifices, like losing a leg or something, I can totally rock a Mad-Eye Moody style peg leg.

Shit, Moody got me back to thinking about Tonks, abort abort.

Tonks blushes slightly, gaining a teasing edge to her lips, "Do I want to know why the words Tonks and Porn both flashed through your mind?"

Pink elephants, pink elephants, think only of pink elephants! I chant.

Tonks giggles, covering her mouth with one hand. I can't help but think that despite my humiliation, it's a lot better that she's laughing, then crying.

"Okay, we really have to work on limiting this thing." She says, still giggling slightly.

"I can deal with it." I say stubbornly. All in all, one person that I already have a good friendship with knowing things isn't too bad. With how the ritual worked, she should be as protected as me when it comes to mind arts now.

Part of the whole I take her pain and attachment to her bad memories - she gets my protection and security.

Now I hadn't planned for her to have a direct line into my head, one obviously completely one sided on her side. But I can handle it.

All things considered, it isn't the worst outcome. I wince as I move a little bit too much. This metaphysical pain and how long it's going to stick around is another problem but one I can deal with.

Tonks gives me a lopsided grin, "You say that now, but I for sure don't want to know what you get up to when puberty hits…"

I stare at her incomprehensibly, before I begin to blush as Tonks makes a very recognizable motion with her hand.

"R-rigth, find a way to let you choose when to pop in my head, definitely a priority." I agree, getting a tinkling laugh out of her.

I can tell the difference already, the always underlining harshness or something like it, that always had been under the surface, is gone.

The laugh is free, happy, and completely her.

Despite everything.

I know I did good here.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

I was of course an idiot.

We got detention etc, no problem.

But a day later I got a shock and surprise.

Because I had still ended up sending an owl to Tonks parents after I performed the ritual, and now I was paying for that decision.

Because they had both come to Hogwarts to check up on their daughter.

And Tonks told them everything!

The consequences of clearing out a girl's fears - she trusted in her parents to help again, spilling the entire story to Andromeda and Ted.

Well, her story and what I did to fix it. Not the whole reincarnation thing.

Thankfully she was leaving it alone, not bothering me with questions. Likely feeling that I am uncomfortable sharing that part of my life.

I had never intended to share it. Still wouldn't to anyone else, not even to Tonks if she hadn't found out in this manner.

If only I could stop thinking about it whenever I thought of it. Easy right?

Tonks kept shooting me amused looks as I kept panicking every time my mind turned towards things I didn't want her to know.

Honestly, some naughty Tonks fictions I'd read before was small potatoes compared to what I knew about the Death Eaters and the like.

Right… Stop thinking about that.

Wait, why am I being hugged?

I squirm as Andromeda hugs me tightly again, I had been sure we were over this part.

"Mom, you're making him uncomfortable." Tonks says, an amused smile playing on her lips

I don't need to be a mind reader to know she's enjoying this.

Andromeda huffs, refusing to let go, "After what you told us he's done, I'm hugging him until the stuffing leaks out."

Ted chuckles, as I send pleading eyes his way. "Son, you better just go with it, as far as we're concerned you're part of the family now."

Tonks grins, "I always wanted a little brother!" She chirps, looking very smug.

I definitely never thought of you as a sister, I think at her, irritably.

If anything Tonks just looks even more amused, her top swelling slightly as she morphs behind her parents back, waggling her eyebrows at me.

I give her an unimpressed glare, I don't even have the hormones to care about that. I think snidely.

Tonks still just grins at me, looking happier than I've ever seen her, just basking in the presence of her family.

Wait, what? My mind screeches to a halt as I catch on to what Andromeda and Ted are talking about while I had the stare off with Tonks.

"You can't be serious?" I blurt out.

Andromeda grasps me by the chin, her eyes fierce as she gets down on my level, "You saved my daughter through means I'm not sure anyone but me and Ted would have been willing to go through, as far as I'm concerned, you're mine." She said definitively, shocking me by leaning in and kissing my forehead gently, "Don't worry, Ted and I will take care of the paperwork."

"Tonks, help!" I say, not entirely opposed to the idea of living with the Tonkses instead of the orphanage, but definitely getting some possessive Black sister vibes from Andromeda right now.

"As your official big sister, I feel like my proper task in this situation is to say, sucks to suck." Tonks says with laughter in her voice. Ted coughing with his mouth covered by his hand, no doubt hiding a grin as well.

"Be nice to your brother, Dora." Ted says, sending her into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah be nice to me!" Tonks said. Into my mind, telepathically.

Just wonderful.

Ugh, if she starts calling it a soul bond or something similar from shitty fiction i might actually kill myself.

I look at them with betrayal, as Andromeda tucks me further into her bosom, hugging me tightly, "You'll get used to them my dear." She says easily.

Tonks looks so happy, and it's not like this is a bad situation for me, pretty ideal actually. I sigh, allowing myself to fall into the hug properly.

The tears and recriminations of the start of this meeting are all long done with, as Tonks shouts, "Family hug!" And joins us, a chuckling Ted following along.

I can't help a small smile, it feels… Nice. Despite the soul deep pain that's still wracking me, this feels nice.

And seeing Tonks so happy is definitely worth it all.

I've made a positive change to the world.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Author's note:

Specifically changing things with the kind of magic he did, to the extremes Lucas has done, has a cost.

If he'd taken Tonks to therapy for a few years and worked with her on healthy habits and relationships etc. Her fate is equally changed, but had nothing to do with calling on primordial forces.

There is only a cost because of the level of power he asked for.

He asked for three things, and sacrificed three things.

He asked for the ability to divine the best path forward out of all paths, for the ability to see Tonks pain, and the ability to take it away.

His sacrifice, taking over the pain, loss of control, and loss of privacy. Bound to always have someone knowing all that he does, bound to be the lesser partner in the bond, not the one in control - only applying really to the fact she is the one able to poke into his head, not he into hers.

Tonks is on his side, but it's still a heavy sacrifice in many ways.

Although much better than some other possibilities. Having a mental connection to someone soon outside Hogwarts…

I just find this kind of magic more interesting to write about than tossing expelliarmus around since HP magic just seemed to have so much possibility that was just never expounded on.

Cheers

JolltHippopotamus 

So a lot of magical mumbo jumbo in this chapter, as Lucas goes a wandering in his own head - which for various reasons isn't as simple as he'd wish.

Lots of reveals in this chapter, hopefully it turned out alright.

As usual JKR owns Harry Potter etc etc.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

I very quickly figured out what my third sacrifice had been.

The loss of control and agency I have now that Tonks can literally pluck my thoughts out of my head as I have them - it's a sacrifice I am willing to make - but it's not one I'm necessarily happy about.

No matter how many eye rolls and 'ickle baby raven' comments I got, I managed to get Tonks to experiment with our connection, to see how far it stretches.

I've managed to confirm several hypotheses I had upon realizing we had this connection.

For one, Tonks can speak into my mind from wherever she is, at least within the distances we're able to traverse inside Hogwarts and it's grounds - I don't find it unlikely that this will continue even when she leaves Hogwarts - which will be a pretty strong boon for me.

Well, depending on things, it could also be a detriment, Tonks has definitely only been using it to tease me for now, although I have a suspicion she's trying to distract me from the painful aftereffects of the ritual.

Of course, another effect of this is that it will also allow me to continue being her rock, ensuring she doesn't backslide mentally. Being able to chat with her whenever she reaches out, no matter where she is, could only be helpful there.

Unfortunately, I can only speak to her when she's already speaking to me. The contact is always initiated from her end. I don't have access to her mind, she has access to mine. When she's close by, I can sometimes feel what she is projecting however.

On that revelation, and with Tonks permission, I had probed her with Legilimency, and to my utter relief, discovered that for whatever reason, whatever division kept my old memories (those I still remember…) apart and unassailable - also now kept those same memories locked away in her mind.

I have no idea how that works, other than magic.

Rituals are bullshit like that.

The likes of Quirrell can't just plunder Tonks' mind for all my secrets - which had been my first worry, and it would benefit Tonks in her career too, making her mind more unassailable - which could only be good, because her mind constantly projected to me since the ritual, her openness absolutely ridiculous.

So I can't read her mind, just feel some of what she feels.

Likewise, my mind is not a open book to Tonks, she can't reach into me and just read my life, she can easily pick up on my surface thoughts, but she has to concentrate and work at it to get anymore then brief imprints - and even then, it's not exactly Legilimency, she simply can't search through my mind hunting for information.

As I've already found out, it's easy enough to make me think of something if she wants the information though. Tonks delights in making inappropriate comments, especially regarding herself, and then giggles and jokes around as she takes in the places my mind goes.

Overgrown child… But it's better than she was, so I grin and bear it. It's not like she's really being a pain with this newfound situation, she's just using it to tease me a little.

Her being able to read my emotions, surface thoughts and feelings get muted the further away she is from me to an extent. While she can still communicate with me telepathically if she so chooses - she can't as easily get anything else if she's at the other side of Hogwarts.

Fleeting thoughts, a brief spike of a feeling, she says it's more muffled and unclear with distance.

Except particularly strong emotions and feelings shine through no matter what.

When she's connected to me, I feel her stronger as well. Something she was quick to test out in her dorm room. She really has no shame. This happened on the same night she claimed she was my sister too.

Puberty… Is going to be a bitch…

Something for future me to figure out. Current me has his own problems.

For one, I'm still in constant pain. I keep telling myself it wasn't my body, it's physically impossible for me to feel this way. But magic doesn't care about such pitiful things as logic or flesh. It's a consequence of a ritual, not one easy to shake off, I can't make it go away, so I just take it and try and move on.

The physical pain is at least now beginning to dull, several days later. Dull, but not disappearing.

The shame, guilt and self hatred that emanated through the memories I took them away from - aren't so easily dislodged either.

Sleep has been…

Difficult.

Nightmares are a constant, reliving the moments…

I am noticeably paler and have bags under my eyes even after only a few days, potions haven't helped. All this has led to my friends starting to do things like carrying my bag for me, bringing me snacks, cuddling up on some of the common room couches to try and help me nap.

To no avail unfortunately, but I love them for their attempts.

Honestly, I have no idea what I've done to deserve 11-12 year olds being this nice and compassionate. We're all such Hufflepuffs…

Tonks of course is a proper mother hen now, when she isn't teasing me outrageously of course. She knows what I've gone through, she can't feel the pain from the memories anymore - but she knows them, logically knows how hard and painful it all would be - and knows I took it on me.

So she's barely left my side, and would have probably followed me into first year classes if she could find a way to get past the Professors.

The fact she can feel my emotions and skim my thoughts, makes for one impossible to avoid big sister figure.

She's taking the big sister thing way too seriously too. I'm still not sure I'm comfortable with going with the Tonkses, it feels too much like I'm intruding.

"Tempus." I mutter, cursing under my breath as I note the time.

I run a hand through my hair, it is time to face the music.

I've managed to avoid her for two days, it was time to figure out just how pissed she was.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Hogwarts library, Wednesday morning, before classes.

Clever as I am, I'd chosen the library as the place where I would face the wrath of Hermione Granger - especially knowing she couldn't spend too much time lambasting me as classes would begin within the hour.

With the sanctity of books around me, surely she wouldn't hex me too badly?

I mean I know I can outduel her, but it would be rude to beat her up when coming to apologize for randomly stunning her and leaving her in a hallway.

Considering the shit that could happen at Hogwarts, it was actually really shitty of me to do that.

I would still do it again.

But it didn't make it any less shitty.

Tonks of course is coming along, having picked my reluctance to face the Hogwarts bookworm out of my head, and followed along as backup in case the scary first year Gryffindor would make me cry.

Having her in my head is definitely something that's going to take a while to get used to…

"You know you love it~" She teases me, jostling my shoulder as we walk into the library side by side. "All you can think about is me, it's kind of flattering…"

I give her a dirty look, "You're purposely doing things to make me pay attention, in no way is my mind occupied by you, Tonks."

Except for thinking about how annoying you are, I think at her purposefully. Not really meaning it, and she of course picks that up, just grinning warmly at me.

As I spot Hermione sitting at a study table, she spots me at the same time, and no word of a lie, I can literally see her hair puffing up in indignation, as her eyes fix me with a glare.

I hide a wince as I step forward, having to disguise it as I almost stumble, wracked with pain suddenly.

Tonks arms steadies me, as she continues on like nothing happened, to my relief.

"You'd think you did something a lot worse than a stunning spell with the way she's eying you." Tonks says with some bemusement, waving at the Gryffindor, who waves back to Tonks without once taking her eyes off my approach. Thankfully she makes no mention of my brief stumble, and Tonks is leaving it alone too, the last thing I need right now is to talk about my nightmares and the pain.

I took it away from Tonks so she wouldn't have to deal with it anymore, I can handle it. She squeezes my arm at that, although nothing shows on her face.

"I made her drop her books." I say, in a sort of resigned amusement of my own, continuing on with what we're talking about, leaving the rest unsaid.

Tonks chortles, although it's a bit weak, shaking her head, "Ravenclaws… I have no idea what the hat is on to send the two biggest Ravens I've ever seen into Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!"

We were close enough now for Hermione to hear that last part, and her glare now encompassed Tonks as well, "You can't speak about one of the founder's artifacts like that!" She hisses out, mindful of keeping it down due to their location.

"The sorting hat has probably seen Dumbledore naked, a bit of quirkiness is expected." I say, shrugging my shoulders.

Tonks stifles a laugh at that, covering her mouth, even as Hermione gasps in outrage, " Lucas Greenwood are you trying to make me shout in the library!" She says very rapidly, eyes narrowing at my absolutely unapologetic face.

"I'm not sorry about that one, I am sorry for stunning you though." I say, honestly feeling bad for just randomly stunning her, at least randomly from her point of view.

She huffs, glaring at me some more, "That's all I'm going to get isn't it?" She asks, wrinkling her nose.

"As opposed to?" I ask, looking at her confused, "I'm dirt poor, so if you're expecting weregild or something I'm afraid I can't help."

Hermione rolls her eyes dramatically, "Merlin, you're such a boy." She gives me a disgruntled look, "You can barely call that an apology, and you didn't even say why you stunned me!"

"That's on a need to know basis, sorry." I tell her, Tonks watching our conversation with the expression of an elder seeing something very silly.

Hermione locks onto my gaze with a heavy one of her own, "I need to know, if anyone is need to know about why you stunned me, it's me!"

"Sorry, I'm afraid who needs to know is also on a need to know basis." Okay, so at this point I'm just messing with her, but I can't help it, she's adorable, not at all the scary monster I'd feared when I entered.

Tonks has to walk away from the table for a moment, erupting into a fit of giggles, no doubt plucking that right out of my head.

Hermione just sighs, dropping it, no doubt seeing a lost cause, and already smarter than her canon self - she didn't fight the losing battle.

"Harry is right, you are more trouble than it's worth some days." She grumbles under her breath.

I think about asking what that's about, but having achieved what I needed - apologizing without being set on fire, I beat a hasty retreat. "Class and all that you know, Hermione, see you later." I call out, drawing a grumble out of the girl for being so loud.

Tonks follows me, her lips twitching, "Why did you have a picture in your mind of a troll with bushy hair?" She teases me.

I glance at her, "It could have happened, she has a temper, you know…" I defend myself.

Although perhaps I haven't been giving her enough credit… She wasn't nearly as neurotic as in canon, the fact Harry and Ron wasn't constantly trying to suicide, dragging her along, probably helping keep her more stable.

Tonks nods sagely, "I suppose it's better than you imagining girls in their knickers." She muses out loud.

My face grows hot, as I glare at her, "You did that on purpose." I growl.

Everytime I start having pain, she pulls something like it.

"Yep!" She says, popping the P. "At least I'm glad it's me you're thinking of and not the ickle firstie." The smugness in her tone is ridiculous considering I'm also an ickle firstie.

Technically.

"Just leave me alone." I groan, walking towards my first class, even if it's still plenty of time until it starts.

At least in class Tonks can't follow me.

Although I wonder what on earth I've done to have Harry think I'm trouble.

I think back to the year so far…

Okay, fair enough.

I could see it.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Hogwarts, Wednesday afternoon,

"So you're Tonks brother now?" Susan asks curiously, as us Hufflepuffs hang around the common room.

It's fairly quiet, most of the older years fully focused on their studies. Except Tonks.

I side eye her, already having a feeling that come NEWT time, I'm going to be answering a lot of questions telepathically.

Then I realize that Susan had said that like it is common knowledge now…

I glare at Tonks, who is grinning cheekily at me, "I see word spreads fast, and no, I'm not anyone's anything at this moment…" I say strongly, ignoring Tonks' disbelieving snort.

Neville frowns, looking confused, looking between us, "But she's already told everyone you're her little brother." He points out.

I slam my head down on the table we're sitting at, "Tonks, why do you hate me?" Like I need more attention drawn to me right now, especially with Quirrell back. Being adopted by a Black, is not something I want to spread around…

The Muggleborns in the castle were going to be an absolute pain over this, I could just feel it. They'd gloss completely over the whole married a Muggleborn and got tossed out of the Black family part - focusing only on what they want out of it, me being adopted by someone born with the name Black. The purebloodest of purebloods.

Likewise, the purebloods would be pissed that I am joining a blood traitor family, betraying their culture. All of it a load of tosh, but one I could see these dumb kids internalize and then use to hassle me.

"I don't hate you, I luuurve you, little brother!" Tonks says exaggeratedly, moving over to throw her arm around my shoulder, hugging me to her side, "See we look exactly alike," She says, morphing to a black haired pale version of herself to match me.

Which… Just makes her look like a Black. Tonks, you're so not helping! I think with annoyance clear in my thoughts.

I glare down at my hand as it briefly twitches, a brief flare of pain rushing through my nerves, fucking knock it off, I think at my body, clenching my hand into a fist, Tonks squeezing me tighter against her, her warmth soothing even as I feel embarrassed for having failed in hiding the pain again.

"The rumor mill will have you as a long lost Black before the end of the day." Hannah whispers in horrified fascination watching the two of us.

"I'm not a Black." I grit out, twitching slightly with the wish to draw my wand and practice Obliviation with all my friends.

And then everyone in the castle.

Is it too much like a Dark Lord to want to mind wipe the entirety of Britain?

From the brief swat on my arm from Tonks, it might be.

Later… Pettigrew doesn't need memories anyway - and he's an acceptable target.

Tonks chuckles darkly at my side, having done her own training on their captured Death Eater, at the rate she is going, she is going to face some very uncomfortable questions when entering the Auror Academy.

"Don't jinx me, Lucas." Tonks says, pulling on my cheek, confusing everyone else around the table.

"Sister and brother stuff, secret language and everything." Tonks says, seeing everyone's looks, and giving an absolutely pathetic excuse.

"A secret language, you've been siblings for what? A day?" Susan asks skeptically. Considering the smile that keeps reappearing on her face, she finds it charming instead of stupid, like anyone should think after that ridiculous explanation.

Ow!

You don't have to pinch my cheek harder!?

Tonks gives me a sweet look, Stop thinking stupid things then. She informs me, right into my head.

I inwardly grumble at the unfairness of it all, before focusing back on our friends. "Again, we're not actually siblings, although I was offered the option, it isn't that easy…"

And it really wasn't, Andromeda and Ted had shown they were the parents of Tonks - that her ridiculousness had been genetic, marching right ahead with the idea, no thoughts at all as to if they should.

You'd think Andromeda would have wanted to avoid the hassle of getting involved with the Ministry.

Tonks had received an owl yesterday about the matter. It wouldn't be resolved by the summer with how many names were thrown in once it circulated around the ministry that I was being adopted.

Luckily it was unlikely I would be tossed into the Malfoy family or something, due to Andromeda being a Pureblood, her 'claim' on me, had ultimate power since she'd offered first.

If she'd been a half blood or Muggleborn, she'd have lost the right to whatever family paid the most to get at me.

With the feeding frenzy I was a bit surprised no one had tried it before, but perhaps they were all waiting for the summer.

Either way, with so many families getting their names involved, for the fun of it in some cases it seemed, I'd likely still need to go back to the orphanage in the summer, at least for a bit.

Although Andromeda was doing what she could to expedite the process, her family was throwing enough of a stink it was all going to be bogged down in procedures until they had no more hurdles to toss in the way.

The Black family barely had surviving members, but whoever was still around evidently had enough gold to throw around to complicate everything.

"I say we're siblings, so we are." Tonks says with surety, arm still around me, giving my friends a challenging stare that dares them to disagree.

"Congratulations." Neville says slowly, looking at me like he feels nothing but pity for me.

"Does that mean you're going to rein Lucas in now, Tonks?" Hannah asks with a mischievous smile, giving me a uppity little look afterwards.

"The fuck are you saying?" I begin, before Tonks starts giving me a noogie, making me splutter out a protest.

"Yep, I'll keep him in line." She says with a cheerful grin, ignoring my protests.

The skeptical looks they all have are rude, if anything I'm keeping Tonks in line.

Probably not what I should have been thinking with her right by me.

The knuckles grinding into my head intensify in pressure.

Well, it's true! I think, refusing to give up.

The rest of the year is going to be a long one…

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Knockturn Alley, the Wilting Hag, Thursday night.

Ophelia looked around her with distaste, face hidden behind the cowl of her cloak. The Wilting Hag tavern exuded an aura of darkness, shadows flickering strangely beneath the dim, flickering light of ancient oil lamps. The wooden floorboards creaked ominously under her feet and the walls were adorned with what appeared to be actual muggle bones. Charming, she thought with scorn.

Like digging up some graves would lend the locale some gravitas… Scum was scum, no matter how they tended to puff up their feathers to appear as something they were not.

The tavern itself was in a hidden basement of an oft used apothecary in Knockturn Alley, and therefore managed to avoid scrutiny from law enforcement.

It was well warded, Ophelia wouldn't have found it if not directed directly to it. Nor would she have been allowed to enter without the password.

They were still scum, the detritus of the magical world. But they were at least well protected scum.

"We shouldn't be here…" Igor Karkaroff muttered, his face sunken and pale, eyes nervously flickering her way, as she ignored him, striding forward, the Death Eater following her like a servant, knowing his own place now.

After several lessons.

Despite herself, she'd almost come to enjoy giving them out.

Only the flash of Tonks face in her memories, keeping her from totally succumbing to her wish of just eradicating the pest.

She would not become a thug. She would not murder just anyone without cause. She'd be forced to do it for her mission, no doubt.

There was no need to sink to becoming the same as these… Beasts.

Ophelia walked right by two vampires, females, unnaturally graceful and elegant, both competing for the attention of a richly dressed patron, who'd likely stolen the clothes, considering the state of his hair and skin. If he had any intelligence, he'd wonder what such elegant and beautiful women were doing, wasting time with him.

But if he had intelligence, they likely wouldn't have bothered with him at all.

Vampires were on a short leash in Britain, only able to move in places as this.

Something was going to get sucked, and the fool would be lucky if he got to enjoy one way before they enjoyed their way.

One less fool in the world wasn't a great loss.

"I'm not supposed to leave my post." Igor insisted quietly, forced to follow, but still holding enough will to speak up in opposition at times. Even if he lacked the backbone to put words into actions.

She couldn't trust him to stay behind, he'd likely attempt to flee, or trap her on her return.

Ophelia glanced back at the worm with a wroth look, "Maybe some time without your tongue will convince you to be quiet?" She questioned haughtily.

Igor shrank back, hatred clear in his visage, his slimy appearance looking worse for wear these days. But notably, he did fall silent, trailing behind Ophelia subserviently.

There weren't many patrons in attendance today, from what Igor had told her there never was. The place was only ever visited by either dark creatures, or those that wished to lower themselves to that level.

Which made it a curious meeting place to summon her to. The note she'd received only mentioned the time and place - no sign of who might have been the sender.

Except they managed to achieve the feat of delivering said note through her wards, onto her pillow, while she lay sleeping. A statement in itself.

If I wanted to kill you, I could have.

It was obviously not Igor's doing, he wouldn't have left it at just a note. He'd already made his lustful desires very clear after all. Hence why she needed to punish him so often.

She found herself a table in the back, one with good enough sight of the entrance and the kitchen, seating herself without preamble, sweeping for listening charms as a matter of course, and immediately disabling three.

Such a thing was common for these kinds of places apparently, hence why she checked.

"This is a bad idea…" Igor muttered, going to take a seat with her.

Ophelia fixed him with a glare, "You can kneel at my side, servants who can't obey, do not get to sit like an equal."

Igor shrank back, not immediately obeying, but within seconds, facing her thunderous scowling face, he did as she bid, numerous Crucio had taught him that much, if not to keep his opinions to himself.

"Heh, that's a good way to handle Karkaroff." A voice said from the seat next to her!

Ophelia shot up, her wand aimed at the cloaked figure who'd seated himself next to her without notice. Or had been there the entire time.

She wasn't sure which she prefered…

"Who are you!?" She demanded, one of the unforgivables ready to let loose, she'd had plenty of practice lately.

"Heh, we don't do names here girl, Karkaroff should have told you as much, the sniveling coward he is…" The hulking figure said a trace of amusement in his voice. "You've been sent to me to do a task, you may call me Obelisk."

"What is the task…" She asked coldly, having no interest in prying further, even if she was given a great deal of leeway with Karkaroff, it did not mean the same with the rest of his ilk. As she was still under judgment, she could not afford to appear too curious.

"Heh, a real go-getter huh, wouldn't have thought it of ya." The man said, Karkaroff staring at them both with fear in his eyes. To Ophelia's chagrin, he seemed more fearful of Obelisk than her.

"Heh, well, let's see what you can do lass…If you're sure…?" The man's chuckles grew ominous as he asked her that.

Ophelia grit her teeth, well aware she had no choice but to do whatever it took to gain entrance into the Death Eaters.

"Try me." She ground out, hatefully.

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Undercroft, shortly after midnight, Friday night.

Tonks worriedly flits about as I get comfortable in one of the armchairs, a large mirror placed in front of me to assist me in the inadvisable magic that is self Legilimency.

Luckily I excel at succeeding at the inadvisable.

With the ritual having boosted my expertise in the practice, I feel I have enough of a grasp on it to attempt to push through my obliviations, despite advice to the contrary from Ominis.

I still had some serious words for him, the absolute snake, had locked the library again once I'd succeeded.

You'd think the fact I proved I could do it would be enough, but if anything, Ominis seemed to have found my success as nothing more than a fluke, and refused me access again.

Tonks isn't exactly thrilled about any of it either, but with her here and able to somewhat feel and read my thoughts, she should be able to pull me out of if I get stuck, if by nothing else shocking my system enough to pull me out of my head.

Now that she's more stable, she's strangely reluctant to use magic on me, but she will if it's absolutely necessary.

Some of it, I feel… Is because of the pain that still randomly wracks me.

I'm hoping it will settle soon.

Perhaps this self reflection will assist in that?

"Are you sure about this Lucas, what if it goes wrong?" Tonks finally asks, gnawing at her lip as she continues to flit about, filled with nervous energy.

Mind magic has a dangerous reputation in the magical world, and Tonks isn't able to assist me, almost no one at Hogwarts is capable. And definitely no one I could trust.

So it has to be this way.

I meet her eyes, my own deadly serious, "My mind is the only thing I can count on, I can't let something hide from me, I need to do this." My lips curl into an honest smile, "Besides, I have you looking out for me, I'll be fine."

Tonks huffs, blowing her cheeks out, "Compliments won't make me happy about this, you know? I still think it's too risky." She steps closer, ruffling my hair, "But I suppose you know this kind of stuff, so I'll have your back."

I already silenced the portraits, to keep distractions down, due to Sebastian's flirting with Tonks, and Ominis continuous warnings about how I shouldn't meddle with the things I am.

Easy for him to say since he isn't going to suffer any of the consequences of leaving things be.

Must be nice to simply give ominous warnings and never have to worry about the consequences.

"I'm ready, don't pull me out unless you're certain it's necessary." I warn Tonks, smiling a little as she comes behind me, resting her cheek on my head, as her hands rest easily on my shoulders.

It's with that picture showing in the mirror, that I draw my wand and focus on my own eyes, determination shining through, "Legilimens!"

…

Unlike every time I've plundered Pettigrew's mind, this time it's different, perhaps because it's my own. But even for that, something is… Off.

Instead of thousands of memories appearing in the distance like distant stars, I feel and see nothing but whiteness around me, in a hazy mist, before things become clearer, slowly…

I find myself standing in a dense, misty forest, looking down in surprise at my own representation, my old body, a body I couldn't even remember. Yet, something tickles my memories now…

It's faint, more like the outline of a ghost than anything, but it's definitely not the body of an almost 12 year old.

The air is thick with mystery and has the weight of hidden truths, I can almost feel it, like a storybook come alive - this is not how minds are supposed to work! I think, baffled by the experience. Is this because of the ritual? Because of my connection with divination, my bargain with fate?

I don't know. All I can do is move forward to search for my lost memories, from my old life - and those stolen from me through Obliviations.

The trees around me that I can spot through the mist, are twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like bony fingers, as if trying to snatch at me.

Not, I think, a good sign in general.

As I take my first tentative steps forward, the crunch of leaves and twigs beneath my feet echo through the stillness - feeling real, despite only being memories of sounds. The mist swirls around me in a mix of gray and white, obscuring my view of the path ahead, but also serving to heighten my senses, making me acutely aware of every movement and sound.

As I walk, brushing past branches, I get flashes of memories, brushing past them as I do, as they are not the ones I'm looking for, the memories suffused into the gnarled branches, nothing but common everyday memories.

The mist seems to be getting thicker, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of me, the bombardment of memories slowing down as I brush against the trees less and less, my path forward walked on blind faith.

Suddenly, a faint glimmer catches my eye - drawing my attention as it is the only deviation from this mindscape I've seen for I don't know how long - time seems immaterial here, I have no idea how long it's been already.

I trust Tonks to pull me out if it's too long.

I make my way towards the glimmer of light, confident my own mind won't trap me, even if it's acting in an unusual manner - because proper Occlumency should have the void, not a representation like this. As I approach, I see that it's a small shimmering pond, nestled in a clearing, the mist dispersing slightly to allow me the view in a way that seems very intentional. The water is crystal clear, and I approach it, guessing that with all the divination possible through the medium of water - this representation will help me discover things about myself.

I kneel before the pond, watching my reflection, it's… disturbing to see. My face is blank, I don't have eyes, yet I see…

My memories from before are hidden from me due to my own foolish bumbling, I can't remember exactly what I looked like. My eyes, or at least, my vision - stares down at the pond, thoughtfully.

Was this the representation of the Occlumency crafted void that separates my mind into two halves, hiding my old life from even myself?

I haven't come this far to simply hesitate now. If it acts anything like a pensive… I reach forward, staring into the shimmering surface, as the tip of my finger touches it.

A freckled face, twin pigtails of dirty blonde hair, serious eyes that seemed to change color if he focused too hard, a girl, no more than perhaps 11-12 sitting on a bench, wincing as an older boy with dark hair bandaged her hand.

He… Felt love, concern, connection… He felt like…

" * You shouldn't get into fights, leave that nonsense to the boys." He cautioned her, with fond exasperation, giving her knuckles a quick kiss.

She rolled her eyes, pretending they weren't shiny with unshed tears, "I have to, if no one stands up to bullies they get away with it!"

He shook his head, a wry smile on his face, "And it has to be you, *?"

She got a stubborn look on her face, jaw jutting out, "I didn't see anyone else doing anything." She said sharply, eyes shining with righteousness.

He chuckled, finishing the bandages, "I suppose I can't complain about the fact my little sister is a warrior of justice, eh?" He joked, ruffling her hair.

"Hey, not the hair!" She protested, although the grin on her face showed she didn't mind it as much as she claimed.

…

My vision swims with memories, filling in some of the blanks, my sister… How… I had a sister, how did I forget my sister! Why couldn't I remember her name!

More, I need more!

He wore a groove in the floor, walking back and forth, his body language full of worry and anger.

The door opened, the same girl sneaking in, wearing ripped jeans and a tank top, a ratty pink backpack slung over her shoulder, her hair cut short, just above her shoulders, parts of it colored pink and green. She freezes in place seeing him standing there.

"Uh, bro, what are you doing up?" She asked sheepishly.

He threw his hands in the air, glaring at her, "What am I doing up? What are you doing out?"

She opened her mouth, and he interrupted the lie she'd no doubt speak, "Don't bother, I already got a call from the police, spray painting, vandalism, really, *?"

She crossed her arms, wrinkling her nose, a stubborn look on her face, one he was so used to seeing. "They had it coming, they tested their shit on animals, I did nothing wrong!"

His shoulders slumped, "You know I agree with you, you know I love how much you care about everyone and everything, but this… This will give you a criminal record *!?"

She shrugged, "I'll do the right thing to help people or animals, if it's illegal then the cops are wrong!"

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, the young girl surprised for a moment, before she melted into the arms, "What am I going to do with you?" He murmured, "What am I going to tell our parental units?"

She snorted, burying her head in his chest, "Oh, are they here this week?"

"I am vastly under qualified to raise you, *." He said with a deep sigh, kissing the top of her head.

"You do alright." She said, patting him on the back awkwardly.

"The police are literally looking for you…" He pointed out dryly.

"So you're saying it's your fault for raising me wrong?" She said cheekily, looking up at him with an innocent expression.

"Oh you're on now brat!" He said, wrestling her down, finding her sides and the weak spot she held there.

I felt more memories returning, I… Wrestled and tickled my sister often apparently, because she was a complete brat… And too good for the world apparently, always looking out for others. Which meant it had been my job to look out for her…

Shit…

And here I am in a completely different world, good job I'm doing…

…

A voice calling out in absolute certainty, "I'm going to change the world, you watch me, I'll save people!"

"Hey, can you… Come bail me out? I promise I did nothing wrong, it was just a protest!"

A hand holding a diploma, "Top of the class, eh, what do you say about that, bro? Weren't you only 4th ~"

A hospital bed, "Don't know what happened, traumatic injuries, don't know - "

…

My head hurts as slowly things start to become clearer about small facets of my old life, and eventually the pain becomes bad enough that I withdraw my finger from the pond, stopping the flow of old memories.

I haven't even gone through a tenth of the memories necessary to puzzle out my old life, but the pain, although not physical, is a warning sign that I can only take so much at a time.

I have briefly remembered a sister during my time at Hogwarts, in flashes, and now that I have a little better picture of the situation, I feel the pang of loss keenly.

I don't have all my memories yet, I don't know why I so eagerly embraced a new world, because I had, even before I began utilizing Occlumency. Why had I chosen to push aside my old life so easily? Even if I hadn't meant to lock it away, why had I given up on her…

I am a shit brother.

No wonder I dealt with Tonks so horribly until only a miracle could fix things. Am I… Even a good person?

I take a metaphysical deep breath, and stand up, I don't have time for regrets right now, that can come after… My resolve firmed up, I needed to find out where the memories deliberately taken from me were.

Giving one last lingering look at the shimmering pond, knowing I'll be back at some point. I step back into the deep mist, searching for that which is hidden.

As I venture deeper into the mist, the air grows colder, and the hairs on the back of my non-existent neck stand on end - a weird feeling to have. I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched, which is ridiculous because I'm in my mind, there's no one else here.

Thinking briefly on the parasite in Harry's mind, I shudder. There better not be anything here!

The mist seems to be getting thicker still, making it a little like walking through soup, making it difficult to see anything at all. Suddenly the mist just... Ends, and I face nothing but blankness in front of me. Or at least so I think for a moment, standing in a vast blank expanse of nothing, before something appears in the distance.

It's the mist, I see it again, but it's swirling out of reach.. behind the big wall of nothingness I can't pass through at the moment. As I gaze into the distance, the swirling mist begins to take shape. It forms into a large, imposing door, standing alone in the middle of the blank expanse. The door appears to be made of solid oak, reinforced with iron bands and adorned with intricate carvings. It seems entirely out of place in this empty void, but I can't shake the feeling that it's here for a reason - that it's the next step.

The blankness now feels more malleable, like I can push through, and some of it feels… A little too convenient.

It is my mind. What would I think if I controlled something like this? The blankness all around is creepy and deeply uncomfortable, which makes the inviting door an obvious choice.

Pushing through the blankness is like walking through thick syrup, some resistance pushing against me, not wanting me to go further, and I feel that I'm on the right track, this resistance perhaps the representation of the block to my wiped memories. Notably, the resistance is lesser on the path to the door.

The fact it's inviting me in, is another sign. Not a good one, I feel.

I make my way to it, stopping just ahead of it, pondering the oddity of it. The heavy iron bands make the door look imposing, like the kind of door that leads to a dungeon. I wonder if it's possible to trap obliviated memories to ensure they're not easily retrieved, not something I had even thought of before.

Seeing this door, and feeling it doesn't belong. I'm thinking of it now. Going by the idea that Quirrell, or worse, Quirrelmort, had Obliviated me, the chance of a trap wasn't an impossible one.

All of this is wrong, it's not how Legilimency and Occlumency works, I think, studying my surroundings.

But… In the case of a story book - it is thematic - the quest for oneself. And like I'd discovered, magic easily works its way into the crevices of a story - finding the path without direction due to centuries of habits. And with me having recently called on such deep magic, perhaps it had its effects on a deeper level than I had suspected.

Not a very comforting thought, dealing with fate suddenly seems a lot less inviting. Which doesn't help me after the fact.

Deciding I'd rather take a chance on the unknown that fit with everything so far - over the odd door - I step around it, and the tableau immediately changes.

From one step to the next I appear inside a throne room, medieval, dark, foreboding. The stone walls radiating a feeling of discontent, the tableau complete with a grand throne made of dark, polished wood and adorned with thistles and thorns that made it an uncomfortable looking seat.

It definitely is like something out of a story book, the end of a book reached, the final climactic battle between light and dark and what have you. Although as a reflection in my mind, I have a feeling about what I'm walking into…

The room is dimly lit, with only a few flickering torches scattered around the walls, casting long, thin shadows across the throne room as they burn with an off putting green flame. The air is thick with an oppressive energy, and in this room, the feeling of being watched emanates strongly from the shadows.

My feeling on what's going on grows stronger, and I'm not very pleased with it. I did not need this.

As I carefully take in my surroundings, having that feeling about where this is going grow ever stronger. If it's the case… If I'm following a story, this is the point… The flames grow larger suddenly, ominous music playing from nowhere and suddenly the feeling of being watched recedes.

I immediately notice that there's now a figure seated on the throne. The figure is shrouded in darkness, wearing it as a cloak, making it difficult to make out any details. However, I can sense an overwhelming aura of malice emanating from them. The figure regards me with a cold, calculating gaze, and I feel a shiver run down my spine, even in this purely mental space.

I definitely have read too many stories…

"Who dares to enter my domain?" the figure booms, their voice echoing throughout the throne room. The mental landscape briefly flickering, as the figure let's their will loose.

I wince, not at all happy about any of this, even if it in some ways made things easier when it came to recovering my memories. It's just so done. The problem in general with stories is that they've all been done.

Still, a story in some ways is preferable to the hard work of slowly untangling thousands of strings to loosen the web of an Obliviation - especially if it allowed me to cheat past the hard work without making this avenue harder.

Which still remains to be seen…

"Is this posturing really necessary?" I say to myself with a resigned expression.

Because if this is running the gamut of a story, then of course it's me that's sitting over there.

Waterfall of truth, hall of mirrors, whatever you want to call it. I'm facing my own reflection.

As I thought, I remove the dark hood covering my face, a scowl on my features as I stare at myself. "Would it really have hurt to play along a little?" I gesture to the throne room, "When are we ever going to get a chance to do something like this again?"

Merlin, I hope it's never…

I sigh, wondering if this me is supposed to represent all my negative emotions - or just a sense for dramatics… "I don't suppose you'd just agree that recovering the memories is important and just go along, would you?" I ask myself.

Knowing me, I wouldn't lay down so easily…

Merlin, this is one hell of a mind fuck… I think.

"Of course it's important!" I say with a flourish, stepping off my throne, beginning to descend the steps. "That's why we got to do this thing properly!"

I give myself a deadpan stare as the imperial soundtrack plays as I walk down the steps of the throne to face myself. "Really? You're going to do this all light side versus dark side, do we even have a dark side?"

I shake my head, a pitying look on my face, drawing a wand out of my voluminous robes, " Everyone has a dark side, uglier, less capable me." I strike a pose, " Especially us!"

I pull out my own wand somehow, calling on it despite this all being a mental representation, bemusement clear on my features, "So what truth am I supposed to suddenly have an epiphany about?" I ask, even as I try to impose my will over this room, it's my mind, I insist.

The room refuses to obey. Because of course it isn't that easy.

"That won't work." I say idly, a haughty smirk on my face that makes me look constipated in my opinion, looking at it from the other side.

Note to self, haughty doesn't work.

"It's my mind…" I say with certainty, giving myself a headache with all this, but I really didn't want to duel myself for my own truth or something so ridiculous.

Who knew messing around with divination would lead to such ridiculous things. Even as I can't help but note how absolutely amazing it all is at the same time. Just very… Annoying, considering the need I have.

I sigh, shoulders slumping slightly, "I can't believe I'm this dumb, if I'm in a story, I have to play it out, that's how stories work, evil versus good, dark versus light, good brother… versus bad brother…"

I make a distasteful face, acknowledging my point, I'd caught myself in a story, due to my own meddling, so the only way to end it, was to see it to its end. "Fiendfyre!"

I gape in shock as a conflagration of fire scorches it's way across the throne room, mythical beasts screaming out in crackling blistering hatred as they claw their way forward, melting everything in its path. "You're the good one, you can't fire first! And Fiendfyre is a bad spell!" I shout, absolutely incensed at the cheating.

I shrug causally, "It's my mind, I can make up whatever spell I want." I sure as hell wasn't dueling myself fairly, I'm too tricky of a bastard…

"You suck!" Came as nothing more than a whisper of ash, as the throne room and myself is immolated in the flames from hell.

"I think I need therapy." I say to the empty space, before it seems to fold in on itself, and I am hurled straight into a pool of milky white liquid, falling straight into a memory, the barriers gone.

…

Professor Quirrell exited the room of requirement, holding the Ravenclaw Diadem!

Quirrell meeting my eyes, a cold smile blooming on his face. "What a pleasant surprise, Mister Greenwood."

…

"I am quite interested however in knowing how you, a mudblood, knew to find this room."

…

"Dumbledore is keeping an annoyingly close eye on me, you can thank that for living beyond today." He pointed his wand at me, "Well, if you could remember." He mocked, before hissing out, "Obliviate!"

…

I force the memories to still, it's painful, but I need to think before I get sucked into anything else, and there is more, I can feel it.

How many times were I obliviated?

Nevermind that for the moment, I decide. Quirrell has the Ravenclaw diadem, that is bad to a whole 'nother level. Does that confirm he is Voldemort? It must, right? I just can't see the Dark Lord trusting anyone to fetch it for him. And what is he even doing with it?

Is it even a Horcrux? So much is different, does he even have those? But why else get the diadem? Why else would he have hidden it at Hogwarts, and they still had the curse on the defense position…

Yeah, it was still definitely a Horcrux just based on that.

…Wait a minute.

That motherfucker obliviated the knowledge of the room of requirements from me!

I had so many plans for that room, plans to fix my poverty, to get some awesome loot, lost knowledge, the whole nine yards. There were so many experiments I had wanted to do with the room's magic - and I had completely forgotten about its existence - which smarted almost worse than knowing Quirrell has a Horcrux in his possession.

The worst thing was that now I knew and I still couldn't go near the room of requirements. Not while Voldemort was at Hogwarts, if he didn't have a ward around there, I'd eat a house elf. If I went snooping around there, he'd know I had my memories back.

That… Would literally kill me. So not doing that.

I have so far refused to go to Dumbledore. With a Horcrux in Quirrelmorts hands… Can I still take that stance?

I take a deep breath, which doesn't really do anything for me in this metaphysical plane. I can feel the pull, the story rushing to completion.

I have defeated my reflection - now I face the truths I have been seeking.

… I'm not sure I want to know what else has been hidden from me, but the pain of resisting the ebb and flow of the story is beginning to be debilitating, so I let go, falling into another memory.

…

I find myself at the tail end of a detention, Professor Quirrell advancing on me.

"If I'd say that the best way forward for the magical world is a full decapitation of the muggle world's powerbase - what would you do to achieve this?" Quirrell enquired, suddenly stalking forward, grabbing me by the chin with long pale fingers, eyes fanatically burning as he met my gaze.

I saw myself scream in pain, as Quirrell violated my mind.

Thankful still, that at the very least, my old life was hidden, because otherwise I would have never left that room alive.

I felt myself pulled along, Quirrell's voice distant as he queried me further and further on the muggle world.

As I revealed too much, how easily the muggle world could fall into chaos. Disrupt logistics on a global scale, knock out communications, power, society will begin to break. Spread a disease, or famine - and the rules of law would shatter, the muggle world fully engulfed in the flames.

More questions, more answers, how to prevent the muggles from destroying everything in their wake due to the chaos.

Destroy or transfigure all nuclear weapons, imperio military commanders, completely destroy fuel reserves, grounding the worst weapons - leaving muggles with firearms at best, to better kill each other.

How to hurry up the fall. Go after the countries that produce most of the wheat for the world, eradicate their fields - idea after idea of all the worst things you could do to really bring humanity low.

Quirrell releases my head, a hint of surprise on his features, even as his calculating gaze ponders me. "Interesting… I have tried this on many a Muggleborn, including Miss Granger, and never have I received such a comprehensive and final solution."

"What… Are you after…?" I gasp out, my head splitting in pain, as I taste blood in my mouth.

Professor Quirrell strokes his wand with long fingers, a pensive expression on his face, "Hmm, what indeed, young mudblood…. I suppose we could call it plan… C… Just in case everything else goes sideways." His lips curl in malevolence, "It wouldn't be too difficult to convince the magical world muggles needed a steady hand if they were falling apart, would it?"

"You'll be caught, that much magic, on muggles…" I struggle out, my teeth red as I spit at the son of a bitch, expecting my own death, but feeling nothing but disgust, at myself for inadvertently giving him more ideas, and at Quirrell for even entertaining something so vile as planetary annihilation of muggles.

Professor Quirrell chuckles darkly, the mix of saliva and blood I spit out, traveling through the air in a lazy spiral, until it slips inside a glass bottle he produces from somewhere within his robes. With a wave of his wand, I feel better, my head no longer hurting so badly, my mouth healed from where I'd bitten into my tongue and cheek. I stare in horror at the fact I just delivered my blood into his hand, even if he could have taken it at any moment.

"They will figure out that something is going on, surely. They aren't too bad at their jobs after all, unfortunately." Professor Quirrell agrees easily enough, "Yet, as I found in your mind, your delightfully creative mind, once the collapse starts, it's not something easily fixed…" He let out a pleased hum, "I doubt it is as easy as you picture it, you're still young and foolish, but you showed me several scenarios I hadn't considered, so I thank you for that."

"Fuck you!" Even with fear beginning to creep up my spine, I can't help myself, the words slipping out.

Professor Quirrell doesn't seem to mind, barely paying attention to me, "It's a last resort…" He mutters to himself, "It's messy, the other plans are preferable," He continues, as he steps up to a cabinet that I hadn't noticed existed until this moment, opening the dark wooden doors, placing my bottle of blood and saliva inside. At this point I'm not even surprised to see dozens of bottles inside, although seeing the labels marked as Hermione Granger and Harry Potter - makes me feel defeated.

"I suppose we'll have to see which plan ultimately ends up utilized, I'm sure it will come as a great surprise to you either way, Obliviate!"

…

The memory ends and I curse, then curse some more for lacking anything better to say about the memory.

Me rattling off a bunch of different ways the muggle world could collapse is bad, but ultimately he could have gotten something similar from any muggle, so I'm not sure what the point was with it all.

The fact it's not the first plan, is of little comfort when one of the plans is obviously for the Death Eaters to completely destroy muggle society - to force the magicals into stepping in as their caretakers, since they couldn't take care of themselves.

Honestly, I am less disturbed by the mind rape and the plan - then by the fact Quirrelmort has my bloody blood! And Harry's too!

Nothing good can come from that!

I might have to go to Dumbledore, I admit distastefully.

To my shock, I'm drawn into a third memory, I was obliviated three fucking times!?

…

I stare in shock and awe at the room, my explorations having taken me into the large cavernous room, giant portraits of previous Hogwarts Headmasters above me, the pool of water solidified before me, a vision of Hogwarts and its surroundings visible below.

The room from Hogwarts Legacy, where the protagonist, the wielder of ancient magic - would come to speak to the ancient Headmasters and Headmistress of Hogwarts in his quest.

The portraits were empty, but just seeing this wonderful vision, being here, in a place where momentous events were set in motion - was reward enough for my wanderings of the castle.

In no way did I believe myself capable of whatever ancient magic actually was, the name absolutely ridiculous considering all magic is by definition ancient. No matter what new purposes we find for it, it's all stemming from the same source.

Perhaps that is it?

Ancient magic, as used by those very few.

Is simply a term for someone able to actually access the source of all magic.

It's nothing but a guess, but it makes more sense then just slapping ancient onto something as an explanation for how it works.

"You have a habit of finding yourself where you're not supposed to be, Mister Greenwood." A voice says heavily from behind me.

I turn around, grimacing as I come face to face with Albus Dumbledore, his eyes sad as he peers down at me.

"This doesn't seem that forbidden to me?" I say with a stubborn set to my jaw, refusing to apologize for discovering one of Hogwarts many secrets.

Dumbledore looks up at the portraits with a complicated expression on his face, "The place itself is not, the knowledge one could gain simply by discovering it… Is, I'm afraid, not yours to keep."

I look around me, taking in the beauty of the cavern, the magic surrounding me, the vision of Hogwarts beneath me, "How is knowing about this room a danger?" I ask, boldly.

I figure I might as well, because it's not like I can outduel Dumbledore, so I might gain some satisfaction before he wipes my mind. Because I immediately clocked onto that fact. Why else would he be here, blathering about dangerous knowledge.

"You're young still, it's understandable to see no danger in simple knowledge. This kind… this kind of knowledge, when you know it, it knows you too, an insidious kind of thing, dating back a hundred years…" Dumbledore explained, a sorrowful tone to his voice.

"You're going to obliviate me aren't you?" I ask, already sure of the answer.

Dumbledore smiles down at me, sad and determined at the same time, "It's what's best for you." He insists gently, raising his wand.

"Fuck you!" I fire off, before the memory suddenly ends.

….

My last thought inside my mindscape, before it all slips away from me…

Bloody hell, I told both Dumbledore and Quirrelmort to fuck off!

…

I have a lot on my mind as I come to, staring into a mirror yet again, Tonks looking at me with wide eyes, looking flabbergasted, and then elated, "Lucas! Look!" She shouts in glee, pointing at the mirror.

I stare at myself. The me I was before.

Since buggering when am I a bloody metamorphmagus!?

Rituals don't work like that!

･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ*･ﾟ: *･ﾟ

Author's note:

So another obliviation, and finally some minor answers to some things.

Lucas has more threats ahead of him eventually but also more on his side now, some of you already figured that there'd be some bleed over from Tonks and you were absolutely right.

I'm sure Quirrell can be trusted with students' blood, he's a stand up guy.

I sure hope Dumbledore's plan, whatever it is, is as smart as he keeps acting like it is.

Lucas will make his own, because now he'll definitely not go bugging longbeard.

Cheers